Sibling Reunion

As Mike Oldfield's 'Tubular Bells' filled the room with sound from the strategically placed speakers, Adam reclined his chair further and extended the leg-rest. This wasn't all about pleasure, this was work he thought, smiling to himself. On certain days he would repeat this scenario, a different piece of music each time. He had hundreds of albums, an eclectic mix of rock through to classical and everything in between. He would sit and listen and relax, his eyes closed as he allowed the music to wash over him, waiting for that moment when hopefully a chord or riff, maybe even a beat, triggered something in his head. Sometimes initially, it was hard to focus, the picture not clear. A hazy mist would partially hide it from view until certain notes unlocked his thoughts and then his mind would fly with the music as it painted pictures and scenes inside his head

Adam was a games developer and the music told him a story in stills and moving clips which he dictated into his Dictaphone as they appeared, so fast and furious that his hand could never have kept up if he'd tried to write it down. He had worked like this for the last five years earning him a substantial amount of money and several games titles in the top ten charts each of those years. He was just approaching the part of the album he loved the most, waiting for the voice to start its monologue when the purity of it was shattered as his phone rang. He killed the music, knowing there was now no point in returning to it again today, once that reverie was shattered, he could not just jump back in.

He answered the phone, surprised to find his mother on the other end. Mentally, he tried to calculate how long it had been since he had last spoken to her. He always meant to call, but then forgot as he became engrossed in his next new idea. As a child, he had been focused and driven, knowing exactly what he wanted to do, to the point that he excluded all around him. He was happiest being alone, lost in his thoughts, conjuring worlds and peoples from nothing. At twenty-eight he was single and unattached and that was the way he liked it. Thanks to his single-mindedness, he owned the luxury apartment he was currently sat in and full of all the latest tech. In the garage area underneath the apartments was his Aston Martin, he had promised himself one of those when as a child he had watched his first "James Bond" film, and like the apartment, it was also paid for.

'Hi mum, it must be a while since we have spoken, is everything alright?' He asked her, still trying to fathom when they had last had a conversation.

'Hello Adam, yes, it is a while. It is over twelve months since you last decided to call me, anyway, I need you to do me a favour.' She immediately had him on the back-foot, how could he refuse her request when it was apparent that for a long time, he had made no effort to see or contact his family.

'Sure mum, what can I do for you? Anything at all, it's no trouble.' Little did he know that those words would be the start of something that would change his life.

'Did you know that Moira and her husband have split up?' She asked him, Adam, not having a clue what was happening with the rest of his family.

Moira was his elder sister and at thirty-one, was three years older than he was. Growing up, they had never got on, he thought her snobby, pushy, self-centred and arrogant while she thought he was a nerd and a geek. It must be a least seven years since he had seen her, probably at her marriage which against his better judgement, he had been forced to attend.

'Anyway, she's left Davy and has come home. The only trouble is Adam, I've nowhere to put her. So, I wondered, can she come and stay with you for a couple of weeks until I get things sorted?' She asked.

He could feel himself break out into a cold sweat, the thought of Moira here for an hour sending shivers down his spine, let alone for a couple of weeks. It wasn't that he did not have the room. Besides his bedroom, there were two guests' rooms, which in the time he had lived here, had never been used. It was just the thought of her and the way they had acted towards each other in the past, invading his private space which made him fearful.

'Of course, mum, it's no trouble,' he lied. 'When does she want to come over?' He listened as she told him of the arrangements and when he could expect his sister, and any other family news while she had him on the line.

'Don't be a stranger Adam, at least call me. Better still, come and see me.' He felt guilty, he never meant to neglect her. She was his mum and he loved her, he just sometimes found it hard to live in the real world, happy to escape it at every opportunity.

Moira sat in her mother's lounge awaiting the outcome of the call with trepidation. She had arrived home the previous day to find Davy in bed with Sonia, her supposedly best friend. After blacking her husband's eye and ripping lumps of hair from her ex-friends head, she had packed a case and headed for her mothers, spending last night on the couch.

