My Almost Brother

"Sam!"

I just couldn't believe what I was seeing! I had seen this girl just a few weeks ago on my birthday.

And at that time I had mistakenly labelled her as ready for the convent. And now, here she was. Hobnobbing with Johan.

It was he, who broke the ice. "Are you done for the day? Can we leave? We are unintentionally billing your hospital overtime for all those gathered here"

"The hospital can bear that" I pacified him "And anyways that is not your concern." "I didn't bring my bag. I had to come running to see your companion" I added testily. "I will just run and get it. Two minutes!" Two minutes wouldn't even begin to cover all that I wanted to ask him, especially Sam, but it had to start somewhere.

"I am sure Helen wouldn't mind helping in bringing your bag home!" He singled her out of the crowd. "Helen, would you mind?"

Of course, Helen couldn't answer. She was too tongue-tied to have been addressed directly by Johan, and that too in front of such a substantial crowd. She barely nodded her head. In that instant, she became a celebrity at the Uni and the subject of intense scrutiny by all the assembled onlookers.

And I could see Sam was enjoying this spectacle every bit; with her faux coquettish bite on her lips and her charitable looks, she was lording over this scene.

I guess I hadn't really paid any attention to Sam's( Sam's full name was Samantha Roderigo Peritonio) looks earlier. Her honey-mocha skin, combined with long waist-length tresses taken in isolation may have mistakenly hinted at her ecclesiastical inclinations, but her almond-shaped smoky eyes, heavy mascara, pencilled brows and her lip corner piercings clarified her Naomi Campbell-like aspirations. She also had a model-like slim structure, No Bristols (breasts) worth encumbering in a bra(which she seemed to do without)and a typical hands-on-the-hip pose.

And I had thought just a few weeks earlier, that she was ready for the convent; which actually showed her chameleon-like dexterity in camouflaging herself and her intentions.

So to keep my deemed Princess position intact in the hospital, I grabbed her arm and dragged her away from Johan and towards the entrance.

"Ya Sis!" (I laid undue emphasis on the word and made sure everybody heard it) "I guess we have a lot of catching up to do!"

Once we were out of the main entrance of the hospital I was searching for the Black Mercedes or the Honda, but neither were visible. I saw Sam head towards a new vehicle this time, which was a Limo. And I had to follow her.

As soon as we all were seated and Ralf started the Limo I pounced on Sam. "Okay! How come you are here? How long have you two been in league? (in cahoots) Am I the only one always in the dark?"

As on previous occasions, Johan interjected in between my questions with another bombshell. "Well!....I thought you would like to meet my Social Media Manager!"

"Your social media...." I started repeating that slowly and then the voice died in my throat. I was dumbfounded. "You mean to say..." I could not complete the sentence.

"All your sleazy and salacious messages...yup!" Sam repeated sotto voce.

To say that I was embarrassed was the understatement of the century. I was mortified. I was paralysed with shock. I did not know which way to look.

Thank God, no lights had come on inside the limo or else my cheeks, tomato red with embarrassment would have been too much of a spectacle.

I took refuge in the only thing that could save me now. Anger!

And I started shouting at Johan. "How can you trick me like this?" "This is a low blow even by your despicable standards!" "Dragging me into this mess!"

"If you already were involved with Sam, why the hell did you kiss me that day? Hasn't anybody taught you basic etiquette to not involve two sisters in this kind of in-flagrante-delicto behaviour? What about the Ambassador? How did she even become an Ambassador if she couldn't even teach you these basic British courtesies? This may work in Sweden, but here....."

I don't know how long my convoluted and illogical rant would have gone on if it hadn't been stopped...by a kiss!

It was just a peck on the lips, but his lips effectively stopped mine from saying anything further.

"I am not involved with Sam!" was his quiet assurance.

A quick fleeting glance at Sam(before she could rearrange her face into a superior smirk) confirmed her unrequited desire and her pain of unanswered feelings.

There was an awkward silence in the limo after this. Everybody was waiting for the other to say something.

