Cloner A Sci-Fi Novel About Human Clonin

Chapter 15

‘Bestie’s here, Mummy!’

Seb, up from his nap, nose glued to the playroom window, was watching for the first sign of Betsy Beste. Lisa joined him to see Betsy wave her right arm as she cycled through the gateway, endangering her equilibrium. Her sou’wester glistened with tiny droplets which ran runnels along her sleeves. Drizzling, not raining, Lisa saw. It was going to clear up.

Betsy wobbled the handlebars in an effort to balance the bulging plastic bag sitting in the basket at the front.

Seb was already by the open door. ‘Got my puddlers on,’ he jumped his greeting in the porch. ‘See? I’s green.’

Another lurch of the handlebars almost ended in a fall as Betsy narrowly missed Seb’s spotted cat. A large black patch over the left side of her face, dwarfing the profusion of smaller spots in ginger and brown on a pristine white body, made her look one-eyed.

‘Hold Kitty out of my way, Seb, please.’

Lisa felt a tightening in her chest as she realised Seb’s kitten didn’t just have poor vision; she was going blind, and rather more quickly than the vet she’d consulted had anticipated. The child was going to be heartbroken if his pet could not be saved. Seb bent down to keep his Kitty from bumping into Betsy.

‘Want to see the swans today.’

‘Good boy. Let Bestie put her bike away.’

‘Jansy’s got yellow, and Jeffers red, and Jiminy’s blue.’

‘What lovely new boots you’ve all been given. Are they a birthday present for the triplets?’

‘They’s not any present, they’s shoes!’

‘My mistake!’ Betsy laughed. ‘Let’s just help Mummy strap the triplets in the pushchair, shall we?’

‘I want to see the swans.’

‘Then the swans it shall be,’ Betsy agreed.

‘Meg’s bringing the twins over later,’ Lisa explained as she helped Betsy to secure the three toddlers in the pushchair harness. ‘So if you could manage to keep them out for a couple of hours? That’ll give Geraldine and me a chance to get the birthday tea together.’

Lisa and Alec had decided to celebrate the triplets’ birthday on the day the twins were born. Today was J-day.

‘Of course, Lisa. I’ll take them down the drove. Frank’s special foals are in the big field. There’s so many of them! And Seb does love to count. He’s getting really good at it.’

‘We’s going to see the swans! You promised.’

‘And we’ll see the swans on the way.’ Betsy was swinging Seb up and down as he chortled happily. ‘You’re getting such a big boy now, I can hardly lift you any more.’

‘He’s growing at a rate of knots.’ Lisa’s carefree laugh re-echoed round the porch. ‘Come on, Gerry. Where have you got to now?’

‘Just settling Duffers, Lisa.’

The girl’s wretched terrier, Lisa thought irritably. His snuffling searching snout, his slatted eyes and the way he burrowed after her toddlers worried her. They brought to mind TV pictures showing animals trained to sniff out drugs. Was Duffers a threat to her children, actually dangerous?

‘You said he wasn’t to go with them unless I was along,’ Geraldine reminded Lisa.

Still cuddling James to herself, kissing soft golden ringlets now haloing his head, Lisa pulled his blue plastic anorak hood up. ‘There you are, Jiminy. That’ll keep you dry.’ He was the most delicate of the three babies.

She turned to Betsy. ‘Alec won’t be able to make the birthday tea, I’m afraid. He’s up in Bristol for meetings all day. But he said he’d be back as soon as he can get away; he’ll see them all in bed if nothing else.’

‘We’ll have a lovely party,’ Betsy was cooing at the triplets. ‘Six little ones, balloons and jelly.’

‘And the rocking horse,’ Seb told her proudly.

‘Ssh, Seb.’ Lisa put her right index finger to her lips. ‘That’s the triplets’ big present. It’s still a secret.’

Apparently he hadn’t heard. ‘Daddy said I’m allowed the rocker, too.’

A fresh-faced Meg had walked her twins over the home meadow. They were clutching spring wildflowers in their hands: yellow tulips, snake’s head lilies, cuckoo-pint, even some early purple orchids. Paul made a little bow as he handed his bunch over to Lisa.

‘Aren’t they lovely? Shall we put them in a jam jar?’

Phyllis loped up to Lisa and solemnly handed her a package wrapped in cellophane. Lisa just prevented herself from stepping away from the child. She was shocked to find herself nervous of her, and forced herself to lean forward to kiss the little girl, taking the package from her. ‘And lardy cake as well. You are a dear, Meg.’

‘And this should keep we going.’ Meg had carted over a large pot of bramble jelly and two pints of clotted cream. ‘Fresh from the dairy,’ she told Lisa, pride in her voice. ‘Sally do make all the cream now. She specially sent this over.’

