I think I remember most of the day my sister was born. I remember it was sunny, I remember watching the morning cartoons with Tommy, as we ate toast and my mum was telling us not to make a mess, because she was tired and really wasn’t feeling like cleaning up after us.

I remember marching up and down the hallway, with Tommy in tow, counting paintings and posters and exercising my new found voice, as I had just started having singing as well as piano lessons.

I remember my mum helping my brother put his trainers on, and handing him a light jacket, as she told me she was feeling a little under the weather and was just hopping off to the doctor real quick. She told me to stay put, that I was a big girl. She told me she would call me as soon as she could. She told me not to go out and to not open the door, no matter who came knocking.

I think I blamed myself for many years, for not realising she wasn’t feeling well. I always blamed myself for so many things in my life… In my mind, it doesn’t matter if I was only seven years old. I always felt the need to be in charge of things, to be a responsible person.

I watched, through the kitchen window, as mum and Tommy hopped in a cab and drove away.

Daylight slipped away, the street lights came on. I raided the fridge for some yoghurt, as I was getting hungry. My last meal had been hours ago… How long ago had they left? I had no idea, as I had not been paying attention. I looked out the window again, weighing my options: I couldn’t go looking for them, because I had no idea where they had gone to, I had no money for the train to Somerset Hall… I was alone.

I opened mum’s phone directory and dialled dad’s number, waiting for what felt like forever for the international call to go through.

- Hello? - A sleepy voice answered, in Portuguese, from the other end of the line.

- Daddy, Mum went out with Tommy and she’s not back yet. She said she was going to the doctor.

My dad’s heart must have rushed to a panic – Ellie, darling. What… How long have they been gone?

- Maybe some hours. It’s dark, now. We had had lunch.

I could hear the alarm growing in his voice – Are you alone, darling?

- I am.

- Listen to me, Ellie: lock the door and don’t leave the house. I’m going to call your grandmother and I will try and find out where mummy and Tommy are, alright?

- Alright.

- Be a good girl, my dear. I love you and I will call you back.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

He wasn’t the one who called me back, but Mami did. She was just leaving Somerset Hall and she swore that she and Collins would fly to London to meet me.

- Go to bed – she said – It’s late and I will show myself in.

I don’t know what time it was when I woke up, but the bedroom was darkened by the blinds. I lifted my head and I saw Mami petting Tommy’s head, as he was asleep on the bed opposite to mine.

- Mami? - I called softly. She didn’t turn to me, just motioned for me to be quiet, not to wake Tommy up.

I slid down from my bed and walked the few steps that separated me from her.

- Mami, have you found mummy as well? - I whispered. In my mind, they could have ended up separated, who knew, it was a big city, after all.

- Your little sister was born – she whispered raggedly, still avoiding my eyes – She looks like an angel.

There was something wrong, I could tell, even in the dark.

- Is mummy alright?

Tommy shuddered in his sleep and Mami leaned down to kiss him. That small gesture seemed to have lasted an eternity.

- Lizzie… - her voice cracked – Mummy is not coming back, my love…

I don’t know how long it took me to process those words, but I know I could, all of a sudden, feel everything too much. The tag on my shirt, the way my pyjama trousers felt against my legs, the fuzzy carpet under my feet, the otherwise soft touch of my bangs, which now felt like sandpaper on my temples, the way my hair tie pulled the hair down, the air that passed through my nostrils, going in my lungs and all of me, just melting inside.

Mami said, later, that she had worried I showed no outward signs of distress, other than quickened breathing and rubbing my fingers. She tried to hug me, but I rejected her touch. I bolted out of the bedroom and ran to my mum’s room, slamming the door open and looking at the empty bed.

My grandmother followed me, but I don’t think she knew how to deal with any of this either.

I ran to mum’s office and then to the kitchen, starting to panic, until I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders and heard a – Stop! You need to stop. - Peter Collins, our butler’s son was looking me in the eyes as I was opening the floodgates and losing every thread of control.

- Come with me – he said, as he grabbed my hand and took me to the kitchen table. Peter was only 5 years older than I was, but he was my friend since I could remember. - You can cry, of course, but you have to be strong, too.

Mami was leaning into the doorway as this whole scene played in front of her. She was covering her mouth, trying not to cry and maybe thinking what would happen next in our lives. You can never prepare yourself for such cataclysmic events, no matter who you are, or what you have in life.

Peter grabbed a box of cereal, a bowl, some milk from the fridge, and handed me a spoon.

- Eat – he said, as he poured the milk over the cereal – Do it for Tommy and for your new sister.

I just put the spoon next to the bowl, not really able to see through the tears.

- My mum’s in Brighton. At the beach. - Peter said, as matter-of-factly as he could - That was her favourite place in the whole world. My dad says she’s in Heaven, but I know that’s not where she’d rather be. – he took a moment, for me to take a gasp for air - What was your mother’s favourite place?

- … It… Italy – my voice came out strained, amidst the sobbing.

- Then, Lady Elizabeth is in Italy.

I have no real memory of the next few days. I know my dad came by, as well as my grandmother Luísa, his mother. I know we stayed at Somerset Hall. And I know that Clara eventually came home, as well.

She truly was the most beautiful creature we had ever laid eyes on and, watching her sleep, in her cot, my brother and I forged a silent pact, in which we would protect that fragile, little baby with our lives, if it came to that.

We followed my mum’s coffin, from the town church to the family mausoleum and my brother and I saw them placing it in its neat little box, where she was to lay forever after, sealing it with a marble epitaph.

Elizabeth Jane Rose – 1961 – 1988

When I read those words, something finally gave in my mind and I felt the never-ending river of tears flowing.

- You are not alone – Mami said, as she kissed mine and my brother’s heads.

But I felt so. I felt as if we were hopelessly alone and lost in this world.