When Gregory starts packing, he seems intent on never returning as he packs almost all of his possessions. “You won’t need this much stuff Gregory.” Mother tells him as she unpacks as quickly as he packs. “There won’t be that much storage space in the student halls.” she tells him. Gregory is adamant that he needs to take ‘all’ of his CDs and DVDs, and in spite of Mum’s insistence that he probably won’t have that much free time to get any use from them, he packs them none the less.
“Have fun in the house of freaks!” are the parting words my elder brother Gregory whispers to me as his taxi arrives.
“Yeah thanks Gregory… see you at Christmas.” I reply. He could have been a bit less sneery as he left, I thought, but I guess he’s looking forward to making new friends, going to concerts and living in student halls, free from parental guidance whilst I’m expecting little more than Sonia this and Sonia that whilst barely being noticed.
The moment Gregory left, the vibe in the house changed completely. All the bad feeling came from Gregory’s direction and with his menacing presence gone, things felt a lot more homely. Of course it’s still strange having a sister who’s really a brother, but I’m getting used to that. Vincent’s predicament is well known amongst my friends and acquaintances, but they seem to be more interested in the rumours rather than the facts. The rumours are that my brother is either gay or a transsexual, Neither are true but both sound more likely than the actual truth.
One evening, I’m sat on my bed reading a comic when Vincent enters. He’s wearing a pale pink girl’s T-shirt with a line drawing of Tinker Bell on the front, along with a short ditsy ra-ra skirt and woolly tights with white & pink stripes. In his hands is a large pile of laundry which he starts putting away. “You don’t have to put that away Pete.” I say. “I can do it.”
“Mother told me to put it away.” he replied.
It didn’t seem fair that he has to dress and act all girlie, plus help Mother with all the chores. His hair is tied in a single high ponytail that bounces off his skull as he put my clothes away for me. He asks me about school and enquires about his old friends. I fill him in on a few details before returning the question. “What’s it like at Malham Hall?”
“OK.” he replied. “I’ve made a few friends and the teachers are OK.” he told me.
“Is it just like a normal school… apart from the uniform?” I asked as I sat up on my bed.
“Not really.” he solemnly replied. “Most of the lessons are the same I suppose, but during the breaks we’re not aloud to sit around chatting… well, not the boys anyway.” he explained.
I decide I should at least help him put my laundry away and ask “What do you do then?” as I grab a bundle of socks. Vincent didn’t sound very enthusiastic when he replied, and I could barely believe my ears. “That sounds awful!” I said.
“It’s not that bad.” he optimistically said, but I sensed he was just putting a brave face on. The thought of having to dress like a girl at school sounds bad enough, but having to play games such as hop scotch, skipping and clapping games during their break times seems beyond humiliating.
“Cant you play footie or owt instead?” I asked, sensing the answer would be no.
Vincent shook his head and I noticed how his ponytail continued to swing for a brief moment afterwards. “Ball games are banned in the playground.” he replied before saying that he was never any good at football anyway. “Hop scotch is quite good though.” he added.
“I’d feel like a right girl if I had to play hop scotch.” I said as I bundled a pile of my T-shirts into their drawer.
“I think that’s the idea.” Vincent glumly replied before telling me to put my T-shirts away properly. “There’s no point me ironing them if you’re just going to stuff them in your drawer.”
“Sorry.” I said as I put them away ‘properly’. I thanked him when we’d finished putting away my laundry and Vincent returned the compliment before leaving me alone.
Conversations with Vincent are a rare thing these days, which is probably more down to me than than it is him. I returned to my comic but spent more time wondering what it would be like if it was me that had won the game of Happy Families some three months ago. I wondered if I’d even remember what it felt like to wear boy’s clothes after all that time wearing nothing but skirts or dresses. I imagined what the average school day might be like too. After the humiliating journey dressed as a girl, I guess going through the school gates would be a bit of a relief. Having to play one of a number of girlie games during the break times didn’t sound much fun either, nor did playing netball wearing that really short PE skirt. Vincent tells me that it’s OK playing netball, but I don’t believe him. Then again he did say it was OK in comparison to Dance, which is mostly basic ballet and mind numbingly boring. I guess it’d probably be a relief to don the school uniform after wearing the dance kit… or any of the PE kits for that matter. In spite of all my musings, I was thankful for the fact that I’d never know for sure what it’s like to attend Vincent’s school… but it did intrigue me.
After having a bit of a clear out, Mrs Mayweather (Veronica’s mother) brings round a bag of clothes that Veronica
‘s outgrown and wondered if they might fit Vincent. “There’s a few school blouses, a pinafore and a couple of summer dresses, they’ll probably be too big for her now but…” Mrs Mayweather says as routes through the bag. “…they’ll be good for next year maybe.”
Mother thanks her for the clothes, and says she’ll send Sonia over later to say thank you too. “She’s out with Lauren.” she added. Mrs. Mayweather leaves and Mother puts the carrier bag full of clothes to one side. “Sonia’s going to be over the moon!” she exclaims, casting me a broad grin.