Had Meg forgotten that Janus was allergic to dairy products? She’d have to try and make sure he didn’t get any. ‘From the Jerseys?’ Lisa felt impelled to ask. ‘Where d’you graze them?’

‘Worried about producing quads?’ Meg teased her gently. ‘Be yer expecting again?’

Lisa, taken aback, covered her nervousness with laughter. She hadn’t allowed unwelcome submerged thoughts into her consciousness during that busy year. ‘Nothing like that,’ she said. ‘I think I’m very content with what I’ve got.’

The three babies had filled out, just in the way Rita had prophesied. To look at them now one would never guess they’d been so small at birth. Janus, in particular, was strong and on the podgy side, almost getting fat.

‘Betsy still out with they?’

‘Taken them to see Frank’s special foals.’

A momentary shadow seemed to cross Meg’s face. ‘Them doing very well, mostly,’ she said, jovial enough. ‘Though us did find a dead one t’other day. Did Betsy mention that? Us had far more than us expected. And so alike. Yer’d swear them were identical, leastways until them’s all together. Frank’s had top prices for they.’

‘Really?’ Lisa had no intentions of allowing stories about extraordinary numbers of twins or other multiples to come up. ‘I’ve got a special surprise for today – ’

‘Some on they do seem to go lame all on a sudden. Frank don’t rightly know why. They legs seem to bloat up, then stiffen. Perhaps us have bred them too fast. They mares bear strong healthy foals, but – ’

‘I gather they’re outstanding hunting stock.’

‘Me foot hurts, Mum. Want to take the brace off; yer promised.’

‘Yer sandal’s on too tight, Phyllie, that be all the problem.’ Meg bent to loosen the strap but stopped to glance up. ‘Right enough. Frank’s that keen on point-to-points, qualifying they hunters for the season.’ She straightened up again, helping the child to stand. ‘All right, my duck? Yer can walk straight now.’

‘It still hurts, Mum,’ Phyllis insisted plaintively. ‘Bites into us.’

‘Yer’ll be all right, Phyllis. Enough of that whining,’ Meg said sharply.

‘Hunters, not hunter, eh?’ Lisa interrupted, taken aback by Meg’s attitude to Phyllis. She’d never heard her speak as peremptorily as that to any of her children before. ‘You are getting grand. He’s actually going to race them, is he?’

‘So him do say.’

‘Here come the troops.’

Betsy looked out of breath. Lisa rushed over to help her unfasten the children. Pushing three one-year-olds up the steep drive was more than either of them could handle alone.

Janus, sitting in the centre, rocked backwards and forwards, raising fat arms and demanding to be first.

‘Wait a minute, Jansy. We’re going as fast as we can.’

A glint of fury twisted the child’s mouth into a long piercing scream. He turned sideways to pummel little James with flailing fists. The slighter child sat still, leaning away without fighting back.

‘Jansy.’ In spite of her instinct to unfasten James first and carry him in, Lisa undid Janus’s reins and helped him stand. He grasped the pushchair handle and began to force it up the drive with his two brothers still strapped to it. Lisa and Betsy stared in disbelief as the pushchair moved against the incline, then twisted to its side and starting going backwards.

‘Take Jansy, will you, Gerry?’ Lisa instantly put her foot by the wheels and pulled the brake on. ‘I’ll take Jiminy. Betsy, you get hold of Jeffers.’

The yapping of an excited Duffers drowned Janus’s shrieks as he and the dog pulled Geraldine in different directions.

‘Duffers! Heel, boy.’ The terrier’s barks subsided into snappish grunts. Geraldine hoisted Janus under her arm and strode into the house with him.

Lisa hugged James to herself, covering him with kisses. Janus was so aggressive. The child in her arms had tears on his cheeks, but he responded to her endearments with a smile. ‘Everybody in now? Good.’

A momentary hush as they all settled into the playroom allowed the loud knocking at the front door to penetrate.

‘That’s my surprise.’ Lisa, laughing and full of mystery, insisted on answering the door herself. ‘Just wait a moment,’ she giggled at them all. ‘See what I’ve got for you.’

The strong low tones of a man’s voice edged their way across the squeaks behind the playroom door.

‘It’s my Daddy,’ Seb shouted, bursting through.

‘Daddy’s coming later, Seb.’ Lisa took the child’s hand and held the playroom door wide open. ‘This is Matthew,’ Lisa flourished the young man through. ‘Look, Paul. He’s got a special rabbit for you.’

Paul and Phyllis, now nearly three, advanced on the rabbit in unison and were about to grasp its ears. They were not quick enough. The terrier, retired to the corner of the room, sprang forward and seized the animal by the neck and began to shake it.

