Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
A knock at the door made Gillian jump. She rubbed her eyes as she got to her feet to answer it; her eyelids were heavy and dry from staring at the wall for the past hour. Her mind was running in circles, caught in an endless loop of thoughts of Viola and how things had ended between them. It clung to her like lead, pulling her down and making her limbs feel heavier with every step she took towards the door.
Why couldn’t these feelings go away? Why did they have to surface in the first place? They did nothing but cause problems. She’d succeeded in keeping them at bay for so long, and now they had decided to betray her with Viola. She was sure, given time, they would dissipate, and Viola said she would be away with work soon. As much as she would miss her, some space would do Gillian a world of good.
She answered the door to find Viola standing there, her hands stuffed in her pockets and her jaw tight.
“Viola… what are you doing here?” Gillian asked, her grip tightening on the door handle.
“Can we talk? It’s not about us. I won’t go there again. I promise,” Viola said, her voice quieter than usual yet carrying a weight that made it impossible to ignore.
It took Gillian a moment to reply; the flutter in her chest was doing nothing to help her. She stood back. “Come in.”
As Viola entered, Gillian noticed the wide berth she gave her, stepping around her and into the sitting room. She followed, taking her usual seat as her visitor paced the room.
Gillian’s eye caught the clothes horse, laden with drying clothes in front of the window. She hadn’t expected guests today and wished she’d left it in the kitchen, out of sight. She eyed it with quiet irritation as it reminded her of what she’d been reduced to.
“Will you not sit?” she asked, gesturing to the chair opposite.
Viola sat without answering.
“Is everything okay?” Gillian asked, beginning to worry.
“I’m leaving Kingsford,” Viola said bluntly. “I’m selling up. It’s for the best. Plus, work will take me away for a while.”
With confusion and disbelief bubbling inside her, Gillian tried to process Viola’s words as she continued speaking. Her sentences spilling out in a breathless stream.
“It will give us some space. You some space, I mean. I don’t need space. Sorry, I promised I wouldn’t mention that—”
Gillian’s frustration boiled over, her voice cutting through Viola’s rambling like a sharp blade. “If you’re leaving because of me, then I’m not sure how you thought you’d avoid mentioning us! Will you at least vet the buyer, or will you sell it to the highest bidder and damn us all to hell? Don’t forget the covenant — everything I left must stay with the manor!”
Viola’s eyes widened, hurt flashing across her face. Gillian wasn’t sure if she cared anymore.
“Everything?” Viola said, her voice laced with bitterness. “Including the priceless lost Gentileschi painting you left in the attic? Or would you like that back too?”
“What?” Gillian leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
“If you would give me a minute to explain why I’m here instead of jumping down my throat, I’ll tell you. The painting you despised appeared in the Country Life article; remember, I hung it above the fireplace. Arte spotted it, and to cut a long story short, the Courtauld Institute currently have it. They say it’s a lost painting by Artemisia Gentileschi.”
Gillian couldn’t contain her laughter at the foolish suggestion. “It can’t be. Jonathon was always picking up old forgeries, hoping they were originals. Do you know who she is?”
Viola rolled her eyes. “I am well versed by now, yes.”
“It would be worth a fortune.”
“Yes, it is,” Viola replied flatly. “Millions, apparently.”
Gillian opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her mind was whirling again. Viola didn’t appear to be joking; there was an unfamiliar gravity to her demeanour and serious lines etched on her face.
“Thankfully it wasn’t itemised on the schedule, so legally, it’s mine.”
“You legally own the painting?”
“Yes.”
Too restless to sit anymore, Gillian stood and began pacing the room. The answer to all her problems had been right under her roof all along. How could she have been so blind? The loss of the manor was entirely her fault, and now, with the painting discovered, Viola owned that as well. How could such a thing even be possible? The thought sent a surge of anger and confusion through her, making her tremble.
“That’s a good thing. My solicitor said if it formed part of the covenant we would be in a sticky situation. As it isn’t, and it is mine, I have asked him to draw up a formal document confirming it was passed to me with the sale of the estate… and that I am now giving it to you.”
