The Best of Sisters by Dilly Court Page B

Hey, Mary.’ Eliza put two fingers in her mouth and whistled, beckoning toMary as she looked around to see who was calling her.
    Mary ran up to them, smiling shyly. ‘Hello, Liza.’
    ‘This is Millie Turner and it’s her first day at school. I want you to look after her, and see that no one bullies her.’
    With a gap-toothed grin, Mary held her hand out to Millie. ‘Come with me then, Millie.’
    They went off hand in hand and Eliza swallowed a lump in her throat as she watched them disappear into the crowd of whooping, giggling children. With Bart so far away, Millie had become as dear to her as a real sister and Dolly was like a mother to them both. Eliza was still a bit in awe of Ted, who was inclined to be brusque and strict at times, although he was never unkind. Brushing a tear from her eyes, Eliza turned on her heel and hurried off to Anchor Street where she was to help Freddie make up a batch of cough mixture and cold cures, ready for the start of the winter ailments.
    She knocked on the door, expecting that Beattie would open it, but no one came and she knocked a second time. The door opened but it was Carlo Donatiello who brushed past her without a second glance. She managed to slip inside before it closed and she went straight to Freddie’s room. She knocked but there was no answer and, assuming that he must haveoverslept, she tried the handle. The door was unlocked and she and walked in, ready to tease Freddie for being a lazybones. The curtains were drawn but the pale morning sunlight filtered through the moth holes; it was the noise from the bed that made Eliza peer into the dim corner. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp of shock and dismay as she saw two figures writhing about on the narrow bed. Completely naked, with her brassy blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders and full breasts, Beattie was astride Freddie, moving rhythmically up and down as though she were riding a pony. Horrified but also fascinated, Eliza saw Freddie’s hands move up Beattie’s glistening body to cup her breasts; his back was arched and his eyes closed and, to Eliza’s horror, he too was naked. She had heard the chambermaids at Mrs Tubbs’s house describe the act of love, but she had never before witnessed anything like this. If she had not known better she would have thought they were both in agony, judging by the grunts and moans that issued from their lips. Freddie was groaning, moving faster and faster and squeezing Beattie’s plump breasts until they resembled a couple of pounds of chitterlings. Beattie’s bare buttocks bumped and slapped on his thighs and her knuckles showed white as she clutched the bedrail. With her head thrown back, Beattie’s throaty gurgling rose to a crescendo and, almostwithout knowing she was doing it, Eliza screamed with her.
    Beattie collapsed onto Freddie’s chest and they turned their heads to stare at her with startled, unfocused eyes. Then, as if stung by a wasp, Beattie let out a screech and leapt off Freddie with one bound, taking the bed sheet with her and wrapping it round her naked, sweating body.
    ‘Little bitch,’ Beattie screamed. ‘Bleeding peeping Tom.’
    Covering his naked lower half with his pillow, Freddie sat up in bed, his face and torso slicked with beads of sweat. He managed a feeble grin. ‘Hello, Eliza. You’re early.’
    Swaying dizzily on her feet, Eliza clamped her hand over her mouth. She was going to be sick, her heart felt as though it had swollen up and was going to burst; she couldn’t breathe.
    ‘Get out,’ Beattie cried, advancing on Eliza with her hand raised. ‘Get out before I fetch you a clout round the lughole.’
    Eliza needed no second bidding; somehow her feet seemed to work independently of her brain. They carried her out of the room, out of the house and along the street, regardless of anything or anyone in her way. She had no clear idea where she was going and she ran, sobbing and gulping air into her lungs. How could Freddie