‘Duffers!’ Geraldine rushed forward. ‘Let go, boy. Down!’ The terrier stood, his tail wagging furiously, unsure. The girl knelt down beside him and carefully, delicately, and with remarkable aplomb disengaged the dog’s teeth from the rabbit. ‘Sorry about that, Matthew,’ she smiled at the young man standing by.

He stood irresolute, waiting uncertainly, unclear what he was expected to do. Geraldine’s smile produced an answering one.

‘He can’t help going after rabbits. Hunting’s in his blood. I didn’t know you were coming, or I’d have kept him locked out.’ Geraldine grinned apologetically at Matthew, clicked the leash into the dog’s collar and led him from the room.

The rabbit, stunned but not hurt, sat still, allowing Phyllis and Paul to twist its ears. Janus’s eyes began to gleam as he heaved himself to his feet and staggered over. He managed several steps before he propelled himself by crawling, instead. A retinue of Jeffrey and James followed him.

‘Woa, there, young’uns,’ Matthew smiled doubtfully, clearly unnerved by so many human look-alikes.

‘I’ll keep them over here for you.’ Geraldine, now minus Duffers, grasped two of the triplets, one under each arm, and began to lend an unusual hand.

‘Let’s all sit down, shall we?’ Lisa suggested.

Cushions were strewn on the floor. The young conjurer, relieved, returned to his rabbit. Within no time at all he’d produced two more.

‘More, more,’ an excited Seb shouted as the fourth rabbit took its place beside the other three already assembled from the basket Matthew was pulling them out of. ‘More wabbits.’

Lisa shuddered slightly as she realised Seb might think his triplet brothers had appeared in the same way. ‘Rabbits, Seb.’

‘More bwabbits.’

A galaxy of pigeons now streamed out of Matthew’s pockets. Phyllis and Paul began to rush all round the room to catch them and, with Geraldine’s help, Matthew enmeshed the children in masses of brightly coloured silk scarves.

The ecstatic Seb was counting pigeons. ‘...six, seven, eight, nine,’ he shouted his delight.

James and Jeffrey first watched, round-eyed, then followed Janus’s lead by crawling under the gaudy streamers and the paper hats, grasping at them.

Lisa watched Janus, strong and raucous. His eyes gleamed bright as he hoisted himself upright and lunged a hand into Matthew’s left-arm sleeve. He was so quick the conjurer only just had the presence of mind to draw the bird out of the sleeve with him. A shrill dominating laugh filled the room as Janus grasped the pigeon’s claws and brandished the bird around his head.

Matthew produced more pigeons. They whirled throughout the room. Janus stood up and stretched out his arms. To Lisa’s amazement six identical white birds alighted on them. He grinned triumphantly. The child showed no fear whatsoever.

‘It’s time us be scrabbling home, Lisa,’ Meg finally announced, panting and laughing, rounding up Phyllis and Paul, stuffing paper hats and the remains of crackers into a plastic bag. ‘Such a lovely, lovely party. That be a stroke o’ genius, bringing in Matthew.’

‘I’m glad you enjoyed him. Thought it would give us all a bit of time to catch our breath.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ Meg puffed, now finding it harder than last year to control her two-some. ‘Wish us’d brought Sally and Jean along to see to they two.’

‘My foot hurts, Mum,’ Phyllis wailed. She’d sat down on the floor again and was twisting the brace in an effort to ease her foot. ‘Want it off!’

To Lisa’s amazement Meg didn’t immediately take any notice of Phyllis, didn’t smile. The gaiety had left her face as she turned impatiently to the child. ‘It baint right yet, Phyllie. Doctor’ll see to yer Monday.’ She turned to Lisa. ‘Us be taking she to Bristol Infirmary.’

‘She really does seem to be in pain, Meg. Can’t you just take it off? A day or two can’t make any difference, surely.’ Lisa looked more closely and saw that the brace was biting into part of Phyllis’ foot, the flesh swelling over the ankle.

Meg turned away. ‘Frank’s that particular,’ she said. ‘Won’t hear of it coming off.’ She looked at Lisa, her face drawn. ‘But Phillie do seem to be in pain. Could us borrow the Volvo to drive we home? Frank’ll bring ’un back directly.’

‘Of course, Meg. What a good idea. And don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere tonight. Frank can bring the car back any time before tomorrow morning. Hope Phyllie feels better soon.’ She pressed a final balloon into the child’s hand as Meg lifted her up and took her two children to the car.

‘It really has got late,’ Betsy Beste was worrying. ‘I’m sorry I can’t stay to help you bathe them, Lisa. Mandy’s got her new boyfriend coming round. I promised to give them supper.’

