Page 33 of Beyond Her Manner
Then Viola took a slow, even breath. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “That must have been horrendous.”
Gillian took a breath, too, and exhaled. “I kissed her goodbye at the very moment my mother stepped through the curtain.”
Viola’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“Mmm. I didn’t expect her to find a parking space so quickly. Our relationship was already pretty strained by then, and yet this was a turning point. She never looked at me the same again, even with my insistence that it was a platonic kiss goodbye to my best friend. It seems we hadn’t been as careful as we had thought. She’d begun to suspect something, and she chose that moment, as Hen lay dead in that hospital room, to tell me how I sickened her, how she was glad Hen was dead, how I needed to forget about her and start being a proper young lady.”
Viola grimaced. “And did you?”
Gillian nodded, embarrassed to admit it. “I was broken. I realised if I stayed in line and did as I was told, it would be easier for everyone. I didn’t have the strength to breathe, let alone fight my mother. She kept me alive, even if I wasn’t living. I thought she would be satisfied when I married Jonathon; instead she went on to eye our marriage with suspicion. In a way, it was a relief when she died. I no longer needed to look over my shoulder, worried she might say something and bring my house of cards falling down. Looking back, there was nothing to fear. For all her faults, one thing my mother wasn’t was stupid. She knew my being at Kingsford would benefit her too. She would have been a fool to speak up and suggest our marriage was anything other than genuine. It didn’t stop her worrying, though, and jibes over the years about the lack of grandchildren and suggestions I wasn’t the motherly type didn’t help. In the end, she took my secret to the grave. Only she knew what I felt for Hen.”
“How long have you been keeping this in?”
Gillian didn’t answer. She didn’t want to sayforever.
Viola’s hand squeezed hers again as if she sensed the answer. “And you haven’t told anyone since?”
She shook her head, still unsure why she let herself open up so completely to Viola. She was like a vampire, sucking everything from her, and she’d surrendered it to her willingly.
“Not even Bridget?”
Gillian shook her head again.
“Do you not trust anyone either?” Viola’s voice was heavy with sadness as her eyes appeared to search Gillian’s for a glimmer of truth.
“The one person who knewmerejected me,” Gillian said, her voice trembling. “Can you blame me for never wanting to open up again?”
“No. No, I can’t.”
“My mother’s cruelty taught me something about people, and I knew I could never be that person again. When I moved here, I dedicated everything I had to Kingsford and the village, helping wherever I could. I know my manner and approach may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I get things done. I make a difference—or, at least, I did.”
“You still do. Only you get to decide when to stop. You can’t let this place define you. You’re so much more than it; so much beyond it.”
Gillian sighed, deflating a bit. “Whatever I am, I’m all alone and losing direction for my next chapter.”
“You’re not alone,” Viola said softly. “I’m here for you, too, and I won’t be going anywhere either.” She quirked a smile before adding in a soft, teasing tone, “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
Gillian didn’t feel disappointed. She was about to voice that when Viola removed her hand, leaving a cool sensation against Gillian’s skin. She instantly missed its weight and comfort.
“Now that you’ve told me your darkest secrets, are we still going shopping?”
Were they her darkest secrets? Anmmmescaped Gillian’s mouth in answer to herself.
“Great. How’s Saturday?”
Realising she’d inadvertently agreed to that day, she replied quickly, “Can’t. I’m opening the classic car show.” Gillian blushed as soon as she realised how eagerly she’d spoken.
“Good. It’s your job. That’s why I refused, amongst other reasons. So… Sunday?”
“This isn’t the city, you know. Shops close around here on a Sunday.”
“Monday then?”
Out of excuses, Gillian nodded. She liked how desperate and persistent Viola was to tie her down to a date. Okay, not a date exactly, merely a meeting to assist her in finding her country attire. She would need to carefully consider how to dress Viola’s body in tweed, finding the best way to compliment her figure. It was the least she could do. Her body was beautiful, with gentle, subtle curves. Tweed would look fabulous on her.
“Thanks for the chat,” Viola added as she stood, pulling Gillian from her thoughts whilst presenting the very shape that occupied her thoughts.
“Oh… anytime,” Gillian stuttered.
