“Conservative,” she gasped and spluttered. “Oh my.”“What on earth are you on about?” I asked. “It isn’t as funny as all that.”“Isn’t it?” she responded. “You’ll see, won’t you?”The day of the trip, we went together to the railway station quite early in the morning. The first train we took was to another city an hour to the north, where we changed to another train that took us three hours to the west, to a smaller station where we changed to yet another train, this one that stopped everywhere and trundled along so slowly that cars on the highway zoomed past.“Believe it or not, this is called an express,” Dina said. There was hardly anyone on the train, because at every tiny stop people got off and nobody got on. “I always say that it’s because they exclude anyone in a pressing hurry.”I’m mildly ashamed to admit that I laughed.The shadows were getting long when the train finally decided to wander into Dina’s station, which seemed even smaller than the rest. We were the only people to. As Emily's twins got older they appeared to enjoy living with us and became, with their mother, an integral part of our family.I can't put my finger on exactly when they started to refer to me as their father. I think the first time I was aware that they were actually calling me dad was when I heard one of them say to the other, "You'll have to ask dad, if he knows." It was some help that she needed with school homework, I think, and what with my three boys calling me dad all the time, I didn't notice it at first.But as time went on, I became aware that all of the children were referring to Cecilia and Emily as their mothers. There were subtle differences in actually how they referred to them, mind you, I came to notice that my son would call Cecilia Mum and Emily mother. Emily's twin girls did the reverse. But somewhere along the line, I became "dad" to all of the children. That was to prove somewhat interesting at school open days and parent teacher meetings etc, that I always made.
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