Rag Doll Ch. 07 - Ricky's Family 01

She grinned as she squeezed my hand gently.

"She's happy now, she knows she's got a big brother now, if you'll be that for her, and she's feeling truly safe for the first time ever. If for nothing else, then thank you for that, Richard, you've made a big difference in her, and I'm happy."

She paused to brush my hair back off my forehead with her fingers, a gentle, intimate gesture.

"Even Shereen's coming around, now she's gotten past the memories a little and accepted that you are indeed her little brother, that you're not like that man, and that in your own way you're just as injured and traumatised as she was. Remember one thing; Shereen's always had to be the strong one, the protective big sister, but she needs you too, I can see that, and if you let her, she'll probably care as much for you as she does Yasmin. Both your sisters need you. You may be a complete stranger to her, but there's something about you, and no matter how hard she pushes back against it, Shereen knows you're part of this too, part of her and us.

She shook her head wonderingly.

"She can be so hard-headed at times, and she probably can't even admit it to herself right now, but it's clear to me you being here makes her feel safe too."

She gave me that enigmatic smile again and once more flicked my hair out of my eyes.

"Remember, and keep it top of mind, Richard, she won't let go of the 'big sister' thing easily; she's been the big sister to Yasmin all her life, and now she's going to be your big sister too, and she'll push it. That's just the way she is, so try and not push back too hard; don't let her walk all over you, but give her space to be your big sister, and she'll include you and make sure you know you're part of this family."

This constant harping about the girls always being scared had struck a chord inside me; if my father, the man they'd been afraid of (with good cause, I had to admit, if half what I'd been told was true) was in jail and wasn't ever getting out, what did they have to be scared of? Something she'd said earlier had registered but I couldn't winkle it out, but it gave me a feeling of vague, unformed dread; there was something else here, more evil still waiting to be revealed.

"Why is Yasmin so scared?" I asked, unwilling to ask the question but unable to let it go and Ayesha stared at me, her forehead knitted, before nodding slowly, like she'd had to make a hard decision.

"I told you, Robert Davies, your... her father, threatened to... sell her to his friends, whatever they were, and she doesn't know I know, but once, he nearly... he nearly..."

She paused to clear her throat, her eyes bright and scared.

"She got away, Shereen and her, they got away from him before he could... do anything, but only because he was so drunk... they think I don't know what happened, don't tell them; let them tell you when they're ready.

She drew a deep, ragged breath.

"That's why Yasmin feels so drawn to you, that's why you make her feel safe, because she already trusts you; she sees something in you that makes her believe you won't let anything happen to her. I hope to God she's right... "

The sound of the front door opening put an end to our conversation, along with a warning glare from Ayesha. The sitting room door opened and Yasmin poked her head around the door, her eyes lighting up as she grinned cheekily at me.

"You stayed, good, I hoped you would!" she chirped, "Mummy, is Ricky going to stay for a while?"

Ayesha smiled at me. "I don't know; is Ricky going to stay for a while?"

I stared at her, nonplussed, and Yasmin raised her eyebrow and nodded, so I nodded back.

"Yes, I'd like that very much... if it's not too much trouble...?"

Yasmin stepped fully into the room and I got my very first proper look at her, uncoloured by any state of apprehension or puzzlement, and I have to say I was awestruck; my little sister was gorgeous! Her long, thick hair, flowing in tumbled curls almost to the small of her back was a rich mahogany-red, not Titian, nor auburn, but a lustrous, red-bronze somewhere between the two. Her eyes were like her mother's, a vivid green-hazel, and so bright that, like Ayesha's, they appeared to be lit from behind. Her skin was a pale olive with a faint golden blush, pale and sleek, giving her a lush, exotic look, and she was tall and slender, with a tiny waist and small breasts (and I blushed guiltily as I realised I was thinking about my kid sister's boobs!), her long, slender legs encased in skin-tight jeans that showed off the curve of her hips and long thighs, and her round, firm little bottom.

I realised with a sudden burst of insight just how hot my kid sister was, the thought followed closely by wondering if she had a boyfriend, and a quickly suppressed snap of jealousy at the thought, which made no sense to me; she was my sister, I should protect her, yes, not feel jealous of boys who might be dating her!

"Ricky Davies, you're my big brother, you only just got here, and you look like you need a good feed and a good sleep, so no, it's not too much trouble, we'd be glad to have you here, isn't that right, mum?" she grinned, her grin widening into a big smile when Ayesha grinned back at her.

"You're welcome to stay, Richard, you seem like a nice boy, your sisters and I would be glad of the company. Stay as long as you like."

"Shereen...what does Shereen think, she doesn't like me much..." I mumbled, and Yasmin beamed at me.

