Chapter 25
Alec had insisted that his mother come to stay for a week. This time Lisa couldn’t find an excuse. She left her mother-in-law in charge while she tried to explain why Janus could not go back to Anne’s school.
‘You want to take them out of playschool?’ Lisa could see Alec staring at her, his mouth dropped open. ‘I thought the whole point was that their going gave you time to yourself.’ He paused for a few seconds. ‘Did Anne say she wouldn’t get rid of Duffers?’
Lisa was feeling desperate. She had to keep Janus at home, but she wouldn’t be able to explain why to Alec - that would just confirm his conviction that she was unstable. The way he was looking at her, his general attitude, convinced Lisa that he was wondering how to persuade her to see a psychiatrist. She had to be careful, to try to sound both reasonable and yet convince Alec that her concern was genuine.
‘She didn’t say one way or the other. She told Geraldine to lock him up, and that she’d deal with it later.’
‘So? Presumably she has.’ His eyes flashed impatience.
‘They’re too much for her.’
‘They? What on earth d’you mean by “they”?’ Impatience was turning to irritation.
‘The boys.’
‘Jansy teased Duffers. Animals taken to playschools have to be prepared to put up with that. What have the others done?’
‘People lump them together.’
‘We hardly need to encourage that,’ Alec said dryly. ‘Anyway, don’t be so absurd. The woman’s looking after twenty children under five. The fact that four of them are ours is neither here nor there. She can either cope with her job, or she can’t.’
Lisa looked directly at Alec, her face the bland mask she’d cultivated now for almost two years - ever since the ‘birth’ of James. ‘Even if she can, I can’t cope with the strain. Janus is getting aggressive again, belligerent. As soon as he spotted Duffers he enticed the dog to him, tricked him into grabbing at his arm. Then he thumped him, deliberately pushed the metal toy into the dog’s eye. Geraldine knows that, and she’ll tell Anne.’
‘You’re being utterly ridiculous, Lisa. There was a small accident. Unfortunate, but simply an accident. Jansy came to very little harm, and Duffers wasn’t seriously hurt. Just bad luck that his paw got caught.’
Lisa tried out a different tack. ‘Jansy could have been badly bitten. That’s a bull terrier, you know. Those dogs can be quite fierce. Extraordinary that such a young child is capable of handling him.’ She couldn’t help a smile of pride in her brave son. ‘Jansy’s incredibly strong and daring. Geraldine was quite shaken up.’
Alec was frowning. ‘Duffers will have to go. I quite agree he shouldn’t have been allowed at the school in the first place.’
‘Of course he’ll have to go! That’s not the point. Anne knows what Jansy intended. She’s always made allowances for him, she thinks the world of him, but I don’t think she’s up to handling him. You know exactly what I’m talking about, you’ve seen it all before, Alec. The boy’s getting back into his combative phase. This time he took it out on Duffers. I’m worried about what he’ll get up to next.’
‘He’s a small child, Lisa, pig-headed, stubborn, not a sadist out to get innocent people or animals. You’ve said it often enough yourself, that dog can be quite mean. Perhaps he started it.’
‘Jansy gauged it exactly right. He may be small − ’ She stopped, considering this. ‘Well, relatively small. He’s incredibly strong for his age, and he’s retaining fluid again.’
‘You haven’t put the gold earring back?’
‘I’ve left that one on Jeffers. That isn’t the problem,’ Lisa reminded him. ‘What really matters is the way he can work things out. He’s only twenty months, and he’s way ahead of most people.’
‘You’ll tell me next he’s superman,’ Alec said crossly. ‘Honestly, darling, you’re carrying this too far. It’s got to stop.’ Alec was pacing up and down the room, his face away from hers. ‘I’ve asked you to have a word with Gilmore...’
‘Do me a favour, Alec - Gilmore! What on earth d’you think he can do?’
‘For a start he could give you a mild sedative. What I’d like to see him do is refer you to a psychiatrist.’ He walked towards her, stretching out his arms. ‘You’re in trouble, darling, truly. You need help!’
