Chapter 11

There was a knock on the front door of the terraced house and Abigail looked up. "Not fer me," she muttered and stared at Moira and her parents sat around the table.

Moira groaned and threw her fork down on the plate, striding down the small hall and flinging open the door. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the face of her ex-boyfriend and went to close it when her put his foot in the door. "Moira, please. Ah wanna spa'k to you."

She snorted. "Yer screwed that dirty bitch," she cried. "Five years Quentin. Ah told you yesterday and day 'fore at bakery. Ah keep tellin' ya, ah not goin' out with ya."

He bit his lip and opened pulled out a ring from his pocket. "But I love you, Moira." He got down on one knee and held it out. "Marry me."

She snorted. "Yer must be jokin'," she shouted. "Yer messed with ... her."

"I've been waitin'," he told her. "For weeks. I'll ne'er do anythin' like that again."

Moira gasped and bit her lip, shaking her head. "Anyone but ... her." She watched Quentin get up and wipe a tear from his eye before turning to see her father approach the door. "Ga inside," he barked at his eldest daughter, and she looked at her ex-boyfriend and her father and nodded; she knew better than to disobey him. She looked at the apologetic face of Quentin and backed away.

"Moira," he cried. "Ahh Moira, I wanna talk. Don't go."

"Go," Iain shouted as his daughter hesitated and he closed the door behind her. "If I ever see you at this how-se aga'n I'll skelp you into next week, ya hear me?"

"But..."

"But you leave mi gals alone. Yer cannae mess wi' them. Yer done enough damage."

Moira listened from behind the door, not wanting to peer from the window in case she was seen by her father. "Ah love Moira. I cannae..." His assertions were interrupted by a thump and a cry.

"Yer leave mi gals alone," he shouted, and Moira retreated to the kitchen staring at the ground. She took a deep breath, tapped the side of the table and lurched to her right, smacking her fist into the face of her sister.

"'e was going to marry me," Moira cried loudly. "Yer spoilt it, like yer spoil everythin'." Abigail cried out and pushed Moira away, but the elder girl wasn't sat down and had the leverage to hit and punch her defenceless sister.

Abigail did her best to slide off of the chair, putting her hands, arms or table between her and the blows that were raining down upon her from above but Moira was determined. Iain pulled Moira off of her as he returned to the room and shouted at his daughter, but Moira ran away and up the stairs to her room.

Shona comforted Abigail. "She doesn't deserve this," Shona claimed. "Yer need to sort her out." Abigail rubbed her face and shook her head; she wasn't badly hurt with the exception of a few bruises that were forming.

"Margaret has a flat in the town. Says I can rent it from her."

"Oh no," Shona cried. "T'is ain't splittin' up me family."

"I'm goin' Ma," Abigail told her quietly. "S'for the best."

Iain cleared his throat. "Yer too young."

Abigail bit her lip. "I'm not. And I can't stay here." Iain looked at his wife, and Abigail hummed. "Is'nae fair on Moira, or me. I'll only be down t' road," she told her parents, still staring at the table. "But I can't stay here."

"Yer..."

"Dad was sixteen when 'e moved out. Ah want to stay there."

"But not that flat," she cried. Abigail's expression changed, and Shona implored her husband who looked at his daughter.