April 65

Now the time has come to meet Jim my normally sure-footed step, falters and leaves me.

I become slow. Perhaps comparison to one of them sloth creatures would be just the ticket in this circumstance. My fingers flex rapidly against the webbing straps of my duffle gripped in my right hand and the leather belt of my swag, of my left. Suddenly turning and fleeing seem far easier than facing the unknown and that isn't me. That never was me.

Adventure was, and still should, be my middle name. Excitement should eclipse trepidation. But it doesn't, I am normal, after all; Insecure and needy in my own peculiar way. These strangers are all that is left of - me. All that is left of my family. All that stands in the path of total god-awful loneliness.

And it's a different beast the loneliness of not being connected or tethered to the responsibility of loving a family or relative to the loneliness while droving, miles between towns or the loneliness of nightfall; while star gazing beside a campfire, downing a beer and contemplating the meaning of life.

Working or dreaming of what ifs while 'alone' is an entirely different kettle of fish to the loneliness of being untethered, detached and devoid of the love of family.

I don't want that loneliness; The loneliness of no family.

My fingers cease flexing in agitation. Instead they hitch up my load; and I lift my chin...to seek out my new family.

"There she is!!"

I gathered this is Michael... before anyone tells me so.

The way younger than me boy- man streaked across the now empty expanse of space with a big wonderful smile on his dial had me opening my eyes wide... Jim wanders up slowly behind, his face stoic. Yet when his eyes meet mine, he softens and looks sweeter, although a tad melancholy.

"Theresa. Theresa Mohin? That is you isn't it?"

I nodded my head slowly as Michael opened his arms wide.

"I knew it!"

Was I supposed to just fall into his embrace...? He was lovely though. So happy and open....

Biting my lip, I paused a step or two from Michael and his face tumbled. Jim's hand, at that same moment, landed on Michaels shoulder to hold his son back from his excited puppy-like onslaught.

His son...

My brother.

I dropped the duffle and swag and stepped into whatever Michael was offering. I would take it all. His face lit up and he was, once more, beaming away. I was enveloped in warm arms, his fingers wrapped tight around me; and I was squeezed. Oddly I felt fragile, small in his embrace. Younger than him even.

"Michael" Where is my voice? So soft I whispered his name. Over his shoulder Jim stood watching, his face covered in all sorts of emotion- fear, fretful worry, joy. I even spy a sliver of pride.

"Yes sister, I'm Michael, your brother" Michael whispered reverently back in his lovely accent. He then turned both of us around to face Jim "I have a sister" Michael stated. Happiness and pride laced his voice as his fingers remained and set out to maintain, a comforting squeeze, upon my shoulders. Michael beckoned his dad- Jim over "Dad look- Theresa...Can you believe?! She's finally here"

Jim nodded and every single movement, and moment, slowed. My hands lay frozen by my sides. I stood rigid and fearful of what was to come. Jim wasn't much better than my awkward self but Michael... Michael was unperturbed and seemed instinctively to know what was what and pressed me forward. Urged me closer to a man I knew, and didn't know, all at the same time.

Jim's eyes scooted over every inch of me, taking my face in and finally.... he stilled and held my gaze. And I, his.

My body was shaking inside and out.

Michael pressed my shoulder once more.

I was now within arm's reach of Jim and still, I couldn't make a coherent sentence leave my lips.

"I've been waiting a long time for this day..." Jims glassy eyes held many dreams and tears, weighty and unshed...

I nodded, tempering the saltwater from falling from my own eyes and nodded once more in emphatic agreement to his exclamation.

My nods continued on. I couldn't seem to stop them.

Suddenly I was shaking my head like I was deranged.

I nodded my agreement to him, to us, to everything.

I nodded because my voice was mute.

I nodded because I was scared and excited and unbelieving at this moment being here.

The nods grew wilder until his hand held mine and those nods abated, just barely a smidge.

The nods still ruled my body until he pulled me closer;

Those pesty nods then settled a mite more.

The nods only ceased finally when he tugged me into his warm, gentle embrace.

And it was then I realised...

We. Were. Together...

Finally, after all these years and all these miles; together.

My legs trembled.

An overpowering need to release a sob like a baby was festering and brewing inside. I held the tears gallantly and squeezed him tight instead. Squeezed him ever so tight; like I was thanking him, and giving him every morsel of me, that I couldn't give him over the last umpteen years, right here, right now.