She backed away from him. How was she to handle this? He was reacting to her again, rather than to the situation with Janus. ‘Oh, Alec. You think it’s all me, but it isn’t, you know.’ Her distress was evident in her trembling voice. She took a deep breath, determined to sound sensible. ‘Just think why we decided to get in touch with Morgenstein in the first place. Then remember what happened about the dog. Janus did trap Duffers’ paw in the wheels, you know. And what about the way he managed to sabotage Anne’s eggs?’
Janus had stolen into the kitchen and pulled the weekly supply of eggs to the floor. Not satisfied with that, he’d stamped on them, trampled them into smithereens.
Alec tried to approach her, to put his arms around her, to try and hold her to him, she supposed. She had to get her point across, not be side-tracked away from it. She moved away towards the window and started pulling the curtains shut.
‘He didn’t sabotage them, Lisa. All he did was pull the trays down from the kitchen table.’
‘Intentionally. He knows the kitchen’s out of bounds.’
‘It isn’t going to be dark for a couple of hours. Why are we closing out the light?’
Did he have to analyse everything she did? ‘I’m just getting the curtains to hang straight.’ She shook the heavy material impatiently.
A cloud of dust brought on a fit of sneezing for Alec. He blew his nose. ‘The business with the eggs was something that could easily have happened with any of the children. I’d say it was more Anne’s fault than Jansy’s. She has no right to let them be unsupervised anywhere, let alone get into the kitchen on their own.’
‘That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you, Alec. She isn’t up to looking after Janus.’ Sweet reason wasn’t going to work; she might as well sound as obsessive as he thought she was. ‘I’m keeping him at home,’ she announced, abrupt and with finality. She swished the curtains apart and crashed open the sash window. ‘The others can continue to go to school. I’ll look after Jansy myself. Then I’ll know there won’t be any more problems.’
He looked hard at her, shrugged. ‘But there is one thing you might be right about,’ she heard Alec say.
‘You think I might be right about something?’
‘Do stop being so hostile, Lisa. I’m only trying to do my bit. I wish you wouldn’t exclude me so.’ He smiled at her, tentatively putting out his hands again. She stood rigid by the window. ‘What I mean is, Janus is puffing up again, rather quickly at that. Perhaps he’s allergic to the platinum as well. I told you we ought to leave him without an earring.’
‘My fault again!’
‘I didn’t mean it that way. What I suggest is that I take him to Morgenstein this time. If he’s allergic to both metals, it’s more than just a simple allergy.’ He paused, looking at her, evidently uncertain. ‘There could be another problem, Lisa.’
‘Such as?’
‘The child could be autistic.’
Lisa laughed at that. ‘My goodness, Alec. Autism shows itself by lack of verbal communication, an inability to relate to other people. Janus is pretty good at expressing himself! And he’s pretty popular with the other kids.’ As though she hadn’t considered such matters, as though, in a sense, she wouldn’t welcome a known disorder. ‘Anyway, the great man’s already spoken, and the tests were negative. There’s nothing wrong with Janus. Physically or mentally, it’s all my fertile imagination.’ By now her voice was even, low. She turned and laughed again, an unsteady laugh. ‘We have it on the highest medical authority.’
‘Do be fair, pet. You said yourself, the bloating had gone down by the time you got to the paediatrician. The boy’s coming up to it again. I’ll make an appointment. He won’t evade the issue with me.’
There was nothing further to say as far as Lisa was concerned. She felt fairly confident that the doctor would insist on the usual three weeks before an appointment. Alec could hardly plead an emergency. And meanwhile she’d work something out to safeguard the child. All her instincts told her he was in danger. Real physical danger.
Alec cleared his throat. He seemed apprehensive. ‘You might just bear in mind that Morgenstein did suggest it was an allergy. He didn’t dismiss the whole thing out of hand.’ He smiled, then started sneezing again. ‘We’d better take the earring off Janus,’ he finally brought out. ‘After all, there’s no mistaking which one he is.’
‘No!’ It was out before she could stop herself. What could she possibly use as an excuse? But if the child were able to strip himself…
‘You’re reacting completely over the top,’ Alec said slowly, almost gently. ‘You must see that. What possible difference can it make?’
