Behaviour

At the street party when your father-in-law ruffled your hair you knew you would always be a child. Cooked meat sweating with middle-aged men sweating out in the afternoon sun, bunting from windows like June 1977. And there was blue blood at the table. Blue blood, and you knew that you had to be on your best behaviour. Blue blood, this cul-de-sac court welcomes Madrileñas and other exotic princes from foreign lands.

Uncle Trev breaks out the brandy.

"I'm getting match fit.
Your tanned friend, how do you say his name again?
This is how we do it...
'Round here we say...
Hey, uh, Jesus? You'd better take this wine, wave your hands and make it water, ha!"

When he said 'true blood' you felt sick to your stomach and your hair stood on end. Your blood singing red white & blue at your friends. At your new friends.

My brothers, my international brothers help me.
Help me escape the island, brothers, and this near history.
My brothers, carry me to your golden cities.