Part Twelve - Sacrifice of Virtue

Patty Love curled up on the bed, running her fingers through her sister’s blonde locks, as her head rested in her lap. Diana dabbed her tear-stained eyes, composing herself once more after the revelation.

This was the first time in ages that Diana has shown any fragility. She had to face a difficult task that she could not run from but being heavily medicated did take the sting out of the situation.

“I guess this is what happens when you take a romantic stroll along the Tsim Sha Tsui Promenade,” Patty looked to her unseen audience, “Oh dears! It isn’t enough that my sister is pregnant, but she was also with an oriental. She would not survive in society with those stains upon her character.”

“I was really scared,” Diana admitted, before shaking Patty’s pill bottle. “These certainly calmed me down.” She furrowed her brow, “How long have you been taking these pills?”

“Long enough to manage all this,” Patty said, waving her hands in the air. “I don’t call it mummy’s little helper for nothing.” She frowned, staring at the floor, “I started to take them to forget that house but now they get me through my day.” Patty looked up, stroking her sister’s hair, “I’m fine! You don’t have to worry about me. I’m more concerned about you right now.”

“A baby is not possible,” Diana said, “Not in my current situation.”

“There are nice couples who would love a child,” encouraged Patty, “You could stay here, out of sight, then give the baby up for adoption.”

“That may be true with a white baby,” replied Diana. “But this child will be mixed race. I don’t think this town is ready for that. They’ll face so much ridicule and persecution. I just can’t do that to them.”

Patty frowned, “So what do you want to do?”

Diana leaned in closer to her sister so no one else would hear, “I need an abortion.”

“No! Diana!” Patty almost fell off the side of the bed. Her face contorting with horror, “There has got to be some other way.” She clutched her hand even tighter, “It is illegal and dangerous. You could die!”

Diana gripped onto her hand, “That’s why I am so scared.”

“Well, you don’t have to make up your mind right now,” Patty thought for a moment, then said, “I'll get you something to help with the nausea.”

Patty had to excuse herself from the room to think clearly. What her sister was planning was fool-hearted. She couldn’t let her do such a horrific thing. Maybe there was another way? She just needed time to think.

*********

That evening, the air was cool, the scent of earth and eucalyptus lingering. Teddy, Lizzy, Angelo, Syd, and Gina haul blankets, pillows, and a tin of biscuits into the cubby house. The backyard had been transformed into a birthday celebration for Lizzy’s 11th birthday. Paper lanterns hung from the trees, their soft glow casting playful shadows. A cake sat on a small table inside the cubby house, adorned with bright candles, waiting to be lit.

Angelo and Gina’s mother had sent over a large tray of homemade lasagna. The rich layers of pasta, sauce, and cheese filling the air with a delicious aroma. The kids dug in eagerly, with Angelo boasting that his mother’s lasagna could “outshine anything in Italy.”

Lizzy stuffed a forkful into her mouth and mumbled, “I could live off this forever.”

Patty and Diana stood at the back door. Diana, well enough to leave her room, surveyed the scene with a bemused smirk, “I can’t believe she’s already eleven.”

Patty sighed, “Time flies, doesn’t it?”

Diana glanced over at Lizzy, who was directing her friends with the authority of a military general. “She’s got a big brain on her shoulders.”

Patty mused, “She was hauling materials into that cubby earlier. I’m afraid she is planning an experiment to impress her guests.”

Diana chuckled, “What kind of birthday party has a science experiment?”

“A Lizzy Love birthday party.”

Patty turned to Diana, “I hope these shenanigans aren’t too much for you? I just didn’t have the heart to cancel.”

Diana smirked, “Oh. Honey! What I need right now is…something to take my mind off everything.”

As the kids settled into the cubby, Diana retrieved a small, beautifully wrapped package from her purse. “I got her something from Paris. I thought she might like it.”

