My Almost Brother Ch. 05-06

/* I would like to thank all of you for liking this story and adding the same to your favourites. A big shout out to tangent832 for your time and effort in providing constructive feedback. Would request new readers to pls start your read with My Almost Brother Ch 1&2 and follow it up with My Almost Brother Ch 3&4 before you peruse this installment of the series. And all characters, events, names, places and designations depicted are fictitious. Any resemblance to a person living or dead is purely coincidental All rights reserved*/

Chapter 5 O Brother, where art thou!

For the rest of the day, I did not see him. I was pulled into surgery for a couple of critical cases of the pile-up. By the time I finished, it was late.

Returning to the common room, I saw a message from Helen saying they were all leaving. At the end of the message, there were kissing emojis tagged, which I found strange.

Whatever the outcome of the morning's bedroom incident between us, she was not the type to send emojis.

Their leaving ahead of me was normal, but tonight as I didn't have my car, I was dreading the hassle of finding an Uber. I changed from my scrubs into a jumper and leggings and came down in the lift to the Atrium to check with reception if they could help me get an Uber.

There I saw Ralf. (Guess I was not going to pronounce his name the English way anymore) Seeing me, he approached and in heavily accented and broken English managed to convey that he was here to give me a ride home. On my enquiry, he replied that Mr. Larsen had left sometime in the late afternoon as he had other duties to take care of. And then he led me to the same Black Mercedes parked in the car park.

As he ushered me into the back seat, Ralf offered me a can of cold lemonade which was wrapped with a slip of paper. Unwrapping the slip of paper, I saw that there was something written inside. I opened the paper in anticipation and found that inside there were just four words written in a neat hand.

/Take Care. Be Safe/

That's all. Nothing else. No emojis. No byes. Not even the mention of his name or mine anywhere

Now I was just Fuming. After our verbal dance in the cafeteria, I had a ton of things to talk about with him. Okay, he had work to do, but if he could write four words, couldn't he write more? And how could he just go away without even a call or a message? When he wanted to cadge an invitation for some tea and scones, he could trouble himself by making a call. So couldn't he even leave a message now to say when he would be back or when we could meet?

And that was the first time it occurred to me that I didn't know where he was staying while he was in England. Obviously not with Andrew.

I asked Ralf and he replied that his instructions were to drop me off at my home and then drop this car back at the office in Epping. But he had no idea where Mr. Larsen was staying.

By this time, we had reached my house, and he dropped me off. I had decided that I was going to leave behind the can of lemonade and the slip of paper in the car, but at the last moment I decided to keep both with me.

As I watched the black car drive off into the night, there was a catch in my throat that I could not explain. Was it a huge disappointment that I was setting myself up for? He had clearly announced to the cafeteria that we were step-siblings, but I refused to believe that we were just that. Wasn't there something more, or was it all in my imagination? When he nodded in response to my declaration, hadn't he acquiesced to that? I could not find any satisfactory answers to these questions and with a pained heart and a tired body I entered the house.

The wafting smell of Sweet Peppers and Chicken Roast hit me as soon as I opened the door and that meant Afreen had cooked. Which meant that I was the lamb who was being fattened up before the slaughter.

In the sitting room ottoman, I saw glasses with red wine and some chips laid out. Brady was bringing in some plates from the kitchen. He saw me and smiled "Come in. Relax. Have some wine and pot roast. We know you could not meet or talk to him. So, you can rant out to us."

"How did you know I could not talk?" Even to myself, I sounded so insecure and needy. "We met Ralph" was his succinct reply. "But Ralf couldn't tell you if I was going to call him or not!" I persisted. "Helen asked Ralph for his number! Ralph could not provide it" said Brady in a there-you-have-it tone. I bristled. So that's why she sent me those heart emojis.

In a huff, I turned towards the stairs where I met Helen coming down. "We are your oldest mates. You and I may have our differences, but one thing I won't do is take away your man!" that was Helen's way of being contrite. "As if you could!" was my sharp retort.

"So, we all agree he is your man! The guy you want and not just as a brother" was Brady's conclusion in his sing-song voice.