There just wasn't enough room in the house for her to stay longer than maybe a couple of nights, which was why her mother had rung her brother. The thought of staying with him was Moira's worst nightmare, thinking back to when they were both teenagers and how they had fought like cat and dog.

He'd had spikey unmanageable hair, wore prescription glasses and was skinny as a rake. Getting him to utter more than two words was a chore and he would go out of his way to annoy her, especially in the presence of her friends.

Her mother returned and gave her a slip of paper, 'This is Adam's address, he said it's ok for a few weeks and is expecting you. Please, for my sake, try and get on.'

Moira packed up her few belongings from last night, stuffing them into her bag and taking it out to the car. She hadn't a clue where her brother lived so put his address into the sat-nav, surprised when it told her that it was an eighty-mile journey to the city.

Moira lived in the next town to her mother, and while over the years she had visited the city a few times, it was not somewhere she frequented. The afternoon was warm and bright as she put the roof down on the coupe, tying a headscarf in place to protect her hair and donned her sunglasses.

The journey took her just over an hour and a half, the roads busy as she came into the city outskirts. Following the directions, she skirted the suburbs, advancing nearer and nearer to the centre. She had imagined that her brother lived in a high-rise block or perhaps one of the old townhouses that had been sub-divided into flatlets.

Imagine her surprise as the sat-nav declared that she had arrived at her destination, looking up at the modern glass and steel building. Outside was a "drop off only zone" and she was unsure where to park as a smartly dressed doorman approached her.

'Can I help you, Madam?' He politely asked, directing her to do a left and left again which would bring her to the visitor parking bays.

Putting the roof back up, she locked her car and made her way back around to the front, the concierge holding the door open for her and giving directions.

'Apartment 8 Madam. The lift is just around the corner and you need the fourth floor.'

As the lift rose, Moira took stock of her surroundings. Surely her mother had got it wrong, there was no way Adam was living in something like this. A 'squat' she decided, was more his style.

Leaving the lift, she could have turned left or right, the sign on the wall opposite, pointing left for apartment seven and right for apartment number eight.

She walked slowly down the short corridor, pushing the doorbell button and hearing the soft melodic chimes from within. It took a moment before the door was opened by a young man, Moira staring at him in surprise, 'Adam?'

'Hello, Moira!' She picked up on the hint of surprise in his voice as he stood back and invited her in, leading her down the hall and into the lounge.

Is it really you?' She had to ask because there was no way that the young man stood in front of her, resembled the brother that she remembered.

Dressed in a white polo shirt that fitted him like a glove and teamed with beige trousers, he looked every bit like one of those well to do, upper-class people, that you would see on the TV.

Gone was the spiky straggly hair, in its place, a sensible gentleman's cut. No longer was he wearing those prescription glasses, she suspected that he now wore contact lenses. But it wasn't just the clothes. He had filled out since she had last seen him at her wedding, his body looked toned and with a slight tan, as much as she hated to admit it to herself, he was bloody handsome.

'Still catching flies, I see,' Adam said with a laugh,

Moira was suddenly aware that she was stood there staring at him with her mouth open, 'I'm sorry, you just look......so different, I wouldn't have recognised you.'

Adam took it as a compliment, but he wasn't the only one that had changed. At her wedding, Moira could at best, have been described as chubby. And her supposedly, page boy hairstyle looked like someone had plonked a basin on her head and had just cut around the rim.

While the woman in front of him was definitely his sister, she was now slim, 'No,' he thought to himself, 'She was more than slim, she was fit.'

The jeans she wore looked like they had been sprayed on and her waist was tiny, which only emphasised her bust, making it look huge. She had changed her hair colour as well. Before she had been a mousey brown, now her shoulder-length hair had been permed and was a striking auburn colour with flashing hints of red in it, overall, he thought, she looked stunning.

'Can I offer you a drink?' He asked.

Moira settled for a gin and tonic as she wandered around the lounge inspecting all the furnishings and gadgets. At the far end, next to the plate glass window giving amazing views across the city was a single reclining chair, the one that Adam had earlier been sat in.