An ear-piercing scream managed to infiltrate through the thick walls, followed by a chorus of lesser sounds. Lisa sprinted for the door, only to be restrained by Alec.
‘Mother is with them, Lisa. She’ll manage.’
Putting his arm around her shoulders, he steered Lisa through to the conservatory and out, over to the children playing in the sandpit.
‘Hello, Mummy. Jansy’s been naughty,’ Seb said as soon as he saw them. ‘Granny said he had to play by himself.’
Alec looked at Lisa triumphantly and walked over to Janus. The child was standing just outside the sandpit, rhythmically smashing his toy aeroplane against the terrace stone.
‘No, Jansy,’ Alec said, removing the toy. Carefully, deliberately he undid the clasp of the platinum earring and slipped it out of the child’s ear.
Lisa stared at the ring, now disappearing into Alec’s wallet. What could she do? She’d have to check on him constantly. The child, she realised dimly, her mind racing her instincts, was unlikely to undress himself during the day. At night she’d go into the nursery and clamp something on to him. She’d have to think the problem through at leisure, when Alec was out of the way.
‘And Mother’s very keen to give you a day to yourself, you know. I wish you’d take up her offer.’
Sarah Wildmore was staying for several days. She looked up from the sandcastle she was perfecting. ‘Why not have tomorrow off, Lisa? Really, I’ll be happy to take the boys on. And Betsy won’t mind helping me, I know.’
‘You’re not used to it, Sarah. It will wear you out.’
Sarah laughed good-naturedly. ‘You think I’m too old. Well, even at the advanced age of fifty plus I ought to be able to cope for a day!’
Lisa gave in to her mother-in-law, relieved that Betsy was prepared to help out on a weekday morning. She’d drive to Bath, look in on the Touchstone Gallery. They were really doing well with her watercolours.
In any case, there was one thing she could rely on: Sarah wouldn’t allow Janus to take his clothes off. Besides, he wasn’t critically swollen yet. Lisa felt pretty confident that Janus wasn’t yet ready to clone again.
Queen Square car park was only a few minutes walk from the Touchstone Gallery. Lisa’s heels clicked briskly as she accelerated through crowds of ambling tourists. Bath was overflowing with visitors. Trevor was absolutely right to place her pictures here.
‘Do you need any help?’ a young woman asked her as soon as she’d opened vast Georgian doors and walked through.
‘Just looking,’ Lisa said, smiling.
She tried to see Heron among the Willows as though she’d never come across it before. Windswept willows lining a river, two herons standing on its bank, a third scooping fish, Glastonbury Tor outlined behind them - pastel colours, a gentle English light. It was all make-believe. Time to make a change, time to show the truth behind the pretty façade.
She saw the willows change shape. Thrusting green shoots turned into gnarled broken branches weeping towards a sodden murky whirl of overflowing banks. Leaden skies stretched into drab fields turned into pools reflecting grey. Earth colours instead of pastel, almost monochrome. Blasts of ashen air across the moor. Cattle hump-backed against the wind, resigned to mud.
‘That’s a Wildmore,’ the girl said, coming up behind her. ‘She’s one of our most successful artists. Lives locally, you know. Down near Wells. She specialises in scenes of the Somerset Levels.’
‘I see,’ Lisa said dutifully.
‘They’re still very modestly priced,’ the girl went on. ‘That won’t last long now. They’re simply walking off the walls, so the values are bound to rise. This one’s available for £1200. A bargain.’
Lisa’s face reddened. ‘I’m sorry,’ she turned to the assistant. ‘I should have introduced myself...’
‘Lisa!’
The door leading to the back of the gallery had opened. At first Lisa could not work out who’d greeted her. A silhouette of a man, quite young, bejewelled, elegantly dressed, preceded a shorter figure.
‘Darling! Why didn’t you let me know?’ Trevor stepped forward, rushing his arms at her, planting a kiss on one cheek, then the other.
‘Trev! I’d no idea you were going to be in Bath.’ She grinned, delighted. ‘I’m on parole. My mother-in-law is coping; or at least I hope she is. Last minute decision; couldn’t resist popping in.’