Jim pulled back and held me out at arms-length from his body, fingers soft and gentle on my skin. He held me there, gazing deeply. Then eyes, so like mine, were roving, scanning over my facial features carefully. Tracking over what he saw there of himself and Mary and, I imagine, seeing the adult that Mum and Dad had set sail into the world.

Jim grinned a somewhat shy but lovely sweet grin and uttered the most wonderful sentence I think I had ever heard.

"Welcome home darling girl"

I wept.

****

"Let's get your luggage situated in the motor, dear" Jim attempted to pick up the duffle bag from the shiny floor of the airport visa office. I will say, in his defense, it was pretty darn heavy, it had weighed heavy on my shoulder. He grimaced and looked at me a little more closely "However do you carry that lot!? Michael have a feel of the weight, pick that up son"

Michael, went for the lift and snatch thinking it was heavy but not overly so. His hand tugging to lift a light-ish item but being stopped by a fairly decent, dead weight. He recalculated the load, shifted it in his hands and marched off ahead of Jim and myself. I giggled as Michael shifted the bag, on occasion, from limb to limb.

Outside, our little party of three reached a shiny black car and Michael grunted as he lifted my duffle and swung it safely in boot. My swag dropped in beside it. Jim raised an eyebrow in amusement as Michael rubbed his hands in relief. I covered my mouth to hide my grin.

"We still going to Paul's even though he's just got home da?" Mike regarded his father with a slightly contained look. I couldn't read between the lines, he smiled quickly in my direction and I forgot all about his previous expression.

His smile was like a rainbow of happiness it was. Wide and open and yes, beautiful.

With streets covered in showered puddles I was taken into a new unknown dark world. The evening pressed close as my new-found family drove along.

Questions were fleeting, spread between silence and bumps in the pavement.

My answers halting and sparse from my unsure place in their world.

The questions asked were of little value but I guess we were all testing the waters inside our fledging bubble.

How was the flight? Did you sleep at all? We're the meals nice?

Alright, yes and no... And they were tiny, and tasted like cardboard. Polite laughter and semi- comfortable silence ensued.

The city rose and fell around us. A man-made world, most of what I could see, asphalt and brick... And this is another point where I was, once again, afraid.

Afraid of how close everything pressed in on me. The plane had been eye opening and exciting but equally horrid and excruciating for not giving me a viable exit. Well... an exit I could use to escape claustrophobia and endless skies.

I need space to collect my thoughts. I could feel fear of the great unknown in my bones; in my blood.

Pulling up to an unremarkable green timber gate with females milling around Michael, 'Mike' as he mentioned he liked to be called, opened his driver's side window and pressed a round black button that was lit by a small bulb. A small speaker box was beneath the button and the lot was surrounded by messy handwriting.

"Go away girls. We just got home and don't need this ruckus right now" An unknown male voice grumbled out of the speaker box and tumbled into the vehicle. Michael turned about and looked quite apologetically at me over his shoulder then grinned cheekily and turned to the speaker again.

"It's me and da, Sparkles. Open up... the natives are getting restless out here"

"I said you are to never call me that! How many bloody times....Sod it" The same male voice, rose in volume as he retorted quick smart back. Michael cackled happily.

Girls swarmed and I discovered that they were who Michael classed as the 'natives'.

Female anatomy pressed against the car causing Jim to frown and tut. Conversely Michael offered them a charming flirty grin... Although, that didn't stop him leaning on the car horn three times. Everyone inside and out, jumped! I know I did, and the girls with pretty features, bundled in bright yellow raincoats with dresses somewhat hidden beneath, scattered backwards. All of them were still gawking and ogling the contents of the car though.

"Who are they all?"

"You got my parcel? And the letter regarding the tour?" With a frown, Jim glanced back over the seat as I sat ogling the girls crowding the car again. Turning about Jim scowled at the still quite firmly shut gate "Where is that boy...?"

"Well yes but I haven't listened to it yet. I assumed it had all blown over" I answered as Jim waved at the girls to get back from the car. I was rewarded a cracker of a grin at my words.

"Why didn't you listen to the album?" Michael bit a laugh back too. With eyes shining he turned to look at me in the semi darkness.

"My needle broke last July" with nary a thought and a shrug of shoulders I returned to look at the flock of 'pigeons' "So... they all just stand out there, waiting?"

"Pretty much"

"Disgraceful... where-ever are their parents? Letting teenage girls out at all hours of the evening" Jim grumbled.

"Most are all woman, Da"

"And you know this how, young man?"

