Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Rag Doll Ch.  05
Summary: Nicky's brother learns the truth about Barbara & his father.
Keywords: inc,fic
   This story follows on almost immediately after the events in Ch.  4, and
draws together some of the loose ends from the original series.
   My name is Robert Davies, and this is the story of how I learned to stop
being an obnoxious prick and actually made someone happy at last.
   *
   I have one older brother, Nicky, but more about him later, and a younger
brother, Richard, Rick, who's a year younger than me.  We live in Carlisle,
on the Scottish borders, in a great big, gloomy barn of a house my father
had inherited from some relative or the other.  When I was 17, Nicky did a
bunk, I don't know where he went, for all I knew he dropped off the face of
the earth, but that was just about when all our troubles began, the
catalyst, as it were.
   The day after he fucked off, his mother, Barbara went and hanged herself
in the old Butler's Pantry, cue police, coroners, and all kinds of
disruption while the rest of us tried to live our lives around it.  At the
time I thought it was the most inconsiderate thing I had ever heard of; why
couldn't she go and do it in the public lavatory in town, or the ladies
Restroom in McDonalds?  Then at least we wouldn't have the Old Bill
wandering through the house like they owned the place, something that
particularly pissed-off my old man.
   Yes, I know, I sounded like a heartless, self-involved prick just then.
Well, back then, before so much changed for me, that's about all I was.
   So Nicky was gone, and all was quiet for a few weeks, and then it all
started to go pear-shaped; the Americans were trying to yank dad over there
on what he said were trumped-up charges that he had violated one of their
embargoes; this nonsense went on, and on, and on; dad spent a fortune on
legal brains to clear this mess up, and when the last Extradition request
was thrown out, as it should have been, we all breathed a sigh of relief;
then the bloody Appeal Court got in on the act, allowed the appeal, and
suddenly my dad is on a plane to stand trial in America, for doing business
in Europe, with countries that had no connection to America; how did that
happen?
   Anyway, to cut a long story short, he was convicted of crimes against
America, and sentenced to 40 years in jail with no hope of parole;
basically, he was going to die in jail, they just extended the death
sentence by 40 years.  So now the witch-hunt started here, too.
   All my dad's businesses, all his bank accounts, all his property,
everything he owned, everything we owned was seized by the Serious
Organised Crime Agency, leaving just this house; they even took the
furniture, the TV's, and most of the crockery and silverware, because they
claimed they were bought with the proceeds of crime; they'd be
auctioned-off at some time in the future, but I didn't know where or when,
and I didn't have the money to buy them back anyway.
   I was 19, Richard was 18, and suddenly all we had was a mostly empty
house, no money, and no furniture except a few battered pieces we found in
the attics and basements.  For various reasons we weren't entitled to any
benefits; we had no income, but we owned an asset, a very valuable asset,
apparently, so the only answer I got from the Benefits Agency when I asked
for assistance was pretty straightforward; if you need money, sell your
house; two teenage boys don't need to live in a six-bedroom mansion...
   There was no way I was going to allow the house to be sold; it was my
dad's and it was all we had, so I found a job with the City Council, mostly
driving the mowing machines that cut the grass verges and public green
spaces.  It was long hours, at minimum wage, but I jumped at it; I wasn't
actually trained to do anything, I'd always believed in my dad's money, and
this was where it had brought us...
   I should have followed Nick's example; he'd always wanted to be a
mechanic, even though dad was dead against him being any kind of manual
worker, but Nick persevered, and actually qualified, in spite of dad and
his objections.  Richard and I however, had no marketable skills, we'd
always thought dad was going to hand his businesses to us one day, so here
I was, driving the mowing machine, spending all day cutting grass verges,
getting sprayed with grass clippings, dogshit, and all the other nasty
debris inconsiderate slobs drop on the verges.
   When the grass stopped growing as the year turned, they moved me to
pushing a street sweeping machine, which was even worse; I had to buy my
own masks, as the ones supplied were worse than useless, and again, the
days were long, cold, smelly, and poorly paid.
   Richard couldn't find a job for love nor money, so he used to spend his
days either watching the small second-hand TV I'd bought or going through
dad's papers, the stuff that had been returned as being 'of no evidential
value', and seemed to have found something of interest in there; he tried
to tell me about it, but I was usually too buggered after a long day being
back-sprayed with filth from the street-sweeper to pay any real attention,
or even care, so I guess after a while he gave up trying.
   And then one day, just after his 19th birthday, he was gone.  I had a
tin under my bed with an emergency fund, almost £200, and that was gone as
well.  There was nothing I could do about it; he had no mobile phone, we
couldn't afford them, and so I just had to accept that he was gone, and my
bill-paying fund was gone with him.
   So there I was; haunting an empty house, earning just enough to keep me
off the breadline, but not enough to actually make a difference or make
life any easier, with no friends, no-one to turn to, as dad, in his wisdom,
had kept us apart from other kids when we were small, even down to having
us home-schooled; at least Nick got to go to secondary school, and then
college, his mother made sure of that, but she never lifted a finger for
Rick and me; I guess her own son came first, no surprises there, from what
dad had told us about her.
   Funny thing is, I never really questioned how, if Nicky was older than
us, and if Barbara was his mother, how did we come along?  When did our
mother come on the scene, and where did she go?  Somehow, dad managed to
always deflect that question when it arose, and Rick and I never really
thought about it; if we had, then maybe things might have been so
different...
   My job sucked, but I stuck with it; millions of people had no job; at
least I had daily employment and a payslip at the end of the week, and with
Rick gone, there was enough money for the occasional treat.  I remember the
first time I bought a real pizza, from the Domino's in town, I was actually
drooling by the time I got home, it had been so long since I'd had one; my
occasional treat was the 'Saver' version from the local supermarket
own-brand range, and the taste of the real thing was out of this world; I
had to discipline myself to just eat a couple of slices and save some to
last for the next few days; that week was bills week, so no treats until
the following month.  After putting aside enough to pay the gas bill, the
electric bill, and the Council Tax, there was precious little for food, so
I quickly had to learn how to eke out what food I could afford as best I
could.
   And so it went on; work, no real prospects, no friends or confidantes,
loneliness and anger; at dad, for letting them railroad him and stripping
us of everything, at Nick and his mother for abandoning us, at Rick for
leaving me alone, and at myself for landing myself square in the poverty
trap.  I wanted out of here, I wanted my life back, I wanted my dad back,
and I wanted to see that smug scumbag Nicky strapped to the railway lines
for what I was sure he'd done; I'd come to believe that Nick had somehow
set in motion everything that had happened since he left, and I wanted my
hands around his neck so I could choke the life out of him for being what
he was; the sly, spoiled little bastard who destroyed my life.
   Rick had been gone for almost two years, and I'd become so used to being
alone that I hardly ever even thought about him anymore, when that all
changed.  I came home from work on a cold and windy November evening, badly
in need of a shower, as usual, to find the front door open; I was
immediately on my guard; there was nothing here worth stealing, the Crime
Agency had already stripped us of everything of any value, but there were
always junkies who'd steal anything they could sell for a fix, and vagrants
looking for a warm squat to doss in, so I quietly eased the door open and
slipped inside.
   I immediately smelled something cooking, something spicy, warm,
inviting, and my stomach rumbled; it was late in the week, and my budget
was stretched to breaking point, so I had baked beans on toast planned for
dinner; this smelled a lot better.  I heard voices, and realised it was
Rick.  Rick!  After two years, what was he doing here, and what gave him
the right to just waltz back in after taking all the money I had and doing
a disappearing act?
   I pushed the door open, and there he was, looking the same, reading
something and talking over his shoulder to someone in the kitchen, someone
female, by the sound of it, a voice with a distinct London accent; so, he'd
waltzed back in here and brought his girlfriend too, had he?  I'd soon put
him straight about that!  You leave, you're gone, it's as simple as that;
sneaking-off like that had taken away any right he had to be here, as far
as I was concerned.
   "What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, watching in satisfaction
as he jumped, spinning round, to smile at me, a big, wide, cheesy, 'Hi,
howya doing!' kind of smile, but I wasn't having any of it; he'd stolen my
money, what little I had, disappeared, and never so much a note in almost
two years to say where he was, to say sorry, nothing.
   "Bobby, God, it's good to see you!" he exclaimed, and I had to grin at
the sheer barefaced gall he had to think I was going to welcome him back,
just like that...
   "Where the hell have you been, and who said you could come in here? 
This is my home now, you left, so get out, and take whoever the hell that
is with you!  Get out, both of you, before I throw you both out by the
scruff of your necks!"
   The girl in the kitchen had come to the doorway, and stood staring at me
in what looked like fascination, no trace of fear or apprehension on her
face, just interest.  I glanced at her, and then took a second, longer
look. Whatever my problem with him, I had to admit Rick had good taste; she
was exquisite!  Tall, slender, possibly late teens or early twenties,
olive-skinned, with long, glossy, mahogany-red hair, startling green-hazel
eyes, and full red lips that seemed naturally red, rather than through any
cosmetic help.  She was dressed in a tight Tee-shirt that outlined and
emphasised her small, firm breasts rather well, and skinny jeans that she
managed to fill most enticingly; she was completely stunning, and I found
my gaze being drawn to her even as my anger at Rick bubbled up.
   "What do you want here?  You take all my money, you disappear for damn
near two years, and then you just roll in here expecting a warm welcome? 
Get out, now, and take her with you!"
   I turned away in disgust, weary, angry, hungry, and just too worn-out to
say any more.  I'd rehearsed this meeting in my mind many times, and all
the biting things I'd wanted to say hovered below the surface of my mind,
but I just couldn't say them; all I wanted was him gone, and his girlfriend
with him.
   "Bobby, we need to talk, all of us, now..." said Rick, and I turned to
him, anger threatening to spill over into something physical; couldn't he
understand plain English?  Why would I want to stand here and bandy words
with him; I thought I'd made myself perfectly clear.
   "Get out Rick, I told you twice now, are you deaf?  Go, before I hurt
you!"
   "And will you hurt your little sister too?" he asked me, and my head
snapped around.
   "What did you say?" I croaked, and he nodded slowly.
   "Bobby, this is Yasmin, Yaz for short; she's our younger sister, and
that's her big sister, our big sister, Shereen over there!"
   I looked around in a kind of daze, and there was another girl, almost
the double of Yasmin, but even prettier, if that were possible.  This girl
had paler, creamier skin, and dove-grey eyes, but the same rich mahogany
hair, and she was maybe a couple of years older than Yasmin, maybe my age,
but the same height as Yasmin, a similar slender, willowy build, and a
figure just as tight and alluring as her sister.
   "Hi Bobby, I've heard a lot about you!" she smiled, and I sat down
before I fell down.
   "How...when...did...when...?  I managed, and both girls grinned at me.
   "Don't worry, Bobby, when Rick turned up at our doorstep, we had pretty
much the same reaction!" smiled Yasmin.
   My head was spinning; these two gorgeous girls were my sisters?  How? 
When did this all happen?
   Shereen patted my knee.
   "Go and have a shower and get changed, and we'll talk after dinner;
hurry up, dinner's almost ready!"
   I suddenly realised what I must look and smell like, and hurriedly
excused myself, taking the stairs two at a time in my haste to get cleaned
up and get back to that wonderful smelling food and those beautiful girls!
I had a hot shower; I normally had cold showers, to minimise my use of gas;
I needed that for when winter really began to bite, when I had no option
but to heat the room I lived in, and having a hot shower was a luxury in my
circumstances, but I thought the fact that I had company justified it, just
this once.
   Dinner was incredible; the girls were amazing cooks, and they'd put
together a wonderful Madras chicken curry, tangy, hot, and spicy, fragrant
basmati rice, sweet and fruity Kashmiri naan breads stuffed with almond
paste, coconut, sultanas and honey, and flavoured with cardamoms and other,
more exotic spices, and a cool cucumber, sour cream and onion raita.  For
someone whose meals usually consisted of soup, and beans on toast, it was a
banquet I never seriously thought I'd ever get to eat, and I pitched in
happily.  Conversation was limited as we ate, Rick and the girls watching
me as I stuffed my face.  I stopped when I saw them eyeing me, and Shereen
reached out to put her hand on mine.
   "Eat as much as you want, Bobby; we saw what's in the pantry.  Poor you,
I don't know how you survive on so little, I never knew things were so
tough for you!  You eat all you want, there's plenty for you, there always
will be, I promise!"
   Her eyes were brimming with tears, and I bridled; who the hell was she
to come in here and start pitying me?  I'd managed okay so far, and I
didn't need some stranger patronising me!  That was my father talking, of
course, and even as the resentment flared inside me, I realised how barren
it was, how that kind of thinking had left me here to slowly dwindle away.
I told you, I was an uptight prick, and never more so in that instant, when
I hotly, foolishly, resented the simple act of another human being reaching
out to me.
   I looked away in embarrassment, knowing that she'd somehow read every
mean and angry nuance of my reaction to her, the embarrassment growing to
encompass the knowledge that they knew I was so hard-up I was reduced to
living on baked beans on toast and tomato soup.  Shereen put her hand on my
chin and turned me to face her.
   "Bobby, you're my brother, you're Rick's big brother, and I won't ever
leave you hungry or cold; when Rick brought us here it broke our hearts to
see how little you have and how you have to live, alone and with no-one to
care about you.  We won't let that happen again; that's a promise, okay? 
You'll never be alone again, cross my heart!"
   I was trying to take this all in; this girl, my...sister, was promising
to take care of me, and all I could do was wonder why; I didn't know her, I
had no connection to her, and I couldn't understand the deep connection she
seemed to feel with me; was I so disconnected from people, so wrapped-up in
my own struggle that I'd forgotten how to relate to others, how to be
grateful?  Had I ever really learned how to do that?  With a rush of shame,
I suddenly realised I'd never felt gratitude to another living soul, only
an almost overpowering sense of entitlement.  I'd never related to other
people in any meaningful way because I knew I was better than them.  Was
that really the legacy my father had left me?  To be a complete and total
ass?
   Rick leaned over and slapped me on the shoulder.
   "Take it easy Bobby; it'll take a while to sink in, but it will, believe
me!  It took me a while, but you're smarter than me, you should be able to
figure it out in jig-time!  Just take my word for it, it's worth it,
honest! Now eat up, we have a lot to tell you, and you're not going to like
any of it, but you have to hear it; then perhaps you'll understand better
what and who we are, and why everything happened the way it did."
   When we'd finished, Rick and Yasmin cleared the table while Shereen led
me into the sitting room, and I have to be honest, I was captivated by the
sight of her bouncy little bottom twinkling in her skinny jeans as she
walked ahead of me.  I only had the ratty old couch and a battered
prolapsed armchair I'd salvaged from a house being demolished, so I
motioned her to the couch and pulled the chair a little closer so we could
have that talk Rick had mentioned.
   Rick and Yasmin came in just then, and plumped down on the couch, Rick
in the middle of those two beautiful, exotic-looking girls.  Rick was
definitely uncomfortable, but he obviously wanted to tell me whatever it
was that was so important, so I waited patiently.
   "Bobby, you're not going to like this; I didn't, it still tears me up
inside, and there's so much of it, so here goes; first off, Bobby, about
Nicky..."
   I rolled my eyes; the last thing I wanted to know about was that spoiled
little mummy's boy.  Rick looked annoyed at my impatience.
   "No, Bobby, you've got it wrong about Nicky; we were both wrong, no
Bobby!" as I tried to interject, "Just be quiet and listen, for once, just
listen, please!"
   I was the verge of walking out, but something stopped me; perhaps it was
the look on his face, or the note in his voice...
   "Bobby," he began, "We were wrong about Nicky, so wrong; he didn't
desert us, or leave us in the lurch; dad beat him half to death, and
Barbara got him out of here to save his life!"
