Chapter 29

The door creaked slightly... as if it was a nervous cough, Tilly thought absent-mindedly; all too aware of her own inner dread as she walked through the doorway and caught the alluring whiff of Jen's perfume, intermingled with acrylic paint and White Spirit...

She couldn't see her anywhere. So she walked over and gently balanced the paint trays Diane had dropped on top of the two neatened piles on one of the wooden benches to the side of the room.

She lingered there, wondering where Jen had got to; turning round to look at some of the striking art work that was hanging on the wall behind her... so that her back was turned when Jen emerged from the dark room where she had just set up some of the equipment.

Jen stopped still. She watched Tilly as she stood there, head lifted up, gazing up at the works of art on the wall. She seemed lost in thought momentarily; oblivious to the world around her, and to the raging passions Jen could feel building inside her on seeing her again – passions which had recently made her feel so scared... Yet Jen couldn't tear her eyes away from the beautiful sculpture that was her young lover. She took in everything: her porcelain, satin skin; her strong, confident poise; her toned, structured form; her fiery auburn hair, which fell with a life of its own in mesmerising waves which caught the light and played with it... Jen caught her breath. Suddenly, the disgust and dread that Keeler had inadvertently made her feel was already half forgotten as she looked across at her. Somehow, seeing Tilly, standing right there in front of her, by herself, waiting for her and no one else, made everything feel ok. It took her by surprise, just how easily and quickly Tilly had become her own personal remedy to any pain or doubt she was suffering...

Jen knew she could stand and admire Tilly for hours, days even, and not get the slightest bit bored. But still, time was speeding away. And she had a class in ten minutes. So she coughed slightly, clearing her throat; already anxious of the conversation she expected Tilly would want to have; already knowing that her fear and embarrassment from earlier yesterday had affected the way she'd behaved with Tilly later that day and just moments earlier...

But how could she explain it to her? How could she explain those feelings of terror, like some kind of panic attack, and that strong feeling of disgust, without it sounding awful? She'd tried to reply to Tilly's text; she'd tried countless times and each time she'd deleted her text before sending it... for fear of upsetting her, or worse: losing her...

Tilly turned around when Jen cleared her throat. She stood there, at a distance, facing her.

Both of them looked across the space between them, seeking out each other's eyes. They held each other's gaze for a time before Jen looked down, focusing on her hands which were restlessly, nervously, picking at her top. Tilly watched her, recognising the gesture as one that had, in the past, preceded Jen about to break her heart, as if it was her tell in a poker game of emotions. So she steeled herself for the pain, setting her face into a fixed mask of calm, and then slowly, deliberately, walked across towards her; her eyes never leaving Jen's face.

Tilly was the first to speak: "So, are you going to tell me what the hell's going on? Or am I to read your mind?"

Tilly's tone was quietly indignant, almost sarcastic. It made Jen flinch slightly, as if hurt, before she looked at her more deeply, her hazel eyes beseeching; earnest. Tilly saw the reaction but refused to allow herself to believe it: it implied that Jen actually cared, and that was a dangerous thought, one of hope, which she couldn't allow herself to feel if Jen was then going to break it off with her once again! So she continued in the same tone:

"...Come on then. Do it again if you're going to. Break my heart... Make it quick though, please Jen... Please don't draw it out longer than necessary. It hurt like hell last time; I don't think I can survive it again..." Tilly's voice was controlled, prepared, with only the slightest wobble with that last sentence, before adding: "...I just wish I knew what I've done wrong. I wish you'd tell me Jen, I really do."

The expression in Jen's eyes changed to sudden surprise. And then a look of realisation flashed across them as she saw behind Tilly's veil of control, into the wells of hurt that lay there, looking longingly back at her.

Jen felt ashamed, suddenly, of her inability to communicate properly, or to think beyond herself and see how it must have seemed to Tilly. Good grief, she was supposed to be the adult! She should be looking after Tilly, who had done nothing wrong at all; who she adored with all her being! She shouldn't be putting her through this all over again!

"Tilly – I'm so, so, sorry –" she started, about to explain, and reassure her that this was not, in any way, any kind of break-up... but then she faltered; nerves getting the better of her again, as she wondered how to word it.

But all that Tilly heard simply confirmed her expectation that she was hearing the introduction to the worst break-up speech imaginable. Tilly's nerve broke and she couldn't hold back any longer. And yet, as she was about to speak and vent her heartfelt anger, she found, to her horror, that she just burst into tears.

