Chapter 8

"You clatty cow," Moira cried out as she burst into the room. Quentin stared at her and she pushed him off her sister, laying out in her bed. "Yer a clatty bitch. 'E's mine."

"Then fuck him," Abigail replied. "Yer just a frigid witch. Yer fuck things up for everyone." Moira grabbed Abigail's throat, and the younger girl kicked her sister away from her. "He just liked me better."

"No," Quentin muttered but neither sister was listening.

"'Cause I ain't fat like you." Abigail laughed at her, and wiped her hand on her loins before reaching up and smearing it over her sister's tearful face. "Taste him!" Moira pulled back, clenched her hand into a fist and smacked her sister in the eye as hard as she could.

Abigail cried out and she tripped over Quentin on the floor before looking at her sister. "I'll kill ya," Moira warned and turned her attentions to Quentin. Abigail pulled her clothes from the floor and frantically put her underwear, jeans and T-Shirt on as Moira screamed at her beau.

"Stop it!" Abigail cried, but Moira continued to rain blows down on her partner, telling him that they were finished. She turned to Abigail and grabbed hold of her hair, throwing her against the wall. Abigail managed to get her hands out, but still hit the wallpaper with a sickening crunch.

She turned around and faced her sister. "This was for getting me sacked," she yelled at her. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Moira wiped her eyes. "Ahh 'ate you." She looked down at Quentin and stared at him. "Ah 'ate you too."

Abigail shrugged and picked up her shoes, slamming the door to the shared bedroom as she went. She didn't want to be around Moira, and her Quentin any longer and she had certainly not intended to be caught by her sister during the act. She had hoped to cause confusion with Quentin – so that he came to demand sex from Moira, not cause conflict between Moira and herself.

Abigail had always found it hard to deal with her sister; Moira disliked her – as did her elder brother Graeme – and whenever she saw either of them there was a tension and angry dislike. It was a little irrational, but it Moira clearly felt the same, and although Abigail regretted the way she had used spiteful language against her, it clearly wasn't the worst thing that she had done that day.

She left her terraced house and ran down the road towards the little town she lived in. She wanted to escape, but she was a long way from being able to. She wondered about running off to Glasgow or Edinburgh to find some fortune among the bright lights. She looked behind her and saw the family car of Quentin shoot past her – he was alone – and she felt a little bit guilty.

She stopped and sat down by the side of the road, looking out over the river to think: she had certainly never wanted to break her sister's relationship and she knew her parents would be furious with her.

They would probably throw her out of the house, she was sure of that, and she became worried about where she would go. There was no room at Lisa's house, and she no longer had a boyfriend. She needed help and what she got was another blow to the side of the face, knocking her onto the ground.

Moira stood over her, glaring into her eyes and brought her foot up. "Stop," Abigail cried but only managed to get out of the way of the stomping foot by inches. "Stop it!"

"Ahh ... yer a dirty cow," Moira cried. "Ah dunnae want tae live wi' ya no more." Tears streaked down Abigail's face as she righted herself, slipping on the embankment.

"I'm sorry," Abigail shouted. "Ah was angry."

"Ah 'ate you. Ah ain't livin' wi' you no more," she shouted and Abigail scrambled away. Moira tried to give chase, but Abigail was thinner, quicker and fitter and she had soon put a couple of streets between herself and her incandescent sister.

Abigail panting, looked behind her and ran out into the road, wanting to get to the big house of her ex-boyfriend as soon as she could. She closed her eyes to wipe her left eye, full of tears, when she heard the screeching of a car coming towards her.