   I stared open-mouthed in shock; I was disinclined to believe him, then
all those evasions and refusals by dad to give any real answers about where
Nicky was, or why he'd left so suddenly re-surfaced; all dad had ever said
was that he was a namby-pamby little mummy's boy, and good riddance; now
perhaps I was about to get some answers.
   "Nicky tried to stop dad beating Barbara up, and dad hurt him; he hurt
him really badly.  He boasted that Nicky was going to carry those scars
'til the day he died, that every day, when he saw those scars, he was going
to remember who put them there; according to him, that was a father's true,
lasting legacy; the last time dad saw him, Nicky was a blood-soaked ruin,
and he was proud of what he'd done to him; Nicky didn't run; dad almost
killed him, and left him nowhere to go; Barbara helped him escape before
dad killed him, and he would have, God, he would have..."
   He swallowed, then continued.
   "You remember how dad always used to lay into Barbara, we'd listen, and
just shut the door and ignore it?  How we always said it was nothing to do
with us?  We should have tried, Bobby, maybe if we'd tried, maybe she'd
still be here, maybe Nicky wouldn't have gotten so badly hurt!  Just once
would have been enough, Bobby, just once could have saved her!"
   My head was spinning with this, and something he'd said came back into
focus.
   "Who did he boast this to; who was he telling all this to?"
   Now Shereen spoke.
   "He was telling this to mummy.  We were there, he was drinking and
pawing at mummy, and telling her all this stuff, boasting about it, like it
was something to be proud of!  We were there, but that didn't stop him
groping and mauling her.  He told her so much more; Rick?"
   Rick took up the story once more.
   "Bobby, I don't know how to tell you this; I wish to fuck I'd never
found out, now I'm going out of my mind, and I don't know who can help me,
or you!" He paused for so long I thought he'd said all he was going to say,
but then I saw the tears start.
   "Nicky wasn't Barbara's son, Bobby; dad snatched him from his first wife
and brought him back to England from America.  He's not Barbara's son; I
am, and so are you; she was our mother, Bobby, Barbara was our mum, and he
never told us, and he wouldn't let her tell us either.  That son of a bitch
stole us from our mother, and lied about her to us all our lives, he made
us hate her, he made us into things that sat there and grinned while he
beat her and hurt her, and I still don't know why, and now I know why she
died; Shereen's mother told me the truth; he killed her, Bobby, he killed
her just because she went through his papers, he thought she was trying to
find something to give to the police, something to get him put away, so he
strung her up and watched her die, and now he's never going to pay.  Oh
Bobby, what are we going to do?"
   The tears were running down his face, and I couldn't do a thing about
it; I was literally frozen in place as the whole, terrible, evil story
unfolded.  Yasmin was holding Rick as he cried like a small child, but all
I could feel was cold rage that my whole life was being turned into a sham,
a web of lies spun by a man I'd idolised.  All I could do was shake my head
in denial; this was a lie, it had to be, it was some weird nightmare, and
any moment now I was going to wake up and it would be time to go back to my
shit job for shit money and live out the shitty remains of my shitty life.
   "Bobby...!"
   I looked up to see Shereen standing next to me.  She knelt down and
leaned on the arm of the chair.
   "Bobby, it's all true.  Our father was a vile man, who did vile things
because he could; he thought his money made him invulnerable; he hurt mummy
so many times, and he'd just laugh and say that's what chilli-cracker
whores were for.  My mother was a brilliant businesswoman, a London
Metropolitan University graduate in business and finance.  She owned
properties all over London, Robert Davies wanted those businesses and
properties, so he sabotaged her arranged marriage to shake her loose from
her family, and suddenly he's in her bed, and all her properties, all her
businesses, all now belonged to him."
   She was looking away into the distance now, seeing something I couldn't,
her expression set and her voice flat.
   "He'd turn up out of the blue, drink Scotch until he was in the mood,
then drag her off to bed, and in the morning she'd be covered in bruises,
cuts and scratches, and usually a black eye or two.  Sometimes he'd beat
her up in front of us; we were small and he was our father but that never
stopped him hurting her in front of us."
   She stopped speaking to wipe her eyes with the heels of her hands,
   "He used to tell us that when we were old enough, he had some friends
who wanted to play with us, he used to call us little chilli-cracker sluts,
half-breed whores, vile names from a vile man, our own father; he was a
racist, but he saw nothing wrong in forcing an Indian woman into his bed,
and promising the children he fathered on her to his friends, for a price.
Our own father was going to whore us out to his friends, Bobby, he thought
it was funny!  can you even imagine what it feels like for your own father
to tell you his friends were waiting to do to you what he did all the time
to mummy?  That's what he made us live with, that's the kind of man he is,
Bobby."
   Tears were running down her cheeks again, but she made no move to wipe
them away this time.
   "He used us to control her, he'd tell her what he'd do to us if she ever
went to the police, and she knew he wasn't bluffing; he took everything
she'd built Bobby, and left her with nothing except her house, and only
because it was in a trust and he couldn't touch it, the clothes on her
back, and us; he's hurt so many people, ruined so many lives, told so many
lies, but I wouldn't lie to you."
   "Our father nearly destroyed all of us, but at least where he is now he
can't hurt anyone ever again; he did everything he was jailed for, believe
me, and more, so maybe now he's being made to pay for what he did, maybe
now he's learning what it's like to be powerless and at the mercy of people
who don't give a fuck about you.  Ricky told me you thought he'd been
railroaded, but the system here never caught up to him; at least the
Americans saw him for what he was, and stuffed him in a cage and threw away
the key; now maybe he's getting some justice handed to him!"
   I listened in horror; what Rick had told me was bad enough, and now
this; my father was a psychopath, he had to be, to inflict such suffering
with no flicker of remorse; we were his children, and he'd lied to, hurt us
and stolen from us all our lives.  And now I was remembering how Nicky had
hinted time and again to us about Barbara; he must have known all along
that she was our mother, and he'd tried to let us know, and we'd just
snubbed and ignored him...
   Maybe Barbara (and even now, after everything I'd been told, I still
couldn't call her 'mum'!) was so beaten down, cowed and frightened she made
him promise not to tell us; it made sense; the way Nicky was attached to
her, he'd have done anything for her.  I felt a deep stabbing pang of
remorse and guilt for all the things I'd said or thought about both of
them, and suddenly I missed my big brother, I wanted to see him again, and
to beg his forgiveness for all those bitter, thoughtless words, all the
unfounded hate and anger; I needed to know if he was alright, if he'd even
survived that beating, if he'd managed to find his way back to his mother,
if he had a family who took better care of him than we had, and if his life
had somehow worked out.
   There was one other thing I had to know, a glaring omission in Shereen's
story.
   "Shereen, where's your mother?  Why didn't she come with you?"
   Shereen looked at me levelly, fresh tears welling up in her beautiful
eyes and spilling down her ivory cheek.
   "She died, Bobby, three months ago.  She had a massive brain
haemorrhage, she just...went, like that; she didn't suffer, she didn't feel
a thing; the coroner thought it was possibly connected to all the violence
she'd been subjected to, but she'd taken so much punishment there was no
one thing to blame her death on.  Ricky helped us get past it; mummy liked
and trusted him, loved him, even; she told him most of what you just heard,
and made him promise to look after us if anything happened to her; it was
almost like she knew what was coming..."
   Rick was still crying softly and Yasmin was cradling him, but she had
tears in her eyes too.  I looked at my brother, my sisters, and all I could
feel was a kind of hopeless, empty dread.  Even now, with him in prison so
far away, my father was still here, in this room, lying coiled up inside
me; he'd made me what I was, and all I'd learned came from him; one day he
was going to come out of me, and I couldn't allow that, not now, not after
what I'd learned about him, and us.  What use was I ever going to be, with
that monstrous scab caked on my soul?
   And the worst part was, there was nothing I could do to fix it; our
father had put so many sharp bends in me, instilled so many hatreds, so
many wrong ideas, it was all I knew, all that I was, so how could I ever
hope to be normal?
   The answer, of course, was staring me in the face; I couldn't; I was
badly damaged goods.  Maybe our mother had wanted him to catch her and do
that to her, maybe she knew that there was no way to fix what Robert Davies
had done, to her, to us, to all his children, and she'd used him to put her
out of her misery.
   Had she sacrificed herself for us, even though we felt nothing for her,
sacrificed herself in the hope her death would set in motion the
destruction of her husband and free his children?
   That one question hammered at me, but it was too dreadful to
contemplate, that someone could be so desperate that they could be driven
to that, and now the full horror of what I was, what he'd made me into, hit
hard; all I could ever do would be to follow in his footsteps, plough my
way through other people like they were chaff in a field, because that was
what he'd made me, and the only thing he'd ever taught me, the only thing I
knew.
   I couldn't change, I knew that; I was condemned to follow in his wake,
and destroy everyone in my path; he'd seen to that.
   Suddenly, it came to me with shocking clarity just how simple it really
was; there was a way out for me, one that solved everything for everyone
and shut this nightmare off for me forever.
   Rick was still adaptable enough to change, the evidence was right there
in front of me, the same for the girls; my father had somehow been unable
to worm his way inside them, but me, I knew how damaged I was, how immersed
I was in the ways and values of Robert Davies.
   I'd felt at times that the only real cure for what ailed me, the only
way out of this fucked-up travesty I called a life, was a bullet in the
brain; perhaps that really was my best and most realistic way out of this
hopeless nightmare.  This whole series of revelations had shown me just how
deeply Robert Davies had reached down into me, and what it had shown me
with shocking clarity was that there was nothing inside me worth the
having, nothing to save and no soul to speak of, just a whole lot of me,
and it was fouled and slimed with him and his values, an irretrievably lost
cause; all I'd ever accomplish would be to infect, damage, and destroy
those around me.
   Everyone at some time in their life has stood on a high place and felt
the conflicting twin compulsions, to both jump and step back from the edge;
for me the time to make that jump had suddenly arrived, in the first full
moment of clarity I'd ever experienced.  Authors and philosophers talk
about a life worth living, how about a life so fouled and polluted that it
should be discarded, for the good of those around you?
   I had to go somewhere quiet, I had to think about what I'd just
discovered about me, who and what I was, and where I belonged in this
'family' that had suddenly descended on me.  I got up out of the chair and
made for the door, Shereen watching me closely.  As I reached for the door
handle, she called out my name.
   I turned to see her looking at me oddly.
   "Bobby, where are you going?" she asked me.
   "I have something I have to do," I answered truthfully, "Goodnight
Shereen, I think Rick needs you; keep an eye on him please."
   I closed the door firmly and walked up the stairs.  Once in the
bathroom, after locking the door, I picked up dad's old straight razor and
sat down on the edge of the bathtub, idly watching the light play on the
blade of the old razor, suddenly fascinated by the tiny points of light
along the edge, the sign of a well-sharpened blade.
   As I watched the light ripple on the old steel, I thought about what
Ricky and Shereen had told me; my father was a murderer, he'd killed my
mother, and I was just like him, I was a chip off the old block in almost
every way.  If I stayed with those people downstairs, and somehow I still
couldn't bring myself to think of them as 'family', because they weren't,
somehow, in some way, I would be responsible for bringing them down,
because that was my nature, that was how I was bred.
   I realised my first impulse was the right one; the blade was my way of
protecting them from me, the one thing I could do for them that would keep
whatever was still coiled-up inside me away from them forever; this blade
was their guarantee of a life free of my father and his influence.
   Shereen must have seen something of my inner turmoil in my eyes, because
just as I had decided to make that final, sweeping cut across my throat and
end this whole miserable existence for me, the door burst open and suddenly
Rick was holding my hand away from me in a grip I just couldn't break free
of.
   "Bobby, what the fuck are you doing, just give...me...that...!" I let
the razor go as my hand opened involuntarily, and out of the corner of my
eye I saw Shereen kick it out of reach under the bathtub.
   "Bobby, what in the name of God are you doing, why would you want
to...to...?" she asked, her eyes wide and frightened.
   I was having trouble speaking, as Rick currently had his forearm in my
throat as he held me flat against the wall.
   "Why, Bobby?" she whispered, and I answered her as best I could while
struggling to escape from Rick's hold on me.
   "Don't you know what I am?  I'm him, or I will be!  I can't be one of
you!  I'll break it all up, I know I will, and you all deserve better than
that!  Please, please, if you really think anything of me, just turn
around, close the door, let me finish this my way!" I pleaded with her, my
heart sinking as she slowly shook her head, then glanced at Rick and nodded
slightly.
   "Sorry Bobby, no can do!" said Rick, "Sorry about this...!"
   His fist slammed against my jaw, I saw stars, and then blackness and
silence.
   *
   I awoke in darkness, wondering for a second where I was, then stiffened
as the sound of someone stirring came clearly to me.  I tensed, ready to
jump out of bed at whoever was in the room with me.
   "Shhh, Bobby, calm down, it's only me!" came a soft voice, and I
relaxed; Shereen; it was all real then, not some weird dream.
   I fumbled for the lamp, and she switched it on.  She was sitting in the
carver chair I had found in the basement, which constituted the sole piece
of furniture in my bedroom other than the narrow single bed with the bricks
at one end in place of legs, and the battered night-stand next to the bed.
   "How are you feeling, Bobby?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
   My jaw ached where Rick had cracked me, and Shereen saw me wince as I
opened my mouth to speak.
   "No, it's okay, don't speak if it hurts.  Sorry about that Bobby, Rick
was scared of what you might do, he didn't want you hurting yourself;
please don't be mad at him!"
   I had to grin at her defending him; but then, she probably knew more
about him than I did; the Rick I'd seen earlier was nothing like the
Richard I'd grown up with; he was almost like a different person, a much
friendlier, more together person than I'd ever known.  Before Rick left,
he'd been morose, sullen, bitter, hostile and angry; just like me in fact.
Now it was like he'd had a personality transplant; his smile had been open,
friendly, and approachable, as had his whole demeanour, not cynical and
devious; something radical had happened to change him, and I was intrigued,
in spite of everything else that was crowding inside me just then; had it
been these two girls?  How?
   "Would you like a hot drink?" she asked, and I smiled ruefully.
   "I haven't got anything, only water; it's ok, I'll get a glass myself."
I said, and she cocked her head as she smiled at me.
   "You didn't, but Ricky and Yaz did some shopping earlier, and we have
coffee, tea and juice, and a couple of beers if you want something a little
more interesting than tap water!"
   It was my turn to look curiously at her.
   "I know I asked you this before, but why are you doing this for me?  It
seems to me you could have a much better life in London, far away from all
this.  Why are you so intent on making me a part of your life?  I mean, I'm
no-one to you; don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, especially after
that meal, it just seems...strange, is all I'm saying..."
   Her hand came up to gently touch the side of my jaw, right where it hurt
the most, and I winced.
   "Sorry, I just wanted to check for myself nothing was broken." she
murmured, "It all seems okay, you'll live!  In answer to your question, I'm
a few months older than you, so that makes me your big sister.  Big sisters
are supposed to look out for their little brothers, and that includes not
turning their backs while their little brothers make huge, stupid
mistakes."
   She shifted her wight, sliding closer to me.
   "Bobby, I saw how you've had to live, I know how hard you work and how
little you get for it, Ricky told us everything, and I can see for myself
how little proper food you get; baked beans and tomato soup; you can't live
like that, it may be hot and filling, but it's not nourishing; you need
protein, a proper balanced diet, not just empty calories; look at you,
you're all skin and bones!  You poor baby; you look famished!  I'm your big
sister and I won't let you live like that again; Yaz, Rick, and me, we're
your family, and family sticks together!"
   She smoothed the hair back out of my eyes.
   "Rick came to us just when we needed him the most, and now we're here
because you're family, and you need us, and we need you; Yaz is your little
sister too, she needs both her brothers, especially with what she's had to
live with for so long, so let's make a deal; you look after your sisters,
and your sisters promise to look after you; deal?"