"Brady! Just stop, will you? Give her some space to sort out her feelings!" surprisingly it was Afreen who came to my rescue. And I was further surprised to see that she was still wearing the Hijab from work. Normally she would just claw it off her head as soon as we got home. Then I remembered my banter regarding asking Afreen to lead him a Burqa. But as Afreen had come to my aid, I decided I wouldn't needle her about it. Just not yet.

I changed into pyjamas and came and sat on the rug near the ottoman. After we all had toasted to our health, I just went bottom up with my wine. It was Helen who stopped me midway and taking my wine glass away from me commanded "Eat something now! Afra (that was Helen's way of calling Afreen, whenever she wanted to make a point) has cooked a nice chicken roast with sweet peppers for you. Eat before you perforate your stomach with alcohol"

So, I ate dutifully. The food, as with all dishes cooked by Afreen, was really good. But still, I craved alcohol. Specifically, my brand of single malt. Glenlivet So, I fetched my above-mentioned poison and deposited the bottle in the centre of the ottoman. Brady and Afreen started to protest but Helen shushed them, rightfully anticipating that I wanted liquid reinforcements to start talking.

After I had downed two fingers of the same, I felt the buzz and the warmth spread through my body. The food I had eaten helped to distribute the warmth evenly. I took out the slip of paper which had come with the lemonade can and passed it around. "He left this for me" I clarified, already feeling a little sad from the effects of the alcohol. "But why does this make you sad?" Afreen asked "Doesn't this show he cares about you?" was her rejoinder.

The single malt was loosening my tongue. "Am I a child that has to be reminded to stay safe? And if he is so concerned about my safety, why doesn't he come and see to it himself" In my anger, I didn't realise just how contradictory my opinions sounded.

"You are smitten bad, girl!" This was Brady, proving that he was the wisest of us all. "Ok! I am smitten bad. I am pining for him like a lovesick puppy." The alcohol had also brought back my temper. "But at least I am true to my feelings. I am not hiding behind made-up stories"

"What made up stories?" Helen asked quietly "The bugger all he mentioned about that Scandinavian league or something. Bet you it all was fake" I desperately wanted to discredit him. But why? How had he harmed me?

"It isn't! We checked! I guess many of the girls at the hospital did the same. All of them wanted his contact details. Couldn't find it there" was Afreen's postscript.

"See!" I shouted triumphantly "If he was a Bonafide person who was working or heading such a league, his contact details would be there on their website" was my convoluted reasoning.

"We all know that the Queen is the head of state of not only the UK but of many other nations as well. How many of these official govt. websites carry the Queen's contact details?" Was Brady's way of correcting me. "He is no King!" I responded in a huff.

"What is your problem? What do you want from him?" this time Helen was angry

"I miss him!" I wailed

There! I had finally said it! The confession sounded so pitiful, even to me. "There are a thousand things that I want to talk about with him. A hundred activities I want to do with him. There is so much about him that I don't know. Neither he nor mom will tell me." I was letting it all out "He just comes and goes as he wishes." "But what about me? Am I to be left hanging high and dry each time? Am I to be the maiden in the story who keeps waiting for her prince?" I was near tears.

"Why do you want to keep waiting for him?" Helen's emerald blue eyes bore down on me.

And that brought me up short. I stared stupidly into her eyes for some time but could not find any answer to that.

"You are not true to your feelings as you claim!" Helen continued. "Whether it's love, infatuation or just a reaction to a pretty face, you have to acknowledge that yourself! As I said this morning, we can't be the ones to help you decide your feelings for you!"

"But whatever it is, you better be prepared to deal with it fast! Because from tomorrow all the women at the Uni and I think Brady too will be your rivals!" At this, Brady blushed, and I was left speechless.

"See! You better get battle-ready girl, because this fight is going to get ugly" was Helen's parting comments before she went into her room.

The fight did get ugly!

For one, I never knew I had so many colleagues, staff, and patients who were desirous of keeping in touch with me. Of course, all their end goals were the same, to get his number. And nobody believed me when I said that I didn't have it. And then I became an outcast, which suited me just fine.

But the senior lady doctors didn't take kindly to my not sharing his number.

Especially my Neurology HoD, the Arse-bitch, who made it her mission to punish me for not sharing the contact details of that cute boy, as she called him.

