Needless to say, my reunion with Mum after more than a year of enforced separation went on for some time, and between the tearful hugs and exclamations over how much I'd grown, it was a good while before we could peel ourselves off each other. I then met my stepfather, and right off the bat, we took to each other like a duck to water. It wasn't long before he had me in stitches with his dry humour and wise-ass remarks, and I could now see where Oliver got his sense of humour from.
The house in St Albans was one of those interesting, quirky houses that had been built somewhere in the 1800s, and it had twisting passages, small flights of stairs leading up or down into various rooms, communicating doors leading into bedrooms and bathrooms, and a gloriously overgrown garden that had its own fair share of hidden nooks and crannies. Oliver had grown up here until the marriage between his parents had broken down, and then he'd moved to Oxford to live there full time, with the house being hotly contested between Sally and George. Sally, much like my own father, had had no real vested interest in the place - she wanted it more so she could deny it to George. Luckily, the courts had ruled in George's favour, and he'd moved here with Mum three months ago. They were now hard at work getting the place back into good condition, and whenever I wasn't exploring the town, I pitched in with a will.
The town of St Albans itself was a glorious hodgepodge of shops, more heritage buildings than you could poke a stick at, and a smattering of natural attractions. Oliver, who knew the place like the back of his hand, acted as a tour guide, and I learned quite a lot about the place during my week there - a week that ended up passing way too quickly. I took a million photos, and Fanny never missed an opportunity to make a snarky remark whenever I made a post to social media. Since I wasn't allowed to block her - per Sally's orders - I simply replied politely to each comment, pretending she'd made them in good humour. This did Not Please her At All, and, three days into my stay, Sally called to give me the third degree.
'I don't appreciate you being so mean to your sister,' she told me that evening. 'You should know better than to treat her that way. I've half a mind to get you under guardianship and removed from that house.'
I sighed. "Well, Fanny started it," I said. "I'm not stooping to her level; I'm giving her remarks the consideration they deserve. And good luck trying to get me removed; George's got a restraining order on you and Dad."47Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡboQxkEBQa9
Sally didn't even bother replying to that; moments later I heard a vicious click, and I laughed as I dropped the phone on the bedside table before flopping back with a sigh. "I hate her," I said to the ceiling. 47Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7bfX2teuwc
"Who - my bitch stepmother or my bitch stepsister?" Oliver inquired from the doorway. Oddly, neither George nor Mum had raised any objections when Oliver had suggested he and I share his old bedroom. In fact, they'd beem more than amenable to the suggestion, and I found it very comforting to lie in his arms at night, as we talked about this and that, or listened to the sound of the wind through the pine trees dotting the property. And it was equally pleasurable to wake up in his arms the next morning. That we were stepsiblings didn't matter - he was good company, and I enjoyed being around him.
"Both," I groused. "Honestly, they're both cut from the same damn cloth, and I'm heartily sick of the pair of them. These last few months are going to drag by, I swear."47Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk6g9aPLMyC
I was also unhappy for another reason - Oliver was due to return to Oxford the day before Fanny and I were due to return to school, and I didn't like the prospect at all. We hadn't really discussed it, not wanting to mar our precious time together, but sometimes, the pain came to the surface too strongly to be denied, as it did now. And when we returned home, Fanny would pounce. It was now no secret just how much Oliver and I cared for one another, and while Sally and Dad actively encouraged our closeness - thinking they had another means by which they could control me - Fanny was exceedingly displeased. She'd make the last week of holidays a misery and monopolise Oliver's time as much as possible - like her mother, solely to deny me the chance to get as much time with him before we had to go our separate ways for the forseeable future. 47Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3gAM7KxEFw
Oliver didn't say anything as he joined me on the bed - he didn't need to - and as we lay there, listening to the sound of a sudden rainstorm which had swept in, I made a silent vow to make sure Fanny did not get her way when we got home. She'd bitch and moan and make life almost unbearable, but I was not letting her win this one. 47Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl0ibpNkytt
"It won't be that long," Oliver assured me, kissing me on the forehead after a little while of silence. "Believe me, before you know it, the year will be over, and then you can fuck them all off and get set up in Preston. Or you and I could take off in the Kombi and really fuck them all off."
"Don't tempt me," I said. "I want to get in the Kombi tonight and never come back."47Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQdScvbejsS
"Don't you tempt me," Oliver said, laughing. "That's the beauty of having a home away from home." He paused. "You know," he went on, "I could park the Kombi in the backyard, steal their wifi, and study remotely. Sally's been moaning about how she never sees me - for all that she can't stand the sight of me! - and she thinks I've got you snowed."
"You've got me snowed, just not in the way she thinks," I said, smirking as I kissed him on the cheek. So far we hadn't kissed on the lips, but I sensed it was close, and Oliver tightened his grip. I half thought that time might come now, but a discreet knock at the door halted it, and Oliver sighed as he pressed his forehead to mine. "Supper," he groused, and I laughed.
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