A Bird on My Shoulder by Lucy Palmer Page A

initial meetings without too much difficulty; in my own mind, I was simply someone their father knew. However, with a baby on the way,whatever Julian’s sons thought of the situation before, it would have been very confronting for them to realise that I would now be a permanent part of their lives. At the time, I was quite naïve. I had no real idea of how they felt, nor any real ability to empathise; their situation was completely outside my experience. I was caught up in the bubble of being in love, and had little insight into the enormity of what was happening for them.
    Surprisingly, I found being a stepmother in waiting slightly nerve-racking. I really wanted to be accepted by Julian’s sons and I could see it was not going to be easy. My presence created a minefield of bruised feelings – there was no point in pretending it was otherwise – and I felt powerless to change it. For the most part, we all got on very well and I liked the boys a great deal. However, I was excruciatingly aware, at times, of the undercurrents between us, of what was not being said. Naively, I just wanted to be myself, not occupy some awful maligned stereotype. But the relationship between children and their step-parents is one that has everything stacked against it from the start. I often found myself feeling self-conscious and slightly intimidated by the power of these confident, strong-willed young men.
    Julian was more philosophical. While he was not immune to the deeper emotional layers at work, he managed to stay above the fray and, like the sailor he had been since his youth,resolutely maintained an attitude of quiet understanding and a determined focus on the far horizon.
    •••
    I was happy to go to South Korea to visit Charlie, but my enthusiasm was somewhat dampened by the fact that I was constantly nauseous and tired and hardly in the mood for travel. I shuffled off the plane, creased and bloated. At the end of a long sloping gangway, hundreds of people milled around quietly.
    ‘Dad!’ A dark-haired young man pushed through the crowds to embrace Julian. Unexpectedly, an enormous bunch of flowers was thrust into my arms.
    ‘You must be Lucy,’ said Charlie, looking at me with a warm smile. ‘It’s really great to meet you.’
    •••
    During our time in Korea we took a trip to Seoraksan National Park, about a four-hour bus ride from Seoul. One night we went for dinner at a hotel which boasted several karaoke bars. After a few drinks Julian suggested that we should all get up and sing. Charlie and I laughed.
    ‘But you can’t sing,’ I said.
    ‘I know,’ he replied.
    I thought he was joking. For a start, Julian was deeply reserved – singing in public was the last thing I’d imagine hewould ever want to do. He walked over and collected two books of lyrics from across the room.
    ‘No way,’ I said. ‘I’m not doing this.’
    Julian sat idly flipping through the song sheets.
    ‘Ah, yes. This is the one,’ he said. He walked over to the stage and a group of men started clapping. Oh no, I thought, surely this isn’t happening.
    Julian nodded to the operator and the opening bars of the unrepentant ‘My Way’ began to float across the room.
    In that moment, I was in absolute awe of his ability to put fear aside and launch into the moment. Julian genuinely did not care that he couldn’t sing or that people were watching; he was having the time of his life.
    •••
    My mother flew over from England the week before the wedding to ‘give me away’. Having never met Julian I can only imagine the trepidation with which she anticipated meeting her prospective son-in-law, who was only slightly younger than she was. Like my father, she was gracious, but I could tell this was not an easy situation for her.
    One day she had gone out shopping with one of the young men from the AAP house, John. Although she was relatively young, still in her late fifties, I was concerned that some young street boys or raskol might