"Come on Da there's a ready and willing lady for a date every single day, and night, outside of his front door. I'm going to get lucky, I mean a date, if I smile and lay on the charm"

"Respect Michael" Jim leaned over Michael, forehead wrinkled in annoyance. The gate was still bolted to us. Who was this boy to have girls milling about like chickens after bread-crumbs. Jim pressed that particular button rather roughly once more "Right now, son!"

The bolt slid slowly. I could hear the metal scuff the mechanism as it moved.

A large shadowy figure stood as if to guard as Michael drove by, into a courtyard area. A few cars were already settled into the tiny space between the gate and pretty white house. Lights blazed through upstairs windows; curtains covered the glass lightly. The ground floor however was muted and dark, the drapes here were drawn, heavier, I had no doubt.

"Mister McCartney, nice to see you. Mike."

"Hi ya, Mal" Mike hopped out as I sat still as a post in my seat. My eyes taking in everything I could before I had to encounter another soul.

"Malcolm" Jim turned to watch me for micro seconds then smiled encouragingly. I returned his smile with a tiny one of my own. My fingers clasped the inside door handle as Jim attempted to open it for me. Was this man, stood beside Jim - him? Was I mistaken at the airport? No, he wasn't on the picture I had nor called Malcom. I channelled Daddy, remembering something he said when I stood unwittingly in the path of a brown snake 'Breathe girl, relax, it will be alright. Everything will be grand'.

The door crept open and Jim nodded encouragingly as this large Malcolm fella smiled a happy greeting down into the car at me. "Malcolm, this is Theresa"

"Hello Theresa. Call me Mal"

"Gidday Mal"

"Gidday! Oh lovely, an Aussie. Had a great time in Australia last year"

My smile widened and energy soared as Malcom offered his hand. He had a good grip, a man's grip yet gentle. I felt trust and kindness in his hand as it enveloped mine. "I sure hope so. It's a great place"

"I loved patting the kangaroos"

I stifled a laugh "Patting the roos? Really?!"

"At the zoo in Sydney. Cute little fellas they were too. Did I tell you Mike.. one started to-"

"Maybe we best be getting Theresa inside and you two can chat later... about those roos" Jim pressed my shoulder with a warm hand, gently propelling me toward the front door. It had similar bottle green paint as the gate by the looks of things.

"I'll enjoy immensely Mal telling me about the petting zoo" My feet slowed. Why did Jim have to press a button to open his own gate. I knew the answer was a categorical no but I still had to ask "This isn't your house Jim, is it?"

I was confused, I knew it wasn't Jim's house. He lived in Wizzle or Wirral or some other funny sounding place starting with the letter W; And that home wasn't located in London. We were definitely still on London I was sure of it as I had seen a sign stating City of London a block or two back... Well maybe a few clicks back but I did see a sign. My feet and arms felt stiff as I came to the realisation I was being led into my other brother's home.

"Was Paul expecting you Mister McCartney? He never mentioned-"

"He never mentions. He never replies. Of course he wasn't expecting us. He has been ignoring my messages since the beginning of last month..." Jim frowned. He frowns a lot about Paul. The ladies at the gate. The never replying... and the never mentioning.

My lingering doubt about people knowing or not knowing rose in my chest and my mouth went dry. My stupid eyes began straining and quickly became frantic like the rest of me. I don't know why or how or the because, but I felt like a cornered bloody kangaroo. And no! I didn't need petting!

"He doesn't know!? About me!?" I felt two foot small and as young and insecure too. Where was my mettle, my backbone? Why was this all so difficult to process.

"It's alright dear. He has been told. It's just he is having trouble understanding it all"

"It means, Theresa, he's being typical bloody Paulie. Only interested in himself, the band, his hof. and his wom-"

"That will do Michael! Let's stop that nonsense and get Theresa settled"

It was like a train station, bodies were flittering to and fro.

Men in suits. Men in loud gaudy shirts. Men with long hair that needed a bloody good trim. Men kissing women in corners. Men tipping drinks to their lips.

Women were everywhere. Ever so pretty women. Petite women. Tall women. Buxton women. All with short skirts, or dresses that showed off half their backsides; well, showed a good deal thigh anyway. Hair piled high. Hair in short cuts like pixies. Hair down to bums. Eyes painted with dark lines and lips so red they jumped off their faces.

And there I stood.