Gillian turned and stared at Viola in disbelief.
“If you sell the painting, it will give you more than enough money to buy back the estate. You can have your material possessions back and everything important to you — including your title. I hope they make you happy.”
She ignored Viola’s dig. As much as she wanted it all back, she wouldn’t accept charity.
“I can’t accept such a gift .”
“I’m not gifting it to you, Gillian. I’m returning your property to you . If you wish to have it back.”
Their eyes locked.
“I do,” Gillian replied softly, unsettled by the formality of their conversation.
“Good. It’s rightfully yours regardless of legal ownership, and I can put that right. I’ll have my solicitor get in touch with you, and he’ll give you some contact details for people who can help you sell it. He can then arrange the sale of the estate back to you, once you’ve sold the painting. Is the price I paid you acceptable?”
“You don’t want more?” Gillian questioned, her brow furrowing. “You put a lot of work into it.”
“Work you didn’t approve of, so no, it doesn’t feel right to increase the value,” she said with a firmness Gillian didn’t feel she could debate. “Here is my solicitor’s card.”
Gillian took it, her fingers brushing against Viola’s. The brief contact sent a jolt through her as she examined the name and number.
“Thank you,” she murmured, feeling grateful and yet uneasy.
“Maybe we can walk back along a path after all. You can return to where you belong. A time before…”
Was she about to add the word ‘me’? Her forlorn expression spoke for her. Gillian wasn’t sure she wanted to return to exactly where she had been, though she possibly wanted to be somewhere close. She wasn’t even sure she could regret everything that had passed. It had brought Viola to her door after all, even if she was about to exit back through it.
“I appreciate you bringing this to my attention.” As she spoke, she realised how formal she sounded too. Was this what they had been reduced to? “Where will you go?”
“First back to my flat in London, and then I’m heading to Australia for a tour. I’ll head over early, acclimatise to the heat… and being alone again.”
Gillian’s stomach tightened as they fell into silence. It was hard enough coming to terms with the thought of Viola leaving Kingsford, let alone being on the other side of the world.
“When will you be back?”
“Around Christmas time.”
Gillian nodded.
“Then I’ll head to America after the new year until the spring, then onto Europe.”
“I’m happy for you, that you have a packed schedule. Something to keep you busy.”
“Me too. The distraction will be… welcome,” Viola replied quietly, with a strained smile.
“I didn’t mean for things to end like this,” Gillian admitted. “To drive you away. I will miss our chats and our odd little adventures together.”
Gillian took the short nod from Viola as agreement as the room filled with stifling tension.
Viola broke the strained silence by clearing her throat. “May I ask a favour?” Her tone was polite, distant, devoid of emotion, like she’d given up on the world.
Gillian looked at Viola, forcing herself to meet her gaze. A sadness shimmered in her eyes. Gillian’s body tensed as a surge of guilt and helplessness washed over her. “Of course,” she replied, her voice soft yet cautious, bracing herself for what was coming.
Viola hesitated, her fingers lightly tapping against the arm of the chair as though searching for the right words. “Would you look after the place for me until the sale goes through?”
Gillian blinked, feeling a sharp pang at the thought of Viola leaving. She nodded, trying to mask the disappointment that threatened to surface. “Yes,” she said, her voice steady despite the knot forming in her throat. “I’d be honoured.”
Viola’s lips twitched into what may have been a small, forced smile. Gillian couldn’t be sure; it disappeared almost as quickly as it came. “Thank you,” she replied, her tone formal and guarded. “Feel free to use it as you need.”
Gillian nodded whilst a million thoughts raced through her mind. Was this how things were going to end between them? So stiff, so painfully polite?
Viola sat forward in her seat. “If you need anything or have questions about the sale—”
“Yes,” Gillian cut in, hopeful she may suggest calling her.
“Then contact my solicitor; he will handle everything.” Viola’s voice wavered slightly, as though she, too, sensed the finality in her words.
