Sweet Satisfaction - Seventy-Seven

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Seventy-Seven

I kept telling myself that it wasn’t true. Mother and my new-born baby sister couldn’t be dead. They couldn’t be. I put my hand to my heart as it was ripped apart, aching with uncomprehend-able loss. There was a heavy strain on it which hurt. Hurt hard. It was painful. It was paralysing. I watched in time, as those around me sobbed, trying to take in the truth.

I looked at the baby in my arms. I hated her. Mother wouldn’t have died if she hadn’t given birth to her. But she wasn’t a doll; I couldn’t throw across the room, discard her when I wanted. She was my beautiful baby sister with big blue eyes and golden tufts and I had promised Mother I would look after her, Minnie and Mary. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Mother and my sister’s corpse, which Father and Albert were desperately shaking. Like myself, they couldn’t understand how she could be gone from us. How she had suddenly stopped existing and departed for Heaven.

“I’m so sorry, Albert.” Natalya got up, reaching out to comfort him with bloodied hands. Mother’s blood. Natalya had promised not to hurt Mother’s baby. My little sister was dead, my sister who had barely had time to live in this world. And Mother was dead. Mother was dead. How could she be dead? I glanced over at her still body and burst into a fresh flood. A terrible thought entered my head; had Natalya somehow killed my sister and Mother?

“Leave me alone, Natalya,” Father growled, “This is over; the inheritance isn’t mine.” Natalya nodded. She had nodded to the thing she had murdered my brother for, gone to prison for, plotted to kill me for, and desired for so long. King put an arm around Father, looking grave and solemn.

“The inheritance is Rose’s.” I didn’t care! How could they talk about the blasted inheritance when my Mother, my beautiful, bold, and brave Mother was dead? What was I going to do without her? How could I have a life without her? Mary and I shifted together and we sat huddled together sobbing, our little sisters in our arms, constantly showered by our never-ending tears.

“What are we going to do, Elsie?” Mary sobbed.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” 

Rose and Alice, meanwhile, were showing no signs of celebrating, even though they had killed Thomas Kingston’s brother and brother’s wife for the inheritance. No-one cared about the inheritance anymore, because my Mother and her baby had just died. Mary’s trembling body gave out and I took Annabel from her, a baby in each arm, Mary’s arms around me too. I hugged them all. They needed a hug, especially my tiny sisters, for they had just lost their mother. They would never know her. I sobbed again. 

“We’ll give you money,” Rose said desperately, swallowing hard, “For the funeral and burial.” I looked over at Mother’s lifeless but peaceful body, clutching the tiny bundle and felt my heart splinter into pieces.

“And we’ll give you money to get back to Russia.” Rose turned to Natalya and Emma. It was strange seeing them together, scheming mother and daughter. Why did Emma get to keep her mother. Why did my mother have to die? I felt so numb.

“We’ll just need to pay the spies. I told them to wait outside. I’ll let them in, shall I?” Rose said.

“Spies?” My Father muttered. Thinking about his job, his horrible, murderous job.

“Not government, war spies. We employed a boy and a girl to befriend Elsie and to help us as we plotted to kill her.” I looked up. What did she mean?

And just when I thought my heart couldn’t be destroyed any further, in walked Bobby and Susanna. They stared in horror at the scene. Then Bobby looked at me. All the oxygen had gone from my lungs. I felt so dizzy and my stomach was flipping.

“Elsie…” My heart raced as Susanna hung onto his arm. They were together. They were the spies. They had plotted to kill me too. A great weight seemed to press on my chest and I could barely keep the two babies in my arms. They had betrayed me too. They had lied to me too. I could see the dread in Bobby’s eyes. I felt so feint.

Rose had counted out a stack of pounds, guineas and ten-shilling notes, and was passing them to Susanna and Bobby. They were receiving money. Receiving money for helping to destroy me. Susanna smirked at Rose.

“Oh no, I want all of the money. You see, I’m the Kingston Heiress.” Everyone stared at her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rose snapped, turning her head sharply as I gasped.

“Susanna’s right.” I blinked, head swimming.

“The necklace… the necklace with the Kingston crest on it… the story about your parents being murdered and the inheritance… the article in the newspaper. You and Bobby are Robert Sutton and… Roxanna Kingston.”  

Susanna’s eyes glittered as she grinned smugly.  Rose and Alice threw each other looks of complete horror.

“This can’t be true,” Alice whispered. Rose shook her head.

“You stupid little liar,” Rose snarled, pushing Susanna backwards with force. Susanna smashed into the wall, and then advanced on Rose, screeching. Annabel and Minnie started to wail. I desperately tried to rock them, making ‘ssh’ noises. What had I done? Susanna was the true Kingston Heiress! All that time…

Bobby tried to pull Susanna back as she fought, but Susanna reached down and pulled my Father’s gun from his belt, where he and King were sitting sobbing inconsolably on the floor. Rose screeched, grabbing hold of Susanna’s wrist as she put her finger on the trigger. My eyes bulged. Her wrist flicked, twisting. 

BANG.

The bullet flew through the air.

I screamed, scrambling backwards into the wall, out of the path of the bullet.

“Mary!” I yelled, no hand free to wrench her towards me. I was too late. It went into her chest. I could hear myself going ‘no, no’ as Mary sprawled backwards, flying through the air, crashing to the floor, the scarlet seeping all over her blouse, falling with a crack.

Emma, Rose, King and Father ran over and we all crouched beside Mary. They clutched her hands frantically, tearing open her blouse and dabbing cloths on the gunshot wound. This couldn’t be happening. Mary couldn’t have been shot. The babies were screaming in my arms. Mary was screeching, letting out shaky, stutter-y breaths. She was going to die. She couldn’t die. She couldn’t die too. Everything was spinning. Everything was a whirlpool of confusion.

Emma looked up in anguish.

“You bitch, Roxanna. That’s my sister, you bitch.” 

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