The Man Behind The Curtain / February 21 2008
My brother has been talking recently about how he hates receiving visitors at his flat.
I reminded him yesterday of something he used to do, some rather bizarre behaviour that used to provide me with hours of endless amusement, all those years ago when we both lived at home.
He has always been a vaguely eccentric fellow and at times even a little odd. I am sure he would not mind me telling you this and neither would he deny it; it is merely an essential element and primary facet - one of many - that combine to make a truly fascinating, unique and remarkable individual.
I asked him if he could remember when he was about eight-years-old and he was going through a peculiar phase of hurriedly secreting himself away somewhere in the sitting-room whenever there was a caller at the family home. His favourite hiding place was behind the long curtains that hung in front of the French windows.
Whenever there was a knock on the front door, he would immediately stop whatever it was he was doing and bolt behind the red velvet curtains in order that he wouldn’t have to speak to whoever it was at the door, should they be allowed into the house and enter the room.
My mother was invariably forced into excusing her young son’s irregular behaviour to whoever it was that had come to visit her – the meter reader, the man from the Pru, or one of her male friends from the council – because my little brother’s Paddington Bear plimsolls and white ankle socks were at all times still visible beneath the hem of the heavy curtains. ‘He’s a little shy,’ she used to say.
‘He’s a little idiot,’ I would add, helpfully.
He would quietly remain there for the duration of the visit and, try as we might, could not be coaxed to come out from the comfort and safety of his beloved hiding place.
I mentioned to him also in our brief conversation yesterday how I am slightly worried by the fact that he still exhibits this strange behaviour even now, when he is in his thirties, whenever he is at my house.
Old habits die hard, I suppose.
Filed under Childhood / Family / Memories / Nelson Galaxy / Shyness
Comments
5 comments on “The Man Behind The Curtain”
Charlotte / February 22nd, 2008 at 11:44 am
Hee hee hee! Sorry to giggle at your expense Nelson, but it was very funny at the time!
Napoleon Fantastic / February 22nd, 2008 at 12:45 pm
It was very funny, Nelson, and I’m not sorry about giggling at your expense.
Jo Beaufoix / February 24th, 2008 at 1:51 am
Oh, I can just imagine him in his Paddington Bear plimsolls. I never even knew they made such amazing foot wear, sigh.
Napoleon Fantastic / February 24th, 2008 at 1:25 pm
Sigh.
Nelson Galaxy / February 26th, 2008 at 6:27 pm
Leave me alone or I’m going behind the curtains again.
Leave a comment
