(Originally posted 29/03/14)
-OOO-
The funny thing is I've always wanted a big brother. Not in a "he can look after me" kind of way. More in a it-would-be-great-to-have-someone-to-blame sort of way.
Let me explain.
Being the eldest is great.
Really great.
No one messes with me.
What I say goes.
I win every argument.
The trouble is, when you've got such sweet sisters, it's a hollow victory at times.
Take Tegan (in my younger days I wished that someone literally would). She's a multi-coloured medicine ball of magic. Yes she will drive you to the end of the yellow brick road and back with all her craziness. Yes her constant (rather good, although I'd never admit it) singing will have you searching for her off-button. Yes her decision-making skills still need to be honed; but she's got a heart of gold (and a wallet full of wishful thinking). She'd give you her last Rolo.
Well, maybe her second-to-last.
She's got my back. I know that.
Then there's Perri. Bubbles I call her, she still doesn't understand why. When Disney needed a template for the perfect little sister, they came and took notes from her. She is bright as a button and keen as mustard. Miss Marple has nothing on her. She will look at things from all angles to solve a puzzle; and if she can't solve it, she knows a man who can. She'd hand over her pocket-money to pay a ransom for you.
She loves the bones of me. I know that.
You see what I'm up against. It's hard being a tyrant when your subjects are this loyal. That's why I always longed for a brother. I needed a different set of chromosomes to kick against.
Something opposite.
-O-
Be careful what you wish for.
He turned up.
Ste turned up.
Just like that.
Like a Mancunian cuckoo. All arms and legs, angles and dropped aitches. Dad and him had made contact.
Somehow.
So he was invited back for his tea….. and stayed.
He's the eldest now. I've been bumped off the winner's podium to silver medal position.
I'm not gonna lie, it actually stung a bit.
I didn't rush towards him with open arms, (I let the girls do that). Ironically, I wasn't keen.
There was something about him.
-O-
The trouble with having a brother (I can say this now) is that he's here.
Constantly.
He's now the first in the bathroom in the mornings (the perk of the first-born?).
He's sprawled across the sofa like he owns the place; and (this one really gets my goat) he's now in control of the remote.
Who the hell lets him stay?
-O-
He's nice too.
I can't bear it.
He genuinely seems to want to get to know all of us.
Intimately.
He's in your face,
(but in a caring way).
He gets under your skin. He's too close.
He's
brotherly.
-O-
He's got kids too.
(I'm an aunt thrice over).
They're really sweet. The girl Leah is sassy like me (a family trait?). The boy (Lucas) is blonder than blond, like Bubbles used to be. You can't help but love them.
(I'd like two just like them, one day).
What's weird is that when Lucas cries, he sounds just like Rosie - it's uncanny.
-O-
Being part of a practically all-girl household, (we joke that dad is an honorary girl) and having gone to a single-sex school, I've never really mixed with men.
Guys have always seemed strange.
Like a foreign country.
Part of the reason I became a female fire-fighter was (not just to kick ass) to sneak behind enemy lines and study the opposition.
It was an eye-opener.
Guys can be such pussies.
An education.
I'm used to it now. Used to the jokes.
Guys never grow up.
The leg-pulling. The slurs.
Guys can be such hard work.
They say, if you can't stand the heat get out of the kitchen. Well I'm here to stay. I was born to do this and no-one is going to stop me.
I'm here to help others; but who helps the helpers?
Don't get me wrong I'm not a troubled soul or anything like that. I've had love, care and support all my life.
Mum was always there for me. She's an amazing role-model, succeeding in a "man's world". She's tough and tender too.
Dad's a shining example of integrity and honesty as well. He's always had time for me.
I'd be the first thing they'd save, if the house was on fire. I know that.
It's just that…..
Sometimes it all gets a bit claustrophobic.
I feel the walls closing in.
Sometimes I just can't breathe.
Everyone's so nice I just want to scream.
I need to get away.
So I do.
I know it's not advisable. A woman alone.
Not sensible.
Not responsible; but sometimes you just have to do what feels right.
-O-
I'm lucky. I know that.
I can make friends easily (when I want to). I can walk into any bar or club and have them eating out of the palm of my hand. I'm the life and soul of the party.
Usually.