Gillian opened her mouth to speak, to say something meaningful. All that came out was a quiet, “Okay.”
The formality of it all — the businesslike tone, the solicitor — made the emptiness in Gillian’s stomach grow. She wanted to ask if this was goodbye, if Viola truly planned to disappear from her life as abruptly as she’d entered it, but she couldn’t find the courage to say it aloud.
Viola stood. “I suppose that’s everything,” she murmured, making her way to the door.
Gillian followed her through to the hall, skirting around her to open the front door even when she knew by opening it she was helping Viola step through it and leave.
“Goodbye, Gillian,” Viola said, her voice distant, as though she was already half gone.
Was that a final farewell? Her way of saying they wouldn’t be speaking again? The question sat heavily inside Gillian as Viola stepped outside onto the path.
Before Gillian could muster a response, Viola turned and walked away, her pace brisk and determined. Gillian stood frozen, watching Viola’s hands lift to her face. Was she crying? A wave of uncertainty hit her, tightening in her chest. She wanted to call out something, though what words she didn’t know.
She stared down the empty path long after Viola vanished from sight, her gaze lingering on where she’d last seen her. Slowly, she closed the door, her fingers absentmindedly grazing her cheek as she felt something on them. Realising her eyes were damp, she brushed them with the back of her hand.
She retraced her steps to the sitting room and collapsed back into her seat, the weight of the past thirty minutes crashing over her. Had Viola’s visit happened, or was it a dream? She was about to regain everything she wanted, yet instead of the relief or excitement she imagined, an unsettling hollowness lowered onto her chest, meeting the nausea which rose from her stomach.
Viola wiped her eyes as she closed the gate of the lodge behind her, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her harder than she cared to admit. She’d promised herself that once inside, she would keep her feelings in check, compartmentalise, but that was easier said than done. Gillian made her feel things even when she tried not to. She did so even when she was angry, which she clearly had been when she realised she was mistaken about Jonathon’s painting — and, worse, that she held no rights to it at all.
She could see the confusion and fury in Gillian’s eyes, yet beneath there was something deeper that tugged at Viola. It was the way Gillian’s voice stiffened, her tone deliberately neutral, as if she were trying to mask how much she cared; the way her mouth opened to speak only to close again as if she were holding back words she didn’t dare speak.
Exhaling slowly, she walked the well-trodden route down the drive. The tension in her body and the knot in her chest reminded her how complicated things had become.
“Ah, Viola,” came Bridget’s voice, making her jump. “I was coming to invite you to tea next week.”
She hadn’t even noticed the woman walking towards her. A quick, subtle dab of her eyes was in order; unfortunately, it didn’t get past Bridget’s notice.
“Are you okay? I’ve seen many people leave Gillian’s crying, even done it once or twice myself. I never expected you to be among us.”
“I’m leaving Kingsford, selling up,” Viola said quickly, hoping it would be enough to divert her.
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Bridget blinked, then eyed Viola with curiosity and concern.
“I have a tour of Australia until Christmas, and then I’ll be in America for a while after the new year, followed by Europe, so, you know, lots to keep me busy. Plus, it’s all a bit too much living in the countryside; this place is a lot of work. I love it, and I find a strange kind of peace here, even if I miss the city, but I mainly find burden and responsibility.”
“Might you visit occasionally, for peace, without the burden and responsibility?” Bridget asked gently.
“I don’t think so.” Viola looked towards the lodge, then wondered if Gillian was looking out at them through her binoculars. She turned back to Bridget, who was staring at her with a softness about her eyes.
“You know, when she first came here, she didn’t speak much about her past. I never questioned her about it. I assumed she would talk about it if she wanted to, but she never did. I got the impression she didn’t think much of her mother.”
Viola nodded.
“She might not let people in, but it doesn’t mean we can’t see in. She isn’t that good at hiding things. She’s only human — don’t tell her I said that.” Bridget smirked. “She and Jonathon were never Cinderella and Prince Charming, you know, yet somehow, they made it work. I saw her eyes drift enough times to women to get an understanding of the truth. At first, I thought she was admiring their fashion, but I sensed it was more the shape of what lies beneath that enraptured her.”
