My Sister - Tindersticks

«Here I am, this is me

I am yours and everything about me, everything you see…

If only you look hard enough»

I never could

Our life was a pillow-fight.

We’d stand there on the quilt, our hands clenched

ready.

Her with her milky teeth, so late for her age, and a Stanley knife in

her hand.

she sliced the tires on my bike and I couldn’t forgive her

She went blind at the age of five.

We’d stand at the bedroom window and she’d

get me to tell her what I saw.

I’d describe the houses opposite,

the little patch of grass next to the path, the gate with its rotten hinges

forever wedged open that dad was always going to fix.

She’d stand there quiet

for a moment.

I thought she was trying to develop the images in her own head.

then she’d say:

«I can see little twinkly stars

Like Christmas tree lights in faraway windows

Rings of brightly coloured rocks

Floating around orange and mustard planets»

«I can see huge tiger-striped fishes

Chasing tiny blue and yellow dashes

All tails and fins and bubbles»

I’d look at the grey house opposite, and close the curtains

She burned down the house when she was ten.

I was away camping with the scouts.

The fireman said she’d been smoking in bed — the old story, I thought.

The cat and our mum died in the flames, so dad took us to stay with our aunt

in the country.

He went back to London to find us a new house.

We never saw him

again

On her thirteenth birthday she fell down the well in our aunt’s garden and

broke her head.

She’d been drinking heavily.

On her recovery her sight returned.

«A fluke of nature,» everyone said.

That’s when she said she’d never blink

again.

I would tell her when she started at me, with her eyes wide and watery,

that they reminded me of the well she fell into.

She liked this,

it made her laugh

She moved in with a gym teacher when she was fifteen, all muscles he was.

He lost his job when it all came out, and couldn’t get another one,

not in that kind of small town.

Everybody knew every one else’s business.

My sister would hold her head high, though.

She said she was in love.

They were together for five years, until one day he lost his temper.

He hit over the back of the neck with his bull-worker.

She lost the use of the

right side of her body.

He got three years and was out in fifteen months.

We saw him a while later, he was coaching a non-league football team in a

Cornwall seaside town

I don’t think he recognized her.

My sister had put on a lot of weight from

being in a chair all the time.

She’d get me to stick pins and stub out

cigarettes in her right hand.

She’d laugh like mad because it didn’t hurt.

Her left hand was pretty good though.

We’d have arm wrestling matches,

I’d have to use both arms and she’d still beat me

We buried her when she was 32. Me and my aunt, the vicar, and the man who dug

the hole.

She said she didn’t want to be cremated and wanted a cheap coffin so

the worms could get to her quickly

She said she liked the idea of it, though, I thought it was because of what

happened to the cat, and our mum