Jane Actually

and seconds later the lift doors opened.
    He motioned to the three women to enter, avoiding saying “Ladies first.” They joined the already crowded lift and he was about to enter when he thought he heard a sound from his earbud.
    He realized the problem immediately and stepped back and told the people in the car “Forgot something in my room” and waved at them to continue. He made a show of returning to his room but as soon as he heard the lift doors close he returned and pressed the call button again.
    “Thanks Stephen,” he heard someone say in his earbud.
    “No problem,” he said out loud.
    A minute later, the doors opened again and this time the lift held only two people, so he entered.
    They continued to the lobby and the door opened to a knot of attendees talking animatedly. Stephen side stepped them and tried to make sure there was enough room for his roommates to follow. He was starting to feel like a mother goose making sure his goslings were following.
    He worked his way down the edge of the hallway, now filling up with people going to the various night-time events. Not everyone intended to go to the ball; some elected to play cards (mostly poker but a few played whist or bridge); and some people eschewed the dance in favour of watching Austen movies in one of the small ballrooms. But most people were headed for the main ballroom and the dance.
    Here he found more congestion as people lingered outside the doors of the ballroom, exchanging greetings rather than entering. Fortunately he noticed there were other double doors flanking the entrance and saw someone exiting through those doors, alerting him to an easier way for his friends to enter.
    “Follow me,” Stephen said, and took his goslings through the side entrance. One he opened the door, however, he understood the real reason there was a delay entering. Those people not dancing and just watching were arrayed around the outside of the ballroom, making it difficult to enter. Stephen knew it would be difficult to continue to shepherd his group.
    “OK guys, I think you’re on your own now,” he said.
    In his earbud, he heard the men trying to respond, the digitized voices of the terminal relaying their remarks one after another.
    “I have no idea what you just said, Stephen, but I think I’ll mingle,” someone he thought might be Alan Timison said. Albert’s digitized voice was the only one he easily recognized.
    Another person said, “I think we’re on our own, Stephen. The terminal can’t translate over all the noise.”
    And another: “You might have to speak more loudly, Stephen.”
    And still another: “Thanks, Stephen. Don’t forget you promised to dance with Miss Henshaw.”
    Stephen listened as the terminal informed him that all the men had left the chat room and immediately afterward that BertieFromHants had requested a private chat. He accepted and heard Albert’s digitized voice in his earbud.
    “I don’t see her yet, or at least her avatar.”
    “Mary,” Stephen said, absent-mindedly, not liking her being called an avatar. He was trying to find an inconspicuous place to hold his conversation.
    “Pardon me,” Albert amended. “I do not see your Mary. They undoubtedly hope to make an entrance later. Has Mary said whether Jane … is Jane very upset?”
    “All I know is I got a text from her saying that she’s in hot water with Jane because of it. But let’s look on the bright side, at least Jane knows you didn’t leave.”
    “I’m sorry to hear I’ve landed Mary in the soup. I hope I haven’t cost her her job.”
    “I doubt it. Mary’s already the public face of Austen and except for this … I know she gets along with Jane.” Actually Mary’s text message had Stephen considerably worried.
    “… if only Jane would return my texts.” Albert said.
    “You haven’t sent any more since the keynote?” Stephen asked, thinking it might be good to let Jane ponder without further prompting.
    “No I haven’t. There’s no sense in making her further upset.” Albert looked around the ballroom. “Everyone seems to be having a good time,” he observed, hoping to change the subject, but the observation made him remember how much he had been looking forward to dancing with Jane.
    Stephen recognized the wistfulness in Albert’s observation. He wanted to reassure his friend but was interrupted before he could say anything.
    “Stephen, you’re either waiting for Miss Austen or Miss Crawford. Or is it