The topic started as it normally did with too much to drink and his friends boasting about conquests real and imaginary. Despite what Martin heard, he imagined that most of the bragging was more wishful thinking rather than anything any of them had managed to accomplish. It was also only time he knew before the conversation would invariably turn to his sister Glenda. In reality, she was not his sister, not even his stepsister. Eighteen months older than he was, he had been adopted by her parents as a youngster when Glenda's mother found she could not have any more children due to complications during that first pregnancy.
He had no idea who his real parents were, but his adoptive mum and dad had always treated him as their son, even if his mother could be a bit stand-offish at times.
All of his mates had the hots for Glenda, but that was only because they did not know her or have to live with her. In their eyes, she was a gorgeous creature, blonde-haired, perfect figure and desirable breasts. Each of them wanted to date her or better still, get her into bed, but Martin just didn't get it. As far as he was concerned, she was the most self-centred, vindictive, prick-teasing bitch he had ever met.
At home and growing up, family life had given him all the normality he could have wished for, but sometimes he got the impression that Glenda was their mother's favourite. She was always given preferential treatment and could get away with anything, able to twist their parents around her little finger. Mum would always believe whatever Glenda told her and it was only his father that tended to take his side. Although, as Martin got older, he realised that his dad was perhaps hen-pecked and dominated by his wife and daughter.
He had tuned out of the conversation, something he always did when the subject turned to his sister. As he caught the odd comment, he decided to have a bit of fun and perhaps make some money on the side.
'Listen, boys, listen. Does anyone fancy a bet? I'm giving good odds.' The noise of their conversation subsided as they all looked in his direction.
'A bet on what?' Bobby asked. Martin knew he would be the one to ask the question.
'Well, as you all seem infatuated with my sister and think you stand a chance. If you get her into bed in the next ten months, I'll give everyone that manages it, fifty pounds.
'If on the other hand, by New Year's Day, you haven't managed it. You give me twenty pounds each. I can't say fairer than that boys.' Simon laughed at his own brilliance.
There was a clamour as each of his mates took the bet, all of them convinced that they could get his sister into the sack in that amount of time and expressing their intentions.
Martin laughed to himself, this was going to be easy money. He caught the warning glance from the landlord as their corner became a little too boisterous, telling his mates to quieten it down as he went and bought the next round.
His friends he knew, had an insurmountable problem. Glenda!
Mum and dad had never stopped his friends from visiting provided they behaved and didn't get overly rowdy. It was Glenda. The moment they appeared she went out of her way to be provocative and flirtatious. She would change, putting on clothes that displayed more of her body than modesty dictated. She would sit on their laps and wriggle her bottom, knowing full well that she was igniting erections as she blew them kisses, ruffled their hair and seemingly promised them that they had every chance with her.
But at the end of the day, Glenda never gave out, especially not to his friends at least. She was no virgin, having slept with several different partners. She liked to brag about them to Martin, her preference as far as he could see, was for married men. She liked men who would buy her presents but were not a threat because of their wives and families back at home. In that way, she could dump them when she became bored and they went silently, afraid to make a fuss.
Martin wasn't bothered by what she got up to or what his mates thought they were going to get from her. By the time he was eighteen, he just treated her with disdain, knowing that it annoyed the hell out of her because she could never get the better of him. The more she tried to provoke him, the more he ignored her. While mum and dad were around, he was always well mannered and polite, passing comments that he knew his parents would see as brotherly affection and telling Glenda how nice she looked. But alone and especially when she managed to piss him off, he would just call her "The slag".
He'd left school at sixteen and got an apprenticeship as an electrician. One day at college and four days of "on the job" training meant he would be qualified in another twelve months or so and his wage would almost double and give him the freedom he was now looking forward to.
Just lately, Glenda had not been getting her own way as much. That was because Martin had decided to get his own back by targeting their mother. Whenever his parents were around, he went out of his way to be sociable and helpful. He would pass comments to his mother about a particular dress she wore or tell her how nice she looked when she had her hair done.
He knew that he was a good-looking lad, never having trouble picking up girls, and so when he was alone with his mum, he had started flirting with her and paying her compliments, hopefully becoming the son that she had never managed to have. He had told her one day, that he could see where Glenda got her looks from, watching as his mother preened.
'Two can play this game,' he thought to himself. If he could get his mother on his side, Glenda would have no one to turn to.
Over the Christmas period just gone, his mother had got slightly drunk during the day and he offered to help with the dishes after their meal, drying as she washed. He was tipsy also and only saw it as a bit of fun when he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, kissed the top of her head and whispered in her ear, 'If only you weren't my mum.'