She would call me at all hours of the day or night under the guise of Code Red emergency. I was burdened with report preparation and audit readiness for the surgeries and postoperative care for the whole department. My every tiny mistake in surgery was highlighted by her to all and sundry with a seriousness as If I had been guilty of clinical negligence.

But I bore it all with fortitude. I would not share his number with anybody.

And with that, I realised I had grown insanely possessive of my brother. What I had told him about not sharing him with anyone, I meant it.

But what I did do every day was to leave a voicemail on his number, generally at the end of my workday. The message would not be long, just a few sentences telling him how my day was and asking him about his day.

I pretended that he was listening to those messages.... somewhere... sometime.... and I imagined how his face would look when he listened to them.

After a week of leaving voice messages, when I dialled his number again at the end of work on Tuesday, a recording started playing. "Meegan( I think he was finding it easier to pronounce my name without the h), when you know, you are not going to get me here then why do you keep leaving messages every day? I am having updates sent to me about you, and in case you need my help, I will know. Then I will get back to you"

A chill ran down my spine. So, he was having someone keep tabs on me and was listening to the messages.

That showed he cared. But that wasn't enough for me. I wanted more.

So, I started recording a long message. I told him how briefly I had become Ms Popularity after his showing up on that day. I proceeded to tell him that now I was being victimised for not giving out his number and had become an Outcast. And I told him that I would never give this number to anybody. That was mine. And lastly, I begged him to come and meet me. Whenever.... wherever.

I knew that I was playing the victim card, but I didn't have any guilt about it. I had a singular goal now.

That night while I was in bed, I received a message from an unknown number. It just had a QR code attached. On scanning the code, I saw they were for box seats at the Palladium for tomorrow afternoon which coincidentally was my day off.

There could only be one person on earth who would send me these tickets.

Chapter 6 The first......

Waking up in the morning I was on edge. I was going to meet up with him today, that, I was sure.

But I would have preferred a bit more of an open setting than a box seat at the Palladium. I was unsure about how I would react to him in such enclosed proximity in box seats.

Oh well! Beggars can't be choosers. I had a lazy bath and dressed myself in a white button-down shirt with dark denims and my favourite nude pumps. I completed the getup with a silk scarf tied at the neck and my Gucci clutch (as I had read that the security check at the Palladium was strict and only clutches were allowed)

I got Afreen to book me an Uber. I decided not to take my car, as that would give me a reason to ask him to drop me back. I just wanted to make the best use of the opportunity that I was given.

Reaching early, I found that there was to be a panto here today at the Palladium. This was a little surprising because pantomime shows were generally held during Christmas time. The usher handed me a program. I read that one of the groups who were part of today's show was Swedish, which was encouraging.

I had already pre-ordered some ham sandwiches and coffee through SmartWaiter as I had been too keyed up to eat anything in the morning. As I went to collect my food packet, I was informed that the guest of honour for today was likely to arrive and could I wait a few minutes till she had arrived and was seated.

I texted Afreen to ask who was the dignitary expected in today's show at the Palladium. (Afreen was usually good at digging out info from the internet) She immediately replied that it was the Swedish Ambassador, adding that she had already checked that in the morning.

That put me off. Because if the Swedish Ambassador was going to come here then Johan would be busy talking to the Ambassador and that meant he couldn't give me the attention that I craved.

My whole purpose in coming here was to get him to spend a nice evening with me.

While I was still evaluating my options, I saw some of the guests who were in Black formals, crowd near the entrance, which meant that the Guest of Honour was here.

I waited patiently at the back hoping to catch a glance of the Swedish Ambassador.

She emerged in stately grace in a traditional peach three-piece trouser suit (which looked like a Halsbrook) with a mother-of-pearl necklace and a small white clutch, which I could make out was a Gucci. It was only her plus size and the laughter lines on her face that proclaimed her advanced years. Her unblemished skin, her piercing blue eyes and her shade of flaxen hair seemed to belong to a much younger person.

All this I noticed with my peripheral vision as my direct vision was fixated on the person accompanying her.

Today he was in white formal dinner attire with a pink carnation in his buttonhole and black square-framed glasses which gave him a hot Cambridge scholar look. His blue eyes, and flaxen hair (which was side parted today) on his Adonis face set in motion the all too familiar reaction from the attending guests as he entered the Palladium with the elderly Guest of Honour, a reaction which by now was beginning to annoy me.

