Usually on weekends mum never made an appearance at all, she’d remain in her room, probably passed out, and Sunday lunch for Mark and I would be soup and French-fries, his poor face so sad because he didn’t know how to cook a beef roast, or how to make a stew or casserole. Besides, we never had any fresh meat in the house; mum would go shopping and buy only frozen or tinned food, things she could dump in the pantry or the freezer; I’d forgotten what roast beef tasted like, it had been so long since I’d eaten it, and suddenly we’d be having roast beef with all the trimmings on Sundays.
Mark began to change. He grew taller, for starters, almost by the day. His face changed as well, his softly rounded boyish features slowly turning into angles and planes, cheekbones becoming more defined, and he started shaving regularly. He still looked after me on occasion, though; periodically mum would go on a jag, and I’d come home from school to find her home, passed out on the couch, a half-bottle of vodka on the table next to her; if she’d climbed on the wagon, she clearly wasn’t doing too much to stay there.
I changed as well, going through the expected changes as I moved out of my pre-teens and into adolescence, Mark bearing-up under my mood changes and temper tantrums, my changing moods a puzzle to me as well, until it was explained to us in Human Biology in school, things I should have learned from my mum, that all the other girls already knew, and I was appalled; it was going to be like this every month, 12 weeks a year, for the next 40 or so years? God really must be a man, there was no other explanation…
When I was 13, at an age where boys were of more than slight interest, the object of mine, and nearly every other girl in the school, was Jamie Morrison. He was the same age as Mark, and at 16, a real hottie. Nia was furious, and had several slanging matches with older girls who’d asked her for his number, as well as a few girls in our year who really should have known better. Nia went out of her way to make it abundantly clear that Jamie was strictly Off-Limits, Verboten, Ne Vous Approchez-pas, but we talked about him, of course, how could we not, he was sweetly gorgeous!
Shelagh even said something along the lines of “Well, I don’t care what Nia thinks, Jamie’s too cute to pass-up, one day I’m snagging him, and if I have to beat you lot off with a club to do it, I will, so hands off, he’s mine!”
Yep, until Nia finds out and hands you your ass, I thought…
One girl said something odd to me, though, which got me thinking.
“Look , it’s no use talking about Jamie Morrison, Nia’s obviously keeping him for herself, so do you have any objections if I call up your Mark, see if there’s any chance of a date there?” leered Charlotte Pryce.
I was caught a little off-guard, and said “Why would you ask him?”
She looked at me like I was simple. “Because he’s a babe, or hadn’t you noticed?”
To be honest, I hadn’t; Mark was Mark, the end. I’d never looked at him in that way before, why would I, he was my brother?
Charlotte spoke up again. “Look, Jules, Mark is dead cute, he’s tall, he’s blonde, he’s got big, grey, sexy eyes, and if I had the chance, I’d hang off his face for a while, and so would most of the girls here. You’re so lucky, your brother’s drop-dead gorgeous; my twerp brother looks like a ferret in a hedge! Are you really telling me you never noticed him, or even thought about giving him a snog, just to see? No? Girl, there’s no hope for you, the Nunnery beckons!”
I was more than a little intrigued. Mark? But then, when I looked at him in my mind’s eye, without the ‘big-brother’ filter on, I could see she was right. His golden hair, always falling down over one eye, and that unconscious gesture of his when he flicked it back out of the way, big, clear grey eyes, fair skin, his straight nose and killer cheekbones, his square jaw and even, white teeth, and of course his lovely, shy, vulnerable smile.
I had always thought, when I was a little girl, that my big brother was the bravest and handsomest of all the Lost Boys, but now I could see that Charlotte was right, he really was lovely, that air of deep sadness about him making him doubly attractive.
I had to think about this; here I was, mentally ogling my big brother, the boy who used to read me to sleep and make me beans on toast, blow my nose and fix my cuts and bruises, and wondering what it would be like to snog him? I must be out of my mind!
When I got home that afternoon, Mark hadn’t arrived back from school yet, and mum was still at work, so I had the place to myself for a little while, giving me time to think. Charlotte had struck a chord with me, and I wanted to explore why I’d had such a weird feeling when I thought about Mark, and how the thought of kissing him suddenly seemed… not so odd.
Mark chose then to come in from school, and I studied him with the new perspective I had been given by Charlotte, and she was right, he was a babe! My 16 year-old brother was just too cute!
Mark looked strangely at me. “You Ok, Tink?” he asked, grinning at me, “You’re staring at me like I grew another head, something wrong?”
I blushed, and cast around for something to say, what actually popped out of my mouth was what was buzzing around in my head. “You’re beautiful!” I blurted out, and then clapped my hand over my mouth, flushing scarlet as I realised what I’d just said.
Mark stared at me, his eyes wide in shocked amazement, and then he smiled that beautiful, slow, shy smile of his, the one that always, always made me want to hug him, ever since I was a very little girl.
He came over to the couch and sat next to me, putting his arm around me, like he used to when I was little.
“No Tink, you’re beautiful, you’re Tinkerbell, our very own beautiful little golden fairy princess! Now, what do you want to eat? We have sausages, or I can put a pasty in the oven and make you some fries, would you like that?”
He hugged me once more, then rubbed my hair, and stood up, grinned at me, and went off to the kitchen, to start getting a meal ready for when mum got home.
When mum came in, something about her told me how this evening was going to go, and sure enough, she headed straight for the bureau, unlocked it and pulled out her trusty vodka bottle. I stood next to her and put my hand on her arm.
“Please mum, don’t… please?” I asked her softly, she just sneered back and I smelled it on her breath; she’d already been drinking; now she was just topping-off.
I tried again.
“Please mum, just have something to eat with us, not this, please?”
She shook me off, and next thing I knew she hit me on the side of the face hard enough to knock me over. I sat there, stunned, my face feeling numb and hot at the same time, as she loomed over me, and then she started.
“You little bitch, it’s all your fault, it was fine, everything was fine, and then you had to ruin it, you sent him away, he left me with you, why didn’t you leave, I never wanted you, you little bitch, get out of my house, get out, GET OUT!!”
Suddenly, Mark was there, pushing her back away from me, standing protectively over me, my eye starting to close and water as my face got hotter.
“Leave her, Mum, why don’t you go to your room, lie down or something, I’ll bring you something to eat later, OK?”
Mum smiled at him. “Yes, Mark, you’re a good boy, you always were a good boy, he couldn’t take you away from me, I think I’ll go and lie down for a while, just a little bit…!”
She turned and shuffled away, and Mark lifted me up, turning my head to look at my left eye, a look of shock on his face at what he saw.
“Jesus, Tink, why did she have to…!” he muttered, hugging me as I trembled with shock and fear; fear of my own mother, that she’d do something like that to me; all I wanted was to bolt out the front door and keep running, I was too afraid to stay there a minute longer.
Mark came to a decision, grabbed my coat and hustled me out the door.
“M… Mark, where…?” I stammered.
“Nia’s place, you can stay there tonight, you’ll be safe there, I… I don’t know what to do about your eye, Mrs. Morrison, she’ll know…”
Muttering under his breath, he tugged me to Nia’s place, Jamie opening the door and looking shocked at what he saw.
“MUM! Mum, need some help, now, quick!” he called out, Nia running and slamming to a halt when she saw my face.
“Mark, what happened, what the bloody hell did you…?”
Mark cut her off. “Mum hit her, she was drinking, I didn’t…!”
Nia’s eyes blazed. “Look at her, Mark, your mother’s so big and she’s so tiny, LOOK AT HER!! Where the HELL were you?” she screamed at him.