Jane Actually

nodded enthusiastically, eager to show her knowledge. “OK, Austen … this woman … had to convince the identity committee she is who she says. And as I understand it, you can go two routes: by either producing some proof or knowledge that only the person could know or by convincing the committee—sort of like defending your dissertation. It’s supposed to be all very secret and the AfterNet tries to hide who’s on the committee, but everyone suspects Deirdre Le Faye and Joan Ray were two of the five.” 2
    “I heard you were on it, Dr Davis,” said the unctuous Roy.
    “I was not, Roy.”
    “Yeah, but you’re supposed to deny it if you were,” Stephen added with a mischievous grin.
    “I would never lie to my students. Now stop interrupting Ashleigh. Continue.”
    “All right, the committee is also not supposed to divulge how they reached their decision, but I’ve read Austen … this woman … satisfied both criteria. She produced some proof and supposedly she was able to recite her continuation of
Sanditon
, while unconnected to the AfterNet. Apparently she’d had to memorize it while writing it; and the general consensus was that it’s amazing.” Ashleigh sat back in triumph at this, making it pretty evident she thought the claimant was the genuine Jane Austen.
    “I didn’t think it was that great … I mean the part I read,” said Lucy, who’d been quiet up till now. Alice turned to her, the acid smile she normally reserved for Lucy—not her favourite student—frozen on her face. She hated that Lucy might share her opinion on the matter.
    “To what are you referring, Lucy?”
    “The excerpt that’s everywhere. I think I saw it on
Jane Austen Today
, but it …”
    “Nobody thinks that’s genuine,” Roy argued. “I mean that wouldn’t have fooled someone like Dr Ray or …”
    “And that’s not the only one out there, Lucy,” Stephen offered. “All the people working on Austen continuations are coming out of the woodwork. I’ve even seen someone stealing from Anna Austen Lefroy’s attempt 3 and claiming it as her own.”
    “But do you have the copy that was supposedly leaked out by one of the committee members, Dr Davis?” Ashleigh asked in an attempt to take charge of the conversation.
    “No, I don’t, although Stephen will probably just claim I’m supposed to deny having it. And let’s face it, can you imagine any of the people who’ve been mentioned as being on this committee leaking it?” She gave them a stern look, hoping to end the conversation.
    “Look, it’s all speculation on the Internet, which is fine and it’s kind of fun, but it’s not scholarship.”
    “You don’t think she is Austen, do you?” Lucy asked.
    “That’s a …”—she stopped herself from saying “stupid”—“that’s not the right question, Lucy. The right question would be whether I have doubts, to which I would answer that I really don’t know how anyone could ever be sure. The only thing I do know for sure is that I’ll end up buying a copy of her
Sanditon
and I assume all of you will as well. And I think that’s the last word on this subject. Now if we could return to Sir Thomas.”
    Ashleigh’s speculations about Sir Thomas 4 were interesting, Dr Davis had to admit, but she was distracted during the whole time with her students. She couldn’t put her finger on why she so disliked the idea of a Jane Austen made … well not flesh, but at least made identifiable. Despite all her critical analysis of Austen, she had to admit she’d somewhat deified Jane. The thought of encountering a real Jane—virtual warts and all—made her uncomfortable, and she had to admit no claimant could ever satisfy her.
    Her hour with her students finally ended. As usual, Stephen remained behind but she tried her best to ignore him.
    “You really don’t think she’s Austen, right?” he asked when he tired of being ignored.
    She sighed. “Does it matter? I’m willing to admit I could be wrong. Maybe she is the creator of six novels and a smattering of juvenile writings that have defined most of my life and my academic career. And if I’m right and she’s not Jane, we’ll know it when we read her book.”
    “Come on, doc, you’ve got to have a copy already. You and I know someone has the transcript of that committee and if Austen really was reciting
Sanditon
to them …”
    “I really don’t, Stephen. And don’t think I haven’t tried to get a copy, but it’s not something you