Page 101 of Beyond Her Manner
“Why would I want to leave Kingsford?” Gillian asked, perplexed by the notion.
“I don’t know, to look at the rest of the planet. It does exist, you know. There is a whole other world outside those gates.”
Gillian wasn’t sure what answer to give. She knew that; she just held little interest in it. “I’ve never felt the need to leave or had reason to,” she replied, her voice shaky.
“Now you do.”
“What do you mean?” Gillian asked, sitting up.
“I mean, that I can’t stay here.” Viola pulled her knees up to her waist and leaned into them, hugging them. “I have a career, a worldwide career. I’m leaving for America in a few weeks. Then I will be in Europe for some time. I want you to come with me, at least for some of it.”
When the cruel light of day kicks in with all its problems and limitations, it gives a good whack, Gillian thought to herself.
“What is this?” Viola pushed when Gillian didn’t respond. “A casual fling.”
“Of course not,” Gillian scoffed, annoyed at the sheer temerity of the question.
“I have a right to ask for clarification about what the future looks like. What you want,” Viola continued, her voice softer now, but no less determined.
“I can’t just up and leave; I have Kingsford to run. There’s so much to do,” Gillian said, her hands fidgeting as if trying to grasp onto something solid, something familiar.
“You have Bridget,” Viola urged gently.
“But the business is beginning to bloom.”
“Bridget is more than capable.”
Gillian scoffed.
“She is.” Viola leaned back into the pillow, covered herself with the duvet, and crossed her arms. “You just make her nervous. You know she looks up to you and wants to impress you. As I’ve come to realise, you are quite difficult to impress.”
“What am I without it?” Gillian said with a deep breath.
“Your identity isn’t Kingsford,” Viola answered softly, her previous hardness giving way. “And I’m not asking you to forget it, Gillian. I’m asking you to stop letting it define you. You’ve not moved back in; that’s huge. You’ve turned it into a proper business; that’s also huge. Maybe it’s time to step away, give each other some space to grow.”
“Stepping away is very different from stepping back. The former being more permanent than the latter,” Gillian said quietly, her voice holding a subtle sadness as the idea of letting go tightened her chest.
“Then step back for a time. You’ve made great strides this past year.”
She had been through a lot — more than she could have ever anticipated. It marked the departure of Jonathon from this world and the unexpected arrival of Viola bringing turmoil into her life. The loss of Kingsford, a place that once anchored her,was devastating. It was a blow that nearly broke her. And then, thanks to the woman who took everything from her, she had regained it. It was returned to her through no effort on her part when she wasn’t entitled to it in the first place. She’d felt entitled to it, seeing it as payment for thirty-five years — her thoughts paused — of what?
How should she describe the last thirty-five years? Her mind was reaching for the word ‘suffering’, but she stopped it. Things with Jonathon hadn’t been that bad; they could have been worse. He wasn’t violent; he left her to her own devices, letting her run things like their social life. All her time and energy given to the village she gave willingly; she’d enjoyed her role and embraced it. It gave her something in return, a sense of belonging when she’d never belonged anywhere before. The manor became her refuge, somewhere she could hide away and pretend to be someone else, but she had done that to herself. She allowed it to lock her in time, in a vacuum.
Did she want to escape it? Forging a new relationship with it was one thing, leaving it, walking away from it, for an extended period — how would that look? How would it feel? She’d dipped a toe into a different realm, and now she could feel the door closing behind her. There was no way back, not that she wanted to return; she loved Viola and wanted to be with her. She just didn’t know how to navigate this new world.
“How do I go out there now? Who am I when I open the lodge door? Being here with you, naked,” she said, smiling at the thought, “is very different than being naked in front of everyone else.”
Viola shifted closer, resting her head gently on Gillian’s chest, her fingers tracing light circles against her skin. “You,” she began softly, “are you. However that looks. Always unapologetically you. People will get used to it, and a lot quickerthan you think. I’m sure the village gossips will do most of the work for you.”
Gillian let out a soft laugh, but it faded quickly. Her hand absentmindedly stroked Viola’s hair as her thoughts turned inward. “The message I took from my experience with Hen was one of shame. It didn’t change how I felt, but it added something heavy. A weight. A sense of wrongness.”
Viola’s head lifted slightly, her eyes meeting Gillian’s. “You need to understand,” she said firmly, “what we did last night — it was beautiful. There’s nothing shameful about it. Two people enjoying each other, sharing something so intimate, what does it matter what those bodies look like? It’s a meeting of minds.”
Gillian looked away as the words sank in. “I know,” she whispered, her voice tinged with a mix of acceptance and hesitation. “I do know.”
“It takes time to reprogram yourself from bigoted views forced onto you. You have as much right to be who you are and live how you want as any other person on this planet and, more particularly, in Kingsford.”
“In my case, it’s taken over thirty-five years. I’ve just kept telling myself things to keep the feelings down,” Gillian murmured, her voice heavy. “It’s easier to convince yourself of a lie than face the truth.”
