Thirty
‘Wait until I catch you, you little bitch!’ The man’s voice struck terror into the hearts of the two small girls hiding under the stairs. ‘I’ll tan your hide, Sarah, you see if I don’t.’
Samantha squeezed her twin sister’s hand reassuringly but didn’t say a word; Pa had sharp ears and even the slightest sound might give their whereabouts away. She hardly dared breathe as she heard the sounds of doors being opened and slammed shut as their father searched for them. Tears were trickling silently down Sarah’s face when Samantha touched her cheek. Both of them knew that if Pa found them they would be beaten, but Sarah would bear the brunt of it, because Pa hated her. He blamed her for causing their mother’s death, as she’d been born last and it had taken so long that Ma had been exhausted and died soon after.
Neither of the girls had known their mother, but Pa said she was a saint and, when drunk, accused Sarah of murdering her. Samantha had come quickly and the parents had been gazing fondly on their daughter when Jenni May was gripped with terrible pain once more and this time it had gone on for hours, ending with Sarah’s birth and Jenni lying in an exhausted fever from which she never recovered.
When the girls were younger, a woman had come in every day to take care of them and to cook Pa’s meals. She was a pretty woman, sharp when addressing the twins, especially Sarah, and quick with her hand, but whenever their father was around she was all sweetness and light, and he was taken in by her every word. When she said Sarah was awkward, stubborn and rebellious, Pa agreed that she must be kept in check, but he left the chastising to Melanie.
Although he had drinking bouts every so often, he’d been content enough whilst Melanie looked after the house and everyone had expected they would marry one day, but the previous year, a few days before the twins’ tenth birthday, there had been a fierce quarrel and Melanie had left them, vowing never to return and swearing that Ernie May was an impossible man. She said he’d taken advantage of her good nature and she wouldn’t put up with it a minute longer – declaring that only she would have had the patience to take care of brats like his, and that she would have no more of it. After that, Pa’s temper had grown worse and worse and he’d taken against his daughters, particularly Sarah. It was Sarah who had caused all his troubles, because she had killed her sainted mother. He wished she’d died at birth and wanted only to be free of his responsibility towards the twins.
Samantha knew all this, because Aunt Jane had told her when she visited a week previously. Their aunt was a tall thin woman with a sharp face and a hard mouth, though her eyes sometimes told of something more inside her, something she kept a tight rein on. Samantha had asked her why Pa hated them so, and her aunt told her in a harsh voice that felt to Samantha like the lash of a whip. Sarah had merely stared at Aunt Jane, taking very little in as always. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand anything, as Pa and Aunt Jane thought, but she was slow at putting things together in her mind and she couldn’t form the words properly unless Samantha told her how.
‘You should have been an only child,’ Aunt Jane had told Samantha. ‘The other one caused all the trouble by killing your mother. My brother adored his wife and they longed for a child, even though Jenni was always fragile. The doctors told her she ought not to have children, because of her weak heart, but she wouldn’t listen – and Ernie could refuse her nothing. All would have been well had that idiot not taken so long to come and killed poor Jenni.’
‘But that wasn’t Sarah’s fault,’ Samantha said, feeling protective of her sister. ‘Mummy wouldn’t have blamed her.’ In Samantha’s mind her mother was a beautiful angel, and sometimes when Sarah was weeping and Samantha was hurting with her twin’s pain, she’d felt the presence of someone warm and loving and believed it was her mummy. Sometimes, she felt that their mother was close by, caressing them, and she thought Sarah sensed it too.
‘Jenni was as soft as butter over kids and I dare say she’d have loved her,’ Aunt Jane said, a bitter twist to her mouth, ‘but she’s gone and Ernie has never been the same since. He drinks because he can’t bear it that she’s gone and he hates Sarah.’
‘It isn’t fair,’ Samantha said. ‘Sarah doesn’t mean to break things but she’s clumsy and it just happens …’
‘Well, I’ve told you why your pa drinks and I’ve made my offer,’ Aunt Jane said in her blunt manner. ‘Your pa doesn’t want either of you and he’s made up his mind to go away to work at sea – and that means you’ll be on your own. I’ll take you in, Samantha, and gladly – but I won’t have her. She should be in a proper home where they take care of girls like that … I could ask at St Saviour’s. I hear Sister Beatrice is a good woman, even though she’s a nun and I can’t abide them as a rule …’
Samantha had looked at her beautiful sister and wondered how her aunt could speak so coldly of her beloved twin, who was so innocent and lovely. Her soft fair hair framed perfect features and her wide blue eyes were soft, slightly vacant and dreamy, but her smile was like sunshine, the light coming from her