In my moleskin pants, my good 'going to town' Sunday best blue and white check shirt and my Akubra stuck on my head. I looked about like an emu that had just scented a dingo. Eyes beady and sticking half outta me head and neck craning for the first glimpse. But there were no dingos here only men in suits, all in various stages of undress- no jacket, no tie, cuffs rolled up lily white forearms and women hanging off the lot of 'em. All so beautiful it was like some sort of cinematic movie set.

"Hello darrrrlinnn" Was uttered in my ear. Scotch laced breath was breathed all over me. The scotch in his hand swirled in an eddy as he lurched. His eyes popped wide open. His height- weight advantage had him bearing down on me and my 'fish out of a billabong' self.

The best way to disarm a drunk is to be disarmingly polite or just punch them in the gob. One or the other. Bit messy the second way what with teeth flying about and the drop or two of blood hurtling left and right but it did put the brakes on randy drunks that's for sure. Suppose I could just knee him in the nuts too but I wasn't feeling either tonight so went for being my charming self. I tipped my hat, stepping back as I did so.

"Arrr gidday mate, looks like a flamin' good shindig you've got going here"

Jim came out of nowhere and ferried me speedily away from the well intoxicated fella, with all his teeth intact might I add. I found myself clunking up narrow stairs, pulled after Jim like I was a naughty toddler off to early 'nigh nigh's.

I guess it was a protective sort of thing to do. Me, stood there like a freak storm was about to bear down on us, mustn't of helped. I'll have to curb the 'whoa there fella, step back if you want to keep your face intact' look from my dial 'til I get a grip on London and all her inhabitants at least.

"Bloody hanger on-ers" was muttered and I wondered if it was me or those folk downstairs that had him in a tizz. Jim turned at the top of the staircase and it was only then that I realised Mike was stood hovering close; one step below me. "Sorry dear, most of those people are strangers to me and to Paul more than likely. He opens this place up like a grocery store on Sunday... for all to ogle and wonder what they can pilfer"

"They flog his stuff! Shit that's pretty rough!" With a scowl I tipped my hat back and scratched my crown wondering why a fella would let some strange clowns in his house then realised... "Arrr sorry Mister..I mean Jim... I... Uncle?.... Shit! Aww I did it again! Sorry! I shouldn't say that kinda stuff in front of a gentleman I'm so slack"

"I understand dear. But do try not to cuss now..." Michael giggled behind his hand and Jim set his jaw to scowl and attempted to ignore Michaels noises "Well not all of them steal I suppose but some of the wandering gypsy types they encounter follow the lads all over. They have no business being in a private residence. Michael! Stop giggling"

"Sorry Da, it's pretty funny though"

"Try not to cuss around your younger siblings dear"

Michael laughed even harder, bending over at his middle, a big hand sprawled over my back as he tried to keep upright.

"Siblings" I patted Michael to settle him a tad and watched Jim watch me stumble over myself with the same query as before "Jim, ahh uncle... what do I call you?!"

Jim turned all his focus on me, laying his warm hand on my shoulder. His fingers were nice and gently pressing assurance as my lips ran off a mile a minute

"This is so contorted and strange. It's night! It's supposed to be day, you know! I'm stood here in me riding gear and all them sheilas down there are dolled up like, like... like dolls! Paul doesn't know-"

"He knows"

"You said he- What did ya Da say about him, Michael?"

"Da said 'Paulies been ignoring messages'-"

"Michael hush!"

"Ignoring this!? The idea of Me. Ignoring you since you knew about me and dad and mum!? God I'm in his house and he doesn't like the news, does he!?!"

No one would speak up and answer me, not even Michael. Michael, who I already knew was the life of the party, went quiet. "He doesn't want me here, does he!?" The stairwell contracted like my thoughts, everything narrowed around me.

Why was I here?! On the other side of the world, in a place that doesn't want me and more than likely doesn't need me!? Why!? I spun about to head for the front door "...Does he?!"

"Shush luv, up to the room and we'll get you settled, quick smart"

"I'll go to a hotel or camp out in a park or something. Give me that duffle. Where's me swag Michael?!"

"It's in the spare room already and you'll not be camping in a park on your first night in London!" Michael grasped my hand as he moved up and by me. I was pulled further into the bowels of Pauls home "Come on Terri, third door on the right luv. Da- go fetch Theresa a cuppa. Do you drink tea? On second thoughts scotch might be better dad. Scotch luv?"

"Scotch- make it a triple" I hit my stride, making my way into the little room as Jim stood frowning at this absolute dingo turd of a mess I was making by being here. Stuff it. "Better just bring the bottle and a cup of black tea"

"Michael be a lad and go fetc-"

"Da let me sort Theresa. I want to help her settle in, ok?" Michael grinned devilishly handsome at both me and his upset father.

