Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection

As though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, he pointed to the telephone table. ‘You know where Edna’s number is, though I don’t think you’ll need it. You know how Sylvia is: she has a bad time, then it goes away and leaves her drained for a while. I’ll see you later.’

Georgina acknowledged with a nod. She knew he had cut that moment between them out of his mind, and it told her that he was either very cunning to have rejected her and was playing a long game, or he was genuinely still in love with his errant wife.

‘Don’t worry, Luke, I’ll see to it,’ she assured him. ‘Mind how you go.’ In a way she was glad things had not gone too far. There would be time when Sylvia was off the scene. In the meantime, Don Carson was satisfying her appetite with great energy, though she’d have no compunction in dropping him when she became bored with him.

A moment later, she could hear Luke running up the stairs and then the faint sound of a door squeaking open. Then he was running back down. The front door opened and closed, and he was gone.

She ran to the window where, engrossed in watching his car as it drove away, she almost leaped out of her skin when a voice whispered close to her ear, ‘He’s gone to see his sweetheart.’

Swinging round, she saw Sylvia. Still dressed in her flimsy nightgown, and with her hair wild about her shoulders, she looked like a mad woman.

‘For God’s sake, Sylvia … you’ll catch pneumonia, running about like that.’

Wrapping her arms round her sister’s shoulders, Georgina led her gently back upstairs. ‘First we’ll get you dressed, then I’ll make you a hot breakfast … egg and bacon with tomatoes and toast,’ she suggested tenderly. ‘Would you like that?’

Sylvia nodded. ‘Then what?’

‘Well, if you feel like it, we’ll think about going out. We could buy you a new fur hat if you want, or a pair of boots to keep you warm.’

‘Oh, yes, I’d like that.’

Perfectly lucid now, Sylvia chatted eagerly. ‘Remember the last time we went shopping?’ she asked with a grin. ‘I saw this beautiful blue scarf in Hatton’s window. I might go back and buy it.’

They talked about the scarf and other items of clothing that Sylvia might fancy, and as they walked into the bedroom, the two of them were laughing and joking, just as they had done when they were young and fancy-free, on the days when Georgina suppressed her jealousy and insecurity and sisterly love was allowed to flourish.

‘I need to visit the bathroom.’ Sylvia turned back towards the door. As she went she called out, ‘Why don’t we have breakfast in town? There’s that lovely restaurant down from the church.’

‘Whatever you want,’ Georgina replied. ‘As long as we leave enough time for shopping afterwards.’

Relieved that all was normal again, and hopeful that it would turn out to be a good day for them both, Georgina softly sang as she busied herself, tidying the room.

‘Honestly, Sylvia,’ she called out, ‘you really are a sloppy devil! You’ve always been the same. I remember when Mother used to blame me for the mess, and it was you all along, but you never did own up –’

She might have finished the sentence if at that moment some sound behind her hadn’t made her whip round. Sylvia was standing in the doorway and the look on her face was of pure hatred.

‘It was you who used to make a mess, you who spilled things and broke things on purpose to try to get me into trouble.’

‘Come on now, Sylvia, you know that wouldn’t have worked. You were always our mother’s favourite,’ said Georgina, trying to jolly her along.

‘You lied,’ insisted Sylvia, working herself into a frenzy. ‘You lied and you cheated. You stole my clothes and my pearl necklace. You even tried to steal my boyfriends, but they wouldn’t have you. You’re no better now than you were then. You told tales, and they weren’t true – horrible lies you told to Mother. You even lied about me to her when she was dying.’ Sylvia launched herself at her sister like a wild animal.

‘YOU BASTARD!’ Lashing out with her fists, she caught Georgina a hard blow on the side of her face. ‘You always told tales on me, even when I asked you not to. Tell-tale tit, that’s what you are!’

Screaming like a banshee she let up with the blows, only long enough to grab the curtain cord. Yanking it down, she threw it round Georgina’s neck. She began to pull tighter and tighter, all the while laughing like a crazy woman. ‘I said I’d pay you back,’ she hissed softly, ‘and now it’s time.’

Terrified for her life, Georgina fought hard. The cord was rough and scorching her neck, and Sylvia was strong in her wild rage. After a desperate struggle Georgina managed to loosen her sister’s hold on her. She threw aside the cord at the same time as twisting Sylvia’s arm nearly out of its socket. Sylvia screamed and leaped back, the spitting Fury transformed to an injured animal in a moment.

‘I’m sorry … I’m sorry!’ Sobbing uncontrollably, Sylvia cowered away. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you … please, Georgina, don’t tell on me, will you? Please don’t tell Mother.’

Georgina couldn’t speak; her throat felt as though it were on fire. Backing away from her sister, she ran to the bathroom where she locked the door and for a moment stood with her back to it, terrified in case Sylvia followed her.

‘She’s mad!’ The words issued in a harsh, broken whisper. ‘Stark, staring mad!’

Emblazoned on her mind was the unbelievable. Her own sister had tried to kill her!

In the mirror she saw her neck was marked by the cord. Still trembling, she splashed cool water over her face and neck; she scooped it into her hands and drank it, every gulp feeling red-hot in her throat.

‘Georgina!’ Sylvia’s quiet, pleading voice sounded close to the keyhole. ‘Please come out. I won’t hurt you any more. I never meant to do it. Please, Georgina … I’m so sorry.’

Georgina ran the tap faster and faster so it might drown out her sister’s voice. Time and again she scooped up the water and drank it down, groaning with each mouthful yet determined to ease the fire inside.

‘Please, come out, Georgina. I’m really frightened …’

Georgina turned the tap full on. She sat on the floor with her back to the door and listened to her sister pleading. Shocked rigid by the incident, she made no attempt to open the door, or to reply. Instead she kept very quiet, hardly daring to breathe.

Presently the pleading stopped and there was no sound from the other side of the door.

Now the tables had turned again. ‘Sylvia?’ Georgina’s voice issued in a harsh, rasping sound. ‘Are you there, Sylvia?’

No answer.

‘Sylvia?’

Still no answer.

Clambering up, Georgina turned off the tap and put her ear to the door.

The silence was eerie.

Softly now, she inched open the door and looked up and down the corridor. Sylvia was nowhere to be seen.

Quickly and soft-padded as a cat, she made her way downstairs to the sitting room.

‘Sylvia?’ The soft sound of crying sent her towards the sofa. ‘Where are you, Sylvia?’

It took but a moment to find her. Crouched down behind the sofa, Sylvia was crying like a bairn, arms folded across her face, and her hands tugging so viciously at her hair, it was likely to come out by the roots.

On seeing Georgina she looked up, her eyes red and swollen, and her mouth quivering. ‘I’m insane, aren’t I?’ she asked. ‘They’ll lock me away now, won’t they?’

Going gently forward, Georgina slid to the floor beside her. All her fear had evaporated when she found the pathetic weaping wreck of her sister. ‘No one’s going to lock you away,’ she whispered, her heart softened – at least for now. ‘I won’t let them!’

‘When you tell Mother what I did,’ wide, confused eyes stared up, ‘she’ll make them lock me away.’

‘I won’t tell,’ Georgina promised. ‘I can’t.’

‘Why can’t you?’

‘You know why.’