Lizzy tore into the package with enthusiasm, revealing a wooden puzzle box with intricate carvings. She turned it over in her hands, eyes lighting up. “Oh! This is brilliant!” She ran her fingers along the delicate grooves. “You have to solve it to open it, don’t you?”

Diana smiled, relieved, “That’s right. And there’s something inside when you do.”

Lizzy was already twisting and turning the pieces, her mind whirring, “I love it. It’s a secret waiting to be uncovered.”

They watched as the children disappeared inside the cubby house. Patty and Diana returned to the kitchen for a nice cup of tea. And to avoid all talk of babies.

*********

Inside the cubby, the party was in full swing. Lizzy, Teddy and their friends sat cross-legged on the floor, passing around bowls of popcorn and taking turns trying to outdo each other with the scariest ghost stories. Teddy lay back against a pile of pillows, grinning as Syd attempted to make shadow puppets on the wall, turning a rabbit into some monstrous, fanged creature.

“This is the best birthday ever,” Lizzy announced, still fiddling with her puzzle box.

Angelo stretched out lazily, “It’s not bad. But it needs something… dramatic.”

Syd smirked, “Like what? A séance?”

Lizzy’s eyes lit up, “Oh! I’ve been reading about how to contact spirits. We could try it!”

Gina didn’t look so convinced. Her face dropped; she clutched her arm around herself for protection, “I don’t think we should. We might bring Lucifer from the depths of hell.”

Lizzy gave her a shake, “You won’t make a very good lab assistant without being a little curious of the things that scare you.” She smiled encouragingly, “Imagine if the poor old cave man had have been too scared of fire. We’d never be able to enjoy your mother’s home-made lasagna.” Gina perked up, “It would just be cold tomatoes and raw meat.”

“You always see things so differently. I am so glad we’re friends,” Gina spoke. “You are not like the other kids. You’re just like us.”

“Weird!” Angelo nodded his head in agreement, “It’s nice having kids who don’t think we’re greasy wogs.”

“Or too black,” Syd added.

“Too...creative,” Teddy put in.

Just then, a soft click echoed in the cubby house. Lizzy gasped, “I did it!”

Everyone leaned in as she carefully pulled open the puzzle box’s hidden compartment. Inside, on a small slip of paper, was a handwritten message. Lizzy unfolded it and read aloud. The quote was from Albert Einstein.

“The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing.”

Her eyes widened, her fingers gripping the paper tightly. “It’s like it was meant for me.” Lizzy beamed. “This means I have to keep going. Keep experimenting, keep figuring things out.”

Lizzy carefully tucked the note back into the box, feeling a new sense of purpose. Science wasn’t just playing around—it was discovery. It is exactly what she wanted in life. The ideas started to form bringing a satisfied smile to her face.

********

Lizzy sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, scribbling into her notebook while the others lazed around on cushions and blankets. She had suddenly got a brilliant idea while everyone was yapping.

“What are you writing?” Gina asked, peering over Lizzy’s shoulder.

Lizzy grinned, “Ideas for experiments. You know—cool stuff.”

Teddy snorted, “Like what? Another vinegar and baking soda volcano?”

Lizzy rolled her eyes, “I’m thinking bigger. What if we could make fire without matches? Like cavemen did?”

Angelo raised an eyebrow, “You mean, like, rubbing sticks together?”

“Sort of,” Lizzy said, scribbling something furiously. “But I read about this thing where you can use steel wool and a battery. If you do it right, it sparks and—”

“BOOM?” Syd wiggled his fingers for effect.

“Maybe a small boom,” Lizzy admitted with a mischievous grin.

Just then, a noise outside caught their attention—the sound of scratching claws and a rustling branch. Lizzy held up an oil lamp to get a better view outside the cubby house. Perched on a branch, staring at them with beady, curious eyes, was a brushtail possum.

“Hey, look!” Gina whispered excitedly.

Angelo scoffed, unimpressed, “It’s just a possum.”