In the corner behind that was a top-end hi-fi system that easily must have cost him five grand or more. The centre of the large room held three cream couches, grouped in a half-circle in front of the largest TV screen she had ever seen. At the other end of the lounge was the dining area which led off to the kitchen at one side of it and a small bar area next to that.

'How much is it costing you to rent this?' She casually asked, even more, surprised when he told her he owned it.

With their drinks in hand, he directed her to the couches, she sat on one, while he sat on another opposite.

'What happened then?' he enquired.

Moira giving him a quick rundown of what she had found when she had returned home the other day.

The conversation between them was stilted, it had been seven years since they had spoken and even then, it was not as though they were close.

'Girlfriend?' She asked, getting a shake of his head in return.

'Ever?' She asked again, immediately regretting the inflexion in her voice.

With hooded eyes, Adam launched into the longest speech that Moira had ever heard.

'Yes! I've had some girl's,' he omitted the word "friends".

'I'm not gay and I do like women, but I have no need for a relationship, it gets in the way. I've found that most women I've met tend to be high maintenance once you're in a relationship with them and I don't need that in my line of work, I need the quiet.

'I like the fact that I can do what I want when I want, and no one complains about it. So, I tend to spend most of my time alone.

'Yes, I go out, I like the cinema and theatre. I go out to restaurants and when I want, I escape the city and drive out into the country. I love my work and it pays me well and for the moment, that is the most important thing in my life.'

Moira was astounded, she had never heard him say so much at one go, in the past it would be a single sentence and usually derogatory.

'What is it you do?' she inquired, trying to stifle a laugh when he told her he designed computer games.

'I wouldn't have thought that paid well,' she'd replied, her mouth dropping open again when he told her how much he had earned in the last five years.

It had suddenly dawned on her that Adam earned as much in a year as her husband Davy would probably have earned in ten years, and he had, as far as she was concerned a well-paid job.

'I bought this with the royalties from my first title release,' he told her, his hand indicating the apartment.

'If you give me your car keys, I'll get the porter to move it into the underground garage and bring your luggage up,' he said, holding out his hand.

Moira retrieved her keys and handed them over, watching as Adam disappeared from the room. She could hear him on the intercom and then a short while later the doorbell played its little tune.

Returning to the lounge, he beckoned to her, Moira getting to her feet and following.

'I've two guest bedrooms, you can pick whichever one you like,' he said as he showed her the two rooms and allowed her to make her own choice.

The doorbell chimed again, and her cases were rolled into the hallway.

I'm going to go down for a swim while you settle in, if you feel like coming down, you'll find towels and dressing gowns in the closet there.' He waved his hand towards a door.

'Take the lift and press the button B1 for the basement first level. You'll come out directly onto the poolside.' And with that, he disappeared toward his own room.

Moira unpacked her cases, putting clothes into drawers and wardrobes before walking to her bedroom window and gazing out.

'Who would have thought it?' Her brother had done well for himself she thought, but presently she could not get over how much he had changed.

Rummaging through her clothes she found a bikini that she had worn the last time she and Davy went on holiday and changed into it before going to the closet Adam had indicated and got herself a couple of towels and a white towelling robe.

She closed the door to the apartment, making her way to the lift and pressing the button he had said, her stomach suddenly lurching as the lift dropped and within seconds, the doors opened and she stepped out into the most luxurious swimming pool she had ever seen.

Going over to one of the seats that lined either side, she watched as Adam powered his way through the water. Completing length after length, his turns each time were like an Olympic swimmer, taking him under the water. It felt so strange watching him, as a kid, he could not be persuaded to go into water that was deeper than his knees, let alone swim.

Putting her robe to one side, she stood at the edge of the pool awaiting his return and then diving in as he did his roll. He had already done several lengths, but still, she had to put everything she had into it to match him stroke for stroke, exhausted when she reached the far end and watching him turn once more and head down the pool. Finally, he had stopped, waiting at the far end as she lazily swam the length back to him.

