join the small crowd of people and teddies that were assembling before the church porch of Holy Trinity, Salcombe.
Elizabeth became uncomfortably aware that Mr Collins was angling to get close to her at every opportunity. He even seemed to make a pretence that his Malcolm wanted to snuggle up to her teddy, Bertie, which quite horrified her. Bertie had been her dear companion since earliest childhood and was not to be treated in such a fashion.
The vicar, looking himself like a boat at sea, his white gown flapping relentlessly about his tall, mastlike body, handed out tickets to all teddies and invited owners to make their way in groups up to the top of the tower, where their beloved bears, attached to a handkerchief, would be flung out.
“I will time their descent myself,” he added and, from deep within his white-sail outfit, produced a large stopwatch. “The blessed bear who manages to stay aloft for the longest will be the winner. Off you go, and may the Lord be with you and with your teddies!”
The Bennets and Mr Collins were enough to make up Group F, and when the time came, set off up the winding stairs. The girls scampered ahead, but Mr Collins found his legs would go only at a snail’s pace, and he was forced to stop on several occasions for a breather. By the time he completed the tortuous climb and stepped out into the open at the top of the turret, the girls were already launching their brave teddies into the fresh air. Mrs Bennet, who had made a surprisingly speedy ascent, greeted him in a friendly fashion.
“My dear Mr Collins! Well done! Now where is Malcolm? It must be his turn!”
“Malcolm?” Mr Collins looked around. Where indeed was Malcolm? Oh, Lord! He must have dropped him on the way up. Mrs Bennet saw an opportunity arise.
“Mr Collins! You must have dropped your teddy on the way up! Poor Malcolm. You rest here and we will look for him on the way down and then one of my girls will run back up with him and you will be able to send him on his way.”
Mrs Bennet had in mind that she would send Lizzy back. It was the perfect opportunity for the two of them to have a tête-à-tête. But Mr Collins, the enflamed romantic, was one step ahead!
“Thank you, my dear Mrs Bennet. You are most kind. I do find myself rather out of breath, but I would be most grateful if you could ask dear Elizabeth to wait here with me.”
“Of course! Of course!”
“But, Mama…”
“Stay here, Lizzy!” hissed Mrs Bennet. “Come along, girls—let’s go down at once and see if we can find naughty Malcolm.”
To Lizzy’s distress, she found herself trapped alone on top of the tower with Mr Collins. Mr Collins smiled and simpered for a moment and then began.
“My dear Elizabeth. You must know that I—”
“The view is quite remarkable from here, is it not?” interjected Lizzy, dreading what was to follow. But Mr Collins was not to be put off.
“You must know that I… that I fancy you. No, more! I have the hots for you, my dear Elizabeth, and with such feelings, I am desirous that you will be the companion of my future life.”
Lizzy barely knew whether to laugh or cry but had little chance, as Mr Collins was now on a roll.
“My reasons for marrying are, one, being a clergyman, I should set an example to my parishioners; two, it would make me very happy; three, Lady Catherine would be pleased.”
“Wait, Mr Collins! You have not given me a chance to respond!”
“Respond! No need for that! I look forward to leading you up the aisle ere long and the well… all the happiness and the er… hanky-panky that will follow!”
Mr Collins winked and giggled at Lizzy. Lizzy felt panic rise, and her voice rose in parallel.
“No, Mr Collins! No!” Her voice trembled in shock and horror, which Mr Collins regarded as a passionate response and one which required him to act as befitted an ardent suitor.
Down below, the vicar and teddy-bear parachutists craned their necks to see what all the hullabaloo at the top of the tower was about. To their horror, they could see Lizzy Bennet leaning backwards out over the tower and a strange man leaning over her, throttling her.
It was true Lizzy was in the process of being strangled. Mr Collins was attempting to kiss her, to seal his proposal, but not being familiar with such an act, had placed his hands around her neck, and as he leant forward, Lizzy leant back in an attempt to escape. The more he pressed, the farther she leaned, until she was in mortal danger of falling out altogether.
“No, Mr Collins! No!”
Later that day, Lizzy recoiled with a curious mix of horror, shame, and not a little amusement at what happened next. Her situation had been so precarious that she put into action the only weapon known to woman in such a state and kicked out. The effect was instantaneous. Mr Collins let out a howl of agony, let go of her, and hurtled across the tower to the other side and, to Lizzy’s horror, flipped over the far edge. She dashed across and peered over, expecting to see Mr Collins’s mangled body lying far below. Instead she saw his terrified face only a few feet away. By a miracle, he had been saved from certain death. His coat had caught on a large hook from which he was now dangling.
“Oh! Oh! Save me! Save me!” he whimpered. “Oh my! Oh! Oh! Oh!”
The crowd below had run round and were watching in amazement as Lizzy leant through the castellations and managed to pull the unfortunate Mr Collins up until he tottered on the wall and fell back onto the platform, crushing Lizzy beneath him.
Chapter 20
It was this sight that met Mrs Bennet and her daughters on their return to the top of the tower.
“Mr Collins!”
Even Mrs Bennet was shocked by the ardour of Lizzy’s suitor. She had not expected the clergyman to be so forward in his expression of love as to be already on top of her daughter. How times had changed.
“Madam!” said Mr Collins, getting up hastily. “It is not what it seems! Oh my! Oh my!” And he hurried to the staircase, made his way down as fast as he could, and was surprised as he walked out into the sunshine at the bottom to be hit on the head by a parachuting Malcolm.
“Malcolm had a lovely descent!” called Lydia, giggling from the top of the tower.
“I, er…” Mr Collins left, alone, confused, and unsure whether his proposal had been a success or not. He decided to go and sit on a bench and gaze out to sea until the beating in his breast had subsided and he could ask Malcolm for advice.
“Well, Lizzy?” asked Mrs Bennet as they descended the winding stairway.
“I will not marry him, Mother!”
“You certainly will.”
“I shall not.”
“Let’s see what your father has to say about this!”
As they left the churchyard they were fortunate enough to bump into Mr Bennet.
“Lizzy will not marry Mr Collins!” announced a furious Mrs Bennet.
“Is this true, Lizzy?”
“I certainly will not!”
“Make her marry him, Mr Bennet! Think of the inheritance.”
“I will not!”
“If you do not, I will never speak to you again!” cried Mrs Bennet.
“Lizzy, my dear,” said Mr Bennet seriously, “an unhappy situation lies before you. You are on the verge of losing one or other of your parents. If you do not marry Mr Collins, your mother will never speak to you again. If you do marry Mr Collins, I will never speak to you again.”