   Despite my own damnably suspicious nature, I saw and heard nothing here
to put me on my guard; on the contrary, what was radiating from her in
waves was just honest sincerity.  I smiled at her, probably the first real
smile since before Dad had been taken away to appear in court all that long
while ago now.
   "Okay, it's a deal!  Big sister, huh?" and she smiled back.
   "Everyone I know calls me "Shari", you could make a start by calling me
that too!" she grinned, and I grinned back.
   "Okay, "Shari" it is, and welcome to the family!"
   She smiled at me, and I had to ask.
   "So, really, you're older than me?  How much?"
   Shereen twinkled at me.
   "Oh, a few months, Bobby, enough to make you my "little" brother,
anyway! Yaz is almost 20, so she's about a year younger than Ricky, so I
guess that makes me the oldest, so you better get used to taking orders!"
   She smiled as she said it, to show she was joking, and I couldn't help
but smile back; she had such a beautiful smile, too!
   "Right, Bobby, let's go and make a nice cup of tea, I could do with
something hot right about now!"
   We came back downstairs to find Rick and Yaz sitting in the kitchen
drinking mugs of coffee, the scent of the fresh coffee nearly making me
swoon; I hate tea, and coffee was so expensive I'd given up on ever buying
any ever again on my severely limited budget.  Yaz saw my expression and
silently handed me her mug with a shy smile.  I took it gratefully, sipping
slowly while savouring the rich bitterness and caffeine bite.  I sat at the
table while Shari busied herself making tea for herself and another coffee
for Yaz.  Rick seemed uncomfortable, until I grinned at him.
   "That's a sweet left hook you've got there, Ricky!"
   He grinned back, the tension draining out of him when he realised I
wasn't going to return the favour and bop him one.  Yaz gently turned my
head to look at the right side of my jaw.
   "There's a bruise coming up, Bobby; would you like some ice on that?"
she asked me softly, and I shook my head.
   "Thank you, no, it'll be okay in a couple of days." I replied, still
processing the fact of these girls, the horrifying story they'd told me,
the truths revealed about my mother and what my father had done to her,
their mother and what he'd done to her, what he'd done to us, and uppermost
in my mind, what he'd done to our big brother.
   Yaz saw my eyes filling as I thought about how I'd treated Barbara,
about how she must have felt for her sons to so utterly reject her for no
reason, and most of all how she must have felt the loss of Nicky, the only
one of us who'd loved and honoured her; she wasn't even his mother, she was
mine; she was my mother and I'd done nothing, said nothing, felt nothing
when my father had brutalised and finally destroyed her.  The tears ran
down my cheeks as they finally spilled from me, and suddenly Yaz was there,
holding me as I cried for her at last, for never knowing her, for letting
her go so easily, and for Nicky, for being the one thing she'd been allowed
to keep and love in this entire family.
   Yaz led me away from the table, and sat me on the couch in the sitting
room, sitting next to me so she could hold me, much as she'd held Rick
earlier.  She never said a word; what could she say that wouldn't sound
false, and trite, and banal?  Instead she held me close, giving me comfort
with her presence while I cried, probably for the first time in my life.
   At last I stopped crying; the guilt and sorrow had passed for now,
leaving me feeling empty and depressed; what did we do now?  This house was
a mausoleum, we could all live here, but it was almost completely
unfurnished; I couldn't even work out where the girls were going to sleep;
most of the beds had been taken away long ago to be sold at auction, and
those that were left had been unused for nearly two years now; damp and rot
would have claimed them by now, and there were precious few bedclothes and
linens left, barely enough for my ramshackle single bed.  I didn't have an
iron or an ironing table, any pillows or cushions, nothing.
   Rick obviously knew what I was thinking, as he tipped his coffee at me.
   "Don't worry, Bobby, we've sorted out sleeping arrangements.  We did
some exploring while you were...asleep, and found some single mattresses in
the attic; they're old, but clean; someone wrapped and stored them
properly, so they're nice and dry, so we moved a couple of the single-bed
frames into the master bedroom, the girls will stay there.  As for bedding,
why don't you help me bring it in?"
   I looked confused.
   "Bring it from where?"
   Nick smiled at me
   "From the car, Bobby!  We stopped off on the way here and bought
sleeping bags and pillows, because I knew the girls would need them; come
on, they need to get some sleep!"
   I could only stare stupidly.
   "You have a car?" I asked, and Rick grinned.
   "Well of course we have one; how did you think we got all the way here
from London, hitchhiking?"
   He drained his mug and stood up, nodding at me to follow him.  Their
car, a grey Mitsubishi Shogun I'd noticed but not really registered when I
first came in, was parked just a little way away, the luggage compartment
and most of the back seat crammed with bags and boxes.  Rick told me to
wait while he got in and reversed the car into the driveway so we didn't
have to traipse back and forth while we unloaded it.
   The girls came to help as we emptied the car, and with all four of us
working it was just a couple of minutes before all the stuff from the car
was piled up in the sitting room, with Rick and Yaz sorting through it all.
   I noticed that Yaz seemed to be more than usually attached to Rick; at
first I assumed it was because they were the younger ones, seeking support
from their peers, but then I began to understand it was a lot more complex
than that; they were obviously connecting at some deeper level as well.
   I was glad; Rick and I had never had any friends growing up; dad had
seen to that.  Nicky had gone to school when he was younger, but then dad
had decided that we should all be home-schooled, so we never had the
opportunity to mix and mingle with other people when we were young, and
after Nick was sent to secondary school, Rick and I remained at home with
our tutor.
   When I'd started work, I had no real idea how to communicate or relate
to the people around me; I think my colleagues thought I had some kind of
mental impairment, as I never spoke to any of them, but the truth was I had
nothing in common with them, no shared background, interests, experiences,
nothing; when they'd laugh and talk about girls, I just used to stare
blankly; I really had no idea what they were talking about, but I did
eventually come to understand that revealing to them that I was still a
virgin at almost 22 was probably not a smart move.
   I'd not met any girls yet; pushing a street-sweeper and smelling like a
midden are not the most aphrodisiac combination, so meeting girls on the
job just never happened, as a result of which, I really had few insights
and little to no intuition when it came to understanding the fairer sex.  I
knew about the mechanics of sex, of course; I could read, and I had the
usual collection of girlie mags any single man my age could be depended-on
to possess, but no actual experience, not even anything that could be
called a conversation with a member of the opposite sex.
   As I watched Rick and Yaz unpack, exchanging light touches, pats on arm,
or shoulder, or knee, and glances I couldn't understand, smoothing errant
strands of hair from each other's eyes, or a lightly touching fingertip to
the tips of noses, or chins, gentle horseplay, Shari slid next to me, her
arm around mine as she pressed herself against me, resting her head against
my shoulder.
   "They're such good friends, and good for each other; look at them! 
Ricky and Yasmin hit it off from Day One; they've hardly spent a minute
apart since Ricky first came to us.  I think it's a good thing; they both
needed someone, she found Ricky, and he found her.  Mummy was pleased; she
trusted Ricky to take care of his little sister, and Yaz needed a
protector, someone to look up to and feel safe with after being frightened
for so long of what our father said he was going to do with her."
   As Shari leaned against me, the scent of her hair teased and tickled my
nostrils, and underneath that the smell of her; soap, clean and astringent,
and even more subtly, the scent of her skin; I began to harden; it was
purely involuntary; I had no thoughts or intentions towards her, good or
bad, it was just her femininity, her warmth and humanity, and the fact that
she wasn't shying away from me, as girls tended to do.
   I knew what arousal was, and most aspects of sex, or I thought I did,
but only from reading the girlie mags under my bed; I'd never even talked
to a girl before today, and now I was stirring as my newly-discovered
'older' sister hugged herself close to me.
   We continued to watch as Rick and Yaz pulled four bundles out of the
pile of stuff we'd brought indoors, four sleeping bags still in their
wrappers, and a pile of pillows.  We carried them up to the master bedroom
where the twin beds had been pushed together to make one large bed.  We'd
also brought some sheets from the pile of things they'd bought, and we
quickly made up the bed for the two girls, sleeping bags laid onto the
clean sheets, brand new pillows and pillowcases all ready for them.  Rick
had reclaimed his old room, so he dumped his sleeping bag and pillows on
the little single bed in there, even though the frame was in as bad a shape
as mine.
   "Tomorrow, Bobby, we need to do something about the bedrooms; Shari
wants you to go and do some shopping with her, we need more bedding,
crockery, silverware, everything really; four people can't live properly on
what we have here, so as you two are the oldest, you get the short straws!"
   More bedding made sense to me; I had few spare blankets, not even enough
for me, really; winter was always a tough time, and in the past I'd had to
resort to covering my feet and legs with old coats on top of the thin
blankets I had, as the house was freezing and I couldn't afford to turn the
central heating on; it was either heating, or hot water, and not much of
either at that.
   The following day was Saturday, so I had no work, but I was a little
worried about how we were going to pay for all the stuff we needed to make
this place habitable; I had no savings other than what I'd set aside to pay
the bills, and I said as much to Rick, who just grinned happily.
   "Come with me, Bobby, let's have a little chat with the girls!"
   Mystified, I followed him to the girls' room, knocked, and waited for
them to make themselves presentable.  Shari answered the door, wearing a
short bathrobe that showed off her long, long creamy legs, and twin peaks
in front where I swear her nipples were almost poking through.  I blushed,
but she seemed quite unconcerned about seeing me while dressed in just a
flimsy, short bathrobe.  Yaz was dressed almost exactly the same, and I
noticed Rick studiously avoiding looking at either her or Shari.
   "Shari," I began, "We have to talk about how we're going to live here; I
only have a little money saved, and I don't earn enough to support four
people, I don't know how to stretch what I earn four ways.  How are we
going to make this work?"
   As I spoke, she began to smile, then shook her head.
   "Bobby, it's okay; we have money; a lot of money, more than enough to
keep us going for a long, long while yet!  Sit down, please, I want to tell
you something."
   She led me into the room, and sat down on the bed, patting the mattress
beside her.  Yaz sat on the other side of the bed, with Rick next to her.
   "Bobby, remember when I said that all mummy had left was her house by
the time our father was extradited?  In the two years following that, she
managed to build a small but successful property development company, using
the house and the trust it was held in to acquire a small portfolio of
quite valuable rental properties dotted around East London.  Not too many,
just enough for her to manage.  Ricky had been with us for a while, and
worked for mummy, worked hard, too, renovating the properties, doing
repairs, keeping them in a fit state for the tenants, and when she died, we
learned that mummy had left the business to all three of us."
   Sh looked sadly at Rick, at Yaz, then looked back at me.
   "We decided to sell everything and come away to find you; none of us
wanted to stay in London anymore; too many of Robert Davies' old cronies
were around, and Ricky was worried about our safety, so we decided to make
a clean start a long way away from London.  I guess what I'm trying to say
is that we have more than enough money, quite a large amount, in fact, and
we want to stay here, with you.  All the family should be in one place, and
even if we're not really a family yet, I think we can learn to be one;
Ricky learned how to be part of our family, now Yaz and I want to be part
of yours, if you'll let us."
   I was trying to take this all in, but those long, smooth legs and
intriguing little points on the front of her robe were giving me serious
distraction issues.  Shari seemed to realise the direction of my attention,
and I swear her back arched a little more to thrust them even further
against the already tightly wrapped front of her robe, and the whisper of
skin against skin as she crossed and re-crossed her long, smooth legs were
almost deafening.
   I caught myself at this point.  What the hell was I thinking?  This was
my sister, for Chrissake!  I had no business being so interested in her
legs, or her chest, or her clear, satin skin, or her deep-coral, bee-stung
lips...just stop it right there!
   Shari smiled at me, a warm, understanding smile.
   "Thank you for thinking of us, Bobby, but you can stop worrying.  We
even have all the furniture from the house; when we sold up it was all put
in storage, and there's plenty of it to fill up this place; that is, if you
don't object?"
   She waited apprehensively, biting her lip in a way I found totally
distracting and absurdly attractive.
   "How can I object when you put it so nicely!" I smiled back, liking the
feeling, and Shari hugged me, those intriguing points on her robe pressing
into my chest like two little fingertips, and once again I felt the
stirrings of interest; sister or no, it felt good, and I had to catch
myself; nice as it was, this couldn't be a good thing!
   "I was hoping you'd say yes, Bobby!  And no more silliness like this
evening, yes?  You've got us, now, we've got you, and no-one will ever be
left out again, deal?"
   "Deal!" I murmured in her ear, enjoying the feel of this beautiful young
woman in my arms, a first for me, and a wonderful feeling.
   In the morning, Shari woke me with a cup of coffee.  She was dressed in
skinny jeans and a sweatshirt, furry Ugg boots and a warm jacket, all
topped off with a Von Dutch baseball cap; she looked cute, sexy and
playful, and once again I had to remind myself that she was my sister.
   "Come on Bobby, we need to do some shopping; I spoke to the storage
place early this morning and they're arranging to have all our stuff
shipped up here for tomorrow morning, so we need to get this place ready,
and we need a whole bunch of stuff, so you and I get to go shopping!  Come
on, it'll be fun!"
   I grinned as I drank my coffee; having a pretty (no, beautiful) girl
invite me out to have fun shopping was such a new experience I had no
pre-programmed response except to nod foolishly and grin like an idiot! 
Shari ruffled my hair and turned to leave.
   "Ten minutes, Bobby, we have to leave in ten minutes, so chop-chop, Big
Sister's given you an order!"
   I grinned as she threw the "Big Sister" at me yet again, thinking she
may be my big sister, but she sure didn't look like it!  I watched as she
walked out of the room, captivated once again by the sight of her tight
little bottom bobbling inside her tight jeans, with yet another moment of
guilt for finding her bottom so cute, then jumped out of bed and ran into
the shower.  I took a cold shower out of habit, even though something told
me hot showers were no longer going to be a luxury, and got dressed in
double quick time.
   Shari was waiting for me downstairs as I tried to get ready to go out
with her without showing any unseemly haste; however, I'm not very good at
either communicating with girls, never having actually spoken to one
before, or understanding their expectations in even the most superficial
way, so I think I came off looking more than a little pathetically eager to
please her, judging by the small smile on her face.  However, she was kind
enough to not comment, and even helped me put my old jacket on properly,
her eyes clouding when she saw how short the sleeves were; I'd had it since
I was 17, and there'd been a couple of growth spurts since then, but it was
all I had.
   "We'll do something about that soon, Bobby!" she whispered, then
straightened my collar and patted my chest in approval.
   "Right, Bobby, now you look 100% adorable, let's show you to the world
at large!"
   Adorable?  That word bemused me so much I just followed her out to the
car, trying to work out where she was coming from; Shari and Yaz had
happened to me so quickly I was still trying to carve out a 'sister' niche
in my head to fit them into.
   Rick seemed to have managed it quite well, his ease and easy manner with
them proved that; he was obviously completely comfortable with suddenly
having two sisters out of the blue; maybe he was just more adaptable than
me.
   I knew I had a lot to unlearn, and there was still a lot I was just
unwilling to let go of just yet; it was still too soon, despite what the
girls had said.  Shari's touchy-feely attitude to me was still more than a
little disconcerting; it was like she was trying to be my best friend,
although her hugging me last night had been more than a little ambiguous,
and certainly not what I thought was the way best friends behaved; no, I
was troubled by all these sudden changes and revelations, and still a
little wary when it came to other people.
   Shari scrabbled around on her phone for a while, one of those Galaxy
things, then tapped in a postcode on the Sat-Nav and started the engine.  I
asked her where we were going.
   "Bobby, we agreed last night we needed more bed linen, plates, cups,
cutlery, everything, so we're going to the Dunelm store on Castle Street to
get some basic house wares; Ricky and Yaz are going to start getting the
place ready; by this time tomorrow we'll all have some proper beds, chairs,
blankets and duvets, home comforts.  It's all the stuff out of our old
house."