Syd shook his head, his voice dropping to a storyteller’s tone, “Heck nah! That’s not just a possum. That’s a watcher.”

Teddy leaned into Syd. Their arms brushing together causing a slight tingle in the pit of his stomach, “A…watcher?”

Syd smirked, “Some say they’re spies for the spirits, watching over the land. If a possum stays too long, it means he’s listening to your secrets.”

Lizzy raised an eyebrow, “And what do they do with those secrets?”

Syd shrugged, “Depends. Sometimes they keep them, sometimes they pass them on to someone who needs to hear them.”

The group fell into silence, staring back at the possum, as if waiting for it to blink first. The possum twitched its nose, then scampered away into the darkness.

Teddy, briefly, wondered if the possum noticed how close Syd and he were. He felt a flare to his face when Syd subtly touched his hand. Teddy wondered who the possum was, right now, telling someone about these two boys and their unholy desires.

*********

Freddie leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against the desk as he stared at the mess of papers before him. Riley Carrington’s name was everywhere. In old news clippings, in police reports, in half-buried accounts that told a story too neat, too convenient to be the truth.

Patty put a slice of plated lasagna by the side of his desk, “Gina’s mother made it.” Freddie barely glanced up, “Freddie! You have to eat! You’ve been at it for ages.” She handed him a fork from her apron, “Eat!”

Freddie finally noticed, brow furrowing, “Looks adventurous!”

“Freddie! It’s food not a conspiracy.” Patty smiled, nudging his arm, playfully. “So, how are you getting on?”

Freddie picked up the plate studying the layers of this new concoction, “It’s got me hooked!” He placed the plate back on his desk, “Pat, this isn’t just another bushranger story.”

Patty sighed, glancing at the papers scattered like a crime scene, “That’s what you said last time and now your desk is buried under conspiracy theories.”

Freddie ignored her, flipping through his notes, “Riley Carrington’s gang was ambushed. Most were shot dead. He was declared killed in the raid; body sent to the morgue.” He grabbed a yellowed police report and tapped the incomplete coroner’s notes. “Here’s the problem. His body was sent to the morgue, and then—”

Patty frowned, “And then?”

Freddie exhaled sharply, “It disappeared.”

Patty’s eyebrows shot up, “I’m sorry—what?”

Freddie leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “And that’s where it gets interesting. There was sighting not long after—accounts of a man who looked too much like Carrington to be a coincidence.” His eyes began to twinkle with relish, “The investigation didn’t get very far as the witness died during a drunken brawl.” Freddie stood up and began pacing the room, “What if he used the gold coins to finance a new life. Change his look, settle down in some outer way place and be right under every one’s nose.”

Patty’s stomach dropped, “He would need help. An accomplice.”

“Exactly.” He flipped open an old station logbook. “And that is why I am searching for names amongst these logbooks. One of them must be his accomplice.”

Patty studied the notes, her mind spinning. A legend that never died. A man who escaped justice, leaving only whispers and questions. This was enough to distract him from his thoughts about Phil. He could pretend he didn’t exist.

Freddie turned his attention back to the slab of lasagna wondering where to start. He could take a rest for a few minutes to clear the whirlpool in his mind.

********

The boys crept behind the old shed, shielding themselves from the glow of the kitchen light. Angelo tapped out a cigarette from the pack, lighting it with a match. He scored the packet from his grandpa while he wasn’t looking. He took a drag, exhaled smoothly, then passed it to Teddy.

Teddy hesitated, staring at the burning tip, then took a tentative puff. His throat burned instantly. He coughed so hard he nearly dropped the cigarette. Syd clapped him on the back, laughing.

“Guys, be cool! Your mum might hear us! I’ve seen what she can do with a broom.”

