Look Back At Me

Part I

"I've brought you father's Plato.. I thought that you might like it." When she finally looked up he was at a loss. The protective distance he had kept and that had resounded through his voice when he had spoken first, was gone. He took the book and smiled to himself as it brought back good memories of his deceased friend.

"I shall treasure it." Mr Thornton's voice was low but kind, "As I will you father's memory.. he was a good friend to me." There was a moment of silence. Mr Thornton thought about saying goodbye and walking away, showing her that he did not care for her any longer, but he could not. Margaret Hale was leaving; she was saying goodbye to Milton, to her friends, to his mother and sister, and to him. He had not been able to convince her to love him and he would not be able to convince her to stay. In a moment of recklessness, in this situation that seemed hopeless to him, he asked her the same question again, this time with a desperate attempt to control himself.

"So you are going", the words now seemed to reach her, as they had not done so before. She looked up at him with sad eyes, but she did not move, "..and never come back.". These last words slipped past his mouth before he realised he had said them and what was left of his strong façade now shattered before his eyes.

"I wish you well Mr Thornton.". Margaret spoke, her kind voice communication all the tenderness she felt for him. She smiled in an attempt to end their acquaintance in the best way she could master. Mr Thornton looked at her abruptly and his jaw tightened. He turned around and walked away without saying another word.

He will never think well of me again, Margaret thought as she saw Mr Thornton leave the room and close the door behind him. She heard her aunt and Mrs Thornton speak about her, but she was too numbed to pay any close attention. She stared at the door a while longer before her aunt took her by the arm and looked at her pityingly.

"Come Margaret, we must leave now." Aunt Shaw squeezed her arm a little as Mrs Thornton lead them out of the house, followed by Ms Thornton. Mrs Thornton opened the big front door and a gust of cold wind and snow forced itself into the hallway. The coach that was to take Margaret and her aunt to the station was already waiting outside. Mrs Thornton murmured a soft 'farewell' to Mrs Shaw and Margaret and gave them a little nod. Fanny Thornton opened her mouth to make another comment about Miss Hale visiting her home to see her furnishings, but Mrs Thornton's stern brow kept her silent and Ms Thornton too gave the ladies a little nod. Aunt Shaw thanked the Thorntons and escorted the still numbed Margaret to the coach. Like an obedient child Margaret stepped into the carriage and seated herself silently opposite to her aunt. Her eyes were looking somewhere in front of her without seeing and she heard the coachman shut the coach door. Mrs Thornton and Ms Thornton had left the doorway and Mrs Thornton was about to close the door when she saw her son standing in the hallway. She saw the suffering and despair in his face and to help him say his final goodbye, she left the door open and went with Fanny Thornton back into the house. Mr Thornton saw Miss Hale step into the coach while he stood on the steps before his house. The skirt of her black dress disappeared inside the black coach and the scene before Mr Thornton's eyes was grim as the black of the coach seemed to cast a disapproving shadow on the snowy surroundings. The coach started moving and Mr Thornton felt his resolve of indifference break yet again. His willpower was entreating her to stay, to stop to coach and return to him.

"Look back.. look back at me", he whispered demandingly as his last steady breath seemed to leave his body. His feet were heavy and it was as if he was nailed to ground, his eyes locked onto the coach. Suddenly he saw movement behind the small back window frame of the coach and he recognised Margaret's eyes looking back at him.

"Margaret", he whispered her name as he took a step as if to run after her, but stopping as abruptly as he had begun moving.

With the first movement of the coach, Margaret had been rushed back to the present as if she had been awakened from a foggy dream. The sudden realisation that she was actually leaving Mallborough Mills and all the she held dear inside hit her like a sting in her heart. Margaret began moving nervously and her breathing became faster. She put her hands to her sides on the seat to steady herself, her nails digging into the bench. Then, without thinking, she looked around through the window behind her and she saw Mr Thornton standing outside. As they looked at each other, Margaret saw Mr Thornton's lips move as he took a step forward. She recognised her name on his lips and it caused her to panic.

"Stop..", Margaret whispered softly to herself. "What is it, my dear?", Aunt Shaw's voice made her turn around and with her eyes still darting from one place to another Margaret repeated herself louder.

"Stop the coach." Without waiting for it to actually do so, she opened the coach door and began to move towards the opening. Aunt Shaw grabbed her by the arm, "Stop the coach!", she yelled in fear. The coachman pulled the reins and the coach came to an abrupt stop. "Margaret, whatever is the matter?!", aunt Shaw exclaimed. Margaret shook off her aunt's grip and stepped outside. She looked around and saw Mr Thornton still standing exactly where she had known him to be, looking at her in utter bewilderment.

Her sudden reaction had left her confused herself and now that she was actually standing outside the coach, Margaret felt lost. What was she supposed to do now? What was she thinking?! Mr Thornton did not move, he just looked at her with disbelief.

Aunt Shaw stepped outside and looked at Margaret with fear, "Are you not well, my dear? What is the matter?", the obvious concern seeping through her voice. Margaret saw Mrs Thornton appear behind her son and walking towards her with a strange look on her face.

"What has happened, Miss Hale?", Mrs Thornton's authoritative voice resounded through Margaret's head. Margaret felt dizzy and a feeling of insecurity and regret crept up on her.

"I do not feel so well..", she managed to give as a reply to the inquiring, puzzled looks of Mrs Shaw and Mrs Thornton. Mrs Thornton felt the snow fall on her bare hands and the cold wind blew against her petticoats. "We must get her inside", Mrs Thornton said with resignation as she herself and Mrs Shaw both held onto Margaret to steady her steps while they walked back into the house.