Random clubs and all-nighters are all well and good, but I've found myself a little bolt-hole now. More of a private members club. "Scarlett's"- a burlesque bar.
It's a little off the beaten track, which I like. It's down a different path.
I met one of the performers, Tracy at another venue. She dragged me back to her place, Scarlett's and I've been a regular ever since.
Every Tuesday.
I've even got my own table.
It's a great crowd. Authentic. I feel posher there. I even drink red wine, which Tracy introduced me to. I'm usually a lager lass.
I try to act like a grown-up there. Act myself; but I'm still a work in progress.
I'm not always alone. Sometimes I'll bring a friend.
He's normally a guy I've just picked up. We chat. We laugh. He buys the drinks, it's all good. I usually get him to sit at an angle, so he doesn't block the view of the stage completely.
Sometimes they will insist on talking during the performance.
Guys have no manners.
Where's their sense of occasion?
Take Darren Osborne for instance. We got our wires seriously crossed last week and I ended up bringing him here as compensation. I think he thought it was a date.
I'd been 'round to his to ask him for some advice and one thing led to another and we ended up coming here.
I was just being friendly. I'm like that. I talk myself into situations. I've got to stop it.
Ste came too for moral support.
My big brother and my man.
I must've looked greedy, being here with two men. I thought I'd make the most of it.
Push the boat out.
Get up close and personal.
I ordered Darren his very own lap dance; but he got really nervous and started shaking and spluttering. I said it was no big deal; it was all part of the service.
Guys just don't understand, it's just art.
He still backed out though. So I took it.
Waste not want not.
Darren just shook his head in disbelief. He thinks I'm shocking.
Some guys just don't get me.
It was odd though, I felt like I was being watched.
Scrutinised.
For the first time I felt nervous.
The evening unravelled after that. It went from bad to worse. Darren complained. The drinks were warm. The music was too loud and that I was mardy. Me! Mr Personality had been a pain in the bum all evening. Personally I think the sight of all that female flesh overwhelmed him 'cause he left pretty quickly, blushing like a schoolboy. Ste coped better which was surprising,
considering.
-O-
Let me explain.
The appearance of Ste has been surprising in more ways than one. He's got characteristics our family has never seen before.
He's male.
He's an ex-con.
He's gay.
I think the ex-con thing worries my parents the most.
He sees things differently.
He's lived things differently.
Or so they think.
I tried to stay away from him at first. Really I did. I didn't want his reputation ruining mine. He's too
dangerous.
Too obvious.
Too similar.
I couldn't be around someone who didn't feel the need to hide. Who didn't mask their feelings with absences and alcohol.
I couldn't be around someone who didn't feel shame.
You see it's not just our love of cheesy wotsits that binds us.
It's like I've been nibbling around the corners of the sandwich of my life and he's just come along and scoffed the good bit, the filling in the middle that I'd been carefully saving; and he doesn't even know it.
I've been pipped to the post once again by my longed for sibling.
Ste - the thunder-stealer.
How can I tell mum and dad now?
Hey umm have you got a minute? I've got something to tell you. I like girls not guys. Always have done.
Been there done that darling, now ssh we were listening to Ste.
It's enough to make a girl spit.
-O-
The funny thing is, we're beginning to get along now.
Me and Ste.
Quite well.
Really well in fact.
He feels like family, which I 'spose he is.
We've started to hang out. Just the two of us. Even when I'm not babysitting his kids. We're becoming,
friends.
I see him watching me. It's as though he's waiting on me.
Waiting for me to …relax?
Confess?
Trust?
I'm not really sure; but I feel like I'm walking down this corridor that only has one exit at the end. I can't stop and I can't turn around, and yet I'm not bothered.
I always thought that I was meant to be the torch-bearer for this family. I was the eldest. It was my role. Now I'm second-in-command, someone else has taken over the controls and now I feel like they're guiding me.
I'm not upset.
It might be just what I need. To follow in someone else's footsteps. To walk with my eyes shut for a while, arms outstretched, hopeful.
It'll be scary, I'll probably scream like a girl, but it'll be worth it I think.
So I'm going to do it. Take that leap of faith. I'll be alright, blood's thicker than water.
Ste's my brother, he's there for me. I know that now.
-O-
Comments are always appreciated.