But, Teddy and Syd seemed not to be paying attention. They were smirking at one another while Syd took a turn smoking the cigarette. He could almost taste Teddy’s lips on the cigarette which excited him. He passed the cigarette back to Teddy who seemed keener to take a drag. They were literally touching each other’s lips without being obvious.

“Ugh,” Teddy muttered, not liking the after-effects. “Why do people do this?”

Angelo shrugged, “Dunno. My cousin says it makes you look cool. I wanna be just like Marlon Brando.”

Teddy blinked through watering eyes, “I think It’ll take more than one of these to make me look cool.”

“…Not really,” Syd admitted.

Teddy blushed.

Angelo frowned a little perturbed, taking another hit of the cigarette, leaning against the shed, “You ever read On the Road?” Teddy shook his head; he looked on in awe knowing all about the book. Flo’s son was heavily influenced by it, “It’s about freedom and breaking the rules. And parents hate us having any freedom. They certainly hinder all possibilities of us breaking the rules. I loved it.”

Syd nodded, interested, “Sounds kinda my thing. I’m surprised I didn’t find it first.”

“You’d like it,” Angelo said. “It’s about guys who don’t wanna be stuck in some boring town forever.”

Teddy considered that. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from life, but the idea of going anywhere—somewhere different—sounded tempting. He could escape to somewhere he was accepted for the way he was like in the big city.

For a moment, he let the thought linger in the smoke between them. Then, suddenly—Boom! A horrible, rotten stench filled the air. The boys froze.

“…Did you just—?” Teddy began.

Syd waved his hands frantically, “No!”

Angelo doubled over, gagging, “Ava Marie, what is that?!”

Before they could react, Lizzy and Gina screamed from inside the cubby house. One sounded gleeful while the other was outraged. The girls fled outside.

Diana dashed out the back door, concern on her face, “What happened! Is everyone accounted for?” She pulled up noticing the hysterics of the children, “You devil children! I almost had kittens!”

Patty pulled up behind her, “Lizzy! Dear! One more bang…and I will cancel your birthday.”

Diana leaned into her sister, “You know, Patty, I think your children are becoming delinquents. Though the best possible kind.”

Patty glanced at her sister, “You do know this all could be your fate too? Any second thoughts?”

“No! You’re built for this kind of life. I’m not,” Diana replied, retreating into the house. “I get to enjoy their delinquency from a distance.”

Lizzy turned to her mother, grinned, completely unrepentant, “Mum! Did you see that! So awesome.”

Patty shook her head and went back inside the house.

Angelo groaned, “I think I’d rather smoke another cigarette.”

Teddy, wiping his stinging eyes, muttered. He wondered what the possum would have thought of all this.

********

The morning sunlight poured into the kitchen, illuminating the warm tones of the wooden cabinets and casting a soft glow on the freshly washed dishes drying on the counter. Her sister was taking a nap in the guest room.

Patty, her thoughts a whirlpool of anxiety, was absentmindedly wiping down the kitchen table when a knock on the back door startled her. She quickly composed herself and went to answer it, surprised to find Flo standing there with a basket of fresh pastries.

“Morning, Patty,” Flo greeted, her smile bright and welcoming. “Thought I’d bring over some pastries from the bakery. They’re fresh out of the oven.” She leaned in close, “And in exchange I would love some juicy stories from your sister.”

“You’ll have to settle for my stories instead,” Patty forced a smile, grateful for Flo’s kindness but unable to shake the turmoil inside her. “Diana is having a rest.”

“I've heard those long-haul flights can be murder,” As Flo stepped into the kitchen, her keen eyes quickly noticed Patty's strained expression. “You okay, my darling? You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Patty hesitated, biting her lip as she debated whether to confide in Flo. She needed someone to talk to, someone who could understand. Finally, she let out a sigh, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Flo, I need your wisdom right now.” She took her hand, “Promise you won’t judge us?”

“Oh! No! This thing with Dick Witting has gotten even more complicated?”

“It’s not me. This time,” Patty replied.