‘Marvellous, darling. Now let me introduce you to one of your most ardent fans. This is Leo - Leo Blanchet. You’ve spoken on the telephone.’
‘What fun!’ Leo greeted her, wine-coloured velvet blazer toning an iridescent tie. ‘So this is my best selling artist.’ Melting black eyes examined Lisa openly under raised brows. ‘Pretty as a picture.’
Trevor’s laugh neighed around re-echoing walls. ‘Leo’s just taken over the Touchstone. His little place in Albemarle Street is overflowing, so he’s branching out.’
‘Fancied the West Country,’ Leo tossed in. ‘Bath is perfection. Good for the Festival, as well. Are you a devotee?’
‘Only in theory at the moment,’ Lisa explained. ‘I’m rather taken up at home.’
Leo’s eyes slid away. ‘Of course.’
‘You’ll join us for lunch?’ Trevor said eagerly. ‘I’m sure you’ll know the best place for us to go.’
Lisa could see the velvet ripple as irritation stiffened Leo’s shoulders. ‘That’s sweet of you, Trev. Actually, I was thinking of…’
‘We really must celebrate. After all, Lis, much of the success is down to you!’ Trevor, standing between them, placed his arms around both sets of shoulders. ‘I know you two have loads in common.’
Leo’s nose lengthened perceptively. ‘Provided you can steer us to a good place for lunch,’ he said, eyes cold. ‘Can’t abide hormone-laden roast with soggy veg. Can Bath provide something wholesome and exotic?’
‘Bath can do better than most,’ Lisa said. The Hole in the Wall is only five minutes walk from here. A choice of vegetarian main courses, fish or game, all organic. I’m sure you’ll approve.’ She looked at Leo carefully. ‘But if you prefer something more theatrical, you could try Popjoys.’
‘Done that,’ he said. ‘Not bad; teensy bit trad.’
‘Then try the Hole,’ Lisa said, stalking out of the gallery. ‘I’ll point you in the right direction.’
‘Hold on,’ Leo ran after her. ‘Sounds really good!’ He twirled himself in front of her, bowing low. ‘Do come, we’ll make a real party of it.’ The black coals blazed over her, dancing approval.
Lisa led the way across Queen Square, tripping up Gay street towards the Circle. She was struck again by the brilliance of honey-coloured stone curved to reflect the light. One day she must catch that. ‘Across to George Street,’ she told them, pointing right, jay walking the busy road and sprinting on. ‘Up these steps, the entrance on your left.’
Sinking into the lounge easy chairs, Lisa agreed happily to champagne. ‘We really do have something to celebrate,’ Trevor said. ‘Leo signed the papers this morning.’
‘So, tell me about yourself.’ Leo’s fingers flashed several rings. A large opal caught Lisa’s eye. ‘Like it? Belonged to my aged pa. Died recently.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No need. Altzheimer’s took him some years ago. Blessed release.’ The dark eyes grew deep. ‘The stone lived up to its name. Opals always shine brighter on the dying. Positively gleamed last time I saw the old roué.’
‘So what’s the news from pastures green?’ Trevor was already reading the menu. ‘I see they’re quite inventive on vegetarian, Leo.’
‘Too green, perhaps,’ Lisa said. ‘Thought I’d pop into the Reference Library before I head back.’
‘Planning on using new pigments?’
Lisa smiled. ‘I do feel stale. Thought I’d try earth colours. More of a sombre mood.’ She turned her shoulders briskly towards Leo. ‘Hope it won’t ruin sales, but I mustn’t get into a rut.’ She twisted back to Trevor. ‘I wasn’t actually thinking about pigments when I said green.’ She twiddled the stem of her glass, fizzing the bubbles. ‘They’re overdoing the fertiliser bit, in my opinion. The grass looks - unnatural, somehow. Too much cerulean blue.’ She looked for a response, but Trevor had lifted the menu and blotted her out.
Leo’s black eyes leaped into brilliance. ‘You’ve decided to check up on them?’
