CLONER : a Sci-Fi Novel about Human Cloning (A Captivating Story about Reproduction Outside the Womb and Identical Humans) (17 page)

‘Many of them do. Prevents even outstanding wine from reaching its full potential.’ Carruthers looked grave. ‘Basically, wine making depends on yeast fermenting the sugar in grape-juice. Add something foreign to unadulterated grape, and you stop the whole process dead.’

Yeast feeding greedily on sugar, swelling up, flowing over... Lisa felt hemmed in again, waves of warm moist yeast ballooning, oozing around her, blurring familiar contours, overwhelming, out of control.

Carruthers waved the bottle over Alec’s proffered glass. ‘I get them to keep a dozen crates for us; can’t persuade them to let me have more. Our quota,’ he laughed, and turned to Lisa. ‘We’re going to have to set
you
quotas, too,’ he told her, not altogether jocularly.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Alec put in quickly. ‘We already have.’

Wilford Gudgeon, red jowls flapping as he crammed even more food into his mouth, nodded approvingly as he moved heavily towards the wine. ‘Might end up with quads next time,’ he said, unsmiling eyes and mouth opening wide as he twisted the bottle to read the label.

‘You really must bring the little sweeties over for tea,’ Diana chirruped at Lisa. ‘Fenella and I’d
love
to see them.’

‘So? Any problems?’ Alec asked Lisa quickly as soon as he found the opportunity.

‘Everything’s fine as far as I can gather,’ she admitted. ‘The woman’s a disaster on the phone, but she seems to be a marvellous baby-sitter.’

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.