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Home - A Short Chapter

December came in a wintry breeze, my favourite time of year other than my birthday. It was always the one day I actually had a family. Even before Brian and Chrissie, when I was living gypsy/nomad life in Scotland with my family, it was the one day all three of us actually got along.

Needless to say, I was pumped about my first pregnant Christmas. Within the first three days of December I had pulled out my horrible white plastic tree from under the May household, set it up in our lounge complete with red and green decorations, and started organising gifts for the kids on Roger's side of the family. I also purchased a small gift for Henrietta Franks, who was still a resident at Great Ormond Street Hospital at Christmas. Amongst all this I still had the time to eat a tray of snowman shaped iced cookies and wear a Christmas sweater every day.

Much to my dismay, the Queen The Game Europe tour happened from November 24 to December 18, returning my boys home to me just before Christmas. I hated being in Roger's house without him. It was so big and empty, too rich and lavish for me to handle alone so when I wasn't decorating or eating, I retreated back to my own house, which I had stubbornly refused to sell until I found someone I could trust with my first love.

The dust was thick, giving my lungs a test as I deep cleaned my house. Everything was exactly the same as I left it, but with half an inch of dirt on it. With the company of Vivienne Florence and Christine Mullen, my house was back to its normal, run down self in no time, making Roger's house feel like a pristine prison. My tattered laminex, the wardrobe full of starched nurses uniforms, the soft colours of my bathroom walls, the loud hum of the second hand washing machine was bringing a harmony to me that no other place could and never can again. This was one of my two homes.

My other home was my first: the home of Brian May and Christine Mullen. My first proper bedroom to memory was there, a simple wooden-frame bed, a bookshelf as tall as Roger filled with lyric books, old notes, ex Brian May textbooks and records, a small chifferobe, and a full length mirror. The mirror had been replaced twice by the time I had moved into my own house, having been destroyed plenty of times with hammers or sometimes my own fists, ashamed of how I looked so much like my parents. I would have given anything to have Brian's nose or Chrissie's eyes, something that set me in concrete as part of their family and not get the strange looks I did when they introduced me as one of theirs. The only selling point was the hair: thick, curly and in your face.

I laid on my own bed, feeling a deep sadness that I knew the house needed to be left behind. That my home was in Roger's house, even though it felt wrong to think that.

"I remember when you first moved in here." Vivienne commented, standing in my doorway. I wiped under my eyes and placed a hand on my abdomen again, hiding my forming tears.

"You were so excited to have a place to call your own, even though I thought it looked like shit. You've really made it a loving home here."

She took the other side of my bed and flopped down beside me. We both faced the ceiling, staring at the Jimmy Page poster above my bed. We spent many nights in that room, talking about what the future had in store. Vivienne wanted to marry a rockstar, have a tribe of kids and a Mercedes. I wanted to be alone. I had planned to be a nurse and a midwife until the day I died, focussing solely on my profession, maybe get a dog or two. We were living each other's fantasy.

"Smile!" A voice chimed from the doorway, a camera flashing our way. Chrissie Mullen flapped the Polaroid print around, jumping on the bed with us. Being surrounded by my 2 favourite women in the universe was heaven.