   She stopped the engine and looked shrewdly at me.
   "Bobby, I know you're still not feeling the love when it comes to Yasmin
and me, but we really are your sisters, and we're not going to hurt you, I
promise.  Ricky wanted to come home, and we love Ricky, so we came with
him; he offered us somewhere we could be safe, and be a family, his family,
and yours too.  I don't want you to feel like we're pushing our way into
your home and your life, but the simple fact is, we feel safer with both
our brothers than without them.  I want to have my brothers around, I want
to get to know them, and I want them to want me around, but if you can't do
that, we'll go, and I mean that, truly; just say the word and we'll find
somewhere else.  I don't want to push you out of your home..."
   Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke, filled and then spilled down
her cheeks.  I was mortified; my mean suspicious nature had made this
lovely girl cry, who'd done nothing to me except treat me kindly and try to
make me part of a family again, to include me in her family.  Without
thinking I reached up to rub her tears away, wondering at the way she
flinched as I touched her.  Shari smiled tremulously at me as more tears
spilled down her cheeks, and I suddenly realised she was terrified of me;
she was probably waiting to see if I was my father's son, if I was going to
get violent, and then I suddenly understood why she'd brought me out with
her; it was to decoy me away from Yasmin in case I did become violent.
   I couldn't really blame her; all she really knew of me was that I wasn't
Rick, but that I was Robert Davies Junior, son of my father, the man who'd
threatened to sell her and had beaten and battered her mother repeatedly,
sowing the seeds of her death.  All the "little brother" business had just
been banter, she'd been scared of me the whole time, afraid I was the kind
of man my father was.  It horrified me to think that someone would or could
expect that from me; I'd never carried out a violent deed in my life.
   But there was no escaping that one fact; I was the son of a man who'd
done those things as a matter of course, because it was part of his nature.
Shari didn't know how much of him was lurking inside me, and so she had
every reason in the world to be afraid of me.  And now I understood; all
the touchy-feelie had been to show me that she and Yasmin were no threat,
and to defuse and deflect me, just in case I was readying myself to go off.
   I opened the door and slid out, to lean against the icy metal of the car
body; I felt sick; sick that someone could be that afraid of me, sick with
the knowledge of what she thought I was, and finally believing what she and
Rick had told me last night; the fear in her eyes right now, fear of me,
was all the confirmation I needed.  What kind of monster did she think I
was, and more to the point, how right was she?
   I tried to think straight, but all I could see was the fear in her eyes
when she looked at me; she saw me as some kind of monster, how could I
possibly convince her I wasn't?  Short answer; I couldn't, because one day
my nature was going to undo me, and take everyone with me...
   "Bobby...?" a soft voice startled me out of my reverie, and I turned to
see Shari standing a few paces away, just out of reach, I noted; probably a
wise move from her point of view.
   "Bobby, can we talk?" she asked me apprehensively, and I shrugged, still
preoccupied with my own moment of self-realisation.
   "Sure, if you think there's anything to say," I managed.  "I know how
you must see me, I just got it; I wish you were wrong, but I think you're
probably right about me; I'm not Rick, I'm probably too much like our
father to change, there's too much inside me that's bent the wrong way, my
father saw to that; everything he couldn't put into Nicky, or Rick, he
shoehorned into me, until all that's left is someone who can only make the
same choices he did.  I have to leave, I can never be part of your family,
and you really don't want to be part of mine.  Keep the house; it belongs
to all his children, I suppose, so it's as much yours as it is mine, I'll
get my stuff and be gone.  You don't need to know where, just forget me,
you'll be safer if you do."
   Shari stared at me with eyes like saucers.
   "Don't go, Bobby, please.  I was scared of you, but I'm not now, just
very worried about you; you almost fell last night, but we caught you; if
you go away who's going to be there to catch you next time?  Your place is
with your family, with us.  You've convinced yourself that you're the bad
seed, the one that's going to turn into a carbon copy of your father one
day, but if you can think like that it shows you know the difference
between right and wrong.  Robert Davies was a violent psychopath, but
you're Bobby, scared, isolated, lonely and alone, but still just Bobby, not
some axe-wielding lunatic, and you're not Robert Davies, murderer and
amoral sociopath!  Be part of your family, Bobby, we need you, and you need
us!"
   She stepped closer, coming within reach of me, but not tense and
frightened now, concern and kindness in her eyes.
   "Bobby, please don't go; I'm sorry for thinking what I did, but I had to
know; Ricky told us how angry and bitter you were, he was sure you'd have
grown out of it and be ready to accept your family, but I had to find out
for myself; I've had to be the strong one for Yasmin, I was her only
protection for so long, but she's been frightened all her life, and she
needs her brothers, both of them, to stand up and stand over her.  And so
do I, Bobby.  I've been scared as long as she has, but I couldn't let her
know that; now I need my brothers too, I want so much to feel safe too...!"
   She reached out hesitantly and stroked my cheek, her touch almost
seeming to burn me, her fingers still trembling.  I admired her bravery;
she'd been frightened of me, literally quaking in her boots, and yet she'd
still decoyed me away from her younger sister, making herself a target
should I turn out to be what she most afraid of.  Her courage more than
anything was what drove me to finally believe in her, her resolute bravery
in facing me alone even though she was sure I would turn on her.
   I'd never come across anything like that, and it shamed and humbled me
that I'd never been called on to show that kind of inner steel, that I
didn't even know how.  I had nothing and no-one to defend like that, had
never even had any reason to feel like that, but now, now I felt it for my
sister, knowing somehow that when I needed it, she would defend me like
that if I let her; and right now that's just what I wanted...
   I reached up and took her hand as gently as I could, and kissed the back
of it.  Shari smiled, blinking the tears out of her eyes, and an abstract
part of me wondered at how the tiny droplets glinted and sparkled in her
long, sooty eyelashes even as I began at last to connect, really connect,
with my (slightly!) older sister.  Shari came closer, and finally hugged
me; there was no artifice or testing this time, all she was doing was
hugging her brother and welcoming him back.  I held her close, enjoying the
feel of her, understanding at last what being part of a family, a real
family, could mean.
   After what seemed like an eternity, Shari pulled away to look up at me,
wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands as she smiled.
   "So, Bobby, are you coming shopping with your big sister?"
   I smiled back, surprised at how easily it came after the talk we'd just
had, but her quick gesture as she brushed an errant lock of hair out of my
eyes told me she wasn't afraid of me or what I might do; now she believed
in me the way I believed in her.
   We spent most of the morning buying basic crockery, silverware, a new
kettle, and a complete set of saucepans; I only had a couple, and they were
old and battered, but more than adequate to heat soup or baked beans.
   When we got back to the house, Rick had tinkered with the boiler and
managed to turn the heating back on, and the place was warm for the first
time since the end of summer; at first I was inclined to protest; how did
he expect me to pay for it?  Then Shari caught my eye and I subsided; of
course, we could afford to heat the place now...
   Rick and Yasmin had been busy, clearing the rooms ready for the arrival
of the furniture on Sunday, although clearing really meant picking up the
random litter of two years of neglect, the kind of detritus that
accumulates when a place lies empty for so long, and giving the place a
good dusting.
   We'd stopped off at the local fried chicken place and bought a bucket of
chicken and sides, again, something I never realistically expected to eat
anytime soon, and we had an impromptu picnic sitting on the newly-swept
floor of what had been the sitting room when we'd had something in there to
sit on!
   Once again I noticed Rick and Yasmin's closeness, the way he picked out
for her the pieces he thought she'd like, or picked the juiciest pieces
from his own portion and gave them to her, split his French fries with her,
and teasingly spooned Coleslaw salad into her upturned mouth, laughing as
he dabbed her chin where some of the mayonnaise had dripped.
   I noticed they sat close together, cross-legged on the floor, with their
hips touching, seeming more like boyfriend and girlfriend than brother and
sister.  Shari seemed not to notice; her attention seemed to be
concentrated on drawing me out, chattering about London, about working with
her mother and Rick over the last two years or so, asking me about my job,
girls, probing, but done skilfully.
   When I told her I'd never had a girlfriend, nor kissed a girl, she
seemed taken aback, given my age.  When I confessed that she was actually
the first girl I'd ever had a conversation with, she looked sad, her hand
immediately coming up to cup my chin then stroke my cheek.
   "We'll have to see about changing that, won't we, Bobby!" she smiled,
her eyes appraising me as I blushed in embarrassment.
   We spent the rest of the day cleaning and dusting, the girls exploring
the house as we worked our way from room to room.  They were fascinated,
and not a little saddened, that I'd lived alone in this empty, echoing barn
for almost two years.  I'd done what little maintenance I was capable of,
mainly checking the windows were tight, the attics were dry, and the roof
wasn't leaking, but for the most part I'd done nothing except close all the
doors and lock most of the shutters to prevent the sun fading the fine
Burmese teak floorboards, something my father had been almost paranoid
about.
   All the downstairs doors had fairly new locks, courtesy of Nicky, who'd
been forced to replace them all one summer, so the house was as secure as I
could make it.  My own room used to be a lady's dressing room back when the
house was built in the early nineteenth century, an adjunct to one of the
bedroom suites, and I used it because it was right in the middle of the
house and only had a small window, so draughts were minimal, and it was
small enough to keep warm fairly easily.  The main bedrooms were huge,
draughty caverns, with tall windows and high ceilings, not the kind of
place I relished spending a cold winter evening in.
   As we worked from room to room, I once again noticed Rick and Yasmin;
something about their behaviour didn't seem quite right, not a usual
brother/sister thing, but with my limited knowledge of how things worked or
were supposed to be, I couldn't put my finger on it, or understand the
things they weren't saying.
   What I could see was the two of them almost completely wrapped-up in
each other, and I began to resent that; why should he have something that
was so far out of my ken, but which he could be so at ease with.  Shari
eventually noticed my building resentment, and pulled me unobtrusively to
one side to talk to me.
   "Let it go Bobby; Yaz needs Ricky, he's good for her, and she needs him;
he was her big brother before you came along, just give her time; she'll
soon be able to be as close to you as she is to Ricky.  It's good to see
her trusting someone other than me, please don't do anything to hurt that!"
   I hung my head in abashed shame at that; she was my younger sister, he
was my younger brother, if they were close it must be a good thing; at
least they had each other, hell they probably needed each other right now,
all these changes must have taken their toll on both of them, and here I
was, letting my father do my thinking and resenting for me all over again.
   I looked at Shari in apology, and she smiled as she smoothed my hair
back out of my eye.
   "Don't take it to heart, Bobby," she murmured, "I felt exactly the same
when Ricky first showed up, but I soon realised she needed him just as much
as she needed me, but in a different way.  She'll soon think of you the
same way.  She already admires you tremendously, you know!"
   I must have looked more than a little skeptical, as Shari smiled at me
and smoothed my hair back once again.
   "Oh yes, Bobby; you lived here all alone in this great, empty, creepy
place, working your heart out for a pittance, struggling to keep a roof
over your head, and succeeding, eking out a living by eating barely enough
to keep yourself alive, no-one to care for you or care about you, lonely
and alone, but never giving up or giving in; oh yes, she admires you, her
big brother!  So do I...!"
   I smiled in embarrassment at that, and Shari grinned back at me, again
flipping that pesky lock of hair out of my eye.
   "I need a haircut!" I grinned, glad of the opportunity to chage the
subject.
   "No, don't do that, I like doing this!" she smiled, once more sleeking
my hair back into place, making me smile once again.
   "You really should smile more, Bobby!" she said seriously, "You really
are gorgeous when you smile, much better looking than Ricky!"
   Gorgeous?  I'd been called a few things in my life, especially by school
kids as I shovelled up the filth out of the gutters and off the pavements,
but 'gorgeous' wasn't one of them, and I could feel my cheeks burning as I
flushed.  Shari reached over and patted my knee.
   "Maybe after tomorrow you'll have more to smile about, eh?  Don't worry
Bobby, things have a way of working themselves out, you'll see; until then,
you have me, and Ricky, and Yasmin.  She'll start talking to you soon, she
knows you've changed, she just has a little more to be wary of, so give her
time."
   My ears pricked up at that, and my curiosity was piqued.  What was she
wary of?  I had to know.
   "Shari, what do you mean, why is she more wary?  I know you both had to
watch what my father did, what happened to her that made it so different?"
   Shari leaned in and whispered in my ear, and what she told me nearly
made me vomit as the full sick impact of it burned into my brain; my father
had tried to rape her, he'd actually tried to rape his own youngest
daughter while he was drunk, to 'break her in' as he put it, so his friends
could enjoy her, and it was only through sheer luck she'd managed to get
away; how could he do that?  Truly he was a psychopath, or a sociopath, or
a fucking demon, or something equally non-human, because no normal man
would even contemplate that, let alone threaten it, and to try to do that
to his own daughter...
   Shari nodded at the pair of them as they sparred and laughed together,
oblivious to our conversation.
   "Now do you understand why she needs Ricky?  He's her safety and
protection, things she needed to feel just as he came along.  You'll come
to mean that to her too, I promise; like I said, she likes and admires you,
she just has to learn how to trust you, just as she did with Ricky."
   I let it go; Yaz wasn't snubbing me, she had serious trust issues, and I
couldn't blame her one iota, not after what I'd just heard.  It occurred to
me that I'd have to work to gain her trust; Shari would have to help me
there.  I grinned as I heard myself finally admitting that I needed the
help of another person; perhaps I really was changing after all!
   When we decided to go to bed, Rick and I walked the girls to their room,
ensuring they knew where our rooms were in case they need us at all, and
nothing would do but that I must check all their windows again thoroughly,
just to make sure they were fully secure; after what I'd heard earlier, all
kinds of protective instincts were bubbling up inside me, and that puzzled
me, but in a good way.
   I realised that I was beginning to care about someone else other than
myself, and it didn't help that Shari's face intruded into my thoughts
increasingly often; as I lay in bed that night, every time I paused to
think about what we'd discussed, my thoughts wandered to images of her
face, her eyes, her lips, the way she tossed her hair back over her
shoulder, and the scent of her, that light, flowery fragrance that trailed
her everywhere.  It confused me that I couldn't shake the increasingly
intrusive images of her from my thoughts, nor did I want to.  I eventually
fell asleep in the wee hours, too exhausted to think about her any longer.
   The following day was organised chaos as the huge moving vans arrived
early from London and disgorged all of the stuff Yaz and Shari had put into
storage; beds, carpets and rugs, dressers, chairs, tables, wardrobes,
couches, and armchairs, as well as crates of bed linens, blankets, quilts,
curtains, the contents of what must have been a substantial house poured
out of the vans, and the movers lugged it all around according to some
pre-conceived plan that Shari and Yasmin had.
   Rick and I made ourselves useful, but the real taskmaster was Shari, and
she was obviously enjoying herself immensely as she directed the burly
movers to put the furniture where she'd decided it was supposed to be.  At
last, by the end of the day, we had a furnished house again, and the place
was looking almost as it had before everything was confiscated.  There was
enough to equip every bedroom with a bed, a dresser and a wardrobe, and the
movers even took away the battered old beds Ricky and I were using when
they put the new ones in our rooms; I'd elected to retain my little
dressing room bedroom; it suited me and I was comfortable in there.  The
girls decided to unpack all their clothes and re-populate the wardrobes
another day; we were exhausted, so after an order-in pizza dinner, we made
for our respective bedrooms.
   I was awakened in the early hours by Shari.  I came awake as soon as she
lightly tapped my shoulder, noting in passing that she was wearing just a
short tee-shirt and light sleep shorts.
   "Bobby, Yaz is missing, I can't find her anywhere!  I woke up and she
was gone!  Bobby, help me find her, please, I don't where to start looking
in this place, it's still so confusing in the dark!"