Thankfully Ralf's phone rang at that moment and got connected to the car's Bluetooth speakers. Caller: "Var är han?"( Where is he?) It sounded like the Ambassador. Ralf: "Med mig här, Frun"(With me here, Madam) Caller:"Någon annan?"(Anybody else) Ralf:"Systrarna, Frun"(The sisters,Madam) Caller: "Hello Dr Meeghan and Hi Sam. I am sorry to intrude here, but I need Johan for some urgent work here at the embassy. Could I steal him away from you?" (And then without waiting for any response, she continued in Swedish) "Stanna fordonet nu och gå av"(Stop the vehicle now and get off) This command was directed at Johan. "Ralf will drop you two wherever you want him to" This one was directed at us. "Good night."

And then she hung up.

The Limo stopped at the curb and Johan got out. I couldn't stop myself from showing my disappointment that he was leaving too soon. "So Mama's boy is off to wipe his Mama's arse!" I wanted to castigate him but it sounded more like a plea.

He replied in a stern voice. "Just because you and your mom 'kommer inte överens'(do not get along - Sam translated this for me later), there is no reason why I shouldn't get along with mine" and he closed the door.

His words were a shock to me. This was the first time he had taken a stern line with me. In all our previous encounters he had been playful and indulgent and I had started objectifying him as a living and breathing Teddy Bear who was my confidant and also the object of my desires.

That he could so rudely cast me aside was something that I had never contemplated. I had always expected him to make me his priority, at least whenever he was with me. That there could be someone else(even though that person may be his mother) on the top of his priority list was simply unacceptable to me.

So I dialled his number and in a voice full of spite started recording a nasty message. "So the high and mighty Mr Larsen has decided that it is no more necessary to preserve the courtesies in talking to me. Is it?". "No more goodbyes...no more civic talk...casting me aside like offal..."

I could only get out this much before Sam's palms covered my phone. "Don't....pls...It's me who has to listen to all of it...So pls...just let it go"

It was her pleading voice that jerked me to back my senses.

Yes. He did say that she was his Social Media Manager. So naturally, she would be the one to process all his incoming feeds.

And so, for the first time, I could start to decipher her looks of unanswered feelings and unrequited emotions. With Johan being the supermodel that he was, naturally, he would have thousands of female followers who would literally be pouring their hearts out to him, both salacious and otherwise. Some of them might even be potential stalkers, threatening either suicide or violence or both.

And also for the first time, I started to appreciate how difficult and emotionally draining Sam's task might be.

And so for the first time(since I saw her at the hospital Atrium)I started looking at her as a sister and not just as an opponent.

I deleted my half-recorded message and turning to Sam held her fingers in mine and gave her what I hoped was a look of solidarity.

"What!...Are we going to cuddle now?" was Sam's sharp retort. "Don't go all Elizabeth Bennet on me!" she added in the same acidic vein.

I had to be the big sister here so I let it go.

"Ralf, could you drop us both at my place? We have some catching up to do" I realised that the limo was still in situ and that we needed to get cracking.

And to get the conversation going I commented on her twinning with Johan in her white pullover and we got into girlie talk.

Once Ralf had dropped us off I enquired of Sam whether she shouldn't inform someone that she would be with me tonight.

" You...mothering me now?" asked Sam in disbelief.

And I realised how quickly and effortlessly I had slid into the protective mode with Sam, even though I hardly knew her. Guess the genes or their shared inheritance do tell.

Once inside, I showed Sam my room and asked her to wear whichever of my clothes fit her. I proceeded downstairs to get the drinks ready.

"White rum, Vodka, Gin. What will you have?" I asked Sam when I heard her coming down

She understood my motives and replied mischievously. "Just tea would do!"

I looked up from the drinks cabinet and saw a changed Sam in front of me. She had washed off her Cake face(heavy makeup), tied her hair in a simple bun and had on my loose fitting( loose fitting on her) navy gap tees and pyjama bottoms. To me, she actually looked more alluring.

So I stated in a you-don't-have-a-choice tone "Sam...you know I will ask about him and not just the social media bits." "If you can think you can handle all that on tea....well...May the Force be with you" I ended on a humorous note.

She conceded and agreed on a G&T.

After we had ordered some Lamb Biryani with JustEat, and with a G&T in hand I got down to business. "Sam...tell me about you!"

She countered back "What Do you know about me?"

"Yes," I conceded. "I don't know much about you!" "We haven't been sisters in the traditional sense!"