"All sorted, Ricky, we discussed this last night while you were out cold, whatever that... that man did, it wasn't you, you're not the enemy here, so she's fine with you staying here, don't worry about her, just let her boss you around a bit and you'll be fine."

"Anything else I should know...?" I asked, and again Yasmin grinned at me.

"Just take it easy around her; she'll let you in, just give her time, OK? You're her kid brother, remember? She's just raring to push you around, just go with the flow."

As if on cue, I heard the front door open, and Shereen call out "Mum, I'm home!"

The sitting room door swung open and Shereen stepped into the room, giving me a quick once over, then, in a classic 'double-take' her eyes locked on my face and her eyes widened.

"Jesus, you look like that... wow, wow, just look at you, it's scary... " she stammered, her face flushing.

Yasmin leaned over and poked my arm, grinning at her sister.

"Ricky Davies, meet your big sister, Shereen Shahida, and Shari, meet your kid brother and my big brother, Ricky Davies; please try not to kill him, I haven't finished with him yet!"

*

Ayesha kept me occupied for the next hour or so talking about Nicky, Bobby, our family life, why I thought dad had made such a big secret out of not letting Barbara tell us she was our mother, but it was gentle, none of the hurt, pain-filled, angry inquisition of earlier. I found her easy to talk to, warm and motherly, and that confused me; heretofore, gentleness and simple human warmth hadn't played a big part in my life, although, on reflection, that was what Barbara had always had for Nicky.

It was a sobering thought that I could have had that too, for want of just a little compassion on my side. The jarring realisation just how easily I'd let what could have been the best thing in my life just slip away hit me hard, and for the first time in my life I cried, mostly tears of guilt, but a with huge sense of loss, too as Ayesha held me close. I did glance up once to see Shereen staring at me, her expression unreadable, but that hard edge was gone, and her eyes were soft and reasonable.

After a time that felt like seconds, but could have been a lifetime, I felt her ruffle my hair gently, and when I looked up, startled, she grinned at me.

"You have nice hair for a little brother, Ricky," she grinned, "later, I'll trim it for you if you like, but it's kind of nice just like this..."

I remembered Yasmin telling me that at some point Shereen was going to make it clear she was my big sister, so I guess that was her way of marking my card. It didn't trouble me, I could get used to having a bossy big sister, especially one as lovely as Shereen!

Yasmin stuck her head around the door and grinned at me, and looked over at Shereen with a quizzical eyebrow raised; Shereen glanced at me and nodded slowly back at her; obviously some kind of conversation about me had been going on, and agreement had been reached, but about what? I soon found out. Yasmin came into the room and tugged my sleeve.

"Come with me, Ricky, I'll show you to your room, we'll get you settled in, then we all need to talk, OK?"

Yasmin ("call me Yaz, Ricky, everyone does...") led me down a flight of stairs into what must have been a basement once, but was now a comfortable-looking lounge area/rec room, with several big, softly upholstered chairs and a large, overstuffed couch, and a big-screen TV and DVD entertainment system, and on one side a small but comfortable guest bedroom with a compact en-suite bathroom.

"We thought you'd be comfortable down here, Shari and I use it to laze around, and mummy had an intercom installed from here to the kitchen so she could call us, so if you need anything just push the big button and whoever's there will answer."

She grinned cheekily and rubbed the material of my shirt between her fingers.

"There are closets in the bedroom, but you don't have any proper clothes, and you can't keep wandering around in these grungy old things, so we're going shopping later, you, me, and Shari; you need some basics and a good haircut, you look like something out of Buttville, the place where style went to die in its sleep, so if you're ready, we'll have some lunch, and then we're heading out to Westfield, let's see about getting you togged-up; you're with us now, strange new brother, gotta look the part!"

I tried to demur, saying I'd work out something but Yaz just looked right through me.

"Shut up Ricky. Shari's decided, and when she decides, it stays decided, so just let her do this; it's part of her saying sorry for going off at you, and she wants to dress you up a little. You're her project now, so just bite your tongue and say 'yes, Shari, no, Shari, three bags full, Shari' like a good little brother. Can you do that and not piss her off?"

I could feel my face flushing, but I nodded.

"I'll try..." and Yaz grinned happily, hugging me closely with her head against my chest. I was kind of puzzled at her sudden affection for me, but it felt really nice, so I shut up and 'went with the flow'.

"Good, now let's get some lunch, we need to talk to Shari and mummy, then we'll head out, and don't look so worried, it'll be fun!"

*

Shopping with my sisters was a next-level experience, in more ways than one; we seemed to run through a dizzying number of stores, names I'd never heard of, crammed with clothes I'd never dreamed of, but wherever we went heads turned and ogled the two beautiful bronze-haired goddesses tugging me from store to store, and I have to admit to more than a twinge of jealousy at the thought of other men looking at my new-found sisters that way; how bizarre is that?

