I want to be mad at her for following me here. Want to lash out at her for walking a very dangerous line around my privacy. But I don't want anything to take away from the moment I find myself in. Don't want anyone to take away what Gill has given me. So instead of ignoring her, and letting anger rage within me; instead of approaching her ready to attack, I smile. It's not genuine. Not like the laughter that was escaping from me a few hours before, as I opened the package and found the treasure hidden inside. But it's a smile none the less. It's effort, on my part. And she knows it. Appreciates it too, from little I can be bothered to see on her face. I try and make a mental note to be nicer to her. To try and forgive her for being something she cannot change. For being the wrong woman. I'm not making any promises, not guaranteeing that i'll succeed in seeing past who she isn't. But I know I should atleast try. Because it's becoming clearer by the second that she's a part of something I knew nothing about. Becoming clearer that she's putting up with me, not for herself, but because she's respecting the dying wishes of a woman she barely knew. She didn't ask for any of this, and i'm sure she'd rather be anywhere but here. Anywhere but having to deal with me and my inability to even begin to deal with losing Gill. So more effort.

When she'd first handed it over to me, I thought that would be it. Thought that this was the only thing she had to give me. Thought that I was holding everything that was left of Gill. Thought I was being given all the answers. But once I opened the package, once I came face to face with what it held for me, my initial thoughts gave way to the suspicions that this was just the beginning. She confirms it with the swift nod of her head and one simple word. Confirms what both scares me and offers me some form of comfort. I'm nervous for what's to come. About the journey that Gill is going to take me on with whatever else she has left behind. Whatever else she has in store for me. But i'm relieved too. My suffering soothed somewhat, in the knowledge that she hadn't just walked away from me. Encouraged that she has things that she wants to give to me, even if she was unable to hand them over herself.

I leave the cemetery, and once i'm satisfied that this time i'm not being tailed by Wallowski, I head in the direction of Gill's home, which until now I have also avoided. I let myself in, using the key that she originally gave me for use in emergencies, but that I ended up using a lot more frequently. She did the same with the key I gave her to my place. We just sort of slipped into it. Stopped ringing the bell and waiting for the other to invite us in. We started letting ourselves in, a silent agreement that we no longer needed permission to enter the other's space. She was welcome in my home any time she wished. And I in hers.

As far as i'm aware, no-one has been here since the last time she herself locked the door and walked away. I came here every day after she walked out of the offices. Sat outside, in the hopes that she's return from where ever it was she was hiding and we could work through whatever it was that had made her leave. She never did though, and since the morning that the officers arrived to notify me, I too have not returned. Not even been able to bring myself to drive near her road.

It was Torres who had stepped up and offered to come here, when the funeral home had called asking me to provide something for her to be burried in. When i'd made it clear that I could not enter her home yet. I simply wasn't ready to be there if she wasn't there herself. But in the end no one had needed to go in. Emily, in her state of shock had started turning rooms in our house upside down looking for any trace of Gill, and had found the outfit she had left in the wardrobe of my spare bedroom. I was sure it hadn't been there last time I had looked, but over the years clothes of mine had ended up at her home, and hers at mine. It was her red dress, the one that hugged her curves perfectly and when she wore it, had me completely incapable of taking my eyes off her. It was the one, that had I been faced with her entire collection of clothes, I would have picked. And so I shrugged off my doubt and handed it over to the funeral home. But after today, i'm sure I was right in my inital thought. That dress had not been there the last time i'd had reason to look in that wardrobe, which was the day before she walked away. She had put it there for me to find. It was the first part of her plan, I just hadn't been able to see it.

I push open her door, fighting against weeks of unopened mail. Mail from those who don't know that she's gone. It's funny, in a way. How her mail has kept coming. How the world has kept turning. How for some, her death has meant nothing. And for other, it has meant everything. There's a layer of dust coating the surfaces, of what was once such a well kept home. She'd be dissapointed I think. She left me this place, the heart of her and i've done nothing but let it sit around collecting dirt. She left me most of it, it turned out. Her home. Her shares in the Lightman Group. Her personal possessions. She had her savings transferred into a trust for Emily when she turns Twenty-One, which broke my heart and gave me a painful sort of hope all at once. Knowing that whatever happened, however this terribly story comes to an end, she has made sure Em is taken care of. Even if just financially. That I knew she had done deliberately. But with the way things had ended between us, the rest of it i'd put down to her not having had time to change her will. To rectify it and cut me out, the way she had done in her life. But as I walk through her home, that even after all this time still smells like her, still feels like her, I know that it was no accident that she left the rest to me. She was organised. Had put her affairs in order. Was prepared for the ending none of us had seen coming. And leaving me her things, leaving her money for Em, it's all part of the plan. Another piece to the puzzle that I still don't understand.

I work my way through the house, scanning each room in search for what I came here for. Something that I know is here. Something that I know she has treasured since the moment it was given to her. I find it eventually, on her bedside table, and I kick myself for not looking here first. Of course this is where she would have kept it. It's a picture, framed in wood that is covered in glitter and flowers and tiny paper hearts. A picture of my girls, held in a frame decorated in a way only a child could decorate something. It's one of the oldest pictures of them, but even after all this time it's one of my favourites. They're making cupcakes in my kitchen, from a time when we were still in the throws of starting the business and working from home. An inset day had meant Em was with us, and despite my every intention to not let her being home distract us too much from our work, Em had Gill wrapped her round her little finger from the second she'd walked through the front door that morning. They didn't know I was taking the picture, and so they're not looking at the camera. Instead, they're frozen in time as I captured the moment just after Gill blew a handfull of icing sugar into the air. They're grinning at each other, both covered in cake mix and the perfect imagine of happiness.