"We haven't been sisters in any sense!" she was as quick-tempered as me. I guess we had that in common "You wouldn't have even been talking to me If it weren't for Johan" "You have always been a snotty cow"

Guess her venting out was long pending. If anybody else had addressed me similarly I would have been a right shouter and told them off. But for Sam, I could make allowances.

"Ok then...talk! Tell me what I should know" "Like how is it that Mom is marrying the father of the man you work with?" This was a conundrum which still was a mystery to me.

This time she downed a copious amount of gin from her balloon glass. And with a speculative look in her eye, she asked. "Why is this such a mystery? Karri can marry anyone she wants. That's what she has been doing anyways"

I understood that this was a challenge that she had thrown at me. So naturally I had to pick up the gauntlet, so to speak.

"But she has been consistent in her choices." I clarified. "You saw Andrew that day. His Churchillian look makes him look more like a Funeral Director than anything else!"

"All of Mom's partners have been boyishly good-looking! Just look at Ridgeberto your Pa(I had been racking my brains all this while and finally remembered his name), as you call him. He is some Cinema Novo star isn't he?"

Before Sam could respond, we heard the key turning in the lock and in walked my housemates carrying the Lamb Biryani.

"We just met the JustEats delivery guy outside" Brady explained. "Good that you ordered generous portions"

"What took you guys so long?" I enquired of them "Well, it took time to drag Helen away from the hospital staff hounding her!" Afreen clarified. "It was the same questions which you were subjected to on that day of the M25 pile-up!" Helen chipped in with her piece.

During the introductions between my housemates and Sam, I saw Brady start taking a special interest in Sam which was confirmed when he asked her. "So how long yuh deh wid har bredda?"

Before Sam could ask for clarifications I corrected Brady's misunderstanding. "Though Sam has a skin tone similar to yours, she is half Brazilian you dimwit...She won't understand your Jamaican Patois."

Sam naturally could not let go of an opportunity to belittle me. "You are quick to jump to conclusions, aren't you Sis!" And then addressing Brady in a hushed tone she breathed "Oh, mi a skin to skin wid him fi bout three years now!"

I would have just about killed Sam for the complacent and superior looks alone that she was directing at me. Now I had to listen to her lording over me as well, proving that she was closer to Him than I. But still, she was my little sister and I could readily understand her trying to show her superiority over me. "Good to know that you have been there for him" I condescended.

She bristled. "What?... Are you going to be Mother Teresa now? All compassion and brotherly feelings? You did nothing... ok! You are nothing!" Her eyes were burning with anger.

I kept quiet. I just kept looking at her. My housemates were stunned into silence.

"You think that just because he kissed you, you have some sort of claim on him" She had correctly divined my feelings. "I don't have to tell you that he has women throwing themselves on him daily." " Do you know how many nude chat requests I filter out daily?" She was getting worked up.

"There are women who send him videos of fucking a blow-up doll. The doll's face is generally covered with a mask resembling his face." Sam had worked herself into a frenzy, aided by the drink in her hand. "Who the hell do you think you are?.... Aphrodite?...Some sort of nymph?.. You are not even his type!" Her anger was real, but I could detect something else under it all.

"Here you are among friends, Sam! It's not a competition!" I tried to soothe her frayed feelings.

I didn't realise, but she had substituted her G&T for White Rum sometime ago, which she was drinking like water now.

"Competition?" her eyes were just about bulging out while she spat out the next words. "You forgettable slut!.... You think you even stand a chance?" her reasoning was showing signs of alcoholic intoxication.

"Do you know how many movie stars he has at his beck and call?" "European!....Turkish!...Latina!...Israeli!.....Any and every actress and wannabe starlet will walk down the streets... starkers...for him!" Her voice had started to slur.

"Except American of course! He hates America and Hollywood" This piece of information was new. I couldn't understand why he would have such an aversion to Americans.

She paused her tirade to take another few gulps.

"Why are you so insecure Sam?" I quietly asked. I had finally succeeded in deciphering the cause of her histrionics.

She stopped her sip midway. Looking directly at me she lowered her glass. We kept looking at each other and in that instant, I knew what she was going to do next.

And in a melodramatic fashion, she splashed her white rum on my face.

Brady yelled, "What the fuck!" Both Helen and Afreen shrieked. But I just sat there calmly with the Old Salt Rum running down my face.

While Afreen was snatching the tissues from the cabinet, I just kept looking at Sam.

