A Lone Imported Peach

Chapter One

She is better at seeing the beginnings of things than her brother and looking back, Gigi can pinpoint Bing and Jane's wedding as that moment. In her mind, the click of her phone as she took the picture is sometimes audible and when she goes home for the holidays the sight of it, framed and silvered upon the mantelpiece, makes her smile.

To the average stranger it would seem unremarkable. A dancing couple focuses the shot; the man with his tousled dark hair and white shirt has his back to the camera so that the smile upon his partner's face, half hidden by his shoulder, is quietly evident.

Love can be seen as unremarkable.

Two years ago her brother would have barely lingered upon a similar photo in another house, but now it is remarkable to him because he put that smile there. To Gigi, the photo is a sign. She is not immune to symbol, she understands that a smile can be more than love, that it can also be security, can be freedom.

A smile from Lizzie Bennet frees her.

Until she saw it she did not know that she wanted to leave. The thought had never occurred to her before; they had always been too busy clinging to each other to survive first the tragedy of their parents, then Wickham. (It pleases her that she can think of his name without feeling.) They had formed a sibling lifeboat, Gigi and William, had survived by staying together. Most would point at him as her protector, but the truth was that she in equal measure had watched over him. It was she who had brought him coffee during late nights at the end of the quarter, she who urged him to rest and lighten up and she who forced him into rooms with Elizabeth Bennet.

He would always be her big brother; they would always be close. But instinctively she knew that she no longer had to drag herself out of bed on Saturday mornings to make pancakes, knew not to worry about William burying himself in work. He had a reason to go home now. Gigi understood that through some subtle shifting of roles, Lizzie had acquired much of her responsibility and this relieved her.

"Ugh, those two are so in love it's gross." Lydia appeared beside her, her eyes skimming the lilies, the marquee, the dancing figures. It seemed fitting that Jane and Bing would have a summer wedding; to Gigi both were permanently touched by sunshine.

"The bride and groom?"

"Them too." Lydia grinned, downing some champagne – a sure sign, Gigi knew, that things were getting better. "So when's Darce going to ask Lizzie to move in with him?"

"Do you think she'd day yes?"

"Aren't they practically married anyways?" It was true. Lizzie's presence had been creeping in the old Darcy house; tea bags by William's coffee beans in the kitchen, mainstream Colin Firth movies rubbing cases with artsy indie flicks in the home theatre. She had even acquired a desk in the study where Gigi would often catch her buried in work or Tolstoy.

They had become friends, Lydia and Gigi, bonding over a shared horror.

"I got an interview for that TV show," the redhead confided through mouthfuls of wedding cake.

"Lydia that's great!" In time she would fall into the habit of watching Lydia's cable segment. She would admire from afar the way her friend, her brother's eventual sister in law climbed up from five minutes of entertainment news, to covering the Oscar red carpet, to co-hosting daytime. But that was later. Years down the line. Currently all she heard was her own voice and despite herself she was unable to prevent a wistful note edging into it. "Television. Wow, that is really...cool." Her eyes were still watching Lizzie and William. She absently noted that his dancing has improved beyond recognition. "Sorry what was that?"

"Do you want me to look into some jobs?" Lydia repeated. "I'm sure they have a San Francisco affiliate."

It transpired that they did not. There was however a New York studio. One with a convenient opening for a graphic designer.

It is only after they offer her a job that Gigi wonders how she is going to tell William.