I never imagined his league to be so prominent with his country's Ambassador, for him to accompany her to a social event. That meant he would be in attendance with her the whole evening, which in turn wouldn't allow me to spend any time with him.

Why did he even bother to invite me?

I was still mentally cursing him when I saw them both halt their regal progress and Johan beckoned me.

Quite flustered, I reached the Ambassador at a quick pace and with a curtsy bow said "Good evening, Your Excellency. Welcome to the Palladium" "Johan here... sorry... Mr Larsen... did not inform me you would be the Guest of Honour or..."

"Or you wouldn't have come, is it?" interjected Johan correctly divining my thoughts. "Or I would have worn something more appropriate for the occasion" I corrected him frostily, with daggers shooting out of my eyes. Only that effect didn't quite come off, because it was easier and more natural to ogle him.

"And you are...?" asked the Ambassador with polite interest but with mischief in her eyes and a suppressed smile. Even that look seemed vaguely familiar.

Before I could begin to respond, it was Johan who interjected again "Mama, this is Dr. Meeghan(Guess he was using the correct pronunciation of my name with the Ambassador... but wait.... what?), who is going to be my stepsister. Daughter of the woman Andrew is marrying, that English woman Karri"

I was too stunned to speak. My impersonation of the intellectually challenged fifth grader was back on display today.

Mama!?... Did he just address the Ambassador as Mama?

For the few moments that my mind was frozen and I was trying to imitate a blowfish by the opening and closing of my lips without any sound; I saw the Ambassador's face harden, eyes contract in consternation, and she flashed me a vicious look.

It was this undiplomatic look, lasting mere moments, more imagined than seen, that helped in reviving my larynx from dumbness and I blurted out to Johan without thinking. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

Johan audibly cleared his throat, and I was jerked back to my senses while a stunned silence greeted me from all sides. "Umm... ah... Very sorry... Ms... ah... sorry... Your Excellency.... pls forgive my atrocious manners. Obviously, I am unprepared for this occasion both in terms of attire as well as in terms of my speech. Hence, with your permission, I will withdraw from your presence. I hope you will forgive my behaviour."

I somehow got these words out and with another curtsy bow I was planning to leave when Johan caught me by my arms and his mother replied. "Du är gulligt!" (You are cute!) "Nonsense! You will sit with me!" "Kan du snälla ordna det" She ordered that last part to someone from her entourage who assented positively.

Still smarting by the way Johan had grabbed my arm, I responded sportingly to the Ambassador. "Thank you, Your Excellency. I was here to fetch my pre-order. I will just collect the same and we will join you inside the hall in a minute. Thank you once again"

And with another curtsy bow, I grabbed Johan by his coat lapels and dragged him away with me down the steps of the Palladium to the Five Guys on Argyll Street.

"Den där tjejen är en häftig sådan!" (That girl is a feisty one) Was the repartee that Her Excellency shot at my retreating back and I heard nervous laughter before the Palladium doors closed on me.

Still clutching him by the coat lapels, I proverbially kicked open the doors to Five Guys, and with my head lowered and my nose flaring I dragged him to a corner seat. A couple was sitting there with beers in their hands but seeing the black thunderous cloud that was my face they quietly vacated the same and I plonked both of us down on the seats.

"Now talk!" I swear I was spewing out venom with each word.

"Very dignified exit!" he taunted. "Very ladylike! I guess we should take etiquette classes from you English ladies!" Though his voice was low, I could sense that he was angry.

"Oo Sod off, you Tosser!" I just wasn't going to hold myself back today. I was angry as hell.

"That day at the hospital you left without a message or a call." "You don't take my calls. I get a voice message from you after a week. There are hundreds of things that I want to ask you, but you are never around." "I have to beg you to meet up with me and only then do I get this invitation" "And now, today, you humiliate me in front of your mother! Is this how you treat me?" I was sounding clingy, pathetic and pitiful and was almost in tears.

While I was venting to him, his face changed slowly.... from angry...... to incredulous.... to a speculative one.