Jen was by her side immediately. She put her arm around her, which Tilly pushed off, crying out "Don't!" as she did so, making Jen take a step back, horrified at seeing her beautiful girl sobbing in front of her, because of her, all over again. She knew what would come next. Tilly would run out of the room; away from her. And this time, Jen sensed, it would probably be for good. She couldn't allow that to happen; she just couldn't!

Damn Keeler's intrusion! ...And damn her allowing it to get the better of her so that she freaked out again!

She firmly took hold of Tilly's arm, fighting against her struggle, and almost frog-marched her across to the dark room. She knew she only had minutes before her students would start to arrive. She had to make this right. And whatever she said, she knew she had to make it count!

She held Tilly's head in her hands, despite her protestations, and forced her to look at her, into her eyes, as she stared deeply into Tilly's. She had to make her see.

"Tilly look at me... Do you see? Can you see it? Here... in my face, my eyes...? Look! Look at me!" Jen's voice was beseeching at first, and then urgent; frustrated that she felt so inarticulate when trying to express emotions so profound; so powerful.

But Tilly was having none of it and continued to struggle and pull away. She was determined to not allow Jen to talk her round: she had totally convinced herself that Jen really intended to finish with her and was just stringing her along now, delaying the inevitable, after the coldness she'd felt from her over the past twenty-four hours. So she deliberately made her comments cold too.

"Look at you? Why? So you can spin me a line? Tell me there's love there, after all, if I look at you long enough?" The sarcasm that lay heavy in her voice stopped Jen's momentum and confidence and she faltered again. Tilly pounced on that hesitation; her voice was like ice: "What? Have I hit a nerve, Jen? Well I'm looking, and all I can see is your pupils are bigger – oh, wait, oh yes of course, that's because you're standing in a dark room! Well...? I'm starting to see through all your bullshit Miss Gilmore!"

Jen winced at the formal title Tilly used for her. "It's not bullshit!" Jen burst out, tears suddenly springing to her eyes, "I'm not spinning you a line! I really care about you Tilly! I, I love you! You know that! I –"

"Oh leave it out Jen; you ignored me all day yesterday! My calls... my texts... my hand up all the time in class... You didn't even acknowledge me when I left the bloody room! And today! What was all that crap downstairs? You've been so totally fucking distant with me...! And you couldn't bring yourself to even touch me earlier with the paint trays, could you? You call that caring? You call that love? HA!" She pushed against Jen's gentle hands and stared at her coldly before turning away.

"No!" Jen reacted instinctively. Before Tilly had chance to sidestep her and exit the dark room Jen threw her arms around her, fiercely, tightly; gripping her in a body lock Tilly couldn't escape from, as much as she tried and wriggled and fought. Jen was desperate with her words now... "No! I'm not letting you go! Not until you listen to me!"

"But Miss Gilmore, I do believe your time is up" Tilly's reply was quietly sarcastic and controlled, "I do believe that that is your class arriving outside in the corridor."

Sure enough, there came the echoing sounds of feet on the stairs and chattering students lining up outside, like an impatient wall of noise, restless to be allowed in. Jen knew, her heart sinking and breaking, that this conversation, whatever it was and wherever it was leading them, would have to come to an end there and then: unresolved. She cursed her lack of communication with Tilly. She cursed Keeler making her feel so wretched in the first place. And she cursed her damn job for stopping her being with the one person she wanted to be with more than anyone in the world. What a bloody stupid thing to do, to take the job in the first place! Even poverty and homelessness suddenly seemed a better prospect than this... torture!

She held onto Tilly for as long as she could, her heart in her throat, agonisingly not wanting to let go, until she heard her classroom door creak open and one of her male students call out "Miss Gilmore? Miss? Are you in there?" and then, defeated, she dropped her arms back down to her sides and watched silently, sadly, heart breaking inside her, as Tilly walked away from her, out through the door. She heard the shuffling sound of Tilly collecting her bag off her wooden stool and then her footsteps, receding, moving away from her, out of the classroom and past the line of waiting students in the corridor...

She felt like giving up then; walking out of there, hands held high as if surrendering to armed police officers, in an admission of loving her beautiful student more than anyone ever before; more than life itself. She knew she had to dry her eyes before facing the class, but couldn't even muster up the will to do that.

She heard the students trickle in and settle themselves down at the wooden benches around the edges of the room. At least she'd already got the easels out and papered ready, and had already prepared the still-life in the centre of the room...

Mustering up all the courage she could find, she shook her head in an effort to pull herself together and braved the sudden daylight as she emerged, smiling, to face the class in front of her. It was a good job she was a believable actress: only two of the girls at the front noticed that her eyes were slightly glazed and glistened more than usual, as if they had the remnants of tears, as they caught the light suddenly when she turned to speak to them...

Tilly...!

.

.