There is nothing that can be done, the Doctor said...

Dressed in her black mourning outfit Lillias stood dangerously close to the edge. Moving her foot ever so slightly she saw the small pebbles tumbling into the grave. The wide brimmed hat and parasol were not offering her ashen face much protection from the scorching Western Australian summer sun. She felt light-headed and dizzy and thought it possible she might faint. Her hands were sweating profusely under the long dark gloves. Her breasts were still aching even though the milk was already starting to dry up. 

Salty tears were falling gently onto her laced bodice as Lillias recalled how it was nine years since she and her only brother William had stood at this exact same spot. Nine years ago they had buried their Mother. Lillias lamented how poor Ma had suffered so dreadfully since arriving in the Colony and how her once strong body had succumbed to the months of constant diarrhoea. There was nothing that could be done, the Doctor said. 

As Minister McCarlie spoke Lillias was brought back to the present. Just yesterday she was holding her poor wee bairn in her arms, a skeleton wrapped in skin, his tiny heart beating ever so faintly. The Doctor said the same thing, there is nothing that can be done. He had suffered the same as Mother. As baby Robert’s tiny coffin was slowly descending her brother holding her tightly whispered “Ma will take good care of him wee sister.”

Sources:

Isabella Bolton, 15 April 1897, Western Australia Death Certificate
Robert Wilson Jones, 5 January 1906, Western Australia Death Certificate
Image: SLWA 047508PD East Perth Cemetery East Perth Cemetery SLWA
East Perth Cemetery Records, www.eastperthcemeteries.com.au/explore/burial-search/burialsite/131072.html

Another 250 word creative non-fiction writing exercise. I think I'm progressing!