“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.