It had been Em's idea to gift it to Gill and she'd spent hours working on the frame, giving everything her eight year old self was capable of, in order to make it perfect. When i'd asked her why she wanted to give it to Gill as a present, she'd fixed me with a look that only a child is capable of giving and then a huge smile had broken across her face. "Because Daddy" she had said, "I want to do something nice for her. Like she always does for me". Gillian had been so overcome with emotion when Em given it to her, that tears had filled her eyes instantly and she'd been completely lost for words. That picture is my favourite of them, because it captured the moment their relatioship began. Because it shows the start of a friendship so beautiful and honest, that they so quickly became family. And I know that it's for the exact same reasons as mine that they both adore this image.

I don't stay at her house much longer after I find the picture. Being in her space threatening to undo the brief glimps of light her gift had given me in the cemetery, but it's still late by the time I get home. Much later than i've been home since I made the decision to go back to work. It hadn't been a decision i'd made lightly. Even in the daze that my grief had me in, I hadn't thought it right to leave Em when she was so clearly broken. But I hadn't been able to stay locked up in the house any longer. Needed to escape, even if it was just to the office, and another place that held crippling memories. And I know it's another thing she woud have wanted. She'd given so much to the group, and she wouldn't want all her hard work, all her sacrafices, to have been in vein. So I went back, and I worked. Going about cases on auto-pilot, giving just enough attention to clients to keep them happy. Keep us from going out of business. But everything else, all the paper work and finances, i've been avoiding. I've even been considering hiring someone new, to take care of all those things that I can't stand.

But no matter what, i've made it home every night well before dark. Made it home for a dinner that neither Em or myself really have the stomach for. Made it home for another night of Em locking herself in her room. Another night where I sit alone, with just my pain for company. Which is why I nearly drop everything i'm holding when I walk through the door and i'm faced with Em.

"Where the hell were you", she shouts. "You're late. I tried calling you and you didnt answer".

There's pain twisting her face, and worry evident in voice. I'm shocked because this is the most i've gotten out of her in weeks. Because i'm late, and she's noticed. I'm late and she's angry about it. She looks at me expectantly. Think Cal. She tried to call. My phone. I pull it from my pocked. The screen's black.

"Sorry, darlin'. Look's like the the battery went. I didn't realise".

"Where were you?" She questions as she turns away from me, and flops herself down on the couch. "I thought.." she tails off, and a stab of guilt hits me right in the chest. Suddenly it makes sense. Her concern. The way she all but attacked me the second I walked through the door. I was home late. She couldn't get hold of me. And given the events of the last few months, her poor broken heart, all tangled up with grief and loss had jumped straight to the conclusion that something bad must have happened again. Something bad must have happened to me too.

"Here" I say, as I lower myself down next to her. "I have something for you".

"Where did you get this?" She asks, her voice nothing above a whisper as her fingers trace the little hearts that line the frame.

"Her bedside table", I answer studying her face as she absorbs the information.

"You went to her house?"

I nod in response.

A sad smile crosses her face as she studies the image that the frame holds. "I can't believe she kept it".

"Are you kidding Em. There's no way she ever would have thrown it out. That picture meant the world to her. Just like you did. Don't you ever forget that".

She nods, seemingly satisfied with my words, before pointing to Gill's package that i've placed on the table infront of us.

"What's that?" She questions.

"That" I say, taking a few seconds to choose my next words carefully "is a gift from Gill. I got given it today".

Confusion and worry cloud her face, so I go on, doing my best to explain what little I know about Gill's plan. She sits in silence for a while, taking in the information i've just given her. I watch her closely, looking for any clue about how it's making her feel. Studying her face, looking for some indication as to whether telling her was the right decision. After a few moments, her eyes dart back to the package and I know the question that is coming next, before it even forms on her lips.

"What did she give you?" Her voice is quiet, but behind the sorrow that still marks her words, there is also a hint of something else. A hint of who she was before despair took hold of her. A hint of the daughter who could not keep her nose out of my business.

"See for yourself" I respond, as I hand the package to her.

She carefully peals back the already torn wrapping and removes the lid to reveal what is inside. Her eyes fill with tears as she recognises Gill's handwriting that marks the first piece of paper she comes across.

You can't afford to hire an accountant Cal. So buckle up. You're in for one hell of a ride.

She looks confused, and so I take the paper from her, and nod at her to retrieve the item that remains in the box.

Gillian Fosters' manual to managing The Lightman Group. Otherwise to be known as: 'A step by step guide for all things paperwork, so Cal doesn't cock it up'.

And just like when i'd first laid eyes upon it, in the cemetery hours ago, she can't control the laughter that comes erupting out of her. And it's a laughter so contagious that I can't help but do the same. We laugh so hard that we both have to holds our sides, and by the time the amusement subsides, there are tears lining both our cheeks. But for the first time in what seems like forever, they aren't tears of sadness. And you don't have to be a mind reader or a genius; don't have to be able to read faces or voices to know that this is exactly the reaction Gill was aiming for, when she put this first package together. And she's succeeded. With one perfectly timed gift, she's done what I thought would be impossible. She's returned laughter to our home.

"I bet you've already considering hiring someone to do all of that stuff for you, haven't you?" she starts, as she struggles to catch her breath. It's more of a statement than a question, but she waits for my nod to confirm what she's said is true before she continues. "God, she knows you so well". There's amusement in her voice still, and I can't help the smile that spreads across my face as I respond to her statement.

"That she does, love. That she does".


Hope you enjoy! Found this one more of a challenge than most of the other chapters. Hope you weren't dissapointed with what was in this package! Just seemed to me like Gill wouldn't dump a load of heavy stuff on Cal first. She'd try and return his smile first.. because whenever he smiled, she smiled too!