And slowly... I saw her face crumble. Her eyes glistened with tears and she bent her head. She could not keep looking at me. I extended my arm, gently caught her by her shoulders and brought her head down to rest on my breasts.

She was weeping silently and her every sob broke my heart. My housemates did not know which way to look and after Afreen had handed me the tissue box, I signalled them to start eating.

Finally, Sam got herself under control.

I handed a bunch of tissues to her and both of us went about mopping our faces. The ridiculousness of this simultaneous act made both of us burst out in laughter, and looking at us laughing like fools, my housemates too joined in and for a minute the house echoed with laughter.

"Eat this Lamb Biryani!" "You have been drinking too much!" I chided Sam. "You can compensate for today's cheat day tomorrow"

The relief at diffusing the tense atmosphere of earlier was such, that the Lamb Biryani tasted additionally mouth watering today; a fact which was commented by Sam too.

With the copious amounts of white rum that she had drunk before and gin that she was having with dinner, Sam became quite loquacious.

"You know, I have always been envious of you!" She was trying to butter me up now after her tirade of before. "News of your military-style training did reach us at Stroke-on-Trent."

"I was sixteen" she continued "when both me and Karri convinced Pa to let me enrol in an Initial training program. I guess, by that time, I had established my bonafide rebellious credentials."

A look of fond remembrance crossed her face. "Pa was ready to overlook my smoking, the goth look and my facial piercings; but it was my repeated violent behaviour which wore him down" With a childish giggle, she added. "You know, PC Castell at Bucknall PS almost became my surrogate mother, with the number of times she had to escort me back from the lockup to our castle overlooking the Trent River."

"The last straw for Pa, was when I split the nose and upper lips of Lord Rudnury's youngest son because he called me a harlot." "It was then he decided, that it was better that I should be disciplined at the Army Boot Camp(as he called it) where I would not cause him further embarrassment." "So I joined Col. TwinkyToes" she added with relish.

"Really!" this was a revelation to me. "I didn't know he operated that far north of Cambridgeshire" "Does he remember me?" nostalgia flooded my memories.

"Does he ever?... I was especially beasted by him and the 117th regiment because I was the sister of 'That Brat Rockwell' as he liked to call you"

And then we spent a few minutes recollecting and laughing about the various initiations and beasting rituals that every recruit had to go through at Col. TwinkyToes' camp.

Her voice had begun to really slur now and it was becoming difficult to sort out her almost incoherent sentences.

"In camp...got exposed.... electronic scramblers...got fascinated....great thing... tech....liked inner workings... thus took to programming...need show...was better than you." "God!...you...like Hamlet's ghost... can't live with...can't live without!"

It was then that I decided that before she embarrassed herself further, it was necessary to put her to bed. So Brady and I half-carried, half-dragged her up the stairs and dumped her on my bed.

After Brady had closed the door behind him, I placed a bucket near her side of the bed to puke on and remarked "You know, we all are doctors here! We can make out who is actually drunk and who is overdoing it! We get cases like yours every day in Emergency"

She remarkably turned sober and flipped around, and planting a peck on my lips remarked "So remember, I am doing this sober!" She turned on some music on her phone and then sauntered off to the wash.

Puzzling over what it was, that she wanted to imply, I started getting ready for bed.

When Sam came out I saw that her hair was still damp after a wash and a subtle woodsy floral fragrance permeated the air. Sam volunteered the info that the perfume was Penhaligon's Bluebell, which I remembered had also been Princess Diana's favourite.

But the glaringly important issue was that Sam had come out of the wash wearing just VS Smalls and nothing else. Somehow she found it judicious or practical or both in chucking off my tees and my pyjama bottoms. And I was right in my assessment at the hospital, her boobs barely registered their presence.

"I know we are sisters Sam, but isn't this a bit too much?" I couldn't keep myself from saying

"It's necessary" was Sam's cryptic reply. And then she did something totally unexpected. She pulled me away from the dressing table and enveloped me in a bear hug. She planted her lips on me and started giving, what to me looked like mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

I was so surprised that for a few moments, I just couldn't react, and then when I wanted to pull away, Sam tightened her bear-hug on me. "What the fuck? What are you doing?" was all I could get out before she again closed my lips with hers and started kissing me passionately and violently.