Page 92 of Beyond Her Manner
“Great, and what about you?”
Gillian paused, then answered with a newfound resolve, “I don’t need a title.”
CHAPTER 22
Gillian rummaged through the crowded assortment of coats hanging in the porch. Locating her own at the back, along with her scarf, she wrapped it around her neck. As she pulled the long, black wool coat over her heavy arms, the weight reminded her of how tired she was. Her whole body ached, exhausted from a day of preparations, the culmination of a month of organisation.
Although tempted to slip away to bed, she knew it would be bad form to leave her own New Year’s Eve party before midnight. A quick check of her watch revealed one more hour of loud music to endure. That was assuming everyone departed once the clock struck twelve, which was never guaranteed. It also meant one final hour in which Viola might still arrive — if she was coming.
With a deep sigh, Gillian pushed open the front door and stepped out into the darkness, making her way around to the back. The cold air bit against her cheeks and nipped at her stockinged legs, exposed by her knee-length dress. She didn’t care; it was refreshing to feel something other than the numbness and emptiness.
Reaching Hen’s bench, Gillian sat and gazed up at the stars in the clear, moonlit sky. They twinkled, as though watching over the world below, where everything shifted and moved in an endless dance. Her breath puffed out in small clouds, vanishing into the cold air — much like the passage of time — ushering in a new year, whether she was ready or not. What would it hold for her this time? Only one thing was important to her now, like she would suffocate without it.
A light in the distance caught Gillian’s breath. She stared at it, hesitant to hope, but it was too low to be a star and unmistakably moving. The familiar deep, rhythmic thumping — a sound unheard at Kingsford in months — echoed through the air, growing louder and louder as it neared. It wasn’t until the lawn was flooded with light and the helicopter began to descend, that she finally dared to believe Viola was here.
She watched, entranced, as the helicopter lowered itself to the ground in the distance. Silence followed as the blades stopped and the lights went out. Her ears pricked, listening for changes that would signal Viola was heading into the manor. She would give her some time to greet everyone before making an appearance — not wanting to compete for Viola’s attention in a crowd. Footsteps coming down the path told her she wouldn’t need to vie for Viola’s attention.
“I knew I’d find you here.” Viola’s voice broke through the shadows, making Gillian’s heart race.
“How?” Gillian asked, her lips pressing together in a faint smile.
Viola sat beside her, her face lit by the glow of the moonlight. “I first thought something was off when I saw flashing coloured lights coming from within the manor. It was when I stepped from the helicopter and heard ‘Come On, Eileen’ blaring that I knew you’d be outside. If you were outside, where else would you be other than here?”
A warm sense of belonging spread through Gillian, catching her off guard. Viola didn’t justseeher, she understood her to her core — understood her patterns, her habits. She let out a quiet sigh, leaning into the comfort of Viola’s presence.
“It’s not your usual repertoire,” Viola continued. “What happened to Mozart?”
“It was Bridget’s suggestion. I thought it might be good to try something different,” Gillian said, her voice barely masking the uncertainty within her.
“I can hear enough to tell me that everyone inside is having a great time.”
“They are, and that’s what matters,” Gillian replied with a smile, adding casually. “A lot has changed since you left.”
“Looks like it,” Viola said, shifting herself around to face Gillian. “Speaking of which, I forgot to leave this for the landing lights.” She held out a small remote control.
“It just proved useful, so keep it — just in case you need it again.” Gillian couldn’t help but notice the smile on Viola’s face as she put it into her pocket. It pulled a similar smile to her own lips. “How was Australia?”
“Warmer than here.”
“That’s not difficult.” Gillian tightened her coat around her. “Otherwise, a success?”
“Yes. Very successful. A sellout tour. No falling onstage. Couldn’t have been better.”
Gillian nodded, knowing it would be. She took a silent deep breath, aware that more needed to be said than simple pleasantries, and it needed to come from her. “I’m glad you came.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I wasn’t sure either,” Viola replied.
Gillian fidgeting with the sleeve of her coat. “I missed you.” She met Viola’s eyes, noticing an unmistakable smile on her face that brought hope to her heart.
“I missed you too.”
They shared a lingering look, smiling as the unspoken was finally beginning to surface.
Viola shifted, her eyes searching Gillian’s face. “So… what else has changed apart from the music?”
Gillian could hear the unspoken question beneath Viola’s words. She knew exactly what Viola wanted to know. Why was she invited? Her throat tightened, and she feared the words might refuse to come. The fluttering in her stomach threatened to consume her as unformed words tumbled through her mind. Closing her eyes she pushed everything away and spoke from the heart.
“I find myself missing something that I can’t seem to live without,” she started, her voice trembling slightly. “When you left, you took a part of me with you. I tried to convince myself I could go on, that I didn’t need you. I tried to bury everything, to forget, and I can’t. No matter how hard I’ve tried, I keep coming back to you. It’s like there’s this emptiness inside me nothing else can fill — not even this place.” She looked down, twisting her fingers together. “I don’t expect anything from you, but I can’t keep pretending. I needed you to know the truth.”