'When did you learn to swim?' She asked him, 'You used to be so afraid of the water.'

'I used to be afraid of a lot of things,' he responded, 'But I think most of all, about embarrassing myself. Once I found there was a pool here, I took lessons, and now I swim twice a day.'

Moira watched as he climbed from the water, his swim shorts sticking to his body. His shoulders were wide she noted, tapering down to his slim waist and perfect bottom, the thought instantly dismissed as she scolded herself for even thinking it.

She had been ready to laugh it off until he turned with his towel to dry his back, Moira's eyes were instantly drawn to the bulge in the front of his shorts. As many times as she diverted her gaze, her eyes were drawn back to it and to make matters worse, she was experiencing a familiar feeling below the waterline.

She waited until he had tied a towel around his waist and moved towards one of the loungers before exiting the pool. Now it was Adams turn to watch her as she got out, her bikini clinging to her and hiding very little. She turned her back to him as she retrieved her towel, most of her buttocks exposed by the tiny slip of hi-cut material.

As she dried her hair and shoulders, her breasts bounced and wobbled, threatening to spill from the tiny cups attempting to support them and despite Adams best efforts, it was only the towel that hid his modesty as his cock began to thicken.

Finally, they made their way back to the apartment, going to their respective rooms to shower and change before eventually meeting back in the lounge. As evening approached, Adam asked if she wanted to go out for their evening meal.

'Is it a get dressed up, type of place?' She asked.

Adam shook his head, 'Not tonight, I thought we could just grab a pub meal if that's ok.'

Moira was happy with that, she had just emptied drawers rapidly, not taking notice of what she packed, more or less, just essentials, but nothing suitable for somewhere posh. The venue he picked was busy but not overly so, meaning they didn't have to wait long to be served. He got them drinks and Moira initiated the conversation, getting the feeling that if she didn't, he would sit in silence all evening.

She found it became easier after he'd had a couple of drinks, getting comments out of him as they ate their food and purposely ordering more drinks as their plates were cleared away. Adam was not really used to drinking much, he would normally have a glass of wine with his meal, or occasionally if he went out with friends, a couple of pints of beer.

Usually, he would consume soft drinks and couldn't even remember the last time he had been slightly drunk. He had already drunk three glasses of wine when Moira ordered another, her brother chatting away quite amicably now.

'How come we never got on Adam?' She asked him seriously.

He considered before answering, 'I suppose the age difference didn't help us, plus I was always getting bullied at school. Then I came home, and you bullied me.'

Moira was shocked to realise that what he said was probably true, she knew she could be a bitch back then. He continued with his answer, oblivious to the shocked look on her face.

'And then as you got older, you were so much up your own arse, it was unbelievable. I'm sure you honestly thought you deserved the best of everything without doing anything to earn it. I, on the other hand, knew what I wanted, and I knew I would have to work hard to achieve it. Well, here I am, was it worth it, sometimes I wonder.'

Adam had finished his drink and ordered them another. He was pissed and now in full flow, unburdening himself of the things he had kept bottled up for years.

'And then you went and married Davy, the man who must be a complete and utter braindead numpty. Let's face it, you were not the most prized catch, you were overweight, and that page boy cut did nothing for you, and yet he still married you. Look at you now you're absolutely gorgeous with a stunning figure, sex on legs,' he hiccupped, 'and now he decides to cheat on you, the man must be an idiot!'

Moira was gobsmacked, not knowing what to say, she couldn't remember Adam ever saying anything nice about her, and yet despite slagging her off, he had just paid her a huge compliment.

As the evening drew to a close Moira ordered them a taxi. Adam was too far gone to attempt to walk home and she wasn't sure on how to get back to the apartment. The cab dropped them outside and she helped him inside and into the lift, finally taking the key off him and opening the apartment door as there was no way he was going to get the key into that tiny hole in a month of Sundays.

Getting him into his bedroom was no mean feat as his legs seemed to have gone completely now.