Jim nodded reluctantly conceding defeat at the sight of Michaels grin. "Alright, I'll be back in a jiffy" Jim wandered back down the stairs, shoulders hunched. All because of me.

"Terri it's ok. Come on, get them boots off luv"

"You're very bossy for a little brother" We smiled and I realised it was my first smile since entering the house and it was all down to Michael. He was a darling... Bossy, but a darling nonetheless.

"Sit"

"Yes sir!"

"Cheeky. Now sit there and I'll get these bloody boots of yours off. I can see you're tired" He tugged at my boot... Rather slackly may I add.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you"

"Why ever not" Michael tugged once more, a little harder, nothing happened.

"Arrrr Michael , maybe leave 'em be.."

He tugged again, harder this time and the boot suddenly gave way. Michael fell back on his bottom and the boot landed on the hardwood floor behind him. My sock might as well have sung yippee! It now had all the air it needed to stink. "Geezus, your feet stink something putrid. I thought girls were supposed to smell like flowers and candy. You smell like a lorry ran over a cat a year ago then an air hose was shoved up its butt, then finally... someone popped it with a pin"

"Lovely, a balloon cat. Thanks. You were the one that pulled the boot off, remember!"

Hiccupping a laugh Michael stood and watched, with nose crinkled in trepidation, as I dragged the other boot off. My socks slivered off my toes. As I went to ditch my socks, I decided to throw them at Michaels noggin. Needless to say he scurried away to the hallway like a rat faced with a cat and no escape. "The shower is across the hal-"

"Shower!!! Did you say shower Mikey!?! Really, a shower!?!" His nodding head was all I needed, I ran into the bathroom and shut the door, only to open it immediately after. "Towel, clothe-"

"Towels are under the sink and clothes.... You can just dash back across to your room after them. Ok?" He grinned so nice... And he was me brother. A real brother! Two... brothers.

I wonder what Paul will be like? I wonder if he will just go to jelly upon laying his eyes on me? I wonder if he will accept me and my Aussie mannerisms...Oh bother, forget the unknown brother for a mo and have a bloody decent long shower!

"Sure! See ya!" I yelled as he began laughing at the elation that was bubbling over. My excitement covered my face. I was all giddy to be having a shower!

A shower!

A real shower!

Oh, my goodness... Hot water.

Hot, hot water!

It was beautiful and this hot water didn't even stink like the hot water in town. That town water was from the local council bore and the sulphur content made it smell like rotten eggs- ugh. You never actually smelt like it afterwards but all the while you showered you felt like vomiting.

I did once. Mum made me clean it up too.

Said I had to start cleaning my own business, and I did. Well I did try.... She stood over me. She let a giggle escape every now and then, as I dry heaved and sweated my way through the disgusting task. I was ten or so and I think she felt bad cause she shoo'd me away after a time. Then it was a role reversal- me stood over her, watching her hands, and cleaning implements, sweep and swipe my muck away. She never moaned or groaned, not once. No, not a sound was made and it was nasty and smelly and mine.... gee she was a good mum.... I knelt down beside her after a few guilty heartbeats... and always helped and cleaned up for myself after that day.

Ohhhh glory be, scented soap! Mmmm lavender, and it foams like the clappers too. Lovely... ahhhh, so nice. The water fluttered for a moment or two then settled back into a wonderous stream of bliss... like my own hot splendid waterfall.

I stood under that heavy spray for an age and a day it seemed. Washing the miles, red dirt and Australia from my body. It would always be there, and I likely had a bit of dirt under me fingernails still but it felt sad and exciting all at once. Washing everything I knew down the drain and leaving a clean slate to soak up all of England. 'Cause I did want to see what was here, while I was here. Brilliant castles and the Queen. Maybe mister hot stuff sparkles might know her personally?

Maybeeee.. she was down stairs this very minute while I was drowning under a river of lavender scented water in the shower!

Jumping out after turning off the taps I collected a fluffy towel for my hair and another for my body. Maybe the scotch was sat on the bedside table and I could have a couple of belts in peace and quiet before Jim came back and made me take another gander back downstairs... I should wear something good. But what!? The last dress I owned was back when I was thirteen and I didn't have boobs then. I left it in my wardrobe on the farm. Oh well second-best shirt it will have to be.

Open the door, check out the hallway.

Oh Looky! More stairs to another level- fancy!