“You can confide in me,” Flo placed the basket on the counter and took Patty’s hand, leading her to the kitchen table. “Sit down and tell me what is going on.”

Patty’s eyes filled with tears as she recounted her sister’s shocking revelation on her pregnancy. Flo gently squeezed her hand. “Well, she sure didn’t bring back the souvenir I was expecting.”

“She’s…oh I can’t even say it without getting queasy myself,” Patty leaned in closer to her friend, “Diana is talking about having an abortion of all things. Have you ever... I mean, have you ever had to deal with something like this?”

“I have had one. It was a long time ago. I got pregnant, but the circumstances were…complicated.” Flo’s reassuring tone seemed to drop, “It’s not an easy decision. Having the procedure was why I had so much trouble having my son.” She looked with a wistfully expression on her face, “I made a difficult decision. It wasn’t easy, but it was the right choice for me.”

Patty’s eyes widened in surprise, “I had no idea, Flo.”

“Well, I don’t exactly go around wearing a sandwich board telling everyone my lapsed virgin story.” Flo offered a reassuring smile. “It was a long time ago, and I’ve made peace with it. What matters now is helping Diana.” She hesitated for a moment, “I know someone who can help her…if she still wants to go through with it.” She lent in toward her, “But hush hush. You can’t tell a soul not even that gorgeous husband of yours.” Flo stood up preparing to leave without staying for a cuppa, “There will be a lot of pain and discomfort that is best endured without an audience. You’ll come to my place afterwards.”

“But what about Freddie?”

“Just tell him I need my new drapes hemmed,” Flo’s eyes lit up with mischief, “He knows I’m all thumbs and toes when it comes to sewing.” Patty nodded; she could make that work. “And while you’re doing that, I could be innocently catching up with Diana. I must hear everything about Paris.” Flo smirked, “Did I ever tell you about my French pen pal? I still have the nude snap he sent me.” Patty looked on in shock, “Hey! It was tasteful. All in the name of art.” She began to flap her arms about, “I’m sorry. I’m babbling! I always do when anxious. I’ll be back tomorrow once I’ve organised everything.”

With Flo supporting them every step of the way seemed to put her at ease. She just wasn’t sure that abortion was the right thing to do. She was conflicted.

Later that afternoon, a knock came from the back door, Patty placed down the tray to open it. Ruby never waited for an invitation she just stepped inside. She was clutching a basket balanced on her hip, her eyes scanning the kitchen as if searching for something—or someone.

“Ruby! This really isn’t the best time,” Patty said dryly. “My sister isn’t well, and I am so busy taking care of her.”

“Well, my girl. Must be your lucky day. I brought you some lemons and mint. Best thing for all illnesses of the world,” Patty took the basket, glancing down at the bright yellow fruit nestled between sprigs of fresh mint. “Now, since I have come out of my way, how about putting on the kettle? I am drier than the Simpson desert.”

Patty had a feeling that Ruby was here for something else. Yet a good hostess never refused a cuppa to a visitor. She put on the kettle.

Ruby leaned against the counter, eyes drifting toward the hallway, where the faint sound of a strumming guitar could be heard followed by hushed laughter floated through the house.

“Sounds like Teddy’s got himself a good teacher,” she remarked, her voice casual—too casual. Ruby’s faced grimaced when the strumming turned to a strangled chord not fit for the human ear, “Oh! My! Teddy’ll need a professor of music to get anywhere with that instrument.” Ruby’s lips twitched into a soft smile, but there was something else in her expression—something deeper, almost wistful. “But his teacher does sound persistent.”

“Is this wise, Ruby? Being here?” Patty looked toward the hallway where Syd and Teddy’s muffled conversation blended with the scratchy twang. “You’re inviting yourself into his life. And I don’t think you realize what that could mean.”

