A Double, No Triple Life

Chapter 2- Secrets

Tell me what you want to hear

Something that will light those ears

Sick of all the insincere

So I'm gonna give all my secrets away

This time don't need another perfect lie

Don't care if critics ever jump in line

I'm gonna give all my secrets away

-Secrets One Republic

My life wasn’t always this complicated, in fact at one point everything was planned out for me. I only had to do what I was told. Some people may say that seems terrible, that I wasn’t living, just existing. Bullshit. Life was bloody great I knew it. Sometimes when I think back I can’t help but pray for the return of that ignorant bliss.

Son of the Duke of Lancaster. That was my life. I breathed, ate and slept aristocracy; I spent my whole life with this title hanging over my head. So what was I meant to do with my life? Simple: become the next Duke of Lancaster. When you think about it, it sure made things simpler. I didn’t have to spend hours agonising over what career I wanted or whether I have the right grades to do it. Everything was laid out for me on a silver platter, funny how things change. I was meant to become a duke NOT an American university student and certainly not a world-famous singer (albeit an anonymous one. Can you really be world famous if no one knows who you are? People magazine seem to think so.) 

My best friend Rick once asked me whether I would have preferred to be born a normal kid, playing football with the other school kids instead of taking piano lessons or playing PlayStation instead of Polo but that again would be bullshit. I’m not an idiot; I understand that I was given opportunities that others would give their back teeth for and I vowed to myself that I would thank my parents by taking the chances they gave me. So I went to business meetings instead of the cinemas and Latin lessons instead of paintballing with a smile on my face, forever grateful for what my parents have done for me.

So the question becomes: If I was so happy with the way things were back in England, why did I come to New York to live a double – I mean triple life? The answer - my sister.

It was two years, ten months, three weeks and 5 days ago. I could tell you the hours, the minutes too. You’re bound to remember the worst day of your life, right? I had just finished my piano exam. I think I got exceptional attainment or something I was actually eager to get home and tell my sister how it went, but then I remembered that Lizzy went on that trip to America with Dad. But I was excited to tell mum, well I was until I saw her face. People say that when you hear the words announcing a loved one’s death you feel shock, then this intense emotion engulfs you. That’s not how it happened to me. I just felt empty. Lizzy gone, my sister gone, I couldn’t accept it. My mother kept on talking, words I couldn’t take in or understand ‘Elizabeth lost at sea’, ‘a boat accident’, ‘another driver’; ‘body never found’.The housemaid ended with a good one: ‘she lived a good life’. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. How could she have had a good life when she hadn’t even lived yet? She was ten for heaven’s sake. Ten! No one, not even my sweet fun loving baby sister could have done everything she was meant to do in that time. I suddenly not only felt my loss but her loss too.

Lizzy was the best little sister a brother could ask for; cool, funny and smart she was the perfect balm to hard day of stress. I love… loved her so much. I remember when she laughed she would throw her heart-shaped head back causing her golden locks to fly back in a sort of corona around her head. Then her mouth would open wide and the loudest, most unladylike and infectious sound would come out. It didn’t matter what she was laughing at when you heard her you just had to laugh along with her. We would laugh so hard until we couldn’t breathe and both our cheeks turned crimson. It would be miracle if we could remember what was originally so funny. Lizzy lit up a room and was the light of my life. Then she was gone and I was left in the dark.

I ended up in New York because of a promise I made her. It was five years ago now, on my fourteenth birthday and I had just come back from the country club. I checked that no one was around; mother was downstairs and father was still at the club so I was safe. I took out the guitar that my parents didn’t even know I played and started to sing. It was an escape, it was magic and it was a secret. My music was always private and I planned to keep it that way. It’s only when I lifted my head that I realised that wouldn’t be an option anymore because standing in the doorway of my room was Lizzy.

A whole swarm of emotions engulfed me; fear was the predominant one. I was scared to death of her reaction. Would she laugh at me or worse pity me? Looking back now I realise how foolish those thoughts were, I knew Lizzy well enough to know that she wasn’t like that, I guess that anxiety took over rational thought. I was always felt fixed in my role; I was moulded to be what my father wanted me to be and the thought of him finding out that I deviated from that path scared the hell out of me. Looking back, the memory is almost bittersweet, I remember how after her initial shock this huge grin took over her face and her eyes sparkled like the sea or an emerald, when I look in the mirror I see those same green eyes and honey blonde hair in me. Her initial ‘’you’re amazing’’ and ‘’why didn’t you tell me’’ served to soothe and give me assurance, maybe I am good? I never took the whole singing thing seriously but she gave me confidence in my talent. I started to realise that what I was doing wasn’t just an escape, it was an art too. I performed for her on special occasions, only her. She knew how big it was for me to share my music. She understood. That’s why she never asked or threatened me to perform but always assured me that I should perform and show people my ‘talent’. She told me that seeing me doing the thing I love and showing the world would make her the happiest sister in the world, so I said ‘OK, maybe I will one day’. She died three years later. I left for New York the next.  So here I am, that’s what I’m doing, and that’s why I’m indigo. I’m just fulfilling a promise to my dead baby sister.