‘Don’t give it a thought, Betsy. Geraldine and I can manage perfectly well, can’t we, Gerry? The triplets are one year old! And I’ve only got to give them a quick wash,’ Lisa said, shunting her foursome upstairs with Betsy’s help. ‘They won’t need anything more to eat.’

‘I’ll help Matthew put his gear away,’ Geraldine announced, her back turned to Lisa.

‘And I’ll make sure the kitchen’s clear for you,’ Betsy was reassuring her. ‘Shall I just help you undress them and pop them in the bath?’

Within minutes the little boys sat, all four of them, in the bath together. A flotilla of plastic ducks swam between them. Lisa caught her breath as she looked at her family. Four enchanting little boys, perfectly formed, lively, bright.

‘Aren’t they a picture?’ Betsy was kissing them goodnight, wiping away a circle of blackberry jelly smeared round Janus’s mouth. ‘And Sebbie will help you, Lisa,’ Betsy went on. ‘He’s always so good with the babies.’

‘Seb help Mummy,’ he told Betsy solemnly. ‘Help Mummy with more bwothers.’

‘Brothers, Seb.’

‘Bye-bye, Sebbie; bye-bye Jansy; bye-bye Jeffers; bye-bye Jiminy,’ Betsy called gaily, retreating backwards through the bathroom door. They all waved back at her, splashing their hands, then raising them again.

Lisa knelt on the bathmat and started to bathe her children. She sponged squirming healthy bodies, enjoyed their beauty, their energy. Only Janus seemed rather plump and puffy. She made a note that she would cut down on the amount of cereal she gave him.

There was no sign of Geraldine, she noted irritably. Taking her time seeing Matthew off, presumably. How could she have allowed herself to be conned like that by the girl?

‘Sebbie, you come out first.’

He splashed the water harder, hitting his flat palm against it.

‘Come on, darling. You’ve got to be a big boy today and help Mummy get the triplets to bed. Okay?’

He splashed his hand one more time, then dutifully got up and let Lisa lift him out. Standing beside the bathtub Lisa’s heart turned over again as she thought of the many times her little Seb had had to take second place in the last year.

‘You sing Baa Baa Black Sheep to Jeffers while I get Jiminy dried,’ she went on, rubbing the towel round Seb and brushing his hair.

‘Bababababa,’ Jeffrey joined in.

Lisa laughed at her little singing baby. ‘Geraldine will be with you in a minute, Seb.’ She brushed his teeth, then took the trouble to pull up the stool and sit him on her lap and sing a little song to him while watching the triplets splashing in the bath.

Pyjamas on, Seb ran into the guestroom now turned into the night nursery. Lisa could hear him tumbling on the double bed as he waited for her to bring Jeffrey in for him to sing to.

‘Gerry,’ she called.

There was no answer.

‘Gerree!’

She should have known Geraldine would be chatting up a good-looking young man like Matthew. She knew perfectly well the girl was man-crazy. However much Alec had denied it, hadn’t she seen her fluttering her eyelids at him, wiggling her hips?

Lisa brushed the thought aside. It was time to get the triplets out of the water. She couldn’t wait for ever, and they’d be getting cold. It really shouldn’t be impossible. Jeffrey first, towel him down and get him ready for bed. Then take him quickly through to the triplets’ room to be with Seb.

‘Come on now, Jeffers.’

The little boy laughed at her and clapped his hands. She couldn’t resist clapping with him, encouraging him. He was just as delightful as her Seb, she thought sunnily. Jeffrey was the one who liked to sing, Janus the one who used his strength. And little Jiminy always had a smile, and waited patiently while his stronger brothers clamoured for attention. So alike, and yet so different. Lisa rumpled Jeffrey dry on her lap, then slipped his nappy and red pyjamas on. Bouncing him up and down in time to his singing, she carted him off to his cot.

‘Can we play on the bed?’

‘No, Seb; it’s already late. Jeffers will need to calm down now. Bring him a rattle if he starts to cry.’

Her ear, attuned to noises in a room she wasn’t in, had heard odd sounds. There was an ominous sort of gurgling as she left the bedroom and started back along the hall. She began to sprint, suddenly aware that even a moment’s inattention could result in a drowning. Fear gripped her. She’d forgotten to let the bath-water out.

‘Geraldine!’ she shouted on her way. As she approached the bathtub she could see Janus - he was so much bulkier than the other two, no one could possibly mistake him now - leaning on top of James. The child was romping, over-excited by the party. He’d no idea how strong he was, how heavy, compared to his delicate brother.

As soon as Janus was aware of Lisa he turned around and looked up at her, big blue eyes wide, rubbing his wrist. He began to cry, but Lisa, worried about James, ignored him.

