Page 71 of Beyond Her Manner
“Perfect!”
If the man said perfect one more time, she may have to injure him.
“It suits you,” Gillian said, nodding at the Land Rover as soon as Colin called the shot.
“It suits my outfit, not me.”
Gillian smirked. “True.”
“We’ll take some extra internal and external shots, pop a drone up, and then we’ll be out of your hair,” Colin said, appearing beside them.
“Great.”
“I understand you’ll be at the Proms next month,” he said, seemingly attempting to make conversation.
“Yes.”
“My wife and I are going this year.”
“Oh,” Viola said, a little too questioning. Colin wasn’t the type of man she would have expected to attend the Proms.
As if picking up on her confusion, he said, “It’s not my thing, but the wife loves it. She’s been badgering me about going for years. At least I’ll know someone on the stage.”
Viola gave him a quick smile as he walked off; it soon disappeared at the reminder that she’d have to go back to work soon and leave Kingsford for a while.
“Drink?” Viola asked Gillian as they walked toward the manor, assuming she could use several.
“Yes, please!”
Viola was about to tell Gillian to take a seat as they entered the drawing room only to notice her collapsing onto the nearest sofa. It brought a smile to her face at how relaxed Gillian was around her, or was it the house she felt at ease in? Viola poured a small measure of whisky into a glass for herself and then what she considered to be a normal measure for Gillian.
“Thank you for today. I wouldn’t have managed it without you… and your Chesterfield… your tea set, photographs, Land Rover, horse, and riding jacket, which I must remember to give you back.”
“Keep it. It fits you better than it will ever fit me, and as for the rest, let’s not make a habit of it,” Gillian replied with a neutral tone, as she took the glass Viola offered her. “There is only so much humiliation I’m willing to take — even for you.”
“Thank you, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked for your help today,” Viola said, letting out a quiet sigh as she sat beside her, realising just how much she had asked of her.
“It’s fine,” Gillian said with a wave of her hand. “I enjoyed giving the photographer a piece of my mind at least.”
Viola smiled. That moment had been the highlight of her day. Everything else only reinforced her feeling that she didn’t quite fit in at Kingsford.
“I don’t feel I belong here,” she said. “I feel like a fraud. You know I paid a contractor, whom I don’t even know and don’t remember employing, hundreds of pounds the other day for trimming hedges. I have no idea if I even own them. He said he did it every year.”
“Ah, Wakes & Sons. Yes, that is legitimate, and crucial work I’m afraid.”
“Good to know. I’m a city girl, out of my depth, hoping I don’t drown. I’m not sure I deserve Kingsford.”
“What are any of us deserving of? That tea set belonged to Jonathon’s family, and you might have noticed the photographs were of his grandparents. Sometimes we must borrow a bit of someone else’s history to get us through. I didn’t have to be rich to live here, and you don’t have to know about the countryside to deserve to live here. You’ll pick it up, and if you need help in the process, you only have to ask.”
“Thank you,” Viola said, flashing her a tender smile.
“It’s me that needs to thank you. I always hoped it might be me making an appearance inCountry Lifeone day. Not that they would have reason to feature me, but I always thought Kingsford deserved some exposure. It has that now, thanks to you.”
Viola smiled, pleased that Gillian hadn’t found the day to be all that bad.
“Sorry he thought you were my assistant.”
Gillian shrugged.
