Page 74 of Beyond Her Manner
Viola couldn’t help smiling, her nerves slowly giving way to calm just as a knock from the front door resounded. “Well then,” she said, taking a deep breath, “we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
Gillian tilted her head. “We?”
“They are as much your guests as mine. I mean, you invited them, not me. I don’t even know most of them.”
“Then we greet them together.”
Viola felt Gillian’s hand slip around her back, resting on her hip and guiding her to the front door. It felt good there, like it belonged.
Half of Kingsford appeared at the door, and the other half was further down the drive. Relief washed over Viola as the great hall filled to the band’s tune and faces filled with delight at the casino tables. What she hadn’t counted on was every guest having a copy ofCountry Lifein hand, ready for her to sign.
Having satisfied them all with a signature on the cover, she took herself off to a corner of the room, hoping to disappear for a while. She watched Gillian mingle with the guests, her laughter feeling like a soft melody that carried through the room and tightened her chest.
She was a striking contrast to the woman Viola had come to know over the past few months. This was not the Gillian who was in the throes of navigating the challenges of her new life with a subdued demeanour. This was the confident, commanding, and self-assured figure who had made such a lasting impression on her from their first encounter. It was as if she was stepping back into a role she was born to play — a performer on her own stage. This was Gillian in her natural habitat, a place where she felt at home and where her true essence shone brightest. Gillian was not merely acting; she was embodying the role she thrived in.
As the evening wore on, Viola couldn’t take her eyes off her. Despite dancing and chatting with everyone, Gillian didn’t falter once; it only appeared to energise her. The locals looked to be enjoying themselves, too, with free-flowing alcohol and a myriad of games to keep them entertained. It stemmed Viola’s nerves to see everyone relaxed.
The major caught her and coaxed her into a dance. As soon as they stepped off the dance floor, her eyes were searching for Gillian. He was launching into a story about his latest classic car purchase when a welcome hand pressed against her upper arm, gently tugging her away and rescuing her from any further conversation.
“You don’t mind if I steal her, do you, Major?” Gillian asked, not waiting for an answer.
Viola flashed him a polite smile of appreciation for the dance, only to notice his tongue practically hanging out. His gaze had locked onto Gillian, eyes sharp and hungry, like a predator stalking its prey. A flutter of anger and jealousy stirred inside her as Gillian steered her towards Elouise and Louisa. She pushed the feelings away, knowing it was unlikely Gillian felt anything for him except contempt.
Viola felt Gillian’s guiding hand slip away as they stepped out of the crowd and joined the two women. Gillian angled herself towards Viola before taking a deliberate step back, creating a sudden distance between them. It felt odd, especially after how close they’d been before everyone arrived. Why was Gillian pulling away now? Viola’s mind raced for an explanation. Was she trying to avoid giving the impression that they may be more than friends to the villagers?
“Are we enjoying ourselves, ladies?” Gillian asked.
Elouise nodded. “Louisa and I love a bit of gambling, don’t we, Louisa?”
“Indeed,” Louisa agreed. “Viola, this is a masterpiece. The best party we’ve been to in years.” She stopped, looking at Gillian as she bit her lip.
“Actually, this was all Gillian’s doing,” Viola clarified.
Both women looked visibly relieved. “In that case, Gillian, you have outdone yourself.”
The two Lous excused themselves quickly at waves from friends.
“See?” Viola said. “The villagers do embrace change. You should give them more credit.”
“I don’t believe they are ready to embrace all change,” Gillian countered, “and not the particular change you are insinuating.”
Viola conceded the point. Accepting a change in the ball’s theme was hardly the same as embracing someone they’d always seen as heterosexual as something else, even though it should have been.
She sighed, wishing Gillian could be herself, whoever that was. Instead, she was a butterfly in a jar, and Viola wanted to set her free. But whilst Gillian clung to these rigid ideas of how people should behave, she never would be free. She allowed herself to be shaped by the opinions of others, and in a close-knit society such as this — one she’d been part of for decades — breaking free from that would be no simple feat. It would require something worth risking it all for, something strong enough to tip the balance against her fears. Viola couldn’t help but wonder and hope that she could be that something — thatsomeone.
Gillian admired Viola’s body as it moved gracefully around the dance floor. The more formal music she planned for the evening had given way to more modern tunes, as requested by severalof the younger villagers. The older generations were politely covering their yawns with their hands; she knew they would be making excuses to leave soon.
Viola caught her eye and smiled, making Gillian’s heart skip a beat. As the song ended, Gillian took the opportunity to speak to Viola.
“May I suggest you thank everyone for coming? It will allow the older villagers to make their escape and anyone under sixty to let their hair down a little.”
“Good idea.”
Viola nodded and headed off to the staircase as Gillian strode over to the band to stop them from beginning a new song. Bridget joined her, her cheeks were flushed as they always were after a couple of drinks passed her lips.
“Everything is going swimmingly, don’t you think?” she exclaimed with a little bounce, her excitement bubbling over.
“Yes. Perfectly so.” The word reminded her of the annoying photographer fromCountry Life. She smiled at the recollection of giving him short shrift.