No Jim.

No Michael.

All clear...

Yes! I made it easily to the room without falling embarrassingly over a new brother or biological father!

" 'Allo"

"Ello"

"Hel-lo!"

Three long haired suited fellas in assorted degrees of undress sat on me bed chorusing greetings and looking me up and down.

One had his jacket on but top shirt button undone.

One had his shirt on, no jacket and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows....

And the last one had his jacket off, shirt unbuttoned at the top, pulled out of his trousers at the bottom, plus his tie was really loose and as askew as a pigs tail.

"Bloody dingos nuts! Who the hell are you and why are you in hot shots spare bedroom" I don't know where the name sprang from but it sounded really awesome for a brother so I'm gonna stick with it!

I stuck my Akubra on my head because I felt naked and reached past the blue eyed fellow to grab me duffle bag. Holding the towel, I glanced up at the trio of men folk and felt a little shiver go down my spine. "Shut the window will you, darl"

"Names John... and you are?"

"Cold. Shut the window John"

"I'm George and this here is Richy. Are you the phantom sister that Paulie doesn't believe in?" Wiggling fingers like he was telling a spooky story, the one named George, grinned.

Pointing at George I had a brain attack "Hey! You're on my record thingo that Jim sent over!" I turned to the slow window closer "Are you on it too?" The slow window closer finally closed the window so I better call him John now, I guess. He was sticking his lips out like a duck and held himself with a slight grumbly face for a moment or two.

"Yes indeed. I would be on the LP thingo Jimbo sent over." Skirting around me he leant against the door jam looking totally relaxed. The door was closed because I didn't need visitors whilst dressing.... Well then... that was a waste of time, wasn't it!

The one named 'John' smirked, probably because I just slugged back a god-awful glass of something mixed with what could have been good scotch! "Coke luv. Scotch and coke"

"Scotch and cow pee you mean. Why'd ya wreck good liquor!?"

"Ohhhh, I like her!" Blue eyes grinned up at me.

Standing towel to toe with slow window closer John was quite fun. Just his facial expressions told me he was a true wack job. My kinda people. "What has he said?"

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb. Mister hot shot, that's who"

"You've nicknamed already, well done" John crossed his arms in front of himself and if I do say so myself, he is a handsome devil. Strong facial features and carries himself like he couldn't give a jack about anything or anyone. That there, is really... really nice on a man. Take charge, make everything come to him. I like that. "He... I shouldn't... Nah. I shouldn't tell you...... Do you have a whip in your carry on?"

"A big long one"

"Geezus, Pauls in trouble"

"I don't use it on blokes unless they start being drongos or derros or both in some cases"

"He's definitely both" George smiled a mile wide, oh he was gorgeous. I took a load off and sat down beside him. "Aren't you dry by now?"

"Pardon?"

"Dry... you know towelling off does that to a person" My GG (Gorgeous George) fella nodded toward my unmentionables.

Gorgeous George flat out stared me down as I kept towelling everything that had needed towelling, without letting three fellas see what was being towelled.

It's a gift you know. From being on the land. Droving, camping out. Fellas eyes pop out if you let something poke out or fall out whilst bare under towels. So ya gotta be covert, ya know.

"Hand me, me bloomers then"

"Pardon?"

"What?" This lingo of theirs is extremely difficult to grasp.

"Bloomers.. she means knickers Geo.. Shift over let me have a gander" John fumbled in my duffle bag as I popped my Akubra on Richy's head and dried my hair with the second towel "Bloody hell George you'll have to get your bird to take this bird out shopping" John held up my best pair... thankfully. "Could make a good winter coat with these"

"They aren't that bad..."

"They are, you know. Take them down the street and run them up the Palaces flagpole. The Queen wouldn't notice the difference between them and her flag"

I shimmied them on under my towel as George sat staring at my legs. I should kick them out but come on these three long haired fellas were being very nice! I couldn't kick them out, could I. That would be very impolite of me, especially as it is my first day in the country.

"Here's your sling shot luv"

"Ta. You're very good at valeting. Ever considered the job?" I enquired of John as he poked about in my duffle bag. He was nosey but he was handsome so he can look in my duffle... as opposed to those rude old blighters at the airport.

"I did. But once they realise I was nicking their knickers left and right.." He frowned then sighed heavily with the sadness of being unemployed "... I would have been turfed"

"That's a shame. And such a well-paying job too more than likely"

"Yes, be a darn cite better than my current employment AND I only see other fellow's boxer shorts presently. Not one pair of lacey knickers amongst the lot of them, mores the pity"

I cackled; he was so funny. George was still watching me in silence as I clipped my bra at the front over my towel and started swivelling it toward the back.