   Of course I jumped out of bed to help, how could I not?  I knew this
place intimately; I knew I'd find her in double quick time, always
supposing she was still in the house.
   I picked up a torch and led the way; most of the light bulbs had blown
and been scavenged from around the house, and we'd not replaced them yet,
so most of the house was in complete darkness.  With Shari holding my arm
we began at the top of the house, opening door after door, flashing the
beam around inside, then going on to the next.
   There were a lot of rooms, spread over 3 floors; the family who'd
originally built this place way back when must have been very wealthy, and
had created a series of suites, presumably one for each member of the
family and a guest suite, so there were six bedroom suites, as well as the
attic rooms, which had originally been servant's quarters.  Each bedroom
had a private bathroom and a dressing room; as we searched from room to
room, all I could think was it must have been hell for the servants to
clean every day.
   Finally we came to the first floor above the ground level, and started
at the back of the house, where Rick had his bedroom.  As we approached his
room I could see soft golden light around his door, which I thought was
odd; it was the middle of the night, so all should have been in darkness.
As we approached the door we heard voices; Yaz and Rick, talking softly.  I
was about to knock when Shari put her hand on my arm and motioned me to
silence; she appeared to be listening intently, then gasped softly and
pressed closer to the door.  As she touched the door it swung open silently
just a couple of inches, but it was enough to see the occupants clearly. 
At first I couldn't make sense of what I was seeing, then suddenly it all
swum into focus.
   Yaz was on her knees, naked, her body bathed in the golden light of half
a dozen flickering candles.  Rick was lying on his back, and Yaz was
sliding her lips over his thick erect penis, fondling his scrotum as she
avidly sucked his cock.  Rick in turn had his hand between her thighs,
rubbing her and making her moan around the cock she had in her mouth.  As I
watched, they came to some sort of mutual agreement, and Yaz pulled him out
of her mouth, smiling and sighing as Rick pulled her closer to dip his head
down and suck her erect nipples.  From their familiarity with each other's
bodies, their murmured words and fond caresses, I knew this wasn't the
first time they'd done this, and as Rick sucked her nipples, Yaz sat
astride him, holding his face between her two hands,
   "You know what I like, Ricky, do it now, baby!" she muttered, Rick's
hands sliding around her waist to drop down and pull her buttocks apart. 
As Yaz slowly impaled herself on his cock with a groaning sigh, I saw Rick
slide a finger into her tight, pink little anus.  As I watched, Yaz leaned
back, resting her hands on Rick's thighs and forcing his finger deeper
inside herself as she pumped and ground against him, her eyes squeezed
tight shut as she approached her orgasm.
   When it came, she shuddered and quivered on top of him, Rick squeezing
her breasts and pinching her nipples as Yaz ground against him.  Eventually
she slumped forward onto him, kissing him wildly, then pulling back to grin
at him.
   "Your turn, baby!" at which she slid off him and knelt on the bed.  Rick
knelt behind her, his hands slipping around her torso to hold and squeeze
her lovely, brown-tipped little breasts, kissing her shoulders before he
thrust into her, and again, his lean muscular body rippling with every
thrust.  Yaz exhaled sharply in time to his thrusts into her, all the time
murmuring to him, words of love, of encouragement, telling him how much she
loved him, how much she loved what he was doing to her.
   Shari stood transfixed as her younger sister and brother fucked each
other, their bodies slapping together as they pumped and pounded, now
giving little cries as they moved together in perfect synchronisation.
   Shari's eyes were fixed on the drama being enacted in front of her, as
were mine, my thoughts full of how beautiful Yasmin was, how perfectly my
younger siblings' bodies matched each other in their intensity and complete
immersion in what they were doing.  I was so transfixed, like Shari, that I
didn't even notice when she moved up against me, never taking her eyes off
Rick and Yaz as they fucked, completely oblivious to their surroundings and
to their audience, until I realised she'd backed into me, and that I was
solidly, painfully erect, my cock a lead bar in the confines of my shorts.
   Shari began slowly undulating against me, never once taking her eyes off
the two younger siblings as they pounded away together.  I thought she was
unaware what she was doing, until her hand slipped down to slowly trace the
outline of my erection with her fingertips, feeling my size as she rubbed
slowly, agonisingly against me.  Her other hand slipped down to the
waistband of her sleep shorts, then inside to begin rubbing herself as she
watched her sister.  Her movements were trance-like, almost done without
conscious volition, an automatic and instinctive reaction to what was
unfolding not ten feet in front of us, her bottom lip caught between her
teeth as she stared in rapt fascination.
   In as much a trance state as her, my own hands came up and around her,
to cup her breasts and feel the taut nubs of her stiff nipples as they
strained against the material of her tee.  As Rick and Yaz pounded,
grunted, slapped and sighed together, Shari and I rubbed, squeezed and
pressed, our hands moving automatically as our bodies responded to what was
happening in front of us.
   Rick began groaning as Yaz gave a high-pitched, sighing moan, and we
watched in awestruck fascination as his flanks flexed and tightened as he
emptied himself into her, his hands squeezing her nipples as he climaxed in
response to her own orgasm.  Shari in turn suddenly turned and pressed
herself against me, her arms around me and the curve of her pubis pressed
against my solid erection as she rubbed herself against me for all she was
worth.
   My hands dropped down to instinctively clutch and squeeze her soft, firm
little buttocks, pulling her crotch tight against mine as our lips crushed
together, and as we kissed so ravenously she climaxed, her body shaking and
her breath softly hissing as she continued to rub and undulate against me,
the hard little fingertip of her erect clitoris rubbing directly against my
cock through the material of our sleep shorts.  I couldn't help myself, it
was too much for me, and I came like a geyser, spunk bursting out of my
over-stimulated cock to drench the insides of my shorts, more than I think
I had ever managed before when I'd masturbated.  The force of my
ejaculation was almost painful in its intensity, and I really think I would
have buckled and fallen if Shari wasn't pressed against me, still
shuddering in the throes of her own orgasm.
   At long last my head stopped spinning, and I was able to breathe again,
a long, shallow intake of breath that alerted Shari that I was back in
control of myself again.  She stepped away from me and took my hand,
motioning me to silence as we softly padded away down the corridor and back
to my room.  As I opened the door to go in and clean myself up, a slight
pressure on my arm made me turn back to her.  As I did, she stretched up
and kissed me once, softly, gently, on the corner of my mouth.
   "Good night Bobby...and thank you!" she whispered, and then she was
gone, back to her room to wait for Yaz, I supposed.  I went into my room
and cleaned myself up as best I could before flopping into bed; this had
been one weird night, and I still wasn't sure I believed any of it, or
understood what had just happened, but now I was too tired to care, and I
had to get up in the morning for work.
   I was up and out of the house before anyone else was stirring; I had to
be at work for 7 a.  m., so I had to leave before 6, as it was a long walk
to the Street Sanitation depot where I was based.  All day as I worked
cleaning the streets of Carlisle I thought about the strange, almost
surreal episode with Shari last night; I was having trouble defining what
exactly we'd done, and why, and if it would happen again; had I had sex and
not realised it, or was it just a...a...thing, something to pass over and
forget, to get past and never think or talk about ever again?
   I was like a zombie as these thoughts occupied my mind all day, my work
routine almost completely mechanical, ingrained patterns and habits
piloting me through the day while my mind was somewhere else entirely.  As
the day progressed I realised I wasn't exactly straining at the leash to
get back and have to look Shari in the face again, or Rick and Yasmin, come
to that; I had a suspicion, bordering on near certainty, that they'd take
one look at my face and know that I'd been watching while they did
something so very personal and private.
   At last, I could stretch out my day no longer, and I had to go home;
fortunately I had an hour's walk, so with any luck I'd be able to slip in
while they were having dinner and go and have a shower before I could think
of facing them; I didn't want them to see me anyway, I knew I must smell as
bad as I looked and I really didn't need an audience.
   Luckily I had some change on me, so I was able to buy a Cornish Pasty
for my dinner, I'd eat in my room while I thought about how I was going to
deal with what I'd seen, and what I'd done, and where I was supposed to fit
Shari and Yaz into my world after what Rick and I had done with them; I may
not have known much about life, but I did know that definitely wasn't the
sort of thing you were supposed to get up to with your sisters!
   By the time I got home I was just too dog-tired to really care anymore;
I could hear the others talking in the dining room, so I went up and locked
myself in the bathroom while I indulged in a long, hot, utterly luxurious
shower, revelling in the feel of the hot water as it relaxed and calmed me.
To lie on my bed afterwards and not have to think about or interact with
the others for a while was as restful as it was going to get, but I knew I
couldn't avoid them forever.
   I think what was most confusing to me was where I fitted in all this;
Shari had Yasmin, Yasmin had Rick, but I had no-one; I wasn't part of that
particular equation, I was the nettle in their bunch of roses, and I felt
like I had no place in their family dynamic.  I sighed as I thought about
how they'd become a family before they ever came here, and it was too late
for me to fit into whatever they had going on here; I'd been alone for so
long it had become my way of life, and I couldn't fit into theirs, I was
sure of it; family really meant nothing to me anymore.  Whatever had
happened between Shari and me last night was almost certainly a one-off,
there was no way it was going to happen again, and that thought
inexplicably saddened me.
   I was awakened by someone gently shaking my shoulder.  As I came awake I
saw it was Shari, and my first muzzy thought was that she wanted me to help
her find Yaz again, before I came fully awake.
   "What, what's the matter, is something wrong...?" I began, but she shook
her head.
   "Bobby, why didn't you come and eat with us tonight?" she asked softly,
and I looked away.  She looked at the nightstand and picked up the remnants
of my pasty.
   "Bobby, what's wrong, we cooked a nice dinner, all the family ate
together, everyone except you.  Why didn't you join us?  Please tell me, we
missed you, I missed you!"
   I sighed and sat up, Shari immediately brushing my hair back out of my
eyes.  I gently shook her off; this was going to be hard enough without her
touching me as well.  Her eyes widened as she pulled her hand back, the
look of concern in her eyes replaced by one of apprehension.  I didn't beat
about the bush.
   "Shari...Shereen, I'm never going to be part of this family, not in the
way you keep trying to make me.  You, Yaz, Ricky, you were a family before
you ever came here, and you can't shoe-horn me in somewhere and pretend
we're a single unit, because it wouldn't be true.  I don't belong with the
three of you, and I don't know how I can ever be one of you.  I don't have
a role to fill; Yaz has her older brother and her older sister, both of you
protect her, and she looks up to both of you, so you don't need me; all I'd
ever be is an outsider, looking on and never really being a part of
anything.  What I said before still feels true to me; I have to go and find
something of my own, what you've got now doesn't leave any room for me, and
pushing my way into your family will eventually make you hate or resent me.
I'm sorry, Shereen, you really have only one brother, and it's Ricky.  Now
please, I'm really tired and I have to be at work in a few hours..."
   Shari looked at me with huge eyes, her lip quivering.
   "But Bobby, last night...!" she began, but I cut her short.
   "Last night was a mistake, can't you see that?  You keep pushing this
'brother' thing on me, but brothers don't do that with their sisters, and
if I'm not your brother it had even less meaning; it was just because I was
there, not because it was me; it may mean nothing to you, but if I'm really
your brother, then we did a really wrong thing and it can't happen again;
that's why I have to leave."
   Shari looked at me as two tears ran down her cheeks.
   "Oh Bobby, last night was wonderful, and it was because of you!  Don't
leave us, you're our brother, you're my brother, and this is your home,
we're your family and you're supposed to be with us, where you're safe. 
Until we came here, part of us was missing; that was you, we needed you to
make us complete.  Ricky told us all about you, how hard you worked, for so
little, but still you never gave up, and Yaz and me, we both knew we needed
to have you with us.  We didn't come here to show you how close Yaz and
Ricky and I were; we came here to find our brother and put him back where
he belongs; in the middle of his family, all of us together, not the three
of us and you!  We love you Bobby, when you can believe that, you'll find a
place waiting for you, believe me!  You've been alone and in need for too
long Bobby, now you have all of us, and we have you.  Don't leave us Bobby,
we need you!"
   She leaned over and hugged me, her cheek soft against mine, and her
breath soft and warm in my ear.  When she pulled away I felt the dampness
on my cheek from her tears, and smiled at her as she wiped her eyes with
the heels of her hands, then looked at me quizzically.
   "What we did last night, didn't you like it, Bobby?" she asked me
softly, catching me off-guard.
   I had enjoyed it; it was the first encounter I'd ever had with a girl;
the only thing that soured it for me was that the girl in question was my
sister; other than that, it was just perfect.  I looked away, unable to
meet her gaze.
   "Shari, I'd be lying if I said no, but you're my sister; brothers don't
do things like that with their sisters...!"
   Shari smiled at me.
   "So what about Ricky and Yaz, then?  What about what they were doing? 
Bobby, if you were hurting me, or I was hurting you, or one of us was
forcing the other, then it would be wrong; but no-one did, we did what we
did because it was what we wanted, and it felt good!"
   Shari sat down next to me and slid her arm around my waist so she could
rest her head on my chest.  My arm came up instinctively around her
shoulder, holding her against me.  When she spoke again, it was softly,
like she was saying something that she only wanted me to hear.
   "Bobby, I liked having you make me feel good, I want you to keep making
me feel good, and I'll make you feel the same.  Why can't we keep making
the people we love feel good?  Yaz needs Ricky, and she needs me, but I
need to have you there too; I felt it the very first time I saw you.  I
meant it when I said you were my brother, and I mean it now.  Please don't
leave me, not when I need you.  Yaz was frightened, but she had me, and I
made it alright for her, but I was frightened too, Bobby, I was frightened
the whole time, and I had no-one; I need someone to make it alright for me;
I need my big little brother to care about me and stop me being frightened
too!"
   I realised she was crying, and without thinking I hugged her, letting
her cry against my chest, her tears wetting my tee-shirt as she cried
silently.  Eventually she stopped, my hand slowly rubbing her back as I
tried my best to soothe her, to take the fear and sorrow away.  Finally she
sighed and sat up, looking me in the eyes as she spoke softly, earnestly to
me.
   "Our father did a lot of harm to us, to all of us; he really was an evil
man, but you're not him, you're nothing like him, no matter what you
believe he's done to you.  You think he's made you into an outsider, well
you're wrong; there's a whole lot of things waiting inside for you, Bobby,
all you have to do is want them; we want you to come in and be warm, be the
part of us that's missing!  We all have a past we'd rather forget, but we
can't do that; it's part of us, but that doesn't mean it has to tell us who
we are for the rest of our lives.  Bobby, we can have a future, all of us,
as a family, let the past go so you can have a future with us, with your
family!"
   Her words were spinning and echoing inside me, and I could feel the
truth of them, and her sincerity; she really did need me, and it was a
strange and not unpleasant feeling; to be needed, to have another soul
actually need me to care about them.  My fears and feelings of isolation
and rejection simply melted away as this wonderful girl spread her soul out
for me and invited me to wrap it about myself, the realisation that I could
be part of something as simple, as profound, and as warm as a family
suddenly filling me.  Shari was my sister, and I realised I loved her, her
appeal to me for protection and support kick-starting something inside me,
those protective instincts I had just discovered rearing-up again and
making me determined to keep my sisters, my family, safe from harm at all
costs.
   Shari watched as my inner turmoil resolved itself, finally smiling as I
smiled at her.
   "Okay, you've convinced me!  I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, I didn't
mean to, this is all...so new to me; Rick comes home, and he brings my
sisters with him, sisters I never knew I had, and I find out things about
my family that I wish I'd never heard, but most of all, I find my sisters
are smart, brave, loving, and truly, truly beautiful; at least my father
got one thing right in his whole poisonous life!"
   Shari blushed and hugged me again, laying her cheek against my chest.
