CHAPTER TWO
The train journey was at least exciting. It was the first time the two boys had
left London since their parents died. By the time they arrive at the small rural
station it was dark. Helen scuttled around trying to find a taxi and an hour
later they pulled into a ramshackle farmyard at the end of a long valley.
Before Helen could knock on the door Aunt Maureen opened it. "Mrs Ashley?" Helen
asked, "I'm Helen Summers, Social Services. I've got Alan and John with me". The
boys looked up at their aunt. She stood framed in the light from the kitchen
with her hands on her hips.
"Well they better come in then." Her tone was not exactly welcoming. "And you
better get off, that taxi will be costing you."
The twins looked on as the taxi carrying their well-meaning Social Worker sped
away.
"YOU TWO - GET INSIDE," shouted their aunt. "Your bedroom's at the top of the
stairs on the left, now MOVE"
The two boys ran past her and up the stairs.
She shouted up the stairs at them "GET STRAIGHT TO BED YOU WILL BE UP AT 6".
Maureen Ashley was their mother's younger sister. She was not bad looking for 32
but always preferred her own company. He was about 5' 2", not too fat but with
very large breasts. She like cats and the rundown farm ran wild with them. When
her sister died she inherited two properties in London from her which she
promptly sold and bought the farm in Scotland. She had enough money put away to
make her financially independent - not that she spent much on either herself or
the farmhouse. When she was contacted about the twins her first reaction was to
tell the social service to get lost. Then she thought it might be useful to have
someone to tidy things up. The boys would be 16 in two years and then she could
kick them out.
In the weeks that followed Alan and John began to realise that the orphanage was
not such a bad place. Here they had to be up at 6 every morning to feed the cats
and to make Maureen her breakfast. Then came the house chores that had to be
done before they cycled 12 miles to the nearest town to school. Once home the
dinner had to be made, more chores and then they were packed off to bed about 8.
All this was interspersed with beatings and curses. In fact they were convinced
their aunt took some sadistic pleasure in beating them. Smacking their bare
backsides seemed to be her favourite. No matter what they did it wasn't good
enough. There always seemed to be some excuse for dragging one or both of them
across her knee and pulling their pants down.
On one occasion just before their 15th birthday Alan dropped a bottle milk on
the floor of the kitchen - there was glass and milk everywhere. Alan panicked.
"I'll clean it, I'll clean it", he shouted as he dropped to his knees mopping up
the milk and glass. Maureen stood with her arms folded across her chest and
watched as he cleaned the floor.
When he'd finished she sat down by the kitchen table with a garden cane in her
hand. "Pants off", she said smiling. With tears rolling down his cheeks Alan
dropped his jeans and shorts down to his ankles. His aunt looked scornfully at
his small flaccid prick. Grabbing him by the arm she dragged him across her
knee. "What have I told you about clumsiness", she said calmly as she lay stoke
after stroke across Alan's behind. Angry red welts formed quickly as the boy
screamed out. John was hiding upstairs with his hands over his ears.
When she was satisfied she let Alan get to his feet. As he bent down to pull up
his pants she noticed his prick - it was rock hard and was standing out a good
7".
"YOU DISGUSTING BOY", she screamed and lashed out with the cane. It struck
Alan's prick right in the middle. He let out an ear splitting scream and dropped
to the floor clutching himself. Instantly she realised she may have gone too
far, her tone softened. "On your feet now get to bed ". Alan stumbled up the
stairs where he fell into the arms of his brother. The bruising from the beating
and the lash across his prick kept him in bed for three days and John brought
him food and tea whenever he could. "We'll get the bitch don't worry Alan, we'll
get her". Alan turned into his pillow and smiled.
Maureen didn't acknowledge their birthday but they celebrated by taking their
passports and birth certificates down to the local bank. The manager was very
surprised when he checked their account. His patronising attitude turned to
fawning when he saw the balance. "Well I'm sure we could open up two current
accounts for you in a couple of days". "The joint account we have will do", they
said in unison. "What we really need is a debit card".
Every evening from then on they lay in bed making their plans. Their aunt hadn't
realised that they would be finishing school completely in three weeks just
before the long summer holidays. They played along with this. Then she announced
she was going away to Spain for a fortnight. I couldn't have worked out better.