Ruby went very still, “I can’t stay away. Not now. I have an in-road with him through your son.” She smiled, almost manically. “I can spend time with him…learn about what he thinks and feels…maybe he already knows about me and has been looking just like me.”

“What if…?”Patty trailed off as she spotted Syd standing in the doorway, guitar in hand, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Ruby’s expression softened immediately, “Hey there, kiddo.”

Syd held up the guitar, “You ever play?”

Ruby let out a breath of a laugh, shaking her head, “I’ve played a little bit.”

“That’s better than what Teddy is trying to do in there,” Syd grinned. “You want to show him how it is done?”

Patty watched her carefully, expecting hesitation—but Ruby simply smiled, following after him without another word.

Patty let out a slow sigh, pressing her hand against the cool countertop. She knew what Ruby was doing. She just wasn’t sure if either of them was ready for what would come next.

*********

Diana settled into the rickety lawn chair, letting the late afternoon sun warm her skin as she flipped lazily through the glossy pages of a French women’s magazine translated into English. The articles were filled with Parisian elegance—effortless fashion, scandalous love affairs, and bold ideas she longed to lose herself in. Anything to pull her mind away from the weight of the decision she had made.

A flicker of movement caught her eye. Teddy was sprawled out on his stomach near the edge of the yard, flipping through a well-worn comic book. His brow furrowed in deep concentration; his fingers smudged with pencil lead from the sketches she knew he’d been working on.

“What are you reading?” she asked, tilting her head.

Teddy looked up, blinking as if surprised she was speaking to him. Then he held up the cover. The Phantom.

Diana raised a brow, amused, “A masked man in purple tights? I can see the appeal.”

“He’s the Ghost Who Walks. He never dies—well, people think he never dies, but it’s really a legacy. Each Phantom trains the next one, so the world believes he’s immortal.” Teddy sat up, getting animated now. “He fights for justice, but he doesn’t have superpowers. Just his wits and strength.”

Diana leaned in, studying the cover more closely. There was something striking about the Phantom’s sharp features, his confident stance, the mystery of his mask.

“He looks mysterious, almost dangerous…” she smirked, “And quite dashing. My type of man.”

Teddy beamed, flipping to a page where the Phantom faced off against smugglers in the jungle, “He’s got a whole hidden world. A secret cave, a skull throne. He protects the innocent and punishes the wicked.”

Diana chuckled, tucking her legs beneath her, “Sounds like something out of a grand adventure novel.” She glanced at the sketchpad beside him. “Speaking of stories, what have you been working on?”

Teddy hesitated, then passed it over. Diana flipped through the pages, her brows lifting in surprise. He had talent. His lines were bold yet detailed, his characters expressive. Among them, she spotted a masked figure—not quite the Phantom but clearly inspired by him.

“These are really good, Teddy,” she said sincerely. “Have you ever thought about doing this for real? Comics, I mean?”

Teddy shrugged, “Maybe. But who’d want to read my stories?”

“Are you kidding? People love heroes, especially ones that stand for something. If the Phantom can last this long, why not yours?” Diana tapped one of his sketches, “You know, when I was in Paris, I visited the Louvre. I was surrounded by the greatest art in the world—centuries of genius, all in one place. It made me realize art isn’t just something beautiful to look at. It’s history. It’s storytelling.”

Teddy’s eyes gleamed with curiosity, “What was it like?”

Diana leaned back with a dreamy sigh, “Breathtaking. The Mona Lisa is smaller than you’d think, but she has this way of looking at you. And then there’s Delacroix’s Liberty Leading the People, this huge, sweeping scene of revolution. It makes you feel like you’re in it.” She smiled, “You’d love it. Paris is a city that breathes art. People sketch on street corners, paintings hang in tiny cafés, sculptures stand like guardians in the parks.” Teddy listened, enraptured. “You should go one day,” Diana said, nudging his shoulder. “See it for yourself.”

Teddy smirked, “Maybe when I’m a world-famous comic book illustrator.”