   "Hold me, Bobby, please..." she sighed, and of course I did, lying back
down so she could lie next to me, spooned against me with my arm around
her. I had no ulterior motive for holding her like this; I had to get up
for a long day's work in a few hours, and this was the most restful way. 
Shari obviously realised she was safe with me, pulling my arm further
around herself into a more comfortable position.  Her warmth, the restful
position we were lying in, I was starting to drift away when she suddenly
turned to face me so she could hug me closer.
   "I meant what I said yesterday, Bobby!" she whispered; "I'm still your
big sister, and big sisters look after their little brothers!  Now go to
sleep, you've had a long day; don't worry about anything; I'll watch over
you!"
   I grinned to myself at her words, but I have to be honest; it felt so
nice to be held and lulled to sleep, so comforting, something I had no
memory of ever being done to me before, and I fell asleep with the sound of
her breathing and her hand on my waist, her warm body pressed against mine,
no sexual overtures or seductiveness, just simple warmth and comfort from
her.
   I woke just ahead of my alarm, as I had always done, to find I'd rolled
over in my sleep and was now lying spooned against her.  Shari was fast
asleep, still fully dressed but with a corner of my covers pulled over
herself and her arm still thrown protectively around my waist.  I slid out
of bed as stealthily as I could so as not to disturb her, and pulled the
covers up over her.
   "...get up in a minute, mummy..." she muttered, then sank back into deep
sleep again.  I silently collected my clothes and slipped into the bathroom
to wash, shave and brush my teeth.  Once finished, I dressed in there so as
not to disturb anyone, but I guess I wasn't quiet enough; as I came out,
the girls' bedroom door opened and Yaz peered out.
   "Shari...?" she whispered.
   "No, it's me, Shari's still asleep." I whispered back, noting the look
on her face.  "Don't worry, she's fine; she fell asleep watching me, she
must have been really tired, so I left her there; you can check on her if
you like, just don't disturb her!"
   Yaz made to go to my room, but stopped when I spoke to her again, never
raising my voice above a soft whisper.
   "Yaz, I just want to say sorry for scaring you or making you feel like I
didn't want you here, or for anything else I might have done; I didn't
understand, but I do now; Shari explained it all to me, and I'm sorry I
didn't say this before, but I want to, now; I'm glad you came here, I'm
glad my sisters are here, and I promise I'll always look out for them!  I'm
sorry I made you afraid of me, I didn't do it on purpose, and I'll never do
it again.  Can you forgive me?"
   Yaz grinned as she stretched up on tip-toes to kiss my cheek.
   "Shari said you'd be as sweet as Ricky, you just had to work some things
out for yourself first, and she was right.  I think I'm going to like
having big brothers as sweet as you two!"
   A huge weight seemed to lift off my chest, and I realised I'd almost
stopped breathing as I waited for her answer.  More than anything in the
world right now I needed the good opinion of this beautiful girl, my baby
sister, and I felt almost light-headed with relief when she smiled and
actually spoke directly to me for almost the first time, no longer wary of
me.
   "I wish you didn't have to go to work today, Bobby!" she whispered, "you
look so tired all the time, you need some proper rest and proper food; you
didn't have any dinner last night, and now you've got to go and work all
day long; Shari's worried about you...and so am I; stay home, Bobby,
please, let us look after you; at least you'll get something to eat!"
   I was strongly tempted to go along with her, but I'd already committed
to working that day, so I had to regretfully decline her request.  Yaz
looked sad, then once again stretched up and planted a kiss on my cheek.
   "There'll be a proper dinner waiting for you tonight, so you be back in
time to eat, okay?  The least Shari and I can do for you is make sure you
get some proper nourishment after what you've been living on, so be here
for dinner, Bobby, that's an order!"
   I spent that day in a haze; all the unpleasantness that usually
accompanied the work seemed to pass me by, and the day seemed to fly by;
before I knew it, it was knocking-off time; this time, instead of dawdling
along, taking my time cleaning and storing the sweeping machine I gave it a
quick once-over, threw my coverall in the laundry chute and hurried home.
   Yaz hadn't been lying when she said there would be proper dinner waiting
for me; she and Shari had produced a meal fit for a king; roast beef,
melting Yorkshire puddings, golden, crisp roast potatoes, steamed cabbage,
roasted carrots and parsnips, thick, unctuous, red-wine gravy, and a
home-made apple and blackberry pie for dessert.  Dad had never laid on such
a spread for us; he'd always believed that excess was a sinful waste of
finite resources, and that enough was as good as a feast; at least, that's
what he told us as we ate cheap food, and not too much of that, either;
it's only with hindsight I can see now that he was a tight-fisted
cheapskate who begrudged spending any money on quality foodstuffs,
preferring instead to buy the very cheapest cuts of meat and finding ways
for us to eke it out from meal to meal; he was a very rich man, he could
have indulged us, but he never did.
   I will admit here that I gorged myself; the more I ate, the more a
smiling Shari or Yaz piled on my plate, and I was in heaven.  Every so
often I'd look up and see Rick smiling at me, realising with a small shock
just how handsome he really was; no wonder Yaz was in love with him.  As I
looked at Ricky I realised something else; apart from his dark hair and
grey eyes, he had a strong resemblance to Nicky, that same grin, that same
quizzical lift of his eyebrow, the same habit of raking his hair back with
his fingers.
   I was suddenly almost overcome with remorse for the way I'd always been
with my big brother, the feeling hand in hand with the need to see my big
brother again, to see him and speak to him again, to hear his voice, and
most of all, to tell him just how sorry I was.  Shari noticed the change in
me, her glance taking in my watching Rick as he talked, laughed and sparred
with Yaz, and her own lifted eyebrow as she silently asked me what was
wrong.  I shook my head slightly, not wanting to disturb Rick and Yaz as
they talked and flirted, and Shari nodded slightly, acknowledging that we'd
speak later.
   After dinner, Shari volunteered me to help her clear up, Rick and Yaz
grinning as they dodged that particular bullet and hurrying away to stretch
out and watch TV in the family room before they got volunteered anyway.
   "What's the matter, Bobby?" she asked me as we washed and racked the
dishes and silverware, "what happened in there?  You suddenly looked like
you'd seen a ghost, what happened?"
   I looked away, unable to face her.
   "I suddenly realised just how much Rick looks and sounds like Nicky; and
when I realised that, I knew I wanted my big brother back, even if just for
a minute or so, just long enough to tell him how sorry I was for being such
a prick; we made it easy for Nicky to leave; we made him an outcast in his
own home, just as much as dad did; Nicky was one of the nice guys, in
hindsight I know now he tried to connect with us, and we snubbed him every
time, we pushed him away, and we watched while our mother took him because
we didn't want him and we didn't want her.  It's no wonder they were so
close; he needed her, she needed us, but we didn't need her, so she and
Nicky became outcasts together.  I'm so, so sorry, Shari, I fucked-up so
bad with Nicky, and I know people don't get second chances, but I'd really
like to have one with Nicky, because I really need him right now!"
   My words felt like stones in my throat, and my heart was like a lump of
lead; Yaz and Shari had taken away the anger and the bitterness inside me,
but that had left room for the guilt and sorrow to flow in; guilt over what
we'd stood by and let our father do to our mother, guilt over the way we'd
snubbed, alienated, and pushed away our big brother, and now loss and
sorrow for both of them, that they were both gone forever, and we were
largely responsible for that.
   I felt more than heard Shari step up behind me, and then her arms were
around my waist as she hugged me and pressed her cheek against my back.
   "Bobby, tell me about Nicky; I want to know about my big brother.  Tell
me what he looked like, what he sounded like, what he liked, what he did.
Nicky is my brother too, and I want to know about him.  Talk to me, Bobby,
but not here!"
   I turned around and she took my hand and led me back into the sitting
room, Yaz and Rick huddled together on the couch watching TV, or so they'd
have us believe; their flushed faces and bright eyes told another story
completely, and Shari looked at me, again with the raised eyebrow, and I
shrugged; I didn't see any need for them to sneak around, we already knew
what was going on.
   Shari pulled a hassock in front of both of them and sat on it, looking
at both of them, a hand on each of their knees.  Both of them looked
apprehensively at her, and I think they guessed what was coming.
   "Yaz, Ricky, it's OK, Bobby and I, we...know, about the two of you,
about how you feel about each other...and what you've been doing.  Before
you say anything, let me have my say.  First off, Ricky, do you love my
sister, and remember, she's your little sister too, so what do you say?"
   Rick looked at me, at Shari, then Yaz, staring intently into her eyes.
   "Yes, God, yes, more than anything!  I love you Yaz, and one day I want
to marry you!  Is that enough for you, Shari?"
   Shari looked at Yaz, and again quirked her eyebrow.
   "And what about you, baby, what do you have to say?"
   Yaz looked at Shari for a long moment, then slipped her hand into Rick's
and turned to him.
   "Ricky, I love you, and I always will.  Shari, I love him, and he loves
me, and we want to be together, and if we have to leave, we will, but we're
staying together!"
   As she spoke, Rick's arm slipped around her shoulder and pulled her
close to him, while Yaz looked at me to see what I was going to say.  Shari
also looked at me, again with a slight lift of her eyebrow, obviously
feeling that it was time their big brother spoke to both of them.  I sat
down and grinned at them, watching the tension drain as I did.
   "Rick, Yasmin, you're both adults, you're both over eighteen, so what
you want to do is entirely up to you.  Shari and me, we're not your
parents, just your older brother and sister, and you don't need our
approval or permission, or anything like that.  Speaking as your big
brother I have to say I don't have any objections to you being together;
actually it's none of my business, this is your home, and I don't want you
to leave; I only just got you!  We saw you...together, the other night, by
accident, we weren't snooping or anything, and what I saw was a young
couple who looked and sounded like they were in love.  Rick, what Shari
says goes for me, too; Yaz is still your little sister, and mine too, so
don't mess up!  And while I'm on the subject, I have to say I admire your
taste!"
   Yaz dimpled at me, and Rick looked relieved, grinning that grin at me,
the one that Yaz obviously found irresistible, and, I realised, suddenly
looking uncannily like Nicky, just how I remembered him from the very last
time I saw him.  I had to grin back as I continued.
   "If you want to be in love, that's none of my business either, but this
is your home, why not be in love here.  I think Shari feels the same. 
Anyway, you don't have to go, this place is big enough for the two of you
to have your own space and we still get to keep this family together; I
think we all need each other right now, so what do you think?"
   Rick nodded at me, his eyes fixed on mine, while Yaz climbed off the
sofa and came over to hug me and kiss me on the top of my head.
   "Thank you for understanding, Bobby!" she whispered, then rubbed noses
with me and giggled before flopping back down next to Rick.  Shari smiled
and winked at me, telling me I'd handled it correctly, then got up off her
hassock and came to sit on the arm of my chair, leaning against me with her
head resting on her hand along the back of the chair.  She looked over at
Rick and Yaz, who were deeply involved in a whispered conversation, and
cleared her throat meaningfully.
   "Before we came in here, Bobby and I were talking about someone who
should be here with us; Bobby was going to tell me about Nicky, our older
brother, I think you two should hear this too.  Bobby?"
   Slowly, reluctantly at first, but encouraged by the occasional gentle
pat or rub on my arm, I began talking about the best one of us, our brother
Nick.  I spoke about how we'd never wasted an opportunity to make life
difficult for him, tattling to our father, making-up stuff about him,
grinning between us like idiots when our father slapped or punished him,
making sure that he got the tail-end of everything, making demands on our
father's strict budgets that left nothing spare for him.  We always had
good clothes, but now, when I told it, I realised that Barbara had had to
scrimp and save to stop him walking around in the same threadbare clothes
year after year.
   And yet he'd tried to get through to us; as I told the tale, instance
after instance where he'd reached out to us suddenly flashed into view,
recognised by hindsight, but rejected out of hand at the time by the
selfish, bratty, piggy little vermin we'd been.  It was a searing story for
me to tell, because now I recognised what a misery we'd helped to make of
that boy's life, and yet he never lost his sense of humour, he never forgot
how to laugh and joke, even if we didn't get him half the time; Barbara
did, and the sound of the two of them laughing about something in the
kitchen always infuriated us, because it meant he still had something we
hadn't taken away from him yet.
   By the time I was finished, Yaz was looking at me with a shocked
expression on her face, and Rick had his face buried in the crook of her
neck, his own shoulders shaking.  I was wrung out by the whole thing, but
it had been cathartic, I felt cleaned out for the first time.  I slumped
back in the chair, emotionally drained, shocked and ashamed of myself,
finally discovering what it feels like to look the Gorgon in the face; I'd
dug deep down inside myself and pulled out all the stuff that had
accumulated, the parts of me that should never have been, and showed it all
to the light, and while I felt deeply soiled by what I'd finally admitted
to, paradoxically I also, finally, felt clean for the first time ever.
   Yaz pulled Rick closer, smoothing his hair as she whispered to him,
soothing him while Shari and I watched as my brother paid his own price for
what we'd allowed to happen to Nicky.  I felt a soft hand on my forehead as
Shari curled her arm around me and pulled me close to her.
   "Poor baby, carrying that around, no wonder you feel so isolated.  You
can let all that go now, Bobby, you shared it and it's gone now.  From what
you say about Nicky, I think he's forgiven you, he seems like he wouldn't
have carried any of this around with him.  One day we'll find him, or he'll
come home, you'll see.  Have you any pictures of him?  I'd like to see what
my big brother looks like."
   I shook my head, but Rick looked up, his eyes wide, and sat bolt
upright, like he'd just had a severe shock.  He got up and almost ran out
of the room, and I heard him run upstairs, all the way up to the attics.  I
wondered where he'd gone, and why, when we heard him running down the
stairs again.  He burst into the room, and dumped a pile of photograph
albums on the coffee table.
   "These were packed away in Barbara's...our mother's stuff; there are
pictures of Nicky in there!"
   Shari picked up one of the albums and began leafing through it.  I
looked over her shoulder and immediately felt my eyes pricking; there she
was, Barbara, our mother, my mother.  She looked so young, so beautiful,
picture after picture of her, some alone, but mostly shots of her with a
sweet, cherubic little blonde-haired boy.
   "Nicky?" asked Shari gently, and I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
Rick was also leafing through an album, tears on his cheeks as he took in
picture after picture of our mother, laughing, smiling, holding Nicky close
to her, his face open and trusting, holding hands with his mum, OUR mum.  I
leafed through another album, again, pictures of our mother, of Nicky,
laughing, studying, playing, and running, but no pictures of us, not one.
   I looked again at Shari, my own eyes filling as I realised my mother had
taken no pictures of Rick or me, how could she have, she wasn't even
allowed to tell us she was our mother.  One look at her face in those
myriad pictures told me how much she'd loved and cared for Nicky, and the
knowledge that I could have had that as well burned like acid in me.  Shari
reached over and gently thumbed my eyes, her own eyes two wells of sorrow
and compassion.  She nodded at Rick, slumped back in his seat, his eyes
closed as tears wet his cheeks, while Yaz leaned against him, rubbing his
chest, whispering urgently to him, and motioned to me to follow her into
the sitting room.
   Once in the sitting room she sat me down and sat next to me, pulling me
round until I faced her.
   "Bobby, everything you said earlier, did you mean it?  About finding
Nicky, I mean?"
   I just nodded, still mentally reeling from the confession I'd made, and
Shari smiled at me.
   "Good; let's do that then, let's go find our brother!  Let's find him,
and bring him home, and put our family back together!"
   I looked at her in astonishment.  I really had no idea how we'd
accomplish that, where we'd even start; the trail was four-years cold, and
getting colder by the day, but something about her made me feel sure she'd
find a way; already I was beginning to accept Shari as the head of the
family now, and her confidence and cool competence was going to be a major
asset to this family now.  I grinned back at her, and she looked closely at
me.
   "You know, Bobby, when you smile like that, you look an awful lot like
Nicky too; different hair, paler eyes, but still almost a dead-spit of him;
he was gorgeous, and so are you!"
