After Forever Ends (9 page)

Oliver’s father smiled pleasantly and took my hand. He was heavier than I expected him to be as well, but tall and broad shouldered like his sons. There was no doubt who the twins took after in looks; dark hair, dark eyes, but a much larger nose and more Middle Eastern appearance than Alex or Ollie. Still the same charming smile. I bet when he was a young man he was quite smart, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Silvia. May I help you with your bag?”

“If you’d like, Sir.”

“I’ve got it,” Oliver hoisted the bag on to his shoulder.

“Come on! Come on!” Missus Dickinson began to usher us along the platform with a smile, “Let’s go home!”

I sat in the back seat of the car between Oliver and Alexander. Each of them took one of my hands and held it. Alexander laid his head on my shoulder. Missus Dickinson chatted about how excited she was that Oliver, who was always shy with women, finally had a steady girl.

“Xander’s had plenty of girlfriends,” She carried on, “He’s quite popular with the girls, but Oliver’s so fussy we didn’t think he’d ever find anybody good enough for him, did we, Edmond?” Their father grunted. She continued, I think, without hearing him, “So when Xan said Ollie had a girlfriend at Bennington we were right curious. Usually when we mention dating to Oliver he shrugs at us, so when he kept on about you, we knew you must be someone special.”

“Oh, yeah, Mum,” Alexander told her, “’Cause all my girlfriends have been slovenly trollops not worthy of any notice at all!”

“That’s not what I meant, Xan.”

“Oh, aye! Yes, you did! I’ll date anything! Won’t I, Mum?”

“Alexander, you know that’s not what I meant!”

“Well, it’s not all wrong,” Oliver noted, grinning widely, “You did date Vivian.”

Alexander laughed. “Oh, aye! Vivian! She was a right slut!”

“ALEXANDER!” Both of his parents shouted at the same time.

Alex’s face turned bright red, “Well, she was! And it doesn’t matter now anyway because I’m in love with Silvia!”

Oliver was sniggering. “She was a right slut, Vivian was!”

“OLIVER!” Both the parents shouted again.

The boys seemed to think this was very funny.

“It’s all right, Mum,” Oliver assured her as he squeezed my hand, “Alex is in love with my Sil now anyway.”

“Yeah and Sil’s definitely not a slut,” Alexander grinned, giving be a quick nudge.

“Yeah!” Oliver agreed. “Not like that filthy Vivian! I’d never bring some outrageous tramp into your home the way your Xander did! Put her right under your nose, he did!”

Alexander laughed again, but louder, “You have no idea what that girl wanted to do to your sons under your own roof, Mother!”

“To both of us at the same time, Mum!” Oliver interjected, “She was a deranged slut!”

“STOP IT!” Their mother turned and glared at her twins, “NOW!”

“THE NEXT PERSON TO USE THE WORD SLUT IS GOING TO BE PUNISHED!” Their father barked. I could see him eyeing the boys in the mirror, “AM I UNDERSTOOD?”

“Yes, Sir,” They answered in unison. Both of them quieted and slumped in their seats.

They were both silent for a moment before Alexander innocently asked, “Well, can we say she was a whore then?”

“ALEXANDER!”

“Just checking! Settle down!”

I caught on quickly to the fact that the boys took great pleasure in bringing their parents to the brink of insanity.

Everything was quiet again for a few moments.

“So if Oliver were to agree to share Silvia with me,” Alexander began casually as he snuggled against me and caressed my hand. Although it seemed innocent enough, it was actually quite a sexy manoeuvre that made me involuntarily lean in his direction, “And both of us married her, let’s say, and turned mum’s house into a polygamist commune, would all of us being madly in love with each other be considered twincest?”

“No, twincest would be if I fell in love with you and you with me,” Oliver leaned forward to look at his brother. “And that’s wrong on so many levels I can’t even begin.”

“But wait! Think about it, Ol. If Sil loved us both passionately and we both loved her with equal passion, wouldn’t we all be guilty of twincest? I mean, if we were both married to her, we’d all be related. The children would be cousins and half-siblings both, plus they’d be their own step-siblings as well! We’d be twin brothers in law!”

“Silvia is mine,” There was a certain warning to Oliver’s voice, “But, yes, I suppose that might be twincest, considering the children. I’m not sure. Still, she’s not interested in that sort of thing.” Oliver moved nearer to me on the other side, drew me close and eyed his brother carefully. It was a protective gesture, “It was Vivian who was the one so keen on twincest, remember?”

