I am the oldest of us siblings. Sacha comes next, four years and three months behind me, and Emma holds our rearguard, six years and six months after Sacha. For six of those ten years before Emma appeared in our lives, it was Sacha and I. Sacha was everything a little girl should be; delicate, graceful, imaginative, full of charm and with the strong character that defines her still….and I was a little brute and gave her hell, tormenting her mercilessly, and most often than not I got away with it. Sacha from an early age was all show-biz; she loved to sing and dance and one of her favorite toys was a little wooden pestle my parents had around the house that she held up like a mic and sang into with all her heart when some record or other was being played. “Su crófono”, she used to call it. This was in Paris and that day we were both in what my parents called “The Music Room”; the guest room in our flat where the hi-fi also happened to reside. Barbara Streisand’s “Woman in love” was blaring and Sacha was….well, performing with all her voice and heart. I haven’t heard the track in decades but I seem to remember there is a moment in the song where Barbara Streisand sustains her voice for an inordinate amount of time…..and Sacha accompanied it with all her lungs. My mother screamed from the living room “Oliver!!! Deja a tu hermana!!!!….me oyes? DEJA A TU HERMANA!!!!” Next thing I knew my mother came crashing through the door, smacked me hard and gave me a stiff cuff around the ears “DEJA A TU HERMANA CARAJO!!!”
“Pero Mamy, no he hecho nada” I pleaded…..and I looked at Sacha bouncing on the bed expecting her to back me up. Sacha stopped and stood motionless, in her little pink outfit, her crófono in her hand, looked back at me in utter silence – completely impassive, -and watched me get another couple of swift smacks.