   I had to laugh at that, this was the second time she'd called me
gorgeous, and it was still funny, but she wasn't laughing.
   "I meant it, Robert Davies; you are truly handsome, you should smile
more often, it suits you!  I used to think Ricky was handsome, and so he
is, but you're the one with the looks in this family, you better believe
it!"
   Now that I was cringeing with embarrassment, she stood up and opened the
door into the family room, and pulled up with a soft gasp; intrigued, I
stepped up and looked over her shoulder, to see Yaz sitting astride Rick,
his hands tightly clenched around her pert little bum in her stretch jeans,
her arms around his neck as they enthusiastically 'sucked face' as the
phrase puts it, Yaz grinding her crotch against Rick, their lips glued
together, both of them oblivious to the rest of the world.  Shari looked up
at me, then slowly shut the door again.
   "Wow, they didn't waste any time did they?" she grinned, "looks like
I'll be alone in that big room tonight, unless...!" she grinned up at me
again and pushed the door open, Yasmin and Rick both jerking around
guiltily.
   "Shari, I'm...we...  we were...!" she stammered, Shari just grinning at
her until she ground to a halt and looked at me in mute appeal.  I just
shrugged, and sat down, deliberately taking no notice, letting her know
that I didn't think she was doing anything wrong, and letting Shari field
this one.
   "Yaz, we told you, this is your home, and if you and Rick are serious
about each other, well, Bobby and I have nothing to say in the matter; your
choices, babies!"
   Yaz looked stunned, and Rick looked directly at me.
   "So, Bobby, if Yaz and me want to...be together, tonight, you're gonna
do, what, nothing, is that right?"
   I looked him right in the eye.
   "Got it in one, Rick; I told you; you and Yaz are adults, what you do is
your business, this is your home, both of you, and if you want to be
together tonight, or any other night, you certainly don't need my
permission or my approval!"
   Rick and Yaz exchanged glances, then stood up, much stretching and
phoney yawns suddenly in evidence.  I had to grin, there was no need for
all that pantomime; they could just as easily have said "well folks, we're
off to have a fuck now, don't wait up!" and neither Shari nor I would have
batted an eyelid...
   As they were trooping out, Shari called out to them, a wicked grin on
her face.
   "Use our room, Yaz, Ricky's only got a twin in his room, the Queen-size
is much bigger!"
   Even I saw the backs of their necks flush at that one, and the grin on
Shari's face was worth a million bucks.  Of course, that meant she had
nowhere to sleep, and I asked her where she planned on sleeping.
   "Don't worry, Bobby, I have a plan!" she twinkled back at me, making me
feel very uncomfortable for a second or two.
   I pottered around, picking up and straightening up, until Shari slapped
me lightly on the backside with a rolled-up magazine.
   "Go to bed, Bobby, you've had a long day!  Just one thing; take the day
off tomorrow, we need to talk and make some plans, and we need you here for
that; trust me, you're going to like it.  Goodnight, baby brother!"
   Somewhat bemused at being sent to bed, I thought about the evening, and
what we'd achieved, and where were going, and was just about to turn off
the lamp and go to sleep when there was a light knock on my door.  Before I
could answer, it opened and there was Shari, once again wearing that
ridiculously short bathrobe, long, endless legs very much on display.
   "Is there something wrong...?" I began, but she shook her head.
   "No, everything's fine, it's just...I can't sleep, not alone in that big
room upstairs; it's so creepy up there all alone!  Shove over, Bobby,
you've got a room-mate tonight...if you don't mind?"
   Yes I minded, not when she looked so completely desirable, and I really
didn't think she should be climbing into bed with me, not when she was a
sneeze away from being naked, but all my objections died in the back of my
throat when she dropped her robe; underneath she had on the shortest
cut-off tee-shirt and tiny, sprayed-on boy shorts, and all I could do was
gawp at how beautiful she was, how lithe and willowy, how outrageously sexy
she looked right now.
   "Move along Bobby!" she smiled, and I scooted over, mouth still hanging
open at this vision who wanted to climb into bed with me, actually wanted
to; I wanted to pinch myself to check I wasn't dreaming, that she'd somehow
invaded my mind and this was just an erotic dream, but then she slid into
bed next to me and she really was there, warm, and soft, and smelling
divine.
   "That's much less scary than being all alone up there!" she murmured as
she huddled up against me, spooning against me and shoving her delectable
rear into my lap, which wasn't a good idea; I'd had the makings of a
respectable erection from the moment she'd first slipped into my room, and
now, with all the added stimulation, I rose fully to the occasion.  Shari
seemed not to notice, but then she began pushing herself against me, slowly
at first, and at first I thought it was just her getting comfortable in her
half awake state, but then things changed -- radically.
   I was just getting used to the feel of her peach arse jammed against my
solid cock when she turned around and pulled herself against me, her arm
around my waist and her lips an eyelash away from mine.
   "That's better, Bobby, don't you think this is more comfortable?" she
murmured, her mons pressed right up against my erection.  I didn't trust
myself to speak, as I was still trying to make sense of what she was doing;
she must have been able to feel me in my current state, Christ, it was
nearly poking me in the chin, but all she did was wiggle slightly against
me, a soft groan escaping from me as she did that.
   "Bobby, relax, you're all knotted up, and so tense...!" as she said
that, her hand slid down and brushed against me, making me groan again.  I
still wasn't sure what she was doing, but whatever it was, it was basting
me slowly but surely in my own juices.  I was in a haze of arousal tinged
with guilt, and then I felt her hand on me again, her fingers curling
around me as she held me through the material of my shorts.
   "You really are so tense, Bobby, you need some help here..." she
murmured, her hand squeezing rhythmically as she breathed softly against my
lips, her breath sweet and fresh, and then her tongue flicked out to
lightly lick my lips, one quick flick followed by a small peck of a kiss
full on my lips.  My mouth sagged open as I realised she was trying to
seduce me, and if the state of my cock was anything to go by, she was
succeeding!  My hand slipped around her waist of its own volition, then
slid down to cup her tight little bottom, squeezing gently as I explored
the tight, firm little bum I'd admired just a couple of days ago.  It felt
like she'd been teasing and taunting me forever, could I really only have
met her three days ago?  I pulled her closer, her lips now almost against
mine, and Shari smiled, and took that last step, pressing her lips against
mine as her tongue insinuated itself between my lips to rub lightly against
my own.  I was astounded; this was my first real kiss, and it felt amazing,
wonderful, incredible, like nothing I could ever have imagined or dreamed
of, and I pressed forward, wanting to keep doing this with this lovely
girl. No more feelings of guilt troubled me; I was in bed with a gorgeous
girl, who apparently wanted me, all I wanted to do was whatever she wanted
to do, anything to relieve the ache in my solidly erect cock.
   Shari broke our kiss, to kiss my neck, my throat, the hollow of my neck,
while I slid my hand up the back of her tee-shirt to feel the warmth of her
silky back, then back down to cup and squeeze her marvellous little
buttocks again.  Shari tugged at my own tee-shirt, and I realised she
wanted me to take it off, so I did, and she immediately attacked my chest,
kissing me in a line from the hollow of my throat to my navel and back up
again, before once more kissing my lips.  I tugged in turn at her
Tee-shirt, and I could feel her smile against my lips as she leaned away
from me.
   "You're learning, baby!" she smiled, whipping her top off and giving me
my first view of her small, beautiful breasts, round and firm, topped by
delicate brown nipples at least half an inch long and looking deliciously
tempting.  I don't know how long I stared at those beauties, undecided as
to what to do, so Shari made my mind up for me.
   "Suck them Bobby, lick and bite them, I like that, do it for me Bobby!"
she smiled, shaking her shoulders, making her delectable nipples dance in
front of me.  I reached for her and she pushed her breasts into my
outstretched hands, her nipples hard and rubbery against my palms.  As I
rubbed those firm, rubbery little points she sighed in pleasure, arching
her back to push them even more into my hands.  Instinct took over, and I
began to squeeze and lightly pinch those solid peaks, making her sigh and
wriggle even more.
   "Bite them, Bobby, suck them, please!" she begged, and I obliged,
leaning down to take one in my mouth, enjoying the feel of the hard rubbery
nub against my tongue.  I rasped it with my tongue and felt Shari shudder,
gasping as she did so, so I did it again, harder, feeling an even bigger
shudder, and a muted " Ooohh!" from her, so obviously she was enjoying what
I was doing to her.  I took the other nipple in my mouth, did the same
thing, and the same response from her, but I really rang the bell when I
sucked hard on the nipple, as she'd asked.
   "Ooohh God, yes, like that, Bobby, keep doing that, oh it feels....!"
she groaned, arching her back to push her nipple even harder into my mouth.
   I was in heaven; I'd never seriously expected to ever be in this
situation; I'd resigned myself to the fact that girls probably weren't
going to view a minimum-wage street-sweeper as boyfriend material, so a
sex-life comprised of my right hand was what was in store for me, and the
girls and situations in the girlie mags were only ever going to be
wank-fantasy material, and to now find myself in bed, mostly naked, with an
exotically beautiful girl who acted like she wanted me, well, it didn't get
any better than that...
   And then it did.  Shari pulled away from me, smiling at my confused look
to lie down and hook her thumbs in the waistband of those tight little
shorts, and in one swift glide slid them off and dropped them on the floor,
giving me my first view of her smooth pubic area, her labia puffy and pink,
the tip of her clitoris just beginning to peek through from under its hood,
and the clean, fresh, sweet smell of her arousal all reached down inside me
and clicked my limbic system into high-gear, making me want her more with
every passing second.  My cock was like stone, painfully erect, something
she noticed right away.
   "Take your shorts off, Bobby, I want to see this!" she murmured, and I
was so in thrall to her I obeyed, even though I'd never been naked in front
of anyone before in my entire life.  I knelt up on the bed and fumbled with
my shorts, suddenly modest, but Shari solved that by just pulling them
down, her eyes widening as my cock swung free, only about seven inches and
quite thick, but nothing like the columns of man-beef I had seen in porn
mags.  Shari, however, seemed more than satisfied with it, to judge by her
sparkly-eyed comment.
   "Oh Bobby, that's beautiful, I can't wait...!"
   With that, she bore me over backwards, her lips glued to mine as her
hand squeezed and fondled me, until she settle into a gently rhythmic
pumping motion, lightly stroking me as she kissed me.  When she thought I'd
had enough, and had fired me up enough, she threw her leg over me to
straddle me.
   "We'll go this way Bobby, better for you, for your first time!" she
smiled as she leaned down to lightly kiss me, just a brush of her lips
against mine, while my eyes widened as I realised she was talking about
having sex with me.  At first I was almost paralyzed with apprehension;
what did I do, how did I do it, supposing I got it wrong, supposing it hurt
me, or hurt her, all these thoughts scurried through my mind, and I could
feel the panic building, my chest tightening as my breath came in short
gasps.  Shari obviously picked this up, and leaned down once again to look
me in the eyes, her own eyes huge and luminous.
   "Hey Bobby, it's OK sweetie, don't worry about, just relax baby, you'll
like it, I promise, there's nothing to worry about baby, just trust me!"
   So saying, she kissed me again, a longer, more satisfying kiss, and once
again, more or less under their own volition, my hands clasped and held her
firm, bouncy little buttocks, each one a marvel and a joy to hold as she
kissed me so wonderfully.  As we kissed, I felt her hand on me, holding me,
and then the sensation of wet warmth against the head of my cock, more
heat, and then the sudden clasping tightness as she took me into herself.
The feeling was so incredible, so outside of anything I'd ever experienced,
or imagined, or even thought possible, that I groaned out loud in my
extreme pleasure.
   "Ooohh God, that's so good!" muttered Shari, raising herself up to slide
all the way down on me, her breath hissing as she worked herself up and
down on me.  I was so mind-blown that it took me a few seconds for it to
sink in; I wasn't a virgin anymore!  So this was what it felt like, it was
just so...so...incredible!  Now I felt what Shari was doing, and that too
was a revelation.  Her hands were resting on my chest, and she was slowly
pumping herself up and down on me as she swivelled her hips, like a rodeo
rider, the combined motions alternately squeezing and caressing me, and I
felt myself begun to come to the boil.  Shari must have felt it too,
because she leaned back and nipped the base of my cock with her
fingernails, the sensation immediately backing me down.
   I slid my hands down and along her long, smooth, satiny thighs, engaging
myself in the feel of her, her warmth, the sensations she was giving me,
and when I reached up to cup her breasts and tweak her nipples, she placed
her hands over mine, pushing them against her breasts as she swivelled and
gyrated above me.  I rubbed and squeezed her breasts even more, as she
obviously liked it, and I was rewarded with her speeding up her movements
and squeezing my cock with her inner muscles.
   I couldn't hold back much longer; we'd probably only been doing this for
a couple of minutes, but it felt like a whole lifetime had passed, and all
that existed for me was this beautiful girl and what she was doing with me.
As I watched her, I could see a flush spreading down her neck and slim
throat, to blush her chest and shoulders, and her movements became firmer,
faster, more sure; she was building toward something, and so was I; that
gathering feeling in the place behind the base of my cock was telling me
that I was near, and I began moving with her, pushing up against her as she
ground against me, instinct finally taking me in hand and showing me what
to do.
   "Yesss, ooohhh yesss, yess, like that baby, yesss, yesss, YESSS!" she
screamed, her pussy clamping tightly around me as she orgasmed.  This was
too much for me, and I came explosively, spunk bursting out of me in hot
jets deep inside her, pulse after pulse, as Shari shook and trembled above
me, her hands clamped onto mine as I grasped her breasts tightly, still
rubbing my palms against her stiff nipples.
   At last she stopped shuddering, slumping down on me, our mixed
heartbeats thundering together at the force and depth of the orgasm we'd
just shared.  Eventually Shari recovered enough to lean up and kiss me
softly, gently, sweetly.
   "You're mine now, Bobby Davies!" she grinned, "If you think I'm letting
you go after that you're sadly mistaken!  You were wonderful, baby, thank
you!"
   I kissed her back, and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly
against me.
   "Thank you, Shari!" I grinned, "thank you for showing me, and for being
so wonderful, I'm not letting you go either, you're mine now, too!"
   Shari twinkled at me, and kissed me again on the lips, then once on the
end of my nose.
   "Well, now that's finally settled, tomorrow we need to either get a
bigger bed in here, or move rooms!"
   I woke in daylight, and immediately panicked; I was supposed to be at
work!  Then a soft sigh made me stiffen, and memory flooded back as a warm,
soft hand slipped around my waist.  I turned around gently to see Shari
asleep next to me, her face calm and relaxed, and utterly, stunningly
beautiful; with her dark Titian hair spread in a mass of tumbled waves
against the crisp white of the pillowcase, and her long, sooty eyelashes
contrasting against the creamy whiteness of her cheek, she looked like a
painting by one of the pre-Raphaelite masters, serene, beautiful, almost
ethereal in her repose.  I wondered that someone as special, as lovely, as
truly wonderful as she was could feel anything for someone like me,
especially after such a short time, but she seemed sure in what she wanted,
and, much to my eternal astonishment, that was me.
   She seemed to sense my scrutiny, after just a moment her eyes flickered
open, and she smiled sleepily at me.
   "Hello baby!" she murmured, her hand sliding up my chest to cup my chin
and brush my lips with her fingertips.  I responded by sliding back down
into the bed and hugging her to me, feeling her warmth as she draped her
leg over my hip and rubbed her foot up and down my leg.
   "Mmm, this feels nice!" she smiled, "You're so nice and warm, Bobby, I
could lie here like this all day!  Come closer baby, warm me up some more!"
   She turned and spooned against me, while my arm went around her to cup
her soft, firm stomach, holding her gently as she snuggled back against me.