“She was! She was all about twincest! Did she show you…”

“Yes! But don’t say it!” Oliver held up a hand, “Mum won’t want to know! That Vivian was an immense slut! Gifted, though!”

“In bloody abundance!”

“THAT’S IT!” Edmond roared, “I’LL HAVE NO MORE OF THIS CONVERSATION! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?”

I could feel my cheeks burning. Oliver and Alexander chuckled from either side of me.

“Just having a laugh, Dad.” Alex replied calmly.

“Jeez, Old Man, calm down!” Oliver added.

“Yeah, honestly! We’re planning on getting jobs and our own place before we indulge in any of that!” Alexander said seriously, “We’d need to be able to afford a whole lot of plastic, you see! Twincest can get right good and messy! Noisy, too, and you need a lot of space for it…”

“ALEXANDER!”

“Leave him alone!” Oliver objected, “At least he didn’t say slut!”

“OLIVER!”

Both the boys kissed me on either cheek. They were obviously quite pleased with themselves.

I was so embarrassed I thought I’d die.

If their home were any reflection of their riches, I would have said they were well contented. The building was a newer three story brick and wood dwelling with five bedrooms and had every modern amenity known to man. The rooms were all comfortably furnished, tastefully decorated and covered with plush carpeting. Missus Dickinson had a large, lovely garden, complete with a huge ornamental birdbath, and Mister Dickinson kept his car in a well-organized garage. It was difficult to believe that Alexander and Oliver came from such deliberate parents. Their home was beautiful, but not spontaneous or unreserved, as I would have expected it or their parents to be, considering how free spirited the twins were.

Powys, Wales, is a gorgeous area of the United Kingdom. Most of Wales is gorgeous, in fact. It offers everything from waterfalls to caves to rolling hills, meadows, beaches and mountains. After being locked away at Bennington since my arrival to the country, the only place I'd seen was Brecon Beacons, where Ollie had taken me one Saturday to go hiking. That set aside, there were endless things that I had not had the opportunity to see and Oliver was determined to show them to me. Borrowing Missus Dickinson’s car did not seem to be any sort of issue, so the boys and I spent most of our days outside the house exploring the countryside. We’d arrive back home just in time for supper.

I quite liked their mum. She was kind and funny, a bit stiff, but surprisingly saucy once you got to know her. She enjoyed her bitters as much as she did her tea, but you never saw her drinking it until after eight when she'd finished her bath and slipped into her yellow dressing gown and pink slippers and sank on to the sofa beside her husband. They were so cute, the two of them, as they leaned against each other and watched their nightly television shows. I'd never seen a married couple who acted like them, who seemed to be so happy and content together. Edmond would put his arm around her and say, “How's my girl?” and she'd smile and reply, “Ready for a cwtch, Darling.” There they'd stay on the sofa until he nodded off and she woke him up long enough to lead him to bed.

It was beautiful. I was amazed at how Oliver and Alexander didn't even seem to notice. I dreamed of having a set of parents like that and it bothered me how much the boys took them for granted. I suppose when you're raised with it it's nothing you'd even consider, but I considered it. I considered it a lot.

The boys had gotten much of their sense of humour from their mother, especially the off handed, light hearted teasing Oliver was famous for. Their devotion to the woman was obvious. All she had to do was mention that something needed to be done and one or both of them were on it.

“Oh, shit,” She'd muttered one afternoon from the kitchen, “I forgot jam.”

“What kind, Mum?” Alex popped up, “I'll walk by and get it.”

It was always like that. They adored her. It was obvious as well that she was mad about her boys. She catered to most of their whims without hesitation.

“Mum, I was wondering if you might make those chocky biscuits with the nuts in them?” Oliver asked one afternoon as he popped an entire scone into his mouth.

Ana gave him a look to remind him of his manners, then smiled when she saw he couldn't chew it whole and handed him her coffee cup, “Soften it up, Piggy, there's no rush. Always in such a hurry to eat. You'll weigh a ton one day,” She patted his shoulder, “I'll get right to them then, Love. Chocky with nuts.”

Ollie put his hand on the top of her head as he brought the cup to his lips, a non-verbal expression that said, “Thank you,” and “I love you” all at once, loud as anything.

That sort of thing was extremely normal for them and entirely alien to me, all that love and attention.

