Homeward bound?

My intention of the last few days has been to list the positive aspects of the situation I'm in. But once again, events have overtaken me. Which means you won't, at least, get a pitifully short entry.

This weekend, a successful trip to London was made and applications for construction industry cards (which were paid for through the nose - don't ask) sent off. OH also went to visit a bloke he's worked for before, who has several construction sites of his own, and he and the brothers did a few hours work for him on Saturday and as a result, the brothers received their first earnings. Hooray! At least I imagine that's what they thought, it must have felt significant. We haven't had the opportunity to discuss it.

Since the site is near to where our local cycle path passes the eastern outskirts of the city, they were to have cycled there yesterday afternoon to continue the job ('we' had national insurance interviews in the morning) and the hope is that he keeps them on for a while. Unfortunately, the chain came off my bicycle on the way there and by the time they had fixed it they were wet and fed up and decided to call it a day. I don't know what they think OH does on the building sites where he works when it is raining and by now they must have realised that it rains here more than it doesn't, but hey. (If you're wondering if I'm being mean and whether they've got the right togs or not, we have lent them loads of OH's stuff, and two huge cardboard boxes of clothes arrived from Athens yesterday, having been sent by courier. My heart sank when I saw them.)

I presume the brothers are there today. I was expecting them to come round and collect the bikes early this morning, and had hoisted them out of the back yard and into our downstairs corridor in preparation but they didn't turn up. OH thinks they might have taken the bus, which frankly amazes me, but here's hoping.

Possible limiting factors to their being there a while include the extent of the work available and, obviously, their English, without OH there to translate for them. In the meantime, we are also hoping that one of them at least, probably OBrother, might get to work on the site where OH is currently based. (But he needs to get a bank account first, which he can't open until we get the letter with his NI number.) The plastering work in the house over the road that has been gutted is still a 'possible'.

I really hope that they'll get enough work this week to get the next month's rent, which is due next week, in the bag, so that there is no chance of me being asked to have them back here again. Not that we have room for all their clothes now anyway. Following that, it would be great to know that they have the next couple of months after that lined up, and if possible, I would like them to pay us back what we've covered so far because we are stretched beyond belief. Well, stretched by our terms, Clearly they are more stretched.

While we're talking of being stretched, of course there are lots of different ways that one can be stretched. Despite our financial situation, It's the emotional stretching that I've been finding it hard to deal with. I know that much is clear to you! And yesterday I was stretched a little bit further than I could cope with, and I'm afraid that someone let go of one end and I pinged. I knew it was coming, but was not prepared for it. It was not nice. Not for the brothers, And not for me. I am still vibrating slightly and am possibly a bit saggier than I was before.

I had, over the weekend, realised that OH and I need most urgently to have a conversation about where all this is going, but I hadn't yet formulated what I wanted to ask for. So I was carrying on, and feeling grouchy. Not least because the boys and I barely saw OH all weekend, since he was working needlessly in the rain on Saturday, in order to get the brothers working, and because on Sunday he was carting them up to London and back.

Yesterday I had arranged to meet the brothers in the centre of town, half an hour before OBrother's interview, which was half an hour before DBrother's. I explained that I wasn't too familiar with the backstreets, but that I'd got the A-Z and the address and this plan would give us time to walk there and find it. The city where we live has a number of what you might call central areas, but they know the place where they got their keys cut which is next to a large bank, so to save getting lost or being late, we arranged to meet there. I went in early, as I had some bits to do, and wanted to get back straight afterwards as I had stuff to do relating to one of the voluntary positions I hold. (Note how in a few short weeks I have learnt to over-explain and justify every frigging thing I have to do.) They didn't want to pay for the bus, and I can't afford to pay for all of us, so I cycled and they walked.

At the appointed time, OBrother turned up. DBrother had apparently decided to come along later as his interview was later.
'But we won't have time to go and find the place and then come back and find him and then go back there again before your interview, or between the interviews!' I exclaimed. Already getting pretty hot under the collar. 'Perhaps you could call him and find out where he is?'
'Our phones are out of credit,' OBrother responded.
'Ok, well let me top you up,' I said.
'I've left the top-up card at home,' he replied.

We decided to run for it and call later from my phone, as we had already lost ten minutes. In case you think I'm being mean about the phones, here's the deal. OH bought them each a SIM card with some credit. We gave them each a phone - we had old ones lying around. After a lot of complaint and subtle and less subtle anglings for new ones (OH had told them that I have two brand new ones in unopened boxes upstairs which I intend to flog on ebay) they got them working. We said they they could make brief phone calls home from our landline now and then, but that was it. (When OBrother came over the Christmas before last, he ran up a phone bill of over £250 by making calls so we've drawn a line under this for a reason.)

After walking round in a rather large circle, which was my fault entirely, we got there slightly late and went upstairs for our interview. The woman who conducted it was friendly enough, but it was clear from the subliminal sarcasm in her responses that she was well and truly over completing applications for National Insurances numbers. Some of her responses included:
'Oh, a European passport holder! That'll be nice and easy then.'
'He's a man and he can remember the year he married, well I never!'
'Perhaps he could repeat his signature for me a couple of times? They don't look the same, he'd better copy. Don't worry, I'm not looking.'
'Any other siblings? Eleven? My God. Will they all be joining you?' I did not bother to translate this last bit, and said, "No."

