LADY FAIRFIELD LET THE FRIENDS crash at her stately private island. She let Rafel go by morning, with a promise to visit in a fortnight, at the end of the month, on a full moon, on Reziah and Keziah twentieth birthdays, when he would—in the most impure of times—malevolently smash the twins to breathless squats.
Israfel was more than happy to help, and in anticipation for the fete, for he had in passing the foyer seen a large oil portrait of the entire Fairfield house: both girls standing behind their mother in a Victorian seat.
The girls were not ugly.
Their looks however were of no consequence to Rafel who found their greatest assets to be the sizeable accents in front and behind. Raziah and Keziah brought a new meaning to the word, curves. If the little planned tryst of a birthday surprise did happen, he'd need more than two hands to grapple the luscious fountains of cream he saw in that painting.