“What are you three going to do today?” Ana asked pleasantly one morning after Edmond had gone to work. “Have you taken Silvia to Powys Castle yet, Boys?”

“Yes, Mum,” Alexander took the milk bottle from the counter. “We went to all the must sees and terrorized all the tourists. Had her in Gwent as well. We could head by Swansea, but if it's all the same can we take your car to London?”

“I imagine you did. Swansea is lovely,” She responded softly without looking at him, “And absolutely no to London.”

Alexander laughed as he sat at the table next to me and plunged a spoon into his cereal. He looked quite tired since he’d sneaked out the night before and had wandered in around sunrise smelling like he’d been dunked in a tank of ale. “We’ve taken her to all the caves and the falls as well. I left Ollie alone with her to take her to the more romantic, secret bits.”

“Well, that was nice of you, Xan, wasn't it?” Ana yanked a pot off the stove just as it began to boil over. “So, Oliver, you took her to see the falls? What did you think, Silvia?”

“Wales is lovely, Ma’am.”

She smiled at me and nodded, delighted with my approval as she returned to the stove.

“Yeah, we’ve done all that, Mum. Since you won’t let us go to London, we were thinking about going into town next,” Oliver sounded completely serious. “And seeing what we could do to get ourselves kicked out of someplace.”

She nodded, but didn't look at her son, “Oh, aye! That’ll be a good time! That’ll take the two of you about a quarter hour! Poor Silvia being led about Welshpool by the sinister likes of you!”

Both of the boys laughed.

“Don’t let her fool you. Mum’s a right naughty one!” Oliver told me.

“Naughty-ish,” Ana corrected, turning to us and setting her hands on her hips, “I have ideas, but no inclination to carry them out.”

“Oh, Mum taught us all we knew, originally,” Alexander said proudly. He stood and walked to her where he wrapped his arm around his mother’s shoulder. Oliver followed suit, “She didn’t mean to, it just sort of slipped. The rest we invented!”

“Mum’s younger brother taught us about soaping windows and creative uses for rotten fruit. He gives Mum full credit for showing him,” Oliver kissed the side of her head, “She tries to tell us she was not a troublemaker in her day, but we don’t believe her.”

“Not at all!” She protested, “I was an angel!”

“Like us!” The boys put their faces together and fluttered their eyelids. “Angels!”

“Yes, angels! That’s why your father has you off at boarding school all year and working full time in the summer! Because you’re angels!”

“Dad just can’t take a joke,” Oliver explained.

Their father was different. He was warm and friendly, too, but he had a temper that rivalled Alex’s and he frequently lost it on the boys. Oliver had not been kidding. Edmond came home and usually within a few seconds was shouting.

“ALEXANDER! OLIVER! COME DOWN HERE NOW!” He waited for them at the bottom of the stairs as he removed his jacket and shoes.

They came down the steps with their best innocent faces.

“Which one of you exchanged my hard boiled eggs for non-boiled ones in my lunch today?” He asked as if he weren’t even slightly upset, but his face was red, “It was quite a surprise when I went to crack the one in front of my supervisor at lunch and it was RAW!” He began to shout, “IT MADE A MESS ON EVERYTHING!”

“Blimey, Dad! No idea!” Alexander looked at Oliver, “I never did that! I’d never do that! Did you do it?”

Oliver’s eyes were wide, “No! Why would I do such a thing? Dad, you simply must have grabbed the wrong eggs in your rush this morning!”

“What a terrible mistake!” Alexander interjected. “Grabbing the wrong eggs! Bugger! What a bother that must have been!”

“You really do need to be more careful, Dad,” Oliver finished.

“You two are the wrong eggs,” Edmond muttered, “I should have been more careful when we were conceiving you is what I should have been! When do you go back to school?”

“Not soon enough for you!” They replied in unison.

“Go away,” He mumbled.

He was, however, always nice to me. He came into the kitchen where I was sitting with his wife, kissed her, and smiled broadly at me, “Good evening, Silvia!” He placed a hand on my shoulder, “How are you, Sweetheart? I trust my sons are treating you, at least, with kindness and respect?”

“They are, Sir.” I smiled at him. He really was very handsome and I genuinely liked him. He always made me feel welcome in his presence, even when he was ready to murder his two sons.

“I’ve told you to not call me Sir!” He laughed, and patted my back, “Please! The only people required to call me Sir are that set of toxic demons when they’re in trouble! Call me Ed!”