James surfaced upright as Janus leaned back and Lisa snatched him out of the water and on to her lap. She didn’t even stop to drain him, nor to take time to grab his towel. Holding him upside down, she saw some water coming out of his mouth, just a few drops. He appeared to be breathing normally, apparently none the worse for his tumble under water. Lisa glanced briefly at Janus, still rubbing his wrist. The silver bracelet was, she saw, cutting deeply into him.

That’s what it must have been. The poor little mite was in pain. The bracelet was too tight on him, she could see the flesh oozing round it. He’d hauled himself up because the bracelet hurt, and so pushed Jiminy under the water. The little silver fetters were beginning to bind. Lisa decided the time had come to take Janus’s bracelet off, otherwise it might actually stop the child’s circulation.

Leaning over, her lips brushing the top of Jiminy’s head as her arms embraced him protectively in his warmed towel, Lisa leaned down and unlatched the bracelet on Janus’s wrist. The deep red weal where it had been made her feel guilty that she’d left it for so long. It wasn’t really needed any more. She wondered how Meg had the heart to insist on Phyllis’s brace when it was clearly hurting the child. Worried what Frank would say. It had crossed Lisa’s mind before that Meg was oddly nervous of going against Frank’s wishes.

Janus smiled radiantly at her and splashed the water again, enjoying the expanse of bath all to himself. Lisa pulled out the plug and heard the gurgle of draining water.

She returned to James now wriggling on her lap. Nothing, apparently, was wrong with him. He gulped a little more water out, sneezed once or twice, then seemed to settle down. She readied him as quickly as she could. Dare she risk leaving Janus on his own? Surely he couldn’t come to harm now she’d almost drained the water.

‘Geraldine!’ she hollered again. Only the draft of the open front door and the sound of Duffers running in and out. There was no way she could get hold of the girl. ‘Seb,’ she called. ‘Come and take Jiminy for me, will you?’

He was still singing at the top of his voice.

‘Seb!’ she shouted, louder now. But James began to cry, and Janus to splash the water swirling away into the drainage hole, threatening to wet Jiminy’s pyjamas. She stood quickly with James in her arms and rushed him to the bedroom. ‘Play with him, Seb,’ she said, laying him on the double bed. ‘You can have a game with him while I dry Jansy.’

The one-year-old twined his arms around her neck, blew bubbles at her. Unwillingly she freed herself from him, tickled his chest, prattled to him and turned away. As she walked rapidly back along the corridor she heard loud slaps in the bathroom, shrill shrieks. Janus was an unusually rowdy baby.

She reached the door, exhausted, took a deep breath and leant against it. As she stood she could just make out the back of Janus’s head. Surely he’d been further down the bath? He really needed to be watched.

She froze. As she looked further along the bath she could see another child, his back towards her, turning to face her. Two babies in the bath, splashing the remnants of the water.

‘Jiminy!’ she cried out. The sound came out like a choke, strangled at birth. ‘How could you possibly get back in here?’ she whispered to herself as she leant back against the door. The scene in the nursery last year came back again full force.

The tots just burbled at her, clapping their hands, squeaking delight. Lisa gaped at the two children, then hurled away towards the triplets’ room. The suppressed memory was beginning to take hold and bring waves of panic.

‘Baa baa black sheep, Have you any – ’

‘Seb!’

He turned from the bed he was sitting on with James, in blue pyjamas, lying by his side. He was hugging his brother with his teddy.

‘Where’s Jeffrey?’

Seb glanced at her and started singing again. Lisa turned unwillingly towards the three cots lined up at the far end of the large room. Two empty. The third had a one-year-old, standing, clutching the bars, his red pyjamas intact.

She whirled around to look at Seb and his other brother. They were still on the double bed, James’s head on a large pillow, his blue pyjamas covering him.

Gulping for breath, Lisa dashed back to the bathroom. She could hear the splattering as she ran, and a peculiar sort of rattle - an odd, unusual noise - between the grunts of babyish effort.

She forced herself to look towards the bath and shuddered, noting that the child turning to look and smile at her was similar to the Janus of earlier on, like him but slightly different. As her eye went down his body along the bottom of the bath she gagged. The second baby was leaning forward, his back rounded, his face down. He seemed to be slumped there, inert.

Her heart thumped crazily as she swooped towards him and pulled his shoulders back. The eyes stared at her, just as blue as her triplets’ eyes - but lifeless. Horrified, she dropped the body back. The other child - Janus? Was he Janus? - had begun to cry, his arms stretched out towards her.

