This second part tells Georgy's story, what it was like for her growing up with Will, and then takes up their story going forward. The second half is entirely sequel, no back-story.
As always, I caution the reader this is just a story, in my made-up universe that sometimes looks like the real one but mostly doesn't, where things happen the way I want them to, not how they really do, so please just read and enjoy. If you liked it please vote, if you didn't then please tell me why, and if you want to email me feedback or a comment, I do reply to all email comments, just please leave a return email address if you want me to reply.
And many thanks to ChloeTzang for keeping my head pointing generally 'due-reality' most of the time...
BB1958
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Part One: There's Another Georgy Deep Inside
Georgy:
So where shall I start my story? The first time I recognised and managed to say Will's name? Or when I knew for real that Willie could keep the monsters away from me? Or when Willie first made me a secret den to hide in from the thunder-monsters that frightened the life out of me? Or when he left to do his duty (as he saw it) and I was deathly afraid I'd never see him again? They're all different kinds of beginnings, all different parts of the story of different parts of my life, but they all tell the same story; that the be-all and end-all of my world, the pivot on which my world turns, and the one part of my life that is mine and mine alone, is my sweet, brave, kind, gentle, generous, gorgeous Tyler Wilmot, the best and most adorable big brother in the world.
Will was always there, the main focus of my life even if he didn't know it; all my very earliest memories are about him. I distinctly remember when I was a small child, not yet three years old, sitting on his lap and poking my fingers in his mouth while he tried to bite me, and laughing uproariously; it really was the best, funniest game I knew, and Will never tired of playing it with me. Willie and his pretend biting and funny faces were the most important thing I had, only mummy and daddy made me feel as good as he did.
Every time I felt blue, or needed a special hug, Will had it for me; his arms around me, my hand in his, the way he'd pat the seat and make room for me on the couch so I could cuddle against him, all special, enduring memories; when my friends came over to play, after we'd had enough Barbie fashion parades, and doll's-house picnics and dolly tea-parties, Will would be the bear (because I asked him, and he never said no to me) so he could chase us through the house and hunt us down. Mummy only had a couple of rules: no playing in the bedrooms and jumping on the beds, and no chasing up and down the secret stairs, and when the bear caught us, he was only allowed to tickle me, I made sure of that. Everyone else got tagged, but I got tickled; my rules, my Will, my bear, ergo my tickles!
I was scared of thunder; it weakened my knees and rang alarm bells all through me, and only Will knew how to peel me off the ceiling and bring me back to reality. I won't lie to you; when a peal of thunder sounded, only his arms around me made me feel safe, not mummy, not daddy, not even Aunt Kay; only Willie could talk me down and put me back together. He even made me a den, a thunder-shelter to hide from the scary thunder-beasts when they came looking for me, a cave he made out of his blankets and bedclothes and his arms, and I knew when I ran and jumped in there I'be safe and protected because nothing could get me while my Will was protecting me in my secret thunder-shelter.
Mummy and daddy talked about sending Will away to school and I went bonkers-crazy; send him away? Not bloody likely, this was home, this was where he lived, with me, this was where he was staying, end of conversation! They didn't know I was playing under daddy's desk and listening in horror when they were talking about taking my Will, my big bear, away from me, how very dare they! Who was going to protect me if they sent him away? Nuh-uh, not happening, no way, no how!
Will was kind of the same; he knew mummy and daddy were thinking about boarding school for him, and he wasn't at all on-board with the idea; all his friends were here, all his favourite things were here, all his favourite places he and his friends from the local farms liked to play, places where they could build campfires and dens and tree-houses in the woods and build fires to wrap potatoes in foil and bake them in the coals, and build rope-swings. He never knew I knew he'd sneak out after bed-time so he and his friends could go poaching trout, or
scrumping
, stealing apples, pears, and soft fruit from our neighbours' orchards (why, I don't know, we had plenty of the same fruit orchards on the estate right outside the front door) plus I was here, and I wasn't going to let him go anywhere, no chance...
I made myself totally unbearable around mummy and daddy; crying, throwing tantrums, snapping and snarling, flouncing around and having fits of outright brattish disobedience. Oh I worked so hard at making the olds understand just how super pissed-off I was with them for even thinking about putting my Tyler-Bear somewhere I couldn't have him whenever I wanted him. Mummy would panic in the mornings because my bed hadn't been slept in, and then she'd look for me and find me asleep in bed with Will, my Pooh bear with me so I had all my special bears when I went to sleep, making double-sure they couldn't magic him away in the middle of the night. I was taking no chances...
Eventually they twigged that perhaps, just perhaps, sending my pet bear away might, possibly, be a really, really bad idea; chalk one up to the power of nuclear ground-zero level obnoxious brattery...