Shari grinned knowingly whenever she glanced at me, like she knew what was going through my head, and even Yaz seemed to be aware, judging from the cheeky grin and tug on my arm whenever I looked at a man looking at her.

"Calm down, hun, it's just guys being guys, nothing wrong with that!" she'd smile, but I noticed she kept her arm through mine. I found that especially endearing, that and the way both girls would suddenly grab my hand and lead me to something they wanted me to look at, or try on, or just hold up against me. This intrigued me. Growing up, I'd hardly ever had fashionable clothes; strictly functional was the most my father would stretch to, and the concept of wearing clothes just to look good was kind of a new idea and hard to get my head around; cheap jeans and plain cotton shirts was all I ever wore, all I everhad, and strictly utilitarian.

However I felt, though, both girls had me trudging in and out of the men's fitting rooms while they eyed me up and down and nodded or shook their heads and sent me to go and try something else, fitting me into a particular image of me they had in mind.

While I was trying on some jeans, I stepped out to see what they had to say, and Yaz was alone, obviously Shari had gone off somewhere, and there was a youth, maybe late teens or early twenties, talking, or trying to talk to her, and she was trying to ignore him. He didn't see me coming up behind him, but the look on Yaz's face told me she didn't want him talking to her, and when he put his hand on her arm is when I stepped in. Yaz looked up at me and grinned.

"Hi babe, you like the jeans?" she chirped, and the guy spun around to look up at me, then up some more, because I was at least a head taller than him. Yaz's expression was unreadable, but I could tell she was unhappy about him touching her, so I improvised.

"So, who's this midget?" I frowned, and the lad gulped, flushing guiltily. Yaz frowned.

"He wouldn't leave me alone, get rid of him, babe!" she scowled so I looked down at him even more unhappily.

"Who said you could talk to my girl? Get lost, pal..." I huffed, and he blanched and stuttered something and literally ran away, while Yaz laughed delightedly.

"See, I knew having a big brother, even a big, skinny one, was a good idea!" she giggled, slipping her arm around my waist while her firm little boobs pressed disconcertingly against me. Shari chose that moment to show up, and laughed along with us when Yaz told her what I'd done. That was the point where I felt I'd finally broken the ice with my sisters.

*

The girls bought me armloads of clothes, mainly jeans and t-shirts, dress shirts, ties, sweaters, and packs of underwear and socks, a nice pair of dress shoes, sneakers, and some warm slippers, and one last thing, in a place called Moss Bros; a slim-cut modern black suit, the first time I'd ever seen a fashionable suit up close, let alone tried one on. When I came out of the fitting room Shari applauded.

"At last, now we know what you look like properly dressed! It looks great, and there's a room for you to fill out a little. You're getting that suit, Ricky, you're going to need it, so don't argue."

When we got back to the house, Yaz spent half the evening hanging, folding, and pressing my new clothes, filling the empty closets and drawers in my new room, and chattering non-stop. When she'd finally arranged everything to her satisfaction, she grinned and hugged me once again, something she'd begun doing on a regular basis, not that I was complaining, you understand!

"There, now you have a wardrobe, please get rid of these horrible old things you're wearing, we didn't get you all this stuff for it to just lie there; it's yours, start wearing it, and that's an order!"

Shari called us for dinner just then, so we headed upstairs. Before we even got to the stairs, though, Yaz stopped me and turned me to face her, taking both my hands.

"Don't ever leave us, Ricky, don't leave me, please? she whispered fiercely, "You're my big brother and belong here with us, with me, and we all need you! Shari needs you, mummy needs you, and... and I need you too. Don't leave me, Ricky, not now you found me; this is your home now, with us, just remember that!"

I followed her upstairs, wondering at what she'd said, about her needing me, what that meant.

*

Ayesha and Shari had cooked an amazing Indian feast, dishes I'd never heard of, but it was hot, spicy, filling, smelled wonderful, and it was delicious. Sitting around the table with her and the girls, eating together, talking and laughing, and passing delicacies around, it struck me that this was how a family was supposed to be. This was how families showed their love and maintained connections, they ate together and spent time together as a family, because this was how families worked, not the dysfunctional parody of a family I'd grown up in, but even with that my mind was still only half on the wonderful meal, and the warm and loving people surrounding me.

I had much to think about, but that conversation with Yasmin echoed and resonated inside me; what was she saying, and how could I have made any kind of difference to her in such a short time? I didn't know; I just didn't understand what was happening here. I knew I still had such a lot to learn, but maybe the fact I knew there was so much I didn't know was a good start, and something told me I had some good teachers right here.

Part 2 Will tell of Ricky's relationship with Yaz, his adoption by Ayesha, and her passing