Lisa wilted on to the stool and laid her head against the bath edge. Was she overdone? Her imagination raised to fever point? Alec was right, she’d have to get more help. He’d warned her she was overdoing things … She must be hallucinating.

The crying baby in the bath grasped at the handgrip and hauled himself up to standing. Lisa could see that an oddly yellow liquid was clinging to him. One of the plastic ducks, its head partially blocking the outlet, must have been the reason for some water remaining in the tub. But why was it this odd yellow colour?

‘Jansy?’

The child was crying, catching hold of her, grasping at her clothing, hoisting himself up to her. And then she understood that he’d changed. He’d become smaller - thinner! That’s exactly what she remembered from last year.

A tiny hand grasped a finger, curled his own fingers around hers. She looked at his left wrist. There was no bracelet on it, and what had been puffed flesh around a deep red line just a few moments before was now quite smooth, with no sign of a ridge. The little head, its wet curls twining into ringlets, turned innocent blue eyes towards her.

‘Mumumum,’ he babbled, his hands imploring her to mother him, his lips curved upward.

His skin, Lisa noted as though she were an onlooker, detached, watching from afar, was beginning to crinkle. Presumably the effects of the long time he’d spent in the water.

‘Mumumum,’ his lips pleaded with her, small hands held out to her. Maternal instinct stirred within her. He was her child, her baby. He needed her. Whatever had happened, he was her flesh and blood, a part of her. Avoiding the inert body in the bath, Lisa lifted the baby blabbering at her and wrapped him in his towel.

She turned to see a small hand, limp and flaccid, peeping from below the body in the bath. So poignant, so like her other children. Her heart leaped up, choking her windpipe.

One hand hovered towards the shape, then recoiled. Panting with fear Lisa put forefinger and thumb down and felt a little leg. Moist skin. She let go and retched, then knew she had to overcome her horror, to act responsibly to preserve her family. She had to know.

She held Janus against herself, stood up, and stared, disbelieving, at the contents of the bath again. A one-year-old baby, hunched face down in the tub. Gold curls were massed, matted, on the back of his head, looking exactly like her triplets.

Keeping her eyes on Janus, Lisa tipped the little torso back, leaving the body lying face upturned. She began to focus on him from the legs upwards: a boy, exactly the size and development of Janus, though thinner. Janus was thinner now, she remembered with a shudder. Large blue eyes open, vacant: Janus, her mind signalled again, then turned to the living image on her shoulder, gurgling at her. The eyes in the bath were not remotely like the gleaming piercing penetratingly intelligent eyes of her first triplet. There was no spark at all.

It couldn’t be true. Her mind simply refused to accept the evidence of her eyes. Was it a waxen effigy? Had the conjurer played a fiendish trick on her? Almost laughing now she bent again to touch the body and found it all too fleshy. It was a real body. The unmoving body of a baby boy who looked exactly like one of her triplets. Except that he was dead; quite dead.

An inkling of her own, her children’s, mortality coursed through Lisa, caught at her throat, her limbs. She could not cope with this, could not breathe. She’d have to leave this room, this witness to the terrible events which made the future of her family look bleak and hollow. Head spinning, a pain across the eyes scratching at her, she heaved for air, unable to breathe normally. Without a backward glance she carried Janus to the nursery, instinctively pulling the bathroom door shut behind her.

Depositing him on the double bed she snatched up James and placed him in the cot lined up beside his brother Jeffrey. Two infants in two cots. The third one - he looked like Janus - on the bed; Seb singing.

Rubbing the third baby with the towel, shaking powder frenziedly around, she counted time and again. Two babies in the cots, one on the bed. Three infants: her triplets.

She was exhausted, must have seen double in the bathroom. Smiling now, scolding herself for being foolish, she cuddled the child in his towel, cooing to him, feeling him wriggle against her restraining arms, nestling him to her.

‘What’s the funny smell, Mummy?’

Seb was right. There was a curious odour as well as the odd yellow colour on the towel. Had she been prescient, choosing yellow to distinguish Janus from his brothers? She pulled out a pair of his yellow pyjamas, prepared to put his nappy on.

‘Got to go wee wees.’

‘No, Seb.’

‘Got to,’ he said and started toddling towards the bathroom.

She flung Janus back on to the bed and ran after her eldest son.

‘In Mummy’s bathroom, Seb!’ she shouted out. ‘There’s water all over the other one.’

He held his hand in front of him, staring at her. She grasped him roughly, quickly, and pushed him the long walk down the corridor. Then she saw Geraldine.

The girl - what if the girl saw what was in the bath?

‘About time, Geraldine,’ she seethed at her, then couldn’t stop herself from shrieking. ‘You’re supposed to be helping me. Take Seb to wee in my bathroom. The children’s is completely flooded.’