"Oh! Allow me" Richy skimmed fingers round and under to pull the horrid contraption to the rear.

"Do all the girls wear bras over here? Can't stand the things myself but I said to myself Theresa... you're going to the city now... best be civilised and cover your tits"

George spat his cigarette out of his mouth and it flew across the room toward my boots.

"You better grab that quick smart I don't know what would happen if my foot odour came in contact with naked flame"

"Fucking hell, I luv her" Richy muttered as he helped me thread my arms through the holes of my brassiere.

"Is Richy short for Richard? Can I call you Dick?"

"You can call me whatever your heart desires, Theresa"

"Ohhh lovely, ta. Be a chump and hang my towel on the hook beside John there" What!?! Geez, I need to put my shirt on, and my trousers. I'm not sitting in a cold room all night and freezing me nuts off just because I have visitors, now am I.

'Lads!' was spoken in the hallway.

'Lads?' was yelled at a higher octave.

"That'll be hot shot luv" The one called John informed me overly loudly.

'John, I said not to come up here' Hot shot yelled as he banged on the door. The knock was a rather lacklustre affair; two soft knocks, a little harder one and three tiny ones. The door knob then jiggled.

I probably shouldn't call him Hot Shot, should I. It's not a great way to start a sibling relationship. Although I would have bitten him once or twice if I had been his older sister living with Jim and mother Mary. I may have dacked him a couple of times too, just because it would have been funny to dack a younger brother. Doubt I can dack him now, at our age... Probably get carted away by a copper.

"Open it" I nodded to John. Best get this show on the road. Meet my younger sibling. Let him get an eyeful of me.

"But you're not dressed!"

"He's my bro-ther"

"And we are his mates in a room with his maybe sister in her underwear"

I lifted my second-best check shirt out of the top of the duffle, sniffed it, nodded and tugged it on "Shirt - there. On.... OK Mister Prude!?"

"Do it up!"

'What the hell are you lot doing in there!' sounded from the hallway.

"Open it"

"Buttons"

"I thought you were fun?!"

"I thought you wanted to survive at least twenty-four hours under Paulie's roof"

"Spoil sport" I did up said buttons "....There! Happy?!"

"Trousers"

"Give me the towel back you sissy"

"I adore you, luv. Can I kiss you?" Richard or Dick said. Quite like either name. "John did you hear her? ........ She called you a sissy!.... Love it is, I tell you!"

"I heard her Dick" John hissed out but the grin didn't abate. Actually, he seemed more like a proud father at that moment. Finally, he through the door open.

Paul fell in said door.

His face twisted as he looked up at me sat on the bed, leaning back on elbows to do the damn zipper up. What!? They were tight, ok! Good tucker on those transatlantic flights. George had snatched and offered me the moleskins from my dirty pile so they were a bit rank, not too bad though, considering bad rank was when I had to muck the cow poo out of the stall after we milked Daisy the Jersey. Or during, if Daddy decided he didn't want to chance the half wild beast lifting a coated foot and slamming it down into the milk we had collected thus far.

Cows have the worst excrement. Watery and stinkin' I hate mucking out after cows-

"Get out!"

"Who - me?"

"No, not you. I have to put up with you. Them three. John, George, Ringo- out!"

"We were just chatting" John patted my shoulder as I grunted and did up my top button of my pants.

"She's pulling her pants on John. I don't want to know what was going on in here"

"She's really nice"

"Very nice legs"

"Thanks George!"

"You're very welcome"

"I helped with her bra-"

"Ringo!"

"Who's Ringo? Sounds like the possum I tamed and it decided to live in the chook house, he was the cutest little thing...until the carpet snake got hungry..."

"Cute, like me, my luv?"

"Cute, like you Dick"

"Did I mention I love you Theresa-"

"Out!!"

"Keep your trousers on Paulie"

"Out!"

"Alright, alright. Go easy on her Paulie"

"Don't call me Paulie"

"Theresa, twas lovely to meet you... Malcolm!!! Mal!" John hollered after the big fella "Are you still here?" He yelled louder "Oh there you are, bloody good show. Take us home old chap!"

"Just wanted to let Theresa and Paul know that Mike took Jimbo home so the two of you could get acquainted. Isn't that lovely"

"What! No! Da was supposed to take her!" Paul isn't happy to see me. Maybe my pants stink too much for him to bear.

