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“I'm okay. Um, I tried calling Georgie, but she didn't answer. I wanted to see how she's doing. And you. I wanted to know how–how you are. After today, I mean.”
“Thanks. Um, I think she's okay. It was tough for her seeing them again, but she held her own. She's out with Matt right now, so that’s probably why she didn’t answer. She's going to stay here with me for a while.”
“Oh, good. So…how are you?”
“I'm all right,” he said, unsure of how to answer. Did she really want to know how he felt when he saw those men today? The anger that pulsed through his body? “It was a short process, but it felt like forever.”
“I can imagine.”
“How was your last week in South Carolina?”
“It was great. Productive. I was happy to come home, though.”
“How are things in your office? You must have gotten an earful when you went back.”
“I did. I told Brenda I already knew about everything, and she was a bit puzzled, but it quieted her down.” She paused. “Are you sure you're okay?”
“Are you sure you want me to answer that?”
“Yes. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know.”
He swallowed heavily. “I’m okay now, but this morning, in the courtroom... It was hard to just sit there. Wickham looked so cocky, so sure of himself. Collins never even looked at us, not once. I couldn't get Georgie out of there fast enough.”
“I'm sorry it was so tough for you.”
“Georgie and I talked about this at length before the police were even contacted. We knew what she was in for, for the most part. It'll be hard, we know that, but she wants to do it. And she has a lot of support.”
“It's nice that she's out with Matt.”
“Yeah. He's a good guy.”
Silence fell again. It was obvious to Will that they were skirting around other important topics. Still, as mundane as this conversation was, he hoped it was a beginning.
“Elizabeth?”
“Sorry, my mind wandered. I should go. I just wanted to see if you were okay. And Georgiana too.”
“Oh. Okay, sure. I'll tell her you called.”
“Thanks. She can call me if she wants. It's okay if she doesn't feel like talking, though, I understand. I can just…I can check in with you, right?”
He smiled. “Yes, of course you can, anytime. Call whenever you want, day or night.”
“Okay. I'll talk to you soon, then. Bye, Will.”
“Bye, Elizabeth.”
He placed his phone on the desk, sat back in his chair, and closed his eyes. His heart hammered in his chest, but he felt buoyant.She called me. No, they hadn't discussedthem, but they talked. She was coming back to him, he could feel it. He released a huge breath.
We're coming back to each other.
* * *
Elizabeth boardedthe bus on Friday afternoon, excited to go to Boston but feeling tired from a long week.
She’d been relieved of her responsibilities on the eutrophication study, and was returned to her position as manager of the grant. She couldn’t have been more thrilled, and had eagerly handed off her research to the associate taking her place. It felt strange to be at work and not see Bill at his desk, and she knew that the higher-ups were trying to find a replacement for him quickly.
A detective from the Boston Crime Unit had called Wednesday afternoon to tell her that Bill had identified her from a picture that had previously been in Wickham’s possession. She agreed to answer some questions, but kept her responses short. Yes, she knew George Wickham; yes, he’d been in her house; no, he’d never threatened her or touched her; no, she’d never been involved in an intimate relationship with him; yes, she knew two people who had, and gave the detective Charlotte’s and Lydia's names. She also told the detective that Wickham had used her darkroom on occasion, and theorized that the picture of her had been taken from her home. The detective had similar questions for her about Bill Collins, and Elizabeth responded in the same manner.