Geraldine, smiling good humour, took Seb’s hand. ‘All right, Lisa. I’ll see to him.’ Her normally shrewd inquisitive eyes strayed towards the front door. Her thoughts were still with Matthew.

‘Go on, Seb,’ Lisa hissed at him. ‘Do as you’re told.’

Almost hysterical, clenching her nails into her palms, she sprinted back to the bedroom. Janus was sitting in the middle of the double bed, solemnly tearing Seb’s nursery-rhyme book into shreds.

Still two infants in the cots, one on the bed. She counted them off on her fingers, then breathed relief. Her triplets were safe.

Fastening a nappy on Janus, she tucked him under her arm and backed into the children’s bathroom. She had to take Janus with her. He was different, thinner. Geraldine mustn’t see him. What’s more, he didn’t have his bracelet on. What if it happened again? As long as she held on to him he couldn’t - clone, she thought wildly. As long as she held on to him they were safe.

‘I’m finished,’ she could hear Seb saying to Geraldine, could hear them coming back down the corridor.

Lisa inched further into the bathroom, then forced her eyes to look into the bath. The body was still there. Lisa squeezed Janus tight, but couldn’t control her retch.

‘Mummy. Where are you, Mummy?’

Janus began to kick and then to bawl.

‘Shut up,’ she screamed at him, then remembered that Seb was looking for her, no doubt about to burst into the bathroom, and that Geraldine was with him. She kicked the door shut and locked it. The large key clattered out and on to the floor.

‘Take Seb to his room, Geraldine,’ she shouted through the door. ‘I’ll come and see him in a minute.’

The girl twisted the doorknob. ‘Anything wrong? D’you need some help? Why’s Jansy making all that racket?’

‘I told you it’s sopping wet in here,’ Lisa shouted at her. ‘Just get Seb off to his room.’

‘I would stay, Lisa, but…’ Presumably Matthew was waiting for her. A stroke of unexpected luck.

‘Just get Seb to bed, Gerry.’ Lisa had lowered her voice, energy draining out of her. ‘Then you can go; I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘I’m having lunch with Uncle Nige, Lisa. I did remind you. Betsy’s coming. I made sure she remembered.’ The girl rattled the knob again. ‘What’s wrong, Lisa? The door won’t open.’

‘For goodness sake! I sometimes need to go to the loo as well.’

‘Oh.’ An audible intake of breath, even through the door. ‘Sorry.’

Holding Janus to herself to quiet him Lisa heard Geraldine and Seb trotting down the corridor. Where had she put the damned bracelet?

Lisa forced herself to look at the bath ledges. She searched over every nook and cranny for the silver band but couldn’t see it. Her eyes now roamed round the other surfaces: the basin, the window sill, the cupboard holding nappies, the laundry basket. The bracelet was nowhere to be seen.

There was another knocking on the door. Lisa, her mind fixed on the bracelet, gripped the child in her arms hard enough to precipitate a wail. She relaxed her grip and absently kissed his head.

‘Anything else I can do?’ Geraldine asked. ‘Shall I take Jansy for you?’

The girl had evidently spotted something was up, Lisa was aware. But there was nothing she could do about that, no way she could open the door to her. Geraldine might know something was wrong but she couldn’t possibly know what it was. And she was probably thinking longingly about Matthew. With any luck he was waiting for her.

‘Are you okay? Jansy sounds rather miserable.’

‘He’s just grisly.’ A deep breath in, a last determined effort to keep control. ‘He must have had too much of the clotted cream and feels sick. Look in on the other two and see if they’re all right,’ she called out. ‘I’m almost through here.’

Within moments the doorknob rattled again. Lisa bit back the urge to scream at the girl to go.

‘Is it all right if I go now?’

‘Is Seb in bed?’

‘He’s reading his helicopter book.’

‘Right, then. Off you go.’

‘Good-night, Lisa. You too, Jansy.’

It was at this point that Lisa remembered what had happened to the bracelet. In her haste to take it off she’d simply dropped it in the bath. It must be with the body.

Janus was wriggling under her arm. What time was it? Was Alec due back? Sick, shocked, distraught, she turned, knocking the baby’s head against the bath. A shrill long scream brought her back to reality. Had Geraldine heard that? There was no further clatter at the door. She must have left.

Holding her breath, averting her eyes, the kicking infant still under her left arm, Lisa placed her right hand into the bath and tried to feel for the bracelet. The slimy bath, its bottom covered in a glutinous mixture of soap, dirt and that odd yellow liquid, revolted her. Unable to hold Janus she laid him on the floor. He began to cry pitifully. Not the raucous bawl of a few moments before, but the small pathetic cry of a tired infant.

