Sweet Satisfaction - Sixty-Five

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Sixty-Five

Eight, Nine, Ten! Coming, whether you’re ready or not!” My heart thumps and eyes dart eagerly. I turn a corner, and through a gap in the hedge comes a white-yellow sun shining through, a blinding diamond with stinging rays. Whimpering, I drop to the floor.

“Benji!” I shriek, staring at his freckled, grinning face framed with golden curls.

“You didn’t see me, you didn’t see me!” he chants.

I slip on the moss, grasping thin air as I run after him. I emerge into the garden, which is silent.

“Benji?” My smock and pinafore is dancing in a breeze which gently tears blossoms from the trees, so they look like they are weeping. Everything has gone cold.

A single scream cracks through the air. My Mother runs towards the pond, and I clap my hand to my mouth, starting to shake. My cousin Natalya looks up and stares at me with a pair of sharp almonds that are so deep they are almost black. I know one day I will see those eyes again. 

“Benji,” I whispered in horror. The memory had suddenly flooded back; it had been there all along. Mary looked at me, biting her nails.

“I finally understand that Natalya is trying to take away Father’s heir- that’s why she killed Benjamin, and that’s why Ludmilla tried to kill me too. If I die, then you will die next, and then my unborn sibling.” I clenched my fists.      

“I am the true heir,” Mary whispered.

“What?” Mary snatched my wrist and pulled me into our bedroom, where she began searching through Mother’s wooden letter box. She held a letter with the broken Kingston seal to her heart.

“I’m sorry Elsie.”

If I die, I name Mary as my heir. You laid with your uncle in the February of 1897, we married in the March. How can I be sure that Elsie and Benjamin were not his children? Besides, the girl has betrayed me and John has failed to get her with child.

I stopped reading. My mouth was dry and perspiration was making me feel sticky. I was shaking; the colour from my face drained. Was I the product of incest? Was I King’s daughter? I clutched my stomach, and instantly thought about Mother, who was pregnant with my possible half-sibling. Was Mary my half-sister, and the true heiress? I choked on a sob; had my twin brother died for no reason? Mary was trying to hide her gleeful smile.

“So I will be the heiress and I can give my money to Emma and-” She clapped her hand over her mouth. I bared my teeth.

“So you would give Emma my inheritance?”

“It’s not yours though, is it? You’re nothing but a mariner’s bastard.”

She screamed as my hand made contact with her cheek, as I seethed. She cowered and sobbed as my hand went Slap. Slap. Slap.

“You’re lying! You are a jealous witch, fed up of always being second best. You are useless, you were a replacement, no-one ever wanted you!” I screeched. There was no doubt in my mind that I was Albert Kingston’s daughter as I watched her curl up on the floor and sob. I beat my family like he did.

*****

The next day, I watched Mother lace her corset tighter, apply lipstick, and preen her hair into a light, fluffy pompadour. She would’ve looked every inch the perfect American Gibson Girl, had it not been for her protruding belly and perhaps her age. She and King were lovers once more. I couldn’t summon the courage to ask her about Benjamin.

Relatives flooded in from the neighbouring villages of St Kew, St Breward, St Teath and St Mabyn for my grandmother’s funeral. I backed into the corners, feeling awkward among the family who were strangers to me. Indeed, my own Mother, who I now wondered was a murdering whore, became estranged to me with every intimate glance she shared with King.

Mary and Emma were closer than ever. I felt guilty, but was still fuming. How dare Mary suggest such things? She had some lovely shiners (as the Cockney people would say) and a cut lip and cheek for her wicked tongue. I was scared that I was becoming like Father, but I so desperately wanted the letter to be proven false, or I would lose everything.

Revolt burned my tongue, as I peered through the keyhole, seeing Mother and King kiss, knowing he might be my real Father.

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