Influences of Stars

Chapter 12

It took much to convince the others that she was well and that they could leave her alone. However, after a torrent of assurances and jokes the others tried not to laugh at as solemnity felt more fitting, they let Tibby go with a promise to see her as soon as possible.

She walked back alone, wondering if anyone along the place she recognised as home would speak for her if her pa really did condemn her. It was dark by then, and in the darkness anyone would be able to hide their eyes from her if they wanted to keep away. Most of the shutters were sealed already anyway.

In this obscurity, she sat back in the cold air and leant against a wall which was already crumbling. It had looked fine when she was a child. The wind tore at her skin and the wall dug into her back, but the veil of darkness offered a privacy that her house could not.

How sad and lonely the streets looked at that time. The bare trees framed them, allowing the wind to shake them over the nothingness that was the town. Tibby looked out and thought how she could fall into the ground, bury herself beneath this deadness, and all her trials would be at an end.

For a while, this quiet endured a peace she never normally could sustain. It seemed as if she might stay there forever and the town would always be in this stasis of tranquility where nobody yelled or forced or died. Yet life remained unsettled, with the door at the side of the church swinging open and a movement following along the path. Tibby realised too late that she would look rather strange out there in the darkness with no purpose and hence did not move. 

"Are you up to mischief again, Miss Elizabeth?" asked the mover. It was Gideon, who could always be trusted to be working at a late hour.

"No, sir," she responded.

He had never heard so few words from her before. He intended to nod a farewell to her and walk on by, but as he passed her he noticed by the light of the moon a paleness across her eyes, as if filled with tears. Still, his reason told him to walk on by. They were alone in the darkness and it would be improper for him to stop.

For a moment he hovered between leaving and asking after her. She seemed content in her solitude, but he was unsettled by her quietness. Keeping a distance between them, he asked, "Would you like me to find someone to walk you home? You shouldn't be alone at this hour."

"I should like to be alone, thank you," she said.

He nodded, ready to step away and relieved she had given him the permission to do so. However, a recollection came over him that caused him to pause for one last moment to say, "I hear you are to marry Mr Yeardley. Congratulations, indeed." He sounded sincere, even smiling a little.

How could he smile over something so twisted? She tried to ignore the burning disappointment of those words of congratulations, knowing that soon she would hear them many times. However, they sounded broken. They belonged to somebody else and in her attempt to push them away, they collapsed on her chest and forced everything within her to escape. Nothing remained. She had no strength to hide away any longer, causing her weeps to echo across the empty streets.

The moment after she lost herself, she used her sleeve to wipe away her tears and she suppressed her sobs as best she could. As she did, Gideon hovered in his distanced stance, clearly made uncomfortable as he asked, "Whatever is the matter?"

She shook her head, ashamed of her openness. Without looking at him, she mumbled an apology and went to rush past him. He called after her. "Miss Abbot, wait!" he said. He appeared more gentle than before, though awkward as well. She supposed he hadn't much to do with personal feeling. Even so, he seemed in earnest as he said, "Perhaps I could help?"