He said in a clear and resonant voice that carried throughout the shop (it was then that I realised the unusual hush that had descended inside the Five Guys) "I am not your boyfriend"

I retorted back angrily. "Exactly! You are more permanent." "You are my brother!" "For a boyfriend, I wouldn't have even bothered" I stopped to take a breath

"Glad to know I rate higher than a boyfriend!" He said this one to me in a quiet undertone.

And then raising his voice he addressed the assembled customers in general "Any photos taken or videos recorded which are posted in online media without permission will be treated as harassment and thus will be libellous under the Online Safety Act."

This declaration of his resulted in a sudden hiding of the phones by the customers (especially by the female customers) who were doing exactly that I. e. taking photos and recording.

"Come on now! You have given them enough to gossip about!" he said while dragging me by my arms to the exit

The girl who was half of the couple who had vacated their seat for us, raised her voice and shouted in a pronounced Cockney accent. "Bro! I could be your skin and blister(sister) 'oo! S'wear won'' nag you as 'ha' slapper you go' 'here"

But by then he had succeeded in yanking me out of the Five Guys and onto Argyll Street. I wanted to go inside and have a go at that Cockney cunt, but he just forcefully embraced me with both arms and held me tightly to himself in the middle of the road.

"Calm down now! God, you are such a vixen. We have a word for the likes of you in Sweden. It's a pigg flicka." I bristled again at the word pig "Whom are you calling a pig?" "Geez! It's not an English pig. That means a high-spirited girl in Swedish!"

I was mollified, and to show that I was mollified I screwed up my nose and lips in a mock pig snout and uttered Oink! Oink! He just laughed and brought his hands to hold both sides of my head like you do for a child and planted an affectionate peck on my lips.

At first, it was a playful and childish gesture but looking into his eyes I slowly saw his eyes start to smoulder and darken and then the kiss became something more.

He was clutching my head with both hands in a vice-like grip while his lips were devouring me and I had only one sense, one touch with reality left in my body and that was the touch of his lips.

His lips also were exactly what I had fantasized about in Adonis. Soft and succulent, but with muscular jaw and strong teeth.

With the way we were biting each other, it was just a matter of time before we drew blood.

Our tongues were dancing. We both were insistent on sucking the life and saliva out of each other.

I don't know how long we would have continued like this if we didn't have to disentangle from each other for a basic human necessity called breathing.

Slowly, my touch with reality returned. I found that I was panting as if I had just run the four-minute mile. My whole skin was on fire as if shot with white hot arrows. I had goosebumps all over my body.

My lips were burning and as I ran my tongue over it, I could taste blood. Meaning that either one or both of us had finally succeeded in biting off the other

And my loins were burning and screaming as if being stoked on a huge cauldron of red-hot coals. If my hands hadn't been wrapped around his muscular torso, I am sure they would be stealing towards my knickers.

But he seemed far more composed than I felt. He too was breathing deeply but nothing like me. I saw him roll his tongue on his lips and I was sure he could taste the blood too.

He held me at arm's length, while his eyes surveyed me from head to toe.

Silently, without a word, he took off his dinner jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. That meant my pucker-sized nipples must have engorged and pierced through my bra and must be tenting my shirt.

He pulled me gently towards the entrance to the Palladium.

It was then that I looked back to see a myriad of faces glued to the inside of the transparent doors of the Five Guys staring at us.

There were no phones in evidence now, but I was sure all those faces and their phones, had captured our passionate kiss in all its incestual glory.

Nothing I could do about that now.

I was feeling as if I was a boat being buffeted by strong winds and waves and his hand linked with mine was the only mooring-line tethering me to reality.

Once inside the Palladium, he turned to me and holding both of my shoulders gently asked me. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

I was in a non-responsive catatonic state and had not yet come to my senses.

I shook my head gently to answer him as speech was still beyond me. Also, I was trying to mull over the strange question he had asked after we had snogged just now.

"Give me your order pick-up code and I will grab it for you!"

This statement of his seemed to come from a different universe where food, hunger and thirst were valid human attributes, whereas to me all this seemed so far and so distant as to not relate to me at all.

When I had not yet moved in response to his statement, he reached around and plucked out the phone from my denim pocket, pressed my thumb to it to get the fingerprint access and scrolling through the phone apps found the pick-up code and scanned it onto his phone.