She then asked for DBrother. I explained that we had to go and find him but that we'd be back asap. She seemed unsurprised and said with an ironic smile that she'd "be waiting". OBrother used my phone to call DBrother and went off to find him. Eventually they returned while I spent a pleasant enough half hour in Stamfords where I sourced a European-to-UK plug that OBrother needs to charge his video camera and use his hair clippers. He looked at it and said it was not the right one so, to avoid an argument and because I was feeling annoyed, I put it back on the shelf, despite knowing full well that it was.

When called over to her desk, DBrother shook the woman's hand warmly. I took his arm as he leaned in to kiss her on both cheeks. The light in which I see each brother changes daily, as I get to know them better, and I am getting the impression that DBrother's sensitive romantic character is a card he has played to woo many women over the years. He is in his early fifties but looks about the same age as OBrother who is in his mid forties. He has a round, open face and is not bad looking I suppose. He has a warm smile and I am certain that he would like to find an English wife. I notice the way he interacts with people and pick up on these things.

His friendliness prompted a new set of responses:
'Oh, how very polite. We have got a charming one here, haven't we?
'Now let's see, can he remember the date of his divorce as well as the date of his marriage? He can! Boom Boom.'
'I presume I'd better put your phone number down for this one as well then, shall I?'
'Great signature. Has he been practising?'

We were also, unprompted, given other titbit insights into her opinion of her job. The Pole who was 'single' over here but whom she tricked into revealing the name of his wife back home; the Romanian who said he was called 'rat' and got down on all fours miming one; another guy who, when asked how many children he had said that each wife had five and that he had two more on the way (children, not wives). And the guy who she said she put on benefits because she didn't want him breaking into people's houses and hitting them over the head if she didn't. I was really glad to leave. We were told that their applications should be simple and that they would take six weeks max, possibly less.

I needed to head off at this point, as I was aware that by the time I got home, I'd have less than an hour to get stuff done and that I did not, now, have time to drop by the place I'd been intending to. I was also massively looking forward to some time at home by myself. So they headed off to work on the bikes and I went to wait for the bus. OH called and asked where I was and I told him. He then called back twenty minutes later to say that they'd had problems with the bike chain and they'd be going back home. My balloon burst, and I said as much. So he called back five minutes after that to say that he'd asked them to give me a bit of space and that they wouldn't be at home when I got there. He also said, and really, I have been aching for him to say this and take the pressure off me, 'When I get home from work tonight, tell me what you want them to do and I'll talk to them.'

When I got home, the front door was open. The back door was also open and a wet gale was blowing through the house. One bike was in the corridor and the other had been carried through the dining room and into the back yard. The brothers were stomping around the house with their wet shoes on, despite knowing that we have a shoe-free home. One was trying to find his passport which he'd had ten minutes earlier. The other started trying to talk to me about something.
'Please,' I said. 'I've got less than an hour now to cook, clean, respond to my emails and start writing an Annual Report. I've got someone dropping in with something for me to sign and I need to talk to her about some stuff. Then I've got to go and get the kids.'
'Ok!' he said.
'It's not ok,' I said. 'Please, give me some space now to let me get on. And please close the bloody doors, the house is freezing!'
'Ok, ok!' he said. 'I'm taking the milk from the fridge to make some coffees round at our house, ok?
'No,' I said, 'That is not ok. I've got someone coming round in a minute to whom I will offer a cup of tea. You will be passing the corner shop on the way home and you can buy yourself a pint of milk for around 60p.'
'Ok, ok, don't get annoyed,' he rejoined.
'Look!' I shouted. 'I'm tired and I've had enough for today. I'm annoyed that you messed me around in town. I can't understand why you have decided not to go and work today when you are desperate for the money and you can't afford to mess other people around either. I am annoyed that you haven't produced the Euros I know you've got with you to pay for the cards you applied for in London yesterday, as agreed. I told you that we needed to change them in town and I need to get them into my bank account, fast! I didn't sleep all last night for stressing about all of this and right now, PLEASE, just leave me on my own for a bit.'
'But we are stressed, too, Sofia,' started DBrother.
I didn't want to hear it. So I started flapping my arms around like a frightened bird and literally forced him to the front door and through it. OBrother followed him. With the milk! I slammed the door behind them. And I can't remember what I did after that. But I think it involved sinking to the floor and quite a bit of shouting at the walls.

When OH arrived home, I was just heading out to the shop in the rain to get milk because the boys wanted cereal. He looked tired and fed up and annoyed that his brother hadn't gone to buy some milk for himself, given everything else we've been providing them with. By this time, would you believe, OBrother was already back and watching telly in the front room, having rejected what I had cooked in favour, it turned out, of the sea food that was in the fridge and which I had been saving for later in the week.

When I got back from the shop, OH came to find me in the kitchen. I had the feeling that OBrother was ear-wigging because the telly was on quietly for once, and perhaps he was hoping to observe OH lose it with me. Who knows. DBrother I knew would have the hump and be round to eat now OH was home.

'Here's the deal,' I said to OH. 'Before they came, you told me these guys would get a place of their own and work with you, and that the impact on me would be minimal. They've got a place, and now I need them to live in it. Most of the time, at least. I want my house keys back so that they can't keep coming in when it suits them. If they stay in this country they are going to need ongoing help with finding work and speaking the language, for YEARS. I am not going to cope with that until I have my home, my life, my house keys and my personal space back.

'And two more things,' I added:

'I presume that they will not consider bringing anyone else over here until they are established, with some money in the bank and a place that they are happy living in.

'And this is it. No-one else. I know they're all lining up to come. But this is it. Or I leave.'

Funny how what you want hits you in the face as clear as day and out of the blue.

'I agree,' he said.