Gillian slouches on the couch next to Caroline, fingers distractedly twisting the rough ends of Caroline's scarf. While Caroline watches the evening news, Gillian is watching Caroline, her mind regurgitating the family lunch.
It had started well enough, with their parents and Ellie, Raff and Calamity joining them for Sunday lunch. Ellie and Caroline had a vegetable frittata and everyone else enjoyed the lamb roast. The table was full of stories and laughter and the conversation was lively. The main stories of the day came from Raff, whose tales of daring by misguided 15 year-olds were reconstructed as amusing anecdotes of stupidity and hormones.
Caroline had been quiet, Gillian noticed. She'd realised Caroline was often quiet at these family functions, and it had taken a while to work out why. It wasn't simply that the tales were about teenagers, which no longer really fascinated since William had became an adult and Lawrence is largely beyond help, but Gillian could see the defensiveness presented as calm indifference.
It was even more conspicuous when Calamity dropped the bombshell; she and Flora were going to London for a week with her granny and Caroline. Excitement flowed from the young girls as they all discussed the proposed visit to the aquarium and the zoo, the transport museum and Kew Gardens, but there was a seething black hole in the midst; Celia.
"Why didn't you tell me?" She demanded, glaring at Caroline. "You must have known for ages if you booked it two months ago."
Gillian grabbed Caroline's hand under the table, holding on firmly, wanting to offer support as well as to ground herself. The farmer jumped into the fray, hoping to avoid the inevitable.
"We weren't sure it would happen, what with the farm and everything."
Gillian knew that wasn't strictly true, but it was plausible. Her sheep could become sick before they leave, causing them to cancel the trip.
Celia narrowed her eyes at Caroline, not believing it. "You could have told me."
Caroline stilled, defensively cutting to the heart of the matter in the blunt way of the Dawson women. "I didn't want to hear your comments and judgements for months on end."
"Well really, Caroline. Two women, going away like that. It's not normal."
"Exactly Mum. You've made my point." Caroline spoke sharply, turning to see if Gillian was all right before facing her mum. Resolute in her decision, she added in a clipped tone, "It's happening. I don't want to hear another thing about it."
"You're not setting a very good example," Celia added, nodding towards the girls.
Caroline gritted her teeth. "If you have something to say to me, I'd rather you say it in private, rather than in front of the girls."
"Hmmph," was Celia's immediate response. She sat glaring at Gillian like the farmer had lead her sparkling daughter astray, worrying about Caroline being recognised with Gillian by some of her own friends while they were in London. "What if someone sees you?"
"Let them," countered Gillian, starting to fire up despite her best efforts to stay calm for Caroline's sake. "Are you saying—"
Gillian felt her hand being squeezed by Caroline, who was obviously trying to stop Gillian before it escalated. She knew Caroline had been down this road so many times before with her mum, to no avail. She knew discussion was pointless, so she shut her mouth tightly, trying not to take to the bait.
Alan glanced at Gillian before trying to calm the choppy waters, "Celia, it'll be a lovely holiday for them." He turned to his wife, trying to hold her hand but she pulled away from him. "They've been working hard, and the girls will love it," he added quietly, pointing to Calamity and Flora. He turned to his daughter and Caroline, nodding. "That's grand. I hope you have a wonderful time."
"Thank you, Alan," Caroline replied, her voice a little softer towards him.
Taking Caroline by surprise, Gillian's reaction to Celia's disapproval was to pull Caroline's hand from under the table, turn it over and kiss the palm of it. The soft, lingering kiss was more suggestive than friendly, and Caroline gasped, her eyes glued to Gillian's.
Celia hummphed again, clattering her cutlery to disturb the tender scene at the other end of the table.
Raff, ever the supporter, jumped in with Ellie and they changed the conversation, giving the step-sisters a break from Celia's judgement.
During the rest of the lunch it was clear the family were distracting Celia and running interference between the matriarch and her daughter. Caroline appeared to be largely unfazed by it all, but Gillian knew it hurt. It was why Caroline shared almost nothing of their lives with anyone, especially her mother.
In response, Gillian was all over Caroline: hands touching and caressing whenever an opportunity arose, and she sat almost on top of the blonde when they were having coffee in the lounge. Both women were enjoying the closeness and although Caroline looked a little uneasy about the unexpectedly demonstrative farmer, Gillian thought pissing off Celia was a very big bonus.
They'd laughed about it once everyone left, although Gillian could hear the undercurrent of stress in Caroline's voice. She knew trouble was brewing and Caroline would pay for it when Celia had her daughter to herself. She also knew she'd be there to comfort Caroline afterwards, and they'd be okay.
On the couch, Gillian snuggles closer into the tall blonde, twisting the ends of the scarf. Caroline responds by putting an arm around her, bringing them even closer.
"Are you all right?" Caroline asks softly.
Gillian nods, nuzzling Caroline's shoulder in the process. "Just thinking about today. Your mum..."
"I am sorry. She won't change. She doesn't like it but I'm not going to be volunteering to share details of our life with her. It's just easier if she doesn't know." Caroline looks fondly at Gillian, kissing the top of her head. Mumbling into her hair, Caroline continues, "I have you, and Flora. Raff and Ellie are wonderfully supportive, so's your Dad. We'll be fine, despite my mother."
Caroline sighs, her arm draped along Gillian's shoulder. "How do you feel about it?" she asks quietly.
Gillian nods again, dropping the scarf to doodle circles on Caroline's thigh with her fingers. She nestles deeper into Caroline's arms, head on her chest, listening to the soothing rhythm of her heart.
Gillian is used to secrets, used to carrying them for herself and for others. It started when she was a teenager but after forty years the patterns of withdrawal and secrecy are solidly etched through her psyche. In the past, for her own safety, she's had to withhold information from her husbands and lovers. She knows the empty ache of isolation, when she's alone with her demons, bereft of support.
This seems different though, because the secrets she keeps from Celia are for Caroline. For the first time, she has no secrets from her lover, not even the biggest secret of them all. The shift from isolation to partnership is profoundly moving; she's never been in the inner circle with someone before. She's never thought anyone else really knew her, or cared enough to cut through the shite, to hold her hand and ask.
Yet here they are, Caroline patiently waiting for Gillian to tell her how she feels, to explain what's going on inside.
It's such a simple thing to ask, "How do you feel about it?" but so profound to really mean it, to really want to know. Gillian smiles with contentment. She feels properly seen, properly heard. She finally feels okay to be who she is, cuddling the woman who loves her for all she is.
The future has never felt so safe.
.
.
.
Anywhere, Anytime by Beau Taplin, from Worlds of You, 2017