‘No. Give me space. I’ll find you later.’ She backed up, intent on leaving, but an impulse made her add, ‘I think you love me, and I definitely love you, but maybe you need to find someone who will fund and support endless cycles. That’s what seems most important thing to you.’ Striding away along the river path, her shoulders bowed under the weight of their conflict.
If Kirsten wasn’t currently hosting her daughter’s birthday party, Gilly would be knocking at her friend’s door seeking a listening ear, sound advice and a hug. They’d spent several Wednesday Night Wines in Kirsten’s flat the past few weeks, bonding over sauvignon blanc and delicious desserts, accompanied by TV after Rosie’s bedtime. For someone so perky, Kirsten had seriously dark viewing tastes, and they were currently halfway through the first series ofYellowjackets,a chilling drama mystery causing Gilly nightmares. She hadn’t shared anything about IVF with trying to push the whole thing from her mind, but that’d change once she could get Kirsten alone. She needed to talk this out.
Heading for home, she paced the kitchen, struggling to untangle her thoughts about her relationship with Ariel, too distracted to notice the way the lightbulbs dimmed with her angst. She’d believed things were improving with walks along the gently flowing river and cinema dates in Southampton. They’d stayed up late several weekends listening to music and chatting, like in the first magical six months of their relationship. They’d even tried couples’ yoga, Ariel snorting with laughter when Gilly collapsed in a tangled knot on the floor, complaining about having no core strength.
Gilly had been happier at work too, the stern work persona softening to allow for occasional laughter and banter in the staff room. Consequently, her team seemed less intimidated than in her last headship, a good thing because she wanted them to approach her with any concerns or improvement ideas. But apparently Ariel had only been pretending to be okay, wearing a smiley mask while brooding on their fertility issues, and biding her time. Meaning in just under two weeks, there was a decision to make. Yes, or no? Bend, or break?
Anxiety knotting her stomach, Gilly changed into yoga pants and a baggy T-shirt before pushing her feet into trainers andleaving the flat. She needed to do something physical, to vent her frustrations. As she left the manor, another picture fell from the apartment wall and dented the wooden floor, despite her not slamming the door. Up in one corner of the lounge, there was a cracking sound, and a piece of elegant plasterwork crumbled away from ceiling, landing on the sofa they’d made love on.
Jogging down the gravel driveway, through the manor gate and along the main street, she glanced over at the newly painted citrus-yellow gate of Albie’s scaffolded cottage. The old man deserved kudos. The hard work he’d been able to harness with his huge personality and persuasive ways was obvious. Windows had now been repaired, draught-proofed and a secondary glazing fitted, walls were drying out after being replastered, and all the wooden floorboards were mended and ready for a coat of polish. The new timbers and re-thatching of the roof was underway, and it was obvious how charming the property would be when finished. They’d made a lot of progress in a short time.
Sweeping into the cottage she and Ariel owned, Gilly picked her way up the stairs, listening to the creaks and groans the wood emitted under her weight, and expecting one of her feet to disappear into a hole at any moment. But each step held, stronger than it looked.
Reaching the landing, she nudged open the first door on the left and peered inside, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. A pile of broken furniture in one corner, a rolled-up rug in the other, and more importantly, dated floral wallpaper in need of stripping. Tying her bob back with a hairband from her wrist, she yanked open the dust-choked curtain to let in sunlight, and got to work.
As twilight fell, her forearms ached and she was dewy with sweat, but calmer from the rhythm of her task. Trying not to think about serious matters, but to justbe. One of the teaching assistants had recently been talking about mindfulness on theplayground, and she’d found it a bit much, but now appreciated the appeal of being present in the moment.
A floorboard creaked, and she spun around, dropping the wallpaper scraper. ‘Oh! You scared me.’
Ariel stood in the doorway, looking uncertain. ‘Sorry. I know you asked me to leave you alone, but you weren’t answering your phone. I was getting worried because it’s past dinnertime and the flat seems to be falling apart. Thought I might find you down here.’ Lifting her chin, she added, ‘I’ve reflected on what you said. I do love you and am sorry if I made you doubt it. Anyway, I won’t say anything else. I know when to be silent.’ She mimed pulling a zip across her lips.
‘Thank you. And sorry for snapping earlier.’
‘That’s okay.’ This time, Ariel pretended to button her mouth closed. Moving over to the opposite wall, she worked a fingernail under the edge of a strip of wallpaper and tore away a long narrow segment.
Gilly watched for a moment, seeing the concentration on her beautiful face as she got stuck into the task. ‘I thought you didn’t like getting your hands dirty.’
Ariel mimicked unbuttoning her mouth, ‘I want to be where you are. Besides, I’d do anything for you.’
It was on the tip of Gilly’s tongue to say.Anything? Include keeping a promise you made but have already broken?Instead, she bent over to pick up her scraper and resume her task.
Know when to stay silent.
They didn’t have to talk about it now. They loved each other, and it was enough in that moment they were together.Wasn’t it?
As they worked in companionable silence, some of the pockmarks in the floorboards smoothed over and a section of loose skirting board on the opposite side of the room quietly reattached itself to the wall.
CHAPTER 21
Albie
Extend the Hand of Friendship to Others
The weekend following Rosie’s birthday party, Albie gathered the Commonhold Association in the manor’s ballroom. A luxurious space, it stretched across the rear of the ground floor, a series of stained-glass doors leading onto the back lawn, fluted columns gracefully arching under a gilt-vaulted ceiling and showcasing over two centuries of historic charm.
Tori stopped at the threshold, brown eyes rounding as she craned her head back and gazed at the opulent crystal chandelier. Stepping into the vast room, and taking in the lemon-hued silk wallpaper and lofty dimensions, she breathed, ‘Wow, this is like the ballroom inBeauty and the Beast.’
‘Yes, but your dress isn’t yellow like Belle’s,’ Rosie sang out, skipping past with hair in blonde bunches, and pointing at Tori’s white, high-necked dress.
Kirsten jogged in behind her, panting. ‘Slow down! I swear, one of these days I’m going to lose you.’
‘Don’t be silly, Mummy,’ the little girl kicked her trainers off, ‘I couldn’t get lost in the manor. It wouldn’t let me.’ Whooping, she raced across the polished wooden floor in lacy white ankle socks, sliding to a stop an inch from the wall, pink dress fanning out around her.
‘Oookay then. Weird child,’ Kirsten muttered, as her daughter turned and set off again. ‘Enjoy yourself,’ she called, ‘but no more missing teeth please, the tooth fairy’s almost bankrupt.’ Walking over to Albie, she greeted warmly. ‘Morning.’
‘Morning.’ Watching Rosie, he chuckled and boomed across the ballroom, ‘I’d join you if my knees weren’t so old and creaky.’
‘Nonsense, you’re never too old for fun.’ An amused, refined voice spoke from the doorway.
