I tore my eye’s from his dress and panned around his room. “Hey what’s that!?” I said, grabbing what I thought was a silver cigarette lighter from his dressing table.
“Lipstick.” Vincent glumly replied as I haphazardly pulled off the lid.
“Oh.” I said as I twisted the barrel up and down. “Do you wear it?” I asked. As far as I know, the only time Vincent’s worm make-up was when Mother first turned him into Sonia and paraded him around the neighbours’ houses.
“Sometimes.” Vincent replied. “Try it if you want.” he added as I became engrossed in how it works.
“Er… no thanks.” I gulped as I replaced the lid. I was about to put it back but Vincent held his hand out. I passed it to him and watched as he applied it to his bottom lip, rolled it against his top lip and smiled at me.
“It tastes like coca cola.” he claimed.
“Really?” I asked, not that I wanted to find out. OK maybe I was just a tiny bit intrigued, which resulted in me trying it for myself. I followed his example and applied it to my lower lip, before tasting it with the tip of my tongue. My brother told me to roll my lips together first, otherwise I’d just lick it off. “It does a bit.” I said after running my tongue along the inside of my pursed lips and indeed finding a cola taste. “I don’t think it’s my colour though.” I gulped as I looked at my reflection in his dressing table mirror.
Vincent just grinned as I began to suck on my lips to remove it. “If Mother sees it she’ll probably make me wear that dress again.” I said. Vincent told me to use one of the tissues on his dresser to remove it. “Thanks.” I said after wiping my lips and looking at the pale pink smear on the pale pink tissue. “Has it gone?” I asked as I turned to my brother. He nodded. “You won’t tell Mother will you?” I asked.
“Course not.” he assured.
“Thanks.” I replied.
A brief moment of silence was broken when Mother knocked on the door and walked straight in. “I wondered where you’d got to Andrew.” she smiled. In her hands was a small bundle of laundry. Guessing by the occasional pastel colours and lacy trim, it was a pile of Vincent’s underwear. Mother placed it on his bed, right next to me. On the top was pair of yellow knickers with white spots and white satin bow stitched just beneath the waistband. I heard a distant voice say “Pretty aren’t they?”
I felt disoriented and embarrassed as I realised I’d been staring at them. “No!” I gulped. Mother just smiled at me as I felt myself blush. Mother said she’d put my clean undies on my bed. “…so make sure you put them away instead of just kicking them on the floor at bedtime.”
I decided now was as good a time as any to leave. I went to my room and, for once in my life I did put my underwear away. I wondered how Vincent must feel every time he opens his underwear drawer. “It must be awful.” I figured as I visualised my own drawer full of frilly knickers and lacy vests. From the bookshelf I selected my Bumper Book of Tanks & Guns, slumped on my bed and opened it. Imagining driving a tank is far more preferable to imagining a drawer full of knickers. I turned the pages and found myself intermittently glancing at my wardrobe door and visualising the blue sailor dress that hung inside. I wondered what it would feel like, just sitting on my bed and flicking through my books whilst wearing a dress. Would I be constantly aware of it? Is Vincent constantly aware of whichever dress he’s wearing? After all, one isn’t constantly aware of the jeans or jumper they’re wearing… so would a dress be much different. I know from experience that it’s a bit weird, but whether or not one would just get used to it, I’m not sure. Not that I want to find out.
When it was time for Sunday lunch, Vincent and I helped each other into our pinafores, which is also something I can’t imagine ever getting used to. I managed to spill gravy down the front of it and apologised to my mother. “Oh don’t worry.” she said. “Sonia will give it a rinse when you’ve done the dishes… won’t you dear.” she added as she turned to Vincent.
“I’ll do it.” I said as I watched Vincent obediently nod, causing his two little bunches to bounce around his head.
“That’s very nice of you Andrew.” Mother smiled.
