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The Island	By : StrawberryWine36 Category: Individual Celebrities > Colin Firth Views: 8936 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and I do not know Colin Firth and am not making any money or profit from this story.

Chapter List
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There was a delivery of boxes on a Friday morning that had the whole academy buzzing with excitement. All the girls had ordered in their dresses, each as elaborate as the next, for the milestone they all looked forward to, the end of year ball.
Georgiana was not usually excited about clothes but after months of wearing the dreary school uniform she was anxious to see what would arrive for her. She had sat with Carlene and chosen colours and styles, fabrics and accessories to match. Now standing beside her bed she carefully lifted the lid of the large white box. She gasped at the shimmer of the pale blue silk within, lifting the dress carefully she held it up against the mirror and twisted and turned imagining how it would feel on her body. It was a beautiful corset style bodice with sparkling details down the sides. The skirt billowed out to her ankles in layers of pale blue and white chiffon.
“That’s gorgeous!” Carlene commented from across the room. “Proper Cinderella at the ball dress. I love it. What do you think of mine?” She held up a mulberry gown with beige underskirts.
“Beautiful!” Georgiana grinned, hugging her friend. “Can’t believe we’ve almost made it. Just a few weeks and we can go home, be with our families.”
“I know!” Carlene squealed, hugging her back just as hard. “Cannot come quick enough, the sooner I’m out of here the better. It’s not like I’ll miss any of the staff here for the rest of my life!”
Georgiana smiled and looked back down to her dress. She couldn’t say the same; all that had been going over in her mind was what would happen on that night. Would she be able to dance with him, at what point could she kiss him in front of that headmaster she despised so much? So many questions flew through her mind as she carefully replaced the lid of the box.
“Where are you going?” Carlene asked as she headed to the door.
“I have to see Mr Firth about something; I missed some notes earlier in class.” Georgiana mumbled, dashing out of the door. Carlene shrugged as she left, wondering why she had headed out holding the dress box.
Georgiana rushed down to his office, she remembered during one of their evening conversations he had told her how much he was looking forward to seeing her in her dress. It made sense that he was the first one she wanted to see her wearing it. Banging on the door she waited a few seconds before bursting in excitedly. Her happy expression turned to a frown as she saw Worthington sat behind the desk.
“Good morning Lady Alderley!” He grinned, swivelling back and forth. “Pray tell what brings you to these parts this morning?”
“Where is Mr Firth?” Georgiana scowled.
“Um, let me think....” He waited an agonising few seconds while looking around the room randomly, “Oh yes he’s gone, left early this morning.”
“Left? What do you mean, when is he coming back?”
“Oh, you don’t know do you? He’s not coming back. Was all a bit sudden really, he got back in contact with his wife, went back over to reconcile with her. I believe he said they had too much history, so much he couldn’t leave behind. So much lost love....Sad, sad story!” He finished, shaking his head.
“Bullshit! Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be worming around my uncle hoping for some money or a house abroad with a stupid stick woman wife with big tits!” Georgiana spat back at him, how dare he do this. She couldn’t wait till Colin got back and told him where to go.
“Not at all, you stay here and wait little girl. I’m here because I am a great acquaintance of the headmaster. We have been friends since university and I’m always on hand to pass on any messages or in this case clear up any unfinished business Mr Firth had before his swift departure. He’s not coming back, that is a certainty, does that bother you at all?”
“Not a bit!” Georgiana scowled, holding the box close to her chest and flouncing out of the room, not wanting to hear any more of Worthington’s smug comments, and definitely Grinning as she left, Worthington screwed tight the envelope concealed in his pocket.
Georgiana stewed over what she had been told until the end of the day when she returned to Colin’s office to see if he had returned. She found the door open as always but the room was in darkness. Stifling back a sob she hunted through drawers, files to see if she could find an answer to where he had gone. Eventually banging on the door to his apartment, with no answer yet gain she burst through expecting to find him sat there, marking work or watching some ridiculous tv show. She found silence, darkness, coldness. He was gone. Maybe Worthington had been right, after all she didn’t have exclusive rights over him, it could have been that his wife had offered something more, wanted him back. Sinking her face into the rug she sobbed quietly, knowing she could not stay for too long in case of getting into trouble. She sobbed for the dragging feeling inside of losing him, she sobbed because she wasn’t even sure if the whole thing had been real anyway. This place was about games; maybe she had been part of one, a part time plaything while he was away from home. Sniffing she turned her mood to anger and stalked over to his desk. Removing the necklace he had given her, scribbling a note and sealing it in an envelope, she left it propped up against the pile of folders. Hopefully someone would forward it onto him at some point. Glancing around the room she mulled over her thoughts for a moment, composing herself before she stepped back out of the door. Damn, if Worthington was there with his irritating self satisfied grin, she might have to fight the urge to smack him across the face. Stupid idiot, why wasn’t he back at home looking after her uncle, at least pretending he cared!
At the thought of her uncle she absentmindedly dragged her fingers across the phone on the desk. Having had no contact apart from the letters she had sent, a phone call would be something different. Of course it was forbidden to make calls to home but here she was, all on her own and desperate to hear a voice, a voice that cared about her. A voice that loved her. Her shaking fingers grabbed the receiver and hurriedly tapped in his number. Clamping the phone to her ear she sank down onto the chair. It rang for what seemed like ages and she was just about to hang up when a gravelly voice answered.
“Hello?”
Her breathing became shaky, it felt so strange hearing his voice, more distant and croaky than usual but still there, still speaking.
“Hello...hello?”
Her breath caught in her throat, she wanted to speak but the words got stuck and wouldn’t come out.
“Is there anyone there?” He asked at last, sounding impatient at the silence. Georgiana panicked, slamming the phone down suddenly and flopping down, her head in her hands. What could she have said to him, she was a failure already, he had sent her here with such high hopes and she had failed them all. She could remember his face as she said goodbye, the pain of his illness mingled with the pain of having to send her away. His eyes had said, ‘I know you can do it, you’re my blood, my legacy when I am gone. Do not disappoint me.’
Yet she had, and not even through any decisions, she was the same natural failure that she had been in her teens, only good enough for the dance moves she made waves with her body and the way she could transfix the idle eyed men that watched her. Like a drug she could keep their attention throughout, get anything from them like a snake charmer with an admiring basket of snakes. Every one the same, grasping to get a moment near her.
Colin had been the only one not to react like that, his different approach had entranced her, made her feel something in response, something that had rarely happened to her before. But he was gone, returned to someone who was probably the exact opposite of herself. A classy lady with well kept hair and bashful eyes. Her voice would be quiet, polite and her language considerate. A delicate social butterfly rather than an over opinionated, headstrong burlesque dancer.
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- 13
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The Island