Page 53 of Beyond Her Manner
“That will be acceptable,” Viola replied, smirking as she walked away from the impossible woman she couldn’t seem to get enough of.
CHAPTER 13
Viola stuffed the last remnants of a chocolate muffin into her mouth as she sat at the breakfast bar. Mrs Johnson spent the morning baking a selection of sugary delights in anticipation of Caroline’s visit, and she was unable to resist scoffing one with her coffee as an afternoon treat.
Her eyes tried to focus through the rain-splattered window to the horizon, where she and Gillian had ridden only days before. The memory of that ride was vivid in her mind — the thrumming of Dudley’s hooves; the wind against her face, blowing through her hair; and the comforting presence of Gillian behind her.
Viola sighed as she traced a finger along the glass, following the trails of raindrops as they joined together and lost their battle against gravity. The landscape outside was a stark contrast now. Even softened by the rain, it held the same allure, stirring a desire inside her to be back there with Gillian.
An unmistakable vibration pulled her from her thoughts. Caroline was arriving in the helicopter she had booked for the weekend. Clambering from her stool, she made her way to the back hall and opened the door as the helicopter touched down on the grass.
She waved at Caroline as she emerged from it and beckoned her inside. The tall woman, in her late fifties, carried herself with an athletic grace. Her dark brown fringe fell into her eyes before she flicked it away with a practiced gesture, causing her high ponytail to swing from side to side.
“V, this place is beautiful, even in a downpour! The photographs do not do it justice,” Caroline said as she reached the door, shaking water droplets from her coat before stepping inside. “You’ve bagged yourself a stunner.”
“It is rather,” Viola agreed, pulling her into a warm hug.
Caroline pulled back after a moment, a hint of regret in her eyes. “Bad news, I’m afraid. I need to be back in London tomorrow for an urgent meeting. Sorry.”
“Oh. I’d booked us Sunday lunch,” Viola said, her shoulders sagging.” I was going to fly us there.”
Caroline scrunched her face. “We have tonight, and then you can fly me back to Battersea.”
Struggling to disguise the disappointment on her face, Viola nodded her agreement. She was looking forward to showing Caroline around the estate. She waved at her regular pilot, Douglas, as he walked across the lawn to the front of the house, briefcase in hand. Like clockwork, she could make out the distant sound of crunching gravel coming from the front of the house as his car arrived to collect him.
“Come on in,” she said, shutting the back door and taking Caroline’s coat. “I’ll give you a whistle-stop tour before our guests arrive for dinner.”
“Guests?”
“Yes,” Viola confirmed as she hung up the coat. Noticing a draught coming from the cellar door beside her, she pushed it closed with her foot. “Gillian will be joining us and Bridget, her friend. She lives in the village too.”
Caroline frowned. “Gillian. Gillian Carmichael?”
“Yes.” Viola laughed.
“The self-same woman you’ve done nothing but moan about since you got here?”
“I’ve got to know her a little since then.”
Or more likely a hell of a lot. She knew more about Gillian than anyone did, even Bridget. Knowing things about people didn’t exactly translate to knowing them. In this case, though, she had a good idea of who Gillian was, and the butterflies circling her stomach from thinking about her told her she liked what she saw.
“You would have to get to know her a lot to invite her to dinner. Hang on. Didn’t you say she was hot?”
“No, I recall you suggested she was hot. And yes, I have got to know her, and she’s teaching me to ride.” Noticing the cheeky grin forming on Caroline’s face, she quickly clarified. “A horse, Caroline! Goodness. It’s so easy to talk to her. She doesn’t see me as a celebrity; she sees me as me. We seem to click in an odd way.” Viola stopped, realising she may be overly justifying her new friendship.
“I for one am glad you have found afriend. Just don’t get too comfortable or you won’t ever want to go back to work. You are, after all, closing the Proms in September.”
Viola groaned audibly. She had forgotten. In fact, she’d forgotten entirely about work, living quite contentedly in her Kingsford bubble.
Caroline tilted her head in response. “We agreed it would be a good way to ease you back in.”
“I know. Will you be there?”
“I can’t, V. Sorry. I’ll be in L.A.”
Viola felt the pangs of loneliness that had recently subsided rise inside her again. This would be her first performance without her mum. There would be no one to help her prepare. No one she could practise the songs to, even though it wasingrained in her, as they all were. There would be no one there for her when she came offstage, to chill with and enjoy a glass of something. A wave of panic swept through her as she realised there was no longer anyone to moderate her, to keep her on track, to keep her accountable. Her mum’s voice sounded in her head: ‘One and done.’ It was something she always said in the dressing room when they enjoyed a celebratory drink.
“Are you okay?” Caroline asked, catching her eye.
