Friday, 25 February 2011


My family is in trouble again…

Anyone living in Brighton may know that last week there was a fire at 3 Widdicoombe Way in Moulsecoomb.

That’s my sister and nieces house.

I’ve changed names to hide their true identities because they’ve got enough on their plates at the moment and I doubt they would want anymore unwanted attention dumped on their shoulders.

My sister will be called Katherine (37 years old) and my nieces will be called Gabby (21 years old) and Ruby (17 years old).

Katherine has been arrested on suspicion of arson (and because of which can’t be re-housed by the council), but I know she didn’t do it. It was her girl friend who started the fire and who has subsequently fled Brighton to Guildford where her dad lives.

The thing you should know about my sister is she’s a tramp…

I hate to admit it but it’s a home truth even I can’t ignore anymore.

She’s off the heroin and methadone but hooked on the super strength beer.

In her own words she says the last time she was ever 100% sober was at aged 11…

“Even through my pregnancies I was smoking dope,” she said.

It’s funny because she likes to proclaim that she’s off drugs. But I just tut because she says it with a can of special brew in her hand…

The long and short of it is that their house in not habitable and locked up. Katherine is seriously killing herself and my nieces are scared shitless.

To top it all off, last night Katherine broke down in tears and revealed she was raped when she was 12 years old by one of my mum’s boyfriend, while mum was crashed out up stairs drunk on brandy.

I remember the night. Peter was our mum’s new boyfriend of about 6 months. We had spent a summer in his house in Wales. Peter sold boats and paid us a visit in Brighton having been to the Southampton Boat Show.

He turned up with wine, cheese, brandy and a Chinese. We had a good night and for 28 years I never knew anything untoward happened, until last night when Katherine dropped the bombshell.

“Why do you think I’m a lesbian?” she said.

On top of that she said Uncle Hugh tried to kiss her. In a way that shocked me more. Peter was a stranger but Uncle Hugh was someone I’ve known all my life and who was very much a father figure to me growing up.

He was incidentally the only to totally disown Katherine once her heroin addiction became known, following our mum’s death in 2001.

Katherine spent the night of the fire in a police cell. The following night she spent on my sofa. The night after she spent at the hostel where Ruby was staying, the night after that she slept on the street and the following night back on my sofa. That was yesterday and she was meant to slept on my sofa again tonight but she nowhere to be seen and I have no way of contacting her.

The bottom line is that she’s heading for the grave at an alarming fast rate.

Her daughter’s admit that even though she is generally messed up, she’s really really messed up at the moment.

“She just doesn’t care anymore. She doesn’t care about anything. She drinks JD all day and gets paralytic drunk,” Ruby told me.

They are scared and I am scared. Katherine is killing herself and it’s only a matter of time before I get the news. Hey it could even be happening tonight as I write this.

My name is Matthew Taylor and I’m her brother. I run my own business and live with Karina and our kids, Elizabeth (5 years old) and Lewis (9 months old).

I can only help so much and I’m doing everything I can. Katherine is welcome to stay in our spare room for as long as she wants. Karina has brought her new knickers, socks, clothes and shoes. We’ll feed her, bath her and even read her bedtime stories if it’ll help. But I have limitations. As the old saying goes- You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.

Which brings me to my blog. My family is in trouble…

Can you help?

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