T.S.

Diana age 16: early march 1914

Greta's response was a series of weak coughs now. She had begun coughing up blood about half a month back. They say that's the final stage. But even with the thought of a near approaching death, she smiled like a little girl at the sight of any of us. Her friends had abandoned her so we were her only friends now. On the 3rd of March 1914, she caught a fever again. She was delirious with it and even when she wasn't sleeping. She apologised for everything, for being wicked, for calling me a witch. I forgave her but she spluttered about bad omens. Once Tom came in she asked for her sister too. The fever started dying down but her breathing was shallow and going slower by the minute. My eyes fixate in her and I realise," Tom. Keep her fucking awake don't let her go back to sleep."

He nods knowing what's happening. I dart out the door and up the street. I rush into the milliners and shout, "Kitty! Kitty Jurossi!" The girls around me rush about with work but within seconds Kitty is by my side. I pull her out the door and we run back home. Greta is heaving her breaths now. The blood is coughed into a handkerchief. "She started having a coughing fit and I didn't know what to do." says Tom frantically

He hadn't seen the blood before, "It's normal Tom."

He looks on end, like a spark in a fire.

In the last 3 months, Kitty had never come into the room, just sat by the door and looked at her sister. They speak in Italian for a while and tears stream down both of their faces. Kitty presses a kiss to her forehead and looks at us to do the same. We all do and Tom and Greta hold hands. And then, all at once, Greta sighs a bit before going completely quiet. The room is silent. She'd died. We're all not quite sure how to react. Kitty walks us down stairs pale faced. "The doctors will come now won't they?"

"We have to call them." I say

We all stare at the door to the staircase. "Can you do it Di?"

She's shaking, "I'll do it, Kitty."

Tom is quiet and stoic apart from the few tears that come out of eyes. He wipes his eyes stubbornly.

"She said to go back to Italy. She said my parents would be waiting for me. But they're not. They're waiting for her to die."

We look at her. Her quiet fury is imminent. "I need to go on a walk." she says

She leaves. Tom and I walk to his house and use the shop's phone to call the doctors. We direct them to Greta's house and when we get back they're already there. They ask for a family member and we say that we are. He can clearly tell we aren't but it's neither here. He walks in and up the stairs. He's probably stripping the bed and making sure she's clean enough for him to touch her. And that's when it dawns on me that he's up there by himself. Tom realises too and we walk up to inspect his work. He heaves sighs of relief when we see him doing his job accordingly. He does his work and brings her body down stairs. The people from the morgue arrive shortly and take her away. Kitty still isn't back. However, finally, from around the corner comes John bringing back a white faced kitty. "She had a nasty scare at the tracks-"

"The tracks? The train ones you mean?" I interject anxiously. He looks at me as if to say 'yes you dunce'. "She had a fright but she's better now. And now we're going to go in and help her pack away some stuff." He's melancholic but assertive. And like clockwork Kitty walks into the house and up the stairs to sort Kitty's Stuff. She hangs a black handkerchief in the window and weeps quietly. Not a month ago I had done the same. Kitty had watched me weep whilst we worked in the tailors but now, It was my turn to be strong for her.