CLONER : a Sci-Fi Novel about Human Cloning (A Captivating Story about Reproduction Outside the Womb and Identical Humans) (36 page)

Lisa felt some of the weight she carried lifting from her shoulders. Anne liked Janus, wanted to have him back. And Trevor had agreed with Alec that she was overwrought, that she’d been fantasising. After all, Trevor had pointed out, she was creative. Didn’t she use that wonderful imagery in her work? Wasn’t that the point of it?

And there had been no buried body. That was the fact which even Lisa found difficult to come to terms with. Perhaps Alec was right and she’d dreamed the horrors, the whole thing.

‘Thanks, Anne. Come over later and have dinner. After eight, when the kids are asleep. Have you met Trevor? I think you’d get on well.’

‘I’d love to, my dear.’

When she got back Lisa was surprised to see there was no car in the drive, or in the garage. It was now misting thick across the moors, the light fading fast. Had the men taken the boys out for a cream tea? She checked her answering machine. No messages, no calls to her mobile, no texts.

Something began to make her nervous. Something was happening to her children - she sensed it, felt it in her bones. She paced about the living room and began to fret. The gloom was coming down fast. She decided to drive to the Tor to look for them. She couldn’t miss them on the moor road if they were heading back.

The traffic in Glastonbury was unusually busy. Saturday, Lisa reasoned to herself. She heard the wailing of a siren, felt the usual frisson of apprehension down her spine. A car crash, perhaps; sympathy tightened her throat.

Winding her way up Fisher’s Hill, then along Bere Lane, she turned right into Chilkwell Street. She could already see a small crowd jamming the turning into Well House Lane, and caught a glimpse of revolving blue lights. That’s where the accident must have been! Alec’s car was probably locked in. The simple explanation of why they weren’t home yet.

Driving slowly now, wondering where to park her car, a sense of panic welled up from somewhere deep, crept into consciousness, began to grip her. What if it hadn’t been a car crash; what if one of her children had had an accident? Was that why they hadn’t returned, why they hadn’t phoned?

Simply abandoning her car in the middle of Chilkwell Street, Lisa