"Mum, please! This is stupid." I overheard my freshly turned 18 year old sister whining. Which was out of character for her because she used to be quiet, not so easily miffed. At least she had been that way since I got home from my semester abroad. I listened to the exchange between my mum and sister out of pure curiosity.
"No bloody way am I leaving my car keys, Semira. You've got thirty seven days left of punishment and then we'll have a chat about trust. Now, if you need to go anywhere, Roger has his car. Ask nicely and he may give you a lift. John and I will be in France for the next nine days then we'll be off to Germany, I'll ring your bell you when we touch down." I heard the familiar sound of my mum's double cheek kiss just before she started towards my room. I met her in the doorway with open arms. Her dark eyes smiled at me before coming in for a hug.
"Don't worry, mum. I'll keep an eye on our girl," I assured her. I felt her small frame sigh before kissing both of my cheeks.
"Please do, I'm not entirely sure what's been going on with her lately, but she needs somebody to talk to. Just try for me, Roger."
I nodded my head, "Of course, mum. Have a safe holiday with your boy toy." I added cheekily. She pursed her lips at me in mock annoyance. I smiled back at her and accepted another round of her cheek kisses.
"Don't make me rethink you being my good child, Roger. I love you," she added just before leaving for the next three weeks. Finally, I thought to myself, I can get some alone time with my wayward sister. I did want to know about the obvious changes in her. I could have sworn she had lost weight and gained a whole new wardrobe in the last six months. The change worries me only because she used to be a girly, pink sporting popular school girl and the woman I saw now looked like she belonged to a Joan Jett cover band. I found Semira in her gallery painting a scene of sorrow that I couldn't possibly understand. I wanted to, however...
"Mira, my heart is bleeding gazing upon your works."
Her dark, exotic eyes caught mine but quickly darted away. Mira was a spitting image of our mum. Same height, weight, same black waves of hair, and of course their faces. I swear my mum just cloned herself. From a very young age, I noticed they didn't look at me the same.
"Did mum ask you to come have a chat?" She asked me instead of focusing on my obvious intention. My feet took my body farther into her art room so that I could take in all the different works. I could tell which paintings were the oldest because they seemed lighter, happier, and more like the girl I had been looking for the past few weeks since being home. Our mum was born in Turkey but her parents had moved to the UK when she was quite young. While at university, she had met our father who had been in the Queen's Army. They married and had us, but their happiness didn't last long because father had been sent to Afghanistan where he was shot and killed. Mum had a posh career but the government had paid her handsomely for her husband's sacrifice thus landing us our posh manse just outside of London. Having a big house and a wealthy mum had made Semira and I quite popular in school though we didn't go around rubbing our lifestyle in other's faces. We always acted humble and never once had either of us been known to bully like the other rich, popular kids. It wasn't in our nature. Plus, we had always been close, only 13 months between us in age, we could relate well. That is until I had left for university in America. In such a short time, Semira and I had grown up and apart. I didn't know her anymore, and that scared me.
"It wouldn't matter," I began, "even if she did ask me to have a chat, I would've on my own. What's happened to you? Last holiday you seemed fine and now? Well, I hardly recognise you."
Semira chuckled at me but then sighed as if she was tired. "Rog, Christmas holiday was brief. You didn't stay the whole time because you had that project due in America."
That's right, I had left early to finish for my group. "Yeah, but something happened after I left, didn't it?" I asked her again.
Her expression darkened but the an idea sparked in her brain, I could see her wheels turning.
"I'll tell you about it on two conditions, dear brother," she goaded me. I took the bait.
"Name them," I fired back.
Her smile almost seemed genuine then, "We'll play twenty questions over a bottle of reserve. I'll ask and you'll answer before I give up my darkness. Deal?"
I liked this game, plus the wine wouldn't hurt. In fact, I was willing to bet it was going to make the conversation much easier on Semira. I nodded my head in agreement.
"I'll meet you in the billiards room in a quarter hour." Semira agreed then followed me out of her gallery headed towards her wing of the house. I decided to change into my night clothes for our nights could go on and on and I knew I'd be falling into bed by the end of the night. Then I ventured down to the vast wine cellar beneath the kitchen to pick out two bottles of the less likely to be missed reserves. Just before heading to the billiards room, I stopped to grab two glasses. Semira had beat me there with the obvious thought to get comfortable as she was in a matching pajama set that mum had got her just this last Christmas.
At least it was yellow instead of black. Though I couldn't help noticing that the set fit her loosely. I also appreciated the sleeveless top that showed her arms off.
"Hello governor," I said playfully. I handed her a glass before setting mine down. Thankfully, this room of the house was fitted for entertaining providing both a chilling hold for the bottles and a corkscrew to pop their tops. I didn't waste time in filling both glasses before sitting on the settee adjacent from my sister's chaise lounge.
"Alright, do your worst." I prompted her.
Semira's dark eyes closed in appreciation of the wine. I hadn't tasted it yet.