Unsure how to respond, Viola remained silent. She couldn’t confirm anything; that would be outing Gillian.
“I’ve noticed that same look directed at you recently. You seem to have awoken something in her. Which is remarkable, really,” Bridget added, “considering there was a time she blamed you for everything.”
Viola smiled, knowing the impact she had made. Not that it changed anything. “She’s too proud.”
Bridget placed a hand on Viola’s arm, her expression calm yet firm. “She always was. Give her time. Leave her to understand what she’s missing. People come to terms with themselves in their own way.”
Viola sighed and nodded as uncertainty filled her eyes. “I hope so,” she murmured. “For her sake.”
“I know it’s not something we can ask of you, but I urge you to sell the manor to someone who will be sensitive to Kingsford… and its inhabitants.” Bridget glanced at the lodge.
Unsure exactly how much of Gillian’s future financial situation she should disclose, Viola decided less was best. Like her sexuality, it wasn’t for her to mention.
“I promise you, only someone Gillian approves of will buy it.”
“Thank you,” Bridget replied, exhaling a breath. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too. Keep in touch, won’t you?”
“I will,” Bridget answered, reaching forward and hugging Viola.
With a rub of Viola’s shoulder, Bridget flashed her a smile, and they parted, walking their separate ways. Viola was going to miss her. Bridget was down to earth, honest, and someone grounding for Gillian, whether either of them realised it or not. She knew how to read her friend like an open book, never missing a beat.
Feeling the need to lift her spirits, she headed to the stable. Dudley would cheer her up. As she approached his stall, he whinnied at her, stretching his neck over his door.
“Hey, Dudley.”
His lips twitched as Viola stroked his nose.
“I haven’t got anything for you, I’m afraid. You just get me today. I hope that’s enough.”
He snorted, scattering a puff of warm breath into the cool air.
“I’m going to miss you, almost as much as I’ll miss your annoying mistress. I was looking forward to spending more time with you.”
A tear ran down her cheek at the realisation she wouldn’t see the horse again. She wanted to leave as soon as possible in hopes it would ease her pain, but the thought of not being at Kingsford caused pain too. She knew she must force herself to leave, but it didn’t make it any easier to do. She needed to heal away from here and come to terms with not being enough for Gillian to push herself out of her comfort zone.
Dudley nudged against her hand as she stroked him. Taking out her phone, she wrapped her arm under his neck and pressed her face to his. She smiled, thinking back to when she felt a little afraid of him. Dudley nuzzled against her shoulder as she took a selfie.
“Bye, Dudley.”
Pulling herself away she gave him one last stroke on the nose and walked away. The sound of his feet stamping against the stable floor made her tears flow again.
As she neared the manor, she blinked through her blurry vision and could make out Agatha in the distance. Wiping her sleeve across her damp eyes, she caught sight of the cat weaving her way around the far side of the building. Curious, she followed at a careful distance.
When she rounded the corner, she arrived just in time to see a tail flick out of sight, vanishing through a cellar window. Noticing a small pane of glass missing — just large enough for a cat to slip through — she crouched down, leaning closer to peer into the shadows below.
“Agatha.”
From somewhere in the darkness, a small, rather disgruntled meow echoed back.
“That’s how you’ve been getting in,” she groaned, realising the cellar door, which never closed properly, didn’t have a faulty catch at all. Someone was using it to sneak inside unnoticed. She was going to miss the quirky little cat too.
As she stood, her eyes caught the bench where she often sat with Gillian. She approached it, hesitating before finally taking a seat. The memories rushed back — Gillian’s smiles, their shared honesty, the way her presence felt both calming and electric. Viola would never regret getting to know her; those moments had shaped something in her.
As for falling in love with her, that she might regret. Gillian Carmichael wasn’t the kind of person you could forget easily, no matter how hard you tried. It scared Viola the most — knowing no matter where she went, part of her would always feel tethered to Gillian.