‘Exactly. Our neighbours’ farm is the testing site for a new organic product – ’
‘Trev was telling me, said you weren’t mad keen.’
‘There’s just too much of everything. “Baint natural” is the local expression.’
‘The venison looks good, or there’s saddle of hare,’ Trevor interrupted loudly.
‘Too much?’ Leo folded his menu and beckoned to the waiter. ‘Like your triplets, you mean?’ He said it softly, almost purring it.
Lisa froze. ‘I was thinking of the farm animals.’ Her feet, crossed casually at the ankles, flexed into pointed toes. Had Trevor mentioned anything specific to Leo? He was avoiding eye contact.
‘The grass is as green as a peacock’s preen?’ Leo suggested, not smiling.
‘Precisely,’ Lisa agreed. ‘Emerald green. It’s even crept into my paintings. The untreated moors are actually a somewhat drab colour, more khaki mixed with gull grey.’
The waiter was hovering beside them. ‘So, are we ready to order?’ Trevor swished his menu shut. ‘What’s for you, Lisa?’
‘That’s what’s really bugging me,’ Lisa told them. She took several gulps of her champagne. ‘I think the fertiliser doesn’t just increase the desirable. The kittens, for instance – ’
‘How about starting with the Brandade of Smoked Mackerel?’ Trevor interrupted, then turned to the waiter. ‘That good?’
‘Speciality of the house, sir. We still use Mr Perry-Smith’s original recipes.’
‘Very nice, thank you.’ Lisa turned back to Leo. ‘The litters are much bigger. And I know cats start out blind, and that’s perfectly normal. But we rescued one from a rather large litter a neighbour was going to drown, and it had a lot of trouble with its eyesight right from the start. It keeps getting worse. The poor thing’s virtually blind now.’
‘Leo?’
‘The Brandade will be fine. And you think the fertiliser contributed to that, somehow?’
‘Followed by Venison Moussaka?’
‘Sounds delicious, Trev. You order,’ Leo said, turning back to Lisa. ‘How, in particular?’
‘It seems to aggravate defects. That’s my theory, anyway. The mother cat was swimming in local milk.’
‘Not Silent Spring, more of an Overabundant Autumn?’
‘So you’ve read Rachel Carson. You’ll know exactly what I’m talking about then. It’s possible that overdoing the fertiliser could have worse consequences than the poisoning nightmare she described.’
‘The sedge is withered from the lake, and no birds sing.’
‘You are quoting Keats?’ Trevor sounded almost animated as he turned to Leo. ‘I thought you said you only read modern poetry?’
‘It’s as though he wrote it for us.’ Leo turned back to Lisa. ‘You think that excess could overburden the ecology, making us obese on a planetary scale?’
‘A graphic way of putting it, but yes, I do. Most people assume more is better. It could, in fact, be catastrophic.’
‘Come on, you two, if we could concentrate on the wine?’
‘We trust you implicitly, Trev.’
‘I just wanted to see what the genetic section might have on – ’
‘For goodness sake, you two! You’re being really boring. This is supposed to be a celebration.’
‘Sorry, Trev.’
‘Look behind you, Leo. That’s a fabulous collection of horse-brasses.’
‘What?’ Leo turned round to look behind him, then stood. ‘They are exciting, aren’t they?’
A large collection of amulets, showing their pedigree by traces of constant cleaning, were displayed over the whole surface of the wall.
‘Any good horseflesh in your area, Lisa? Your hunting scenes are much prized, so presumably there’s some good sport.’
‘Actually,’ Lisa said, the noise of clattering hooves coming into her mind, ‘Frank Graftley breeds hunters. Very successful at the local point-to-points.’
‘I really must come down to visit you,’ Leo said, walking back. ‘I’m in the market for a hunter.’
‘Frank has some outstanding breeding stock. But I have to warn you, many of his foals go lame.’
‘No lucky horseshoes?’ Leo raised neat eyebrows. ‘I thought that was the big protection.’
‘Perhaps they nailed them with the ends pointing down, and the luck’s run out,’ Trevor suggested, laughing heartily. ‘Let’s address the positive. This mackerel is outstanding.’
