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| Wine in sister | |
| By NeilTollfree | ||||||||||
| 07 January 2008 | ||||||||||
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Puntastic title...I was in a hurry Got this published in the secret attic newsletter, okay so it's not penguin classics or anything but it was quite a kick http://www.secretattic.com/ if you're interested in entering their competition. “Can I have some wine Dad?” I held up my glass. He paused and his eyes flicked towards mum. She shrugged and went into the kitchen. “Go on then, half a glass to see if you like it. If you’re old enough to see Rambo then a drop of Bull’s Blood isn’t going to kill you.” I beamed and held my glass up. “Can I have wine too?” Angela held her glass up in imitation. “Of course not Angela,” I said, “you’re still a baby. We all get wine in glasses, you have to have Um Bongo in a beaker.” She looked at Dad for a ruling, but he was concentrating on the puzzle that fell out of his cracker, trying to separate the two interlocking metal shapes. Angela looked at me so I busied myself reading the back of the box of my new walkman. I casually glanced at her and she was looking up at me, so I took a sip of the wine. My eyes watered a little and my mouth dried out completely. I casually put the glass down again. Angela mimicked me with her beaker, looking at me and then taking a swig of her juice, trying to be grown up. She spilt a bit and I rolled my eyes at her. “Mum, Jason made me spill my drink.” I sighed. “God Angela, how can I make you spill your drink? I suppose I’ve got some sort of telekinetic powers that made you throw squash everywhere?” “Mum, Jason’s a telenetic and made me spill my drink.” “You are so stupid.” I didn’t even look up. “Not now you two!” Dad stood up, as he did so he pulled the puzzle apart without noticing. “It is Christmas Day, and in this house we will practise peace, love and goodwill to all men, particularly me, on Christmas Day. Jason, put that bloody box down. No presents at the table." I reached out and put the walkman on the sideboard. “Angie, show me where it spilt.” My sister pointed at her T-shirt. There was a small orange mark by Smurfette’s hat. “Angie, there’s nothing there, so sit down and stop fussing.” Mum was standing in the kitchen doorway, eating a bag of Cheese Moments. “Honestly Jason, I don’t know why you’re so mean to your sister sometimes.” My mouth fell open. “Excuse me Mother? Me? Mean to her? Haven’t you seen how she behaves? She is constantly taking the mickey. I am older than her you know.” “Oh will you stop being such a pompous arse.” My sister giggled at the mild swear word. “She worships you.” “Mum!” said Angela trying to cover her embarrassment by folding her arms over her head and hiding her red cheeks. “You should be flattered, she’s doing what you do because she wants to be like you.” She dropped the crisp bag in the bin, smoothed her apron and went back into the kitchen “Put your arms down.” said Dad. He was pondering the two, now separate metal shapes. “Your mother’s right you know,” he looked up at me. “She fell for you completely when she was two. We were…where were we love?” “Tenby. In Wales,” called Mum from the kitchen “Tenby. In Wales,” he repeated. “If she was two then you’d have been…” “Eight.” Said Mum. “Eight, that’s right. We were all on the beach and you two were down by the waves. Well, from somewhere a crab appeared. Now Angie had never seen one. Never seen anything like it, scuttling about with its - what d’you call them? - pincers clicking and clacking. She froze as it came towards her. Terrified. You noticed before us and managed to flick it away with a stick - just flicked it off into the sea. I don’t think you thought much of it and you just carried on with whatever game you were playing, but Angie came hurtling over to us and told us about the ‘monster’ you’d saved her from. She thought you were some sort of Superhero after that, has done ever since.” He pointed one of the metal shapes at each of us: “so be nice.” He went to carve the turkey. I nudged my sister, she looked up at me and I winked and slid my glass of wine over to her.
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