In a way, once Uncle Dalton had died, I think a part of Aunt Molly died too. She was still a hard worker and remained a good mother to Winston and Clement. Indeed, the routine of running the house was something she no longer needed any help with. My parents and Uncle Dalton's parents — my grandparents — all helped Aunt Molly with the decision making. But the cheerfulness that we had come to expect from her had gone. It was as if all her cheerfulness had died with Uncle Dalton, her 'dear Dally'. She got some money from the bus company because Uncle Dalton had been killed at work. At least she didn't have to leave the twins in order to earn money.
Life continued.
The twins grew into fine boys. But by the time they were fourteen they wanted to see a bit more of the world outside their comfortable home. Both of them were bright and interested in the world outside. Especially Winston. They were beginning to get bored with life at home with all its safe routines.
That's where the trouble really began. Aunt Molly had not really changed since their father's death. She had not even learned to read properly. She never went out and had no outside interests. She spent what free time she had listening to the radio or watching the television, especially game shows.
The boys, though they loved their mother, wanted to decide more things for themselves. And like me, they wanted to go out more. Aunt Molly, however, just wanted to stay at home all the time. The boys never went out much with their mother - whenever they did go out, it was with me and my parents or with our grandparents. Aunt Molly always stayed at home.