Divine - R.I.P


If the parrot hadn't died at that exact moment, I think we would have been all right.

"It's a galah!" Stephen shouted, "Not a parrot, a fucking galah, get it right you stupid bitch!"

I wasn't in his good books you could say. But I'd always had a spiky relationship with my brother Stephen, even as kids we were always at each other's throats. Our mum used to say we'd grow out of it when we were adults, she said we'd get along just fine then, but we didn't, not at all.

I think it was because we tended to fancy the same men. Stephen was gay and quite an outrageous character, every day was a party for him, the music at full blast while he danced around the kitchen creating - his words - 'an effervescent fry up' what ever that was. He liked to wear a ruby red satin robe with gold trimmings for such an occasion. Stephen could best be described as flamboyant, a multi coloured, diverse personality that never stopped talking at an extraordinarily high decibel, a bit like a parrot I suppose.

I was thrilled when I met Hugo, he was so handsome and he drove a Porsche. He lived in a spacious apartment bought for him by his parents and I adored him. We'd been seeing each other for a couple of weeks when I introduced him to Stephen.

"What do you think?" I asked tentatively.

"Mark my words, he'll turn." snorted Stephen.

And he did, my Hugo pirouetted in pointe shoes like the fairy queen in Sleeping Beauty, though to call him a fairy queen is an ill suited comparison, Hugo was such a blokey bloke.

My gorgeous He-man and rampant lover Hugo fell head over heels in love with my little brother and promptly moved him into the flat. My boyfriend had dumped me for my brother, nothing to boast about there then.

Hugo liked to impress, for Stephen's 21st birthday he whisked him away to Hawaii for a week of sun, surf and passion, equally exotic was his gift, a Galah, not a parrot, a pink and white galah indigenous to Australia , a sublime show off and ludicrous looking creature, he christened him Divine after the larger than life drag queen/movie star 'Divine, renowned for eating fresh dog faeces in the film, 'Pink flamingos' a must see in certain circles.

I sat frozen in horror when I heard the taxi pull up and listened intently as their heavy happy footsteps climbed the front steps.

I'd planned it in my head, I'd sit him down, pour a glass of chilled wine, have a stewing casserole on the hob for those familial home-cooking aromas, and then I'd break the bad news to him, gently but effectively, I’d tell him that his beloved pet had popped his clogs.

But when the door opened and I saw him there, like a little kid so excited to be home, my face crumpled, revealing a mixture of shock, anxiety and unmitigated guilt, I blurted out the terrible news, damning words tumbling forth as I searched my mind for better ones.

"W W What happened?" asked Hugo grief causing a temporary stammer.

I mumbled something about him catching a slight cold and the vet being closed and I thought the fresh air would do him good and I forgot and I left him out all night and Oh god, I'm so sorry.

For the next few weeks the atmosphere was awful, the magic had ceased almost as quickly as it had begun. I stopped visiting the little love nest, they broke up and Stephen and I drifted apart. He didn't need me and I didn't understand him.

Years and years of bitterness passed, wasted years when Stephen and I were enemies. But things are much better now and I get on very well with Stephanie, it's been a whole 12 months since Stephen's been a post op transexual. We spend hours and hours together, gossiping, cooking, dancing round the kitchen, sometimes we sit late into the night watching the video of that old classic film, 'What ever happened to Baby Jane and when poor bedraggled Bette Davis sits on the beach leaning over the dying Joan Crawford and wrings out that immortal line, "You mean, all these years we could have been friends?" Stephanie and I cling to each other and sob, we're so close now, and in fact we're just like sisters.