I thought that the Rory saga had finished quite a while ago – but it has not. Rory is an admirer of Georgina. Georgie. George and to me sometimes Georgette. She is the daughter of my brother Richard and she is my very favorite niece. George is also best friends with my daughter Charlotte. They have been best friends since they were babies and they now go to school together. They have before too. Charlotte is seventeen and Georgie is sixteen. They are young ladies.
They are hysterical.
I have asked Georgie whether it was OK for me to write about this and she said that she wanted me to. She told me that she likes to be written about. Rory's name is however not really Rory. I have changed this to offer him some sort of protection. This protection is mostly from my brother Richard. However heed this Rory.
We know who you really are.
We know where you live.
When Charlotte and Thomas and Benjamin and Georgina were very little my brother Richard and our families lived in the suburb of Stanmore in the inner west of Sydney. In Australia. Charlotte and Tom are mine and the others are my brothers. Our house was number 88 and my brother lived in number 108 in the same street. We lived ten houses apart. We both lived on the even numbered side of the street. This is the way that houses are numbered in Australia. Even numbers are on one side of a street and odd are on the other. I have always found this strange and mysterious and I don't know why this is done.
We both had terrace houses that were more than 100 years old. We restored them. We bought them back to life. Our houses had age and history and character and my brother’s family and mine lived within shout of each other. Literally - not figuratively. That was the best bit. Our families intertwined every day and our children grew up together.
Earlier today Charlotte and her cousin Georgina spent some time looking through and sorting out old photographs of them together as babies. Then toddlers. Then teenagers. Charlotte emailed me a great photo with both of them bouncing on my knee. They were tiny and they were adorable. They were as cute as buttons. Both are now young adults.
They are big.
Charlotte's and Georgie's adulthood is astounding me. They are vibrant and energetic and full of life and they have passion and personalities. They have opinions and emotions and ideas and they are not afraid to voice them. I am delighting in their maturity and insight and them just being so grown. Their potential is enormous.
It is dazzling.
Rory has been an admirer of Georgie's for a while now. I was first alerted to this perhaps seven or eight months ago. My son Tom rang me from Melbourne. He was ranting. Tom was raving. He was pissed off and agitated. Tom wanted me to call my brother Richard and get him to back off. To back off from his mate Rory.
I was in a meeting when Tom rang last year. I was in Tokyo for work and I couldn't take his call. I quickly told him to calm down and that I would ring him back in ten minutes. When I rang back I started off by asking Tom who Rory was for I had no idea. Tom explained that Rory was a mate of his who had been warned off by my brother Richard. Rory had been warned off making any further attempts at romance upon my favorite niece. Tom told me that he felt affronted for Rory's sake and he told me that he wanted my intervention. He demanded it in fact. Tom does this a lot. He demands and rages. It will diminish as he gets older and as he matures and he grows up.
So we hope.
I rang my brother to get his view on the Rory situation and he told me that Rory was a bit of a raucous kid with a track record of trouble. Junior gangster stuff. Richard informed me that he was a wild one and he also looked very rough. Rory is heavily tattooed and pierced. First appearances might frighten some people. It once did me.
My son Tom has a long history of friendships with kids who are a little left of centre and who look different. They lived out of the mainstream. Some very far out. Tom did too for a while and he may still a bit but I don't mind this though. I even quite like it. As long as he is safe and as long as he is happy.
I think that he is.
Tom's friendships with many of these characters has reinforced to me the importance of not judging people by their appearances. Judging by appearance alone is shallow and judging at all is actually mostly unnecessary. The real of people lie within. It lies in character and in behaviour. Looks can be deceptive.
They often are.
Piercing and tattooing in our current generation is just fashion and Art. It is mostly art. I get it and I quite like a lot of it. I think that body art most certainly reflects some of an individual's personality but they do not necessarily define it. I believe that looks can deceive. I told Richard all this but he told me that he didn't care. He told me he didn't give a fuck and he doesn't like Rory and his tattoos and piercings. So there was a dilemma.
There was a saga.
I thought that the saga had come to a head quite a long time ago when Richard wanted to meet with Rory - to discuss his intentions with his daughter who is my niece. My Georgie. Rory chickened out at the last minute because he was scared of Richard. I don't blame him. My brother is passionate about the well being of Georgie and he is protective. This is indicative of his love for his daughter. Georgie is his baby and Charlotte is mine. I don't blame Rory for being afraid of my brother. Richard is big. He is huge and he is very strong and can be scary.
When he wants to be.
I love Georgie too. I love her enormously and unconditionally and eternally. Georgie is bubbly and lively and outrageous. She is voracious and she is tenacious and stubborn. She is LOUD. Georgie loves drama. She is drama. She is gorgeous. Georgie is now reading this over my left shoulder as I write it.
She is curled up on the couch next to me.
Charlotte is cuddled up to me on the other side. She is under a Yak blanket that comes from Nepal. They were cuddled up together before I arrived but I pushed my way in. I am in the middle now - I am a bit squashed and so are they. I don't mind and I don't think either do they. Georgie is giggling and squirming and Charlotte is watching TV.
I have my daughter and my favorite niece here with me. We have been chatting and laughing for hours and we have been talking as adults.
It is heaven.
I am loving it.
I really am.
When I arrived in Melbourne this morning my brother Richard told me that the Rory saga had re-emerged. Rory apparently still has romantic intentions for my niece and he might even be in love. Richard still doesn't like it. I have tried to get further information regarding the current state of play direct from Georgie and Charlotte however they are refusing to discuss it. I think Georgie might have some feelings for Rory but I am not going to push the matter further with her.
She will tell me if she wants to.
The girls have gone to sleep now because they have school tomorrow. I saved this Post and had a bit of a break from writing. I am going to go to sleep myself soon. Everyone else has and it is very quiet in the house. It is also quite late. Only Klawed and I are awake. Klawed is the cat. He is curled up next to me on the couch where Charlotte was. He is laying on the Yak blanket and he is purring. Klawed's purrs sound like a little motor running and when I rub his soft black tummy - as I am doing now - he purrs even louder. I can feel his motor running. Klawed looks sleepy but he is not quite there yet.
He seems pleased to see me.
According to Tom, Rory is quite a nice guy underneath all his bling and despite his checkered past and all his ink. Tom reckons that Rory is actually a gentle and kind soul and he has a very good heart.
He thinks that Georgie could do a lot worse.