Horseshoes - that’s why Frank, who’d killed off everything else on his farm, could get away with selling, not killing, the foals. They couldn’t clone, of course. They were shod, permanently tagged in their own unique way.
‘Perhaps you’ll invite me down sometime. The country sounds intriguing.’ Leo smiled at Lisa, calling the waiter to order wine. ‘Better make the most of venison while it’s still from the wild.’
Janus needed something like a horseshoe, some sort of equivalent, to stop him cloning. He was an innocent victim, doomed to clone in the way thalidomide victims were doomed to have stunted limbs. Was there an antidote? Could she find something to take away this heavy burden from her child? The earring hadn’t stopped the bloating, or the aggression. What triggered actual cloning, anyway? And would it continue throughout Janus’s life?
‘What about the Fleury ’85?’
‘Sounds perfect,’ Lisa said. ‘Of course you must come down to see us. Next time Trevor drives down, come with him.’
‘Jansy really is a handful,’ Alec’s mother greeted her as soon as she returned. ‘He pushed Jiminy into the mud by the drain. Quite dangerous, Betsy says. A sort of mini quicksand.’ She smiled apologetically. ‘I’m afraid we’re short one blue boot. And while we were dragging Jiminy out a whole lot of cows started towards us, would you believe.’
Lisa smiled, relieved at Sarah’s ignorance. ‘Not cows, Sarah. Bullocks. Steers, as they call them locally. Nothing to worry about there, they’re just curious, or think someone’s come along to give them extra food.’
‘You could have fooled us!’ Sarah flopped on to a sofa, tossed off her shoes and stretched her legs out along the seat. ‘Betsy and I were quite worried.’ She wiggled her toes.
‘Worried? Why? What happened?’
‘The whole lot started to move towards the children – ’
‘I told you! They thought they were bringing them some extra food.’
‘Kind of bearing down on them, snorting and beginning to trot. We’d just pulled Jiminy out, and were quite a few yards away. Betsy left Jiminy to it and began to run towards the animals, trying to head them off, hollering as she went. It would have been funny if I hadn’t been so nervous. I shouted at Jiminy to stay where he was and rushed after her, shrieking as loudly as I could.’
‘You really were worried.’
‘That’s when the most extraordinary part of it happened. Jansy picked up a fallen branch and brandished it at them. It was really quite a big one, I couldn’t believe he could lift it. But he did. Not only that, he bashed one of the animals on the nose. It stopped the brute in its tracks.’ A brittle laugh, a deep breath in. ‘You should have seen it. The front one sort of stopped and stared, then backed. Jansy took another swing at it, while Betsy and I were panting and shouting just behind him, so they all turned tail.’ She finished up out of breath. ‘I could use a stiff drink.’
Lisa poured out a Malvern and malt.
‘Easy on the water.’ Sarah drank deep. ‘So the child isn’t all bad. An excess of energy, I take it. When’s Alec taking him to the specialist?’
‘In a couple of weeks.’
‘The sooner the better, I suppose. Not that I’d want anyone to break his spirit, or anything like that. Sorry, Lis. I put it all down to your being neurotic. The child really is quite - well, let’s say difficult. Betsy made all kinds of excuses for him, but the fact is he pushed Jiminy deliberately. I saw him do it.’
A scheme was beginning to form in Lisa’s mind. ‘I expect he’ll settle down,’ she dismissed the incident. ‘He’s going through a bad patch. Whatever that specialist maintains, there’s something physically wrong and it’s bothering the child. More than an allergy, I mean.’ Lisa was pleased with herself. Her whole body relaxed as she smiled at her mother-in-law.
‘You think you know what the problem is?’
‘I think it may be earache.’
‘Earache? You mean that bit of infection he sometimes gets?’
‘The nurse at the surgery told me they often insert grommets to relieve pressure. It may be that that’s what needs doing.’ A small plastic tube through the eardrum, left in till it fell out after eighteen months or so. That would be brilliant. She’d ask Gilmore to arrange an appointment with an ear nose and throat consultant as soon as possible. There should, she’d worked out, be plenty of time before the next cloning.