It felt so wonderful to lie there like that, no pressure, no need to do
anything except enjoy the comforting warmth and drift slowly into a light,
relaxed, almost trance state, truly at peace for perhaps the first time in
my life.
   Shari's breathing slowed and deepened, telling me she was asleep again,
and I smiled happily as I reflected on how much she'd turned my life
around, in just a few days yanking me back from that edge I had been
looking over and waiting for the right time to jump, and transforming me
from a bitter, uncaring loner to someone who was, at last, more concerned
about other people than himself.  She'd saved me from myself, a cliché, I
know, but true all the same.
   I must have finally fallen asleep again, only waking up when my erection
finally prodded me awake, the urge to wake Shari and explore some more
fighting with the need to relieve a bladder that felt swollen beyond
belief; the call of nature won, and I slid carefully out of bed and into
the small bathroom in the main bedroom via the connecting door.
   When I returned, Shari was awake, her eyes still blurred with sleep, but
her smile sweet and welcoming.
   "Come back to bed, Bobby, you're lovely and warm, much better than a
hot-water bottle, and I don't want to get up just yet!" she grinned, and I
smiled back, sliding in next to her.  As I did, her arms wrapped around me,
warm and inviting, warming me up from my brief exposure to the morning
chill.  Once again, she snuggled up against me, her lips soft on my neck
and the base of my throat.  I was still having trouble taking in what had
happened; three days ago I'd never seen or heard of this girl, then all of
a sudden she's my sister, and now she's my bed-mate, and it made no sense;
but then, I didn't care; she was frankly gorgeous, she was obviously into
me, and she actually seemed to like me for myself, as though she could see
or sense a part of me that made her feel I was worth her time and effort, a
part of me that was still locked away from me.
   While I was thinking about her, a detached part of me had been running
its hands over her smooth, soft skin and revelling in the feel of her warm
femininity, the rustle of her hair, the warmth of her breath, and the feel
of her smooth stomach pressed against mine as she hugged me close.  I could
feel myself getting hard again, obviously she could as well, as she gave a
little wriggle, rubbing her damp labia against me, her nipples stiffening
as they poked into my bare chest like two little baby fingertips.
   "Bobby...!" she murmured, and as I wrenched myself back to reality, her
lips found mine, and we stayed that way for what felt like hours, her lips
moving with mine as our tongues rubbed, fenced and tasted each other.  As
we kissed her hands began to work on me, just the touch of her fingers
enough to draw me up to full mast, aching, pulsing with the need for her.
   "Make love to me, baby, let me hold you this time!" she whispered.
   She lay back and pulled me to her, her lips drawing me in, and before I
knew it, I was kissing her while I squeezed and massaged her breasts,
enjoying the feel of her nipples between my fingertips, and the way her
hand squeezed and pumped me.  With a little assistance from her, I managed
to find and lightly rub her clitoris, feeling the little pearl grow and
stiffen as I, somewhat hesitantly, frigged her, enjoying the little sounds
she made as I did something she especially liked.
   We kept on like this for a while, both of us exploring and learning what
the other liked, until Shari let go of me and pulled me completely on top
of her.  As I did so, she opened her legs so I was lying between her
thighs, our kiss unbroken.  Instinct now took over, with me raising up on
my elbows as Shari reached under to take hold of me and rub my sensitive
head a few times against her wet gash, making me groan with the feel of her
wetness and heat against my already overheated cock-head.
   "Now, Bobby, please...!" she murmured, her eyes closed and her lovely
rosebud lips parted as I slowly pushed forward, instinct again showing me
what to do.  Shari hissed in satisfaction as I slid into her, the sensation
of her hot tightness surrounding me almost knocking me out as my brain
tried to overload.
   "That's it Bobby, yesss, like that, ooohhh, yesss!" she breathed lifting
up her hips as I slid back out then pushed into her again, instinct pushing
and priming me, showing me what to do.  The sensations I was getting were
out of this world, plus the visual stimulus of Shari, her beautiful eyes
fixed on me as she urged me on, her parted lips an incitement to kiss and
taste, her breasts dancing as I thrust into her with ever-increasing force
as my confidence in what I was doing grew.  Added to this the feeling as
Shari rhythmically clenched and relaxed her pussy as I thrust into her,
alternately squeezing and releasing me, and I was fast approaching orgasm.
   Shari could feel it too, and her thrusting against me became firmer,
faster, her pussy tightening more and more around me, and her eyes shutting
as she clamped her lip between her teeth.  We continued like this, pumping
together faster and faster, my head nearly exploding with all the new and
wonderful things I was feeling, until at last I couldn't take any more.
   "Shari...I'm...Oh God!" I gasped as I came, spunk hosing out of me in
what felt like an endless torrent, long pulses that went on and on.  Shari
screamed into my shoulder, her pussy clamping down tightly on me, causing
me to ejaculate even more as I realised that she was orgasming too, that
I'd made her come.  We strained against each other as our mutual orgasms
flared and peaked, then slowly died back, finally slumping down to lie
together, drained, sweaty, but very, very happy!
   Shari finally stirred, kissing the base of my throat and then reaching
up to pull me down for a very hot, sexy, and invigorating kiss.
   "Thank you, Bobby, that was incredible, that's why I'm keeping you!" she
smiled, stroking my hair as my hands once more explored and touched her,
enjoying all over again the silky, satiny feel of her skin, her warmth, and
the firm plumpness of her sexy little bottom, each cheek a perfect handful
for me.
   "Like those, don't you!" she grinned, "All in good time, baby, all in
good time!" a statement that puzzled me somewhat, meaning nothing to me
just then, but I ignored it as I concentrated on fondling, squeezing and
touching this beautiful, exotic, ivory-skinned goddess who'd decided to
share my bed.
   Shari was doing a little exploring of her own, her hands coming back to
my cock and balls again and again, holding, gently rubbing, squeezing
lightly, all the while kissing me.
   Of course, with all this stimulation, the inevitable happened; I grew
hard again, Shari wrapping her hand around me and pumping gently while she
kissed me hotly, then moving down my neck to my chest, then kissing further
down my stomach until her lips brushed the head of my cock.  I stared in
disbelief; was she really going to...?
   Shari kissed up and down my by now pounding erection, then looked
directly at me, and, with a slinky, cat-like smile, slid her lips over the
end of my throbbing cock.  I groaned as the sensation of her hot wet mouth
and her probing tongue once again nearly overwhelmed me, my eyes squeezed
tight shut in ecstasy as she licked and sucked me, everything she was doing
rushing me to orgasm again; I gritted my teeth and held back as best I
could; I wanted to enjoy this!  Shari obviously sensed, or felt, some of
the struggle in me, and began to suck in earnest, her cheeks hollowing as
she suctioned me, but when she squeezed my balls and jammed her tongue into
the furrow in the tip of my cock, I lost it completely, once again a
torrent of spunk bursting out of me and into her avidly sucking mouth. 
Shari swallowed every drop, sucking as I filled her mouth with pulse after
pulse of spunk, draining me, until I had no more left.  She sucked the last
drops out of me, then polished the tip with her tongue, cleaning off every
last trace of the deluge of sperm I'd pumped into her mouth, before finally
licking her lips and smiling at me.
   "That was lovely, Bobby, you taste delicious; I'm definitely doing that
again soon!" she smiled, sliding back up to hug me, her lithe, warm body
once more plastered against mine.  I was starting to blur-out; two intense
orgasms had wiped me out, but there was something I had to know.
   "Shari, that was...incredible, I never thought I'd...thank you, that was
just amazing!"
   She grinned at me.
   "Anything for my Bobby, anything at all, and I mean that!"
   With that, she draped her leg over me, holding herself closely against
me as she rubbed my chest lightly, a soothing, calming feeling.
   "Shari, do you love me?  Like Yaz loves Rick?" I asked her, and Shari
looked up at me again, a mischievous little smile on her lips.
   "Now how could I, Bobby, you're my brother, the very idea!" she smiled,
and my heart sank a little, but rose again when she leaned up and nipped me
gently on the lip.
   "My Bobby!" she whispered with a little smile, licked my lips, then
cuddled back down against me, her arm curled possessively around me.  I
pulled the bedclothes back up over us, and the last thing I remember before
I fell asleep again was her voice whispering in my ear.
   "You're mine, Bobby, only mine!"
   *
   When I awoke, a couple of hours had gone by.  Shari was still cuddled up
tightly against me, and I was holding one of her lovely springy little
buttocks in each hand.  Shari stirred and her eyes flicked open, her tongue
immediately flicking out to lick my lips again before she smiled at me.
   "Hello baby, had a nice snooze?  It's mid-morning, and I'm hungry, would
you like some breakfast?"
   I nodded, too wrapped-up in her eyes, and the feel of her bum to even
think about conversing with her; all I wanted to do was drink her in and
fondle her!
   "You really like them, don't you!" she grinned, "we shall have to do
something about that!" she grinned, once again whatever she was saying
going completely over my head.
   "You go and have a shower, baby, I'll start breakfast; bacon and eggs
OK? When you get out, give Ricky and Yaz a call as well, they must be
famished too after last night!"
   When I came out from my shower, the house smelled absolutely delicious,
and my stomach rumbled painfully.  I threw my clothes on and knocked on
Yaz' door.
   "Yaz, Rick, breakfast!" and grinned at the flurry of sounds coming from
inside; apparently my younger brother and sister had seized the opportunity
for a little lie-in as well...
   I'd just sat at the kitchen table when Yaz and Ricky clattered in and
sat down, looking bright-eyed and tousled, and Shari started dishing-up
breakfast; she'd done bacon, poached eggs, mushrooms, grilled tomatoes,
hash-browns and fried bread, and made a pot of coffee.  When she passed me,
she trailed her fingers across my cheek, and I couldn't help myself; I
caught her hand and kissed her palm.  She giggled and smoothed my hair back
out of my eyes, and I looked up to see Yaz and Rick staring at us.  Shari
burst out laughing, kissed the top of my head and went to get some milk
from the fridge, while Yaz smiled knowingly at me and Rick winked and gave
me a thumbs-up.
   Once we'd finished, we all cleared up, and then Shari asked us all to
sit back down, as we had some decisions to make.  Rick and Yaz seemed to
know exactly what she meant, but I was completely in the dark, so I just
took a seat.  Shari started the ball rolling.
   "Bobby, as you know, when mummy died, she left her business, all her
assets, and her house, to Yaz, Ricky and me.  We sold everything, you know
we had to leave London, so we got rid of everything.  What we ended up with
is a lot of money, a very large amount of money, and now we had the problem
of what to do with it.  On the way up here, Ricky, Yaz and I discussed what
we'd eventually do, and we've been talking about it since we got here, and
we've come to a decision; Yaz and I know the property world well; we worked
with mummy, we know what to look for, and Yaz is really good at assessing
markets, while I'm more experienced in assessing properties, whether as
living accommodation or commercial premises.  Ricky's a talented handyman,
a very talented one, he understands all about renovations and upgrading,
and spent an awful long time arguing with Borough Surveyors and Planning
people at the council offices, he did all that for mummy, and he did it
really well, so we decided to go back into that world again, only up here
this time, a long way away from London and Robert's old cronies."
   She paused to take my hand between hers.
   "Bobby, this is going to be a family business, and all the family should
be a part of it, so we want you to quit your job with the Council and come
work with us, doing whatever part of it appeals to you most.  You can work
with Yaz, I know she'd love to show you all she knows, or Ricky, he could
always use the help, or with me, I'd love to show you the ropes..."
   Rick snickered at that, then jumped as Yaz kicked him on the ankle. 
Shari just looked at him until he grinned apologetically, then continued
speaking.
   "Bobby, we want you to be part of this; you're our brother, and seeing
you slowly wearing yourself away at that job is heartbreaking; please say
you'll join us, I know you'll be happier working with us!"
   Rick grinned and piped up.
   "What say, Bobby, you wanna work with me?  There's always room for
someone with a strong back and a weak mind!"
   Yaz stood up and walked around the table to me, punching Rick on the arm
as she passed him.  When she came to me, she put her arms around mine and
kissed the top of my head.
   "Ignore him, baby!  I'd love you to work with me, or Shari, or even
Ricky, just so long as you come in with us; I really want my big brother to
share something with me, with all of us, how about it Bobby, are you in?"
   I looked at Shari, who smiled and nodded almost imperceptibly, so I
grinned and reached behind me to pull Yaz into my side.
   "When you ask so nicely, baby-sister, how can I refuse?  Yes, I'm in!"
   Shari stood up and also came over to hug me, nibbling my neck as she
whispered "later!" into my ear.  In response I slipped my hand down to cup
her delectable little bottom and give it a squeeze to let her know I was up
for it.
   Shari sat down and waited for the conversation to slow a little before
bringing up something else.
   "Bobby, Ricky, I know how much you've been hurt by our father, how
betrayed you feel, but there's someone else who needs you, and perhaps you
need to speak to her too.  Ricky told me your mother, Barbara, is buried
not far from here; I think you need to go and clear the air with her, and
maybe tell her a few things, am I right?"
   I caught Rick's eye, and he stared at me for a long moment, then slowly
nodded, Yaz's hand sliding over his where it lay on the table.  I looked at
Shari, seeing only sympathy in her eyes, and nodded too.  I had to think
for a moment before I spoke.
   "We've never been back there since...since the burial; the local church
wouldn't even let her have a funeral because she was a...a suicide, we had
to get a Baptist minister to say the words at the graveside..."
   This was hard for me to go back to, even harder to say; during the short
graveside service, Rick and I had spent most of the time grinning at each
other, making faces, and just generally being disrespectful, and of course
our father had done nothing to stop it; as far as he was concerned he'd
followed form, she was being properly buried, end of story; that it was
Barbara made no real difference to us, it wasn't like she was anything to
do with us...
   The cemetery was only a short way away from the house, Stanwix, a
communal cemetery rather than a denominational one, and I tried to remember
where the grave was; all I could remember was that it had a large, black
granite headstone carved with ornate scrolls and cherubs, with an
inscription carved in Serif and filled in gold, a long flowery inscription
that I could remember grinning at while thinking "Yeah, right!", all about
how much he loved her etc.  etc.
   We hunted high and low for the headstone, but nothing, and had just
about given up when Shari called me over, pointing at a small, new-looking,
white marble headstone.  Cut into it was "Barbara Davies, beloved mother,
taken too soon.  I love you, Mum".  I was astonished; I didn't recognise
this at all, neither did Rick, then suddenly it hit me.  Nicky!  Nicky had
been here, sometime in the last four years, quite recently, judging by the
headstone, he'd replaced that black monstrosity with one that meant
something to him; he was alive!
   It took me a few moments to remember why I was there, the sudden jolt of
guilt at the realisation my big brother was still out there somewhere
tempered by the remorse and sorrow that welled up as I finally spoke to my
mother.  Shari stood with me, her hand in mine as she stood close to me to
shelter from the frigid wind.  Rick stood with his head bowed as his lips
moved, Yaz periodically thumbing his eyes and wiping off his cheeks as he
too talked to our mother.  I don't know what he said, but I asked her to
consider forgiving me one day, I told her that I hadn't earned her
forgiveness yet, but that I would try, and I apologised for being what I'd
always been.  When I finished Shari hugged me, wiping her own eyes against
the front of my jacket.
   "I'll bring some flowers up here tomorrow, Bobby, there's a holder
there, someone must have...!" she trailed off as she bent down and picked
up one of the withered brown flowers from the little vase, showing it to
me.
   "Look Bobby, someone put flowers here..."
   She bent the stem, but instead of snapping, it was pliable, still fresh
inside.  Her eyes darted to mine as she saw that.
   "Bobby, these were only put here a few days ago, maybe a week; Nicky was
here, just a few days ago; he was here, he's still alive!"
   to be continued....
   pics---->> http://bit.ly/1QdQXsD
  
RagDollCh05