"My name is Theresa not her"

"Shush!"

"Don't you shush me!"

"Let me think.... Mal can you take this person to Da's, there's a good lad"

"My names-"

"Shush-"

"I'll give you shush!-"

"Theresa- no" John shook his head as I went to lunge at the grumpy bugger stood with crossed arms slap bang centre of his pretty, but awfully crowded, guest bedroom.

"Mal is taking us home" John declared after rolling his eyeballs at the chaotic bedroom scene.

"Good, take her with you"

"Paul!" George yelped. He grinned at me though. He is so gorgeous.

"She's not supposed to be here, take her to Da's Mal"

"Sorry Paul, no can do. Your father promised to make his scrumptious super moist fruit cake for me"

"Well I pay you!"

"I already get paid"

"I'll sack you then!"

"I work for NEMS...."

"Argghhh I give up, just go!!!!!!!!!!!! Take those three stooges with you!"

"Nyuk Nyuk Nyuk!... See ya Theresa" John tried to pull Pauls nose but Paul slapped him away.

"Oh! I get it the Three Stooges! Ooroo Sissy John"

"Oi! John would be preferable lass. Anyway, Bye, bye, my luv"

"Bye, bye, blue eyes"

"Bye Theresa my luv"

"Paul do you happen to have a packet of crisps for the ride home" George enquired. Pauls eyes narrowed and he shut down Georges request silently "No need to glare Paul. I'm pretty sure there are leftovers in a few of them fancy bowls downstairs anyway. I'll just take them..." George shook his head at how Paul was ignoring everybody and everything, bar me. With a little wave and smirky gorgeous grin, George started for the door "Cheerio Towelly! Sorry.. Terri!"

"Shut it and go home!!"

"See ya, luv. My numbers in his rolodex on the telephone table by the front door. It's in there under: Winston, Len, Johnny Silver, Johnny Moondog and Arsehole- Paul put it under 'arsehole' after he discovered the other entries. I rather think that he put it under A so it came up first" John pressed a sloppy kiss to Pauls cheek. Paul groaned loudly and rubbed his eyes "Come on men, let's leave the siblings to discover their sibling rivalry... Oh, would you look at that... Paul's already found it and slipped it on"

"Out!" Paul pointed toward the hallway, the melee of men only began hilariously turning all about and making a mockery of Pauls order. "Out!"

"Cheerio luv. OoooK!......... Let's make like snails and slide on out of here"

After a second chorus of good-byes, cheerio's and ta-rah's we were left in tense silence.

Paul, my brother, with hands shoved deep in his pockets, stood staring at my swag which threatened to topple off of the chair Mike had it perched on. I felt like I should start us off and say 'hello' but he had blustered all over the place when he fell in the room before and the waves of distrust surfed off him like an incoming tide. I don't even know what an ocean looks like! But the words seem fitting.

Jim and Mike, with whatever Jim's reasoning was, had abandoned us to this- Silence. The noise of all those suits and scarlet lipped women was in the past. The present was us- alone. We stood like prize fighters on opposite sides of the room....

And I watched him chew his lip, as I chewed worriedly on mine.

He was Mary and Jim all rolled into one. I noted the eyelashes so like mine. One of my defining features I had been told by a few of my entertainers, Jas being the last to mention them. I recall the words and feel of his skin, so clearly... His thumb grazing my lashes, wondering why they were so long and thick in compare to any other girl he had had the pleasure of thumbing lashes with before. Idiot. He said it too.. 'I've not had a girl with lashes like yours before'

What was the correct response to that?!

YAY!? Now, I know you've had a heap of shags prior?!

Like I said...he was an idiot.

I flopped on the bed. The transfer of my body across multiple time zones suddenly roaring toward me, lethargy and a degree of panic swelling inside. So tired, so scared of him...well not scared of him. Worried might be the better word. Worried what he was thinking, worried of his opinion of me, worried of his love or hate. His response to me as a person. All I can do is try.

His fingers clenched in his pockets as the swag finally slipped from the chair. A heavy thud sounded as it hit the floor.

"So.... You're my brother" I spoke carefully, smiling.

The door slammed shut and I was left alone.

Glossary

Dacked - as in pulled his trousers down!

Bore- water from under the ground drawn up by a pump or in remote areas by a windmill. And more recently I have seen bore pumps attached to solar panels to operate!

Nyuk Nyuk Nyuk! - Something the Three Stooges would say on their comedies.