Diana grinned, “Exactly.”

For a moment, the weight in her chest felt a little lighter. Here, in the backyard, sharing stories and dreams with a boy who still believed in heroes, she almost forgot what awaited her.

Then, casually, she flipped through another page of her magazine and said, “So, tell me about these new friends of yours.”

Teddy stiffened slightly, “Which ones?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Diana glanced at him over her the top of the magazine, “Syd, maybe?”

Teddy’s lips quirked, his pencil hovering over his sketchpad, “He’s alright.”

Diana smirked, “Just alright?”

Teddy shrugged, but his ears turned pink, “I mean… he’s smart. You know street smart. He knows stuff that frightens me one minute and makes me feel so excited the next.” He traced a lazy line across the page, “He’s probably my best mate...but don’t tell Angelo I said that.”

Diana leaned forward, stealing another peek at his sketchpad—and wasn’t at all surprised to see a certain familiar face taking shape in the pencil lines.

********

The evening air was thick with tension as Patty, Diana, and Flo made their way through the dimly lit streets. Diana’s face was pale, her steps hesitant, but her resolve firm. Patty walked beside her, holding her hand tightly, offering silent support. Flo led the way, her demeanour brisk and businesslike.

They arrived at an unassuming house on the outskirts of Rosella Heights. The backyard was hidden by a high fence, providing the privacy they desperately needed. Flo knocked on the gate in a specific rhythm, and it swung open to reveal a stern-looking woman in her late forties.

“Come in,” she said curtly, stepping aside to let them pass.

The backyard was small and cluttered, with an old wooden table set up under a rickety awning with a makeshift curtain hung to provide some semblance of privacy. The woman gestured for Diana to sit on the table.

“This is Mrs. O’Hara,” Flo introduced. “She’ll take care of you.”

Mrs O’Hara seemed to lose her stern appearance when Flo handed over some cash. This seemed to ease the woman’s concerns.

Mrs. O’Hara nodded, her expression softening slightly as she looked at Diana, “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible.”

Diana swallowed hard, her eyes darting to Patty for reassurance. Patty gave her hand a squeeze.

The older woman glanced at Patty, then at Diana, “We’ll need to get started right away. The sooner we do this, the better.”

Diana nodded, her eyes wide with fear. She lay down on the table, gripping Patty’s hand tightly. Patty could feel her sister trembling, and she leaned in close, whispering words of comfort.

As Mrs. O’Hara prepared her instruments, Flo moved to stand by Patty’s side.

Patty brushed a strand of hair from Diana's forehead, “We’re here with you, Diana. You’re not alone.”

Diana nodded again, tears streaming down her face, “I know. I just... I never thought I’d be in a spot like this.”

The women gave Diana something that smelt like whiskey. She downed the concoction which seemed to dull her senses. She was no longer present in the here and now. She was floating above everything else.

Mrs. O'Hara worked efficiently, her hands steady and sure. Diana winced but stayed silent, her grip on Patty’s hand tightening. Patty kept her eyes on her sister, offering every ounce of strength she had.

After what felt like an eternity, Mrs. O’Hara stepped back, wiping her hands on a towel. “It’s done,” she said quietly. “She’ll need to rest for a while. No vigorous movements and the bleeding should stop.” The woman eyes them calculatedly, “Now if you wouldn’t mind,” She nodded to the gate that they entered, “I don’t need any nosey neighbours cottoning on.”

Flo stepped forward providing a pad for Diana before she put back on her pants. They both helped her to sit up, her movements gentle and caring, “Let’s get you back to mine.”

Diana nodded, her face pale, like she was in a dream world.

Patty and Flo supported Diana as they made their way back to the gate. Mrs. O’Hara watched them go, her expression unreadable.

Flo went to get the car while Patty waited with Diana by the gate. The weight of the night settled heavily on their shoulders. But they were together, and they knew that they had done what needed to be done.

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