Desperate now, Lisa knelt beside him and pulled the plastic duck away from the plug hole. She hugged Janus, trying to quiet him. His drawn-out tired mewl inspired her to lever on to the stool, to pick him up, to rock him. He’s only an infant, she told herself. He couldn’t possibly be held responsible for anything that had happened.

The final slosh of liquid running out of the bath energised Lisa into one last attempt to find the bracelet. The body of the dead infant lay, oddly thin and limp, its feet towards the drain. Retching, she’d no choice but to return Janus to the floor. Forcing herself to action she moved the body’s legs away and at last saw the bracelet on the bottom of the bath. JANUS, the letters winked at her.

She clutched it, allowed the legs to plop back and turned to the living child. His eyes gleamed wet as he tried to writhe away from her searching arms. He was afraid of her. Her shouting, presumably, and the way his head had bumped against the bath, the unceremonious manner in which she’d dumped him on the floor.

She clasped him to her, tears of relief at his safety pouring down her face. She could not bear to look at the other child, the baby she’d only briefly known. Tears for his short sad life welled into her eyes. She couldn’t stop.

A loud rat-tat-tatting at the back door made her freeze. Frank back with the car already? She wasn’t expecting him till much later on. He mustn’t see her like this, must not come in. She wouldn’t respond, just pray he’d simply leave the keys downstairs for her.

A short interval of silence as she tried to stop the flow of endless tears, then the sound of the old door being opened lurched her heartbeat into a faster pace.

‘Missus! Us broughten t’car backalong,’ a voice Lisa recognised as Don Chivers’ called up the stairs.

Lisa sat rigid, cringing against the bath, pretending she wasn’t there. Another series of loud knocks as the stockman tried to make himself heard.

‘Us’ll leave t’keys,’ Lisa heard him shout.

Terror made her clamp Janus harder to herself. The child began to cry, then howl. She tried to hush him, tried desperately to find a dummy, a bottle, to fill his mouth, pressed a toy duck into his hand. He wouldn’t stop. The noise would almost certainly bring Don Chivers running up the stairs and into the bathroom. She had to get out of here.

Kissing Janus, Lisa forced herself up and out on to the landing, rocking the child now merely wailing on her arm. She looked down to see Don standing by the kitchen door, his horny muscled hand holding her car keys.

Light crinkly eyes swept up, spotted her and Janus, stopped still. He was about to put the keys down and retreat when Janus began to screech, to toss on Lisa’s arm and try to haul himself away. Instinctively she put her hand up to the child, the bracelet dangling from two fingers, glinting in the hall light. She knew at once that Don had seen it. His eyes stayed mesmerised on her hand. She had to distract him, to reassure him that Janus was as he’d always been, that nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

‘He’s overdone after the party,’ she shouted down. Her voice sounded husky, unreal.

‘Oh, arr.’ His eyes now moved, flitting from her hand to Janus.

Janus had stopped shrieking, was quieting down. ‘Bit better now,’ she pointed out as she gathered the tired child tighter into her arms and rocked him.

Don didn’t leave, but stood, his grey eyes firm, unblinking, now rivetted on the silver. Lisa slipped the bracelet out of sight under Janus’s nappy. ‘Thank you so much for bringing the car back so quickly,’ she squeaked, breathless but determined. ‘I told Meg there was no rush.’ She brushed her arm across her face, pushed her hair back, acutely aware that she looked strange, out of control. ‘If you could leave the car keys on the stairs?’

The man went on standing there, unmoving, staring at her tear-stained face. At last he put the keys on the first tread, then looked up at her again. ‘Them baint stout arter they fust’uns,’ he finally brought out. He went on standing there, irresolute.

Using every ounce of will power she could muster, Lisa stood firm. ‘I won’t come down,’ she said jerkily, tasting blood as she bit her lip to keep herself from screaming. ‘Jansy is very tired. I have to get him straight to bed.’

‘Baint long afore ’un goes,’ the voice continued, low.

‘Thanks again,’ Lisa shrilled at him and began to edge away.

‘Oft times them be dead right soon. Not’ing as be done but bury they critturs,’ he shouted after her. ‘Tha’ be t’right t’ing as us ’ud do.’

Almost hysterical, Lisa ran back into the nursery and slammed the door. She couldn’t stand the man; he was a ghoul, a harbinger of doom. She sat on the bed, clasped Janus between her knees, grabbed his left wrist. ‘You’re wearing this,’ she wept at him. She slipped the bracelet on and clasped it shut. Utterly drained, all she could do was dress the shrieking baby in his pyjamas, then place him in his cot. She tottered to the double bed and lay down on it, intent on making sure there was time for Don to leave before she went downstairs.





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