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She was actually my step-mom while the real mother of the twins.

They were a year younger than me, and it seemed they could get away with anything, often redirecting the blame onto me somehow.

I thought for a while, then came up with a plan.“Okay, but it’s a pants-off dare.” A pants-off dare was a tradition Glenton and I invented. It didn’t matter in the dark under the house, you couldn’t see anything.

But it felt daring anyway.“You’ll just turn on your flashlights! We don’t have any,” I replied (nudging Glenton with my toe).“Promise? I could hear a rustling as they both sat cross legged on the carpet opposite us.

They teased and bullied me relentlessly, but I guess I gave as good as I got.

Our mother tried to keep a lid on it with some strict discipline for us all.

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I’m going to show you what happens to wicked boys who look up girls’ skirts! I carefully wiggled my feet so that, at least, I could slowly bring my legs together.“Mum! ”Looking up at the internal window I saw my mother cover the mouthpiece. Around the base, it felt like it was almost torn off. Turn around and apologise to your sisters.”How could I look them in the face? Standing naked in front of them I said I was sorry.“What for?Then more rustling as first one, then the other removed their skirts.“And undies,” I insisted.More rustling ensued.“Okay, here’s the whisky.” I held the bottle out in the dark.So here goes: think I was 16 or 17 when this happened.I had always had ‘issues’ with the twins; squabbling, arguing, sometimes even fighting.

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