Page 24 of Beyond Her Manner
“It’s about community.”
Viola raised an eyebrow. “Community?”
“Yes. It’s more of a social club than anything, especially for an ageing population like Kingsford. It brings the villagers together once a week. They can talk about what ails them, howthey need help fixing something, that the shop is stocking a new brand of cereal. It is the wheelhouse of any small village.”
Viola was dying to point out that it sounded like the only reason Gillian was going was for the latest gossip, but she didn’t have the strength.
“It allows us to care for each other,” Gillian continued, hardly drawing breath, “and provide when one of our own is in need. What if none of us bothered to attend?” She shook her head in disgust as she added, “The manor has never failed to be represented in more than four hundred years. It’s tradition. Your absence is breaking down the very fabric of society.”
Viola had been accused of a few things over the years; breaking down the fabric of society was certainly a new one.
She blew out an exaggerated sigh. “And there was me hoping you were coming to apologise.”
“For what?” Gillian barked. “What reason would I have to come to you to apologise?”
“For sticking your nose into my business,” Viola insisted, wondering if the woman was being deliberately obtuse or if she’d forgotten their previous altercation.
Gillian stuck her nose in the air. “The Kingsford Estate is everyone’s business. It’s our business when you don’t clean out the lake and it clogs up and runs into the village. It’s our business when you let dead wood hang off trees over the lanes and it hits our vehicles.” Turning to Viola, her tone hardened. “Being lady of the manor involves more than parting with money to buy a building. It’s a way of life. A privilege. A role. You have a duty—”
“I am sick of hearing about my duty,” Viola replied sternly, wishing she could shout at the woman yet unable to summon the effort it would take. “How I need to open this or organise that and give my property over for some event.”
“Now look.”
“No, you look,” Viola snapped, sick of the woman’s rudeness.
Gillian pulled herself back, as if it was the first time someone had ever stood up to her.
“I don’t care that you were once lady of the manor or whatever,” Viola replied, anger rippling through her voice. “No one has asked me; they’ve told me. This is my estate, and I won’t have people telling me what I should be doing with it. What are you even doing here? This is private property. You old-guard elites think you are entitled to swan about wherever you like. You don’t own Kingsford anymore; it’s mine.” Taking a quick breath, she added, “Can’t I have any peace?”
“This is a public footpath,” Gillian was quick to reply.
Fuck. Viola was at a loss for words. How did she not know that? Her solicitor had mentioned one. She’d assumed it was somewhere else on the estate, not practically leading past her house.
“And as for peace,” Gillian continued, “I assumed that would be the last thing on your mind considering the number of people in attendance last night and the level of noise you were making. Helicopters circling in the small hours, keeping us all awake. No consideration for the villagers.”
The main appeal of the party had been to piss off Gillian, yet in the cold light of day and with her head aching, Viola was regretting the party even more. Pissing off Gillian was one thing; having to deal with a pissed-off Gillian was another. The mild hangover was making her feel worse about everything. It always amplified her fears and anxieties, which was part of the reason her mum had stepped in all those years ago and helped her out. She’d stopped her partying, her excessive drinking, and put her on the right path. Her mum hadn’t been gone long, and already she’d slipped back into bad habits.
Viola felt her eyes begin to sting, and she pushed the thoughts away. Crying in front of Gillian Carmichael was not onthe agenda. She’d never hear the end of it. Thankfully Gillian started up again, her vitriol providing a surprisingly welcome distraction.
“Why even come to the countryside if you intend to make noises like that? It should be kept in the city. True peace is found in the morning birdsong or giving a neighbour a lift to the hospital or having one’s cook prepare a meal for someone in need. Even in collecting the fruit from the estate and making preserves for the villagers and throwing them acivilisedball once a year to give them something to look forward to. Holding a jumble sale so others might enjoy items we have lost our love for, or a book club to encourage reading and stave off loneliness and boredom.. You youngsters have no idea what it is to be old. I wouldn’t presume to understand it myself, of course, but I see it when I care to look.”
The woman was baffling. She seemed to genuinely care about the community — provided she was the one in control. Gillian had devoted her life to a role she believed was intrinsically linked to ownership of the manor. Losing her home meant losing the identity and status she’d spent years cultivating. Viola couldn’t see how a building could define a person’s worth, let alone their status in society. Gillian, however, clearly did, and clung to what she’d lost with a conviction Viola would never comprehend.
“If you must know, it was a present to my late mum.”
Gillian frowned. “Late…?”
“Yes.” Viola took in a deep breath. As she let it out, she added, “She died suddenly, two weeks after I bought Kingsford for her.”
Silence hung in the air until Gillian finally spoke. “It was never your intention to live here?”
Viola shook her head. “Not full-time.”
“Why not put it back up for sale then?” Gillian pressed.
“I’d paid deposits and contracted work to be carried out. She may have only visited twice, but Mum had a strong vision forKingsford, and I wanted to make that happen, despite her not being here to enjoy it.” Gillian’s face appeared to curl at the mention of changes being made, which annoyed Viola further. “Now you see why I am here. When, really, I would rather be anywhere else,” she added firmly.
“I know grief,” Gillian said, nodding her agreement.