"Go to the Ladies and make yourself presentable to the Ambassador" he instructed. This finally got through to me.

"I will grab your food and will be waiting for you at the entrance of the Royal Circle," he confirmed.

Inside the Ladies, standing in front of the wall-length mirror, I saw a totally different person staring back at me.

The hair was a mess, the cheeks flushed an embarrassing red, the skin pale and blotched.

Luckily, I had gone with scarlet lip colour which would now hide the blood on the lips. I also noticed a light bruise on the neck where his fingers had held me in their vice grip.

But I could do nothing about the abnormally pouting lips which resembled those of a Neanderthal cavewoman. Try as I might, the swelling just wouldn't come down.

But the worst were the eyes. There was a hungry and stark raving look about them The pupils were dilated to the point where they nearly covered the whole of the Iris, making the eyes look black instead of Hazel. There was an unnatural shine and glow like an internal torch had been lit. I looked like a zombie out on a brain-feeding frenzy.

One look at me and the Ambassador would incorrectly surmise that I had had a quick and rough do(screw)

I spilled some water on the front of my shirt and wet my hair. I messed up the lip colour and removed one earring. Guess I could say I lost my contact in the Ladies. (As if anyone would believe that! I knew, I was royally buggered! )

I came out and with some trepidation proceeded to the doors of the Royal Circle.

I found him waiting for me with my food packet and coffee in hand. One look at me and he laid the food items by the door.

"Don't overdo it. She is not an idiot, you know. Put on your earrings!" saying this he proceeded to smoothen out my lip colour with his fingers.

"And don't keep pressing the lips together or the swelling will never subside. You are a doctor, you should know that" he censured me like a small child.

"Here, wear my specs. These are myopic ones. The faces will be a little distorted, but you should be able to recognize people in the near distance. And you won't be looking at the show anyways because Mama will be interrogating you quite comprehensively" The chuckle was back in his voice.

That brought me to a full-blown panic mode. "Please" I begged him. "Help me get away. I can't face her now. Not like this"

"If you run away it will be worse. I will be there and will try to ease things as much as I can. Just stick to the truth as much as possible so that you don't get caught in a lie. She is good at catching lies; it's her job, you know!"

"Here, have some of the coffee! We will stick to the story that you lost a contact while in the Ladies and all this is a result of searching for it"

He ran his fingers through my hair patting them into place, drew his dinner jacket closer together on my shoulders and straightened out the lapels so that my bruise was partially covered.

Taking my hand, he led me inside the Lion's den (that's what the entrance to the Royal Circle felt like to me anyway)

As we stood in front of his mother, I was slightly shivering, both from the cold as well as in anticipation of what was to come.

She repeated the top-to-toe appraisal as her son.

"Sit!" She indicated the seat to the left of her.

She looked at the food packet and coffee which was still with Johan and commanded in English to her entourage. "Somebody get her a hot coffee."

And then the interrogation started. Surprisingly it was all about my childhood, about the places I had been to, my likes and dislikes and finally about the people in my life.

Never once did she allude to today's events.

I remember Afreen had told me stories of how in her native country the mothers and grandmothers of the husband would evaluate prospective brides similarly.

But Johan was my brother, how was this anyways relevant?

Once the program ended, all of us bid goodbye to the Ambassador.

Before leaving, she took out a golden broach from her Gucci clutch which was shaped like a rose and pinned it on her son's jacket's buttonhole; a jacket which I was still wearing. (the original pink carnation had been removed by him when he wrapped his jacket around me)

He drove his mother away in the Black Mercedes while Ralf dropped me off in the Honda. It was a wise decision, as I don't think I could have endured an awkward and potentially combustible situation in a car ride with him.

I reached home, opened the door and found my housemates staring at me with unblinking eyes and slack-jawed expressions.

"I kissed him" I confessed.

"We know! That video is trending all over social media" it was Afreen who replied in an awed tone.

On seeing my non-comprehending expression, Brady took out his phone, navigated to his favourite media channel and typed the search string 'My skin and blister kiss!'

From the angle, it looked like it was taken from inside the Five Guys, and there standing in my living room I got to re-live my kiss from a voyeur's point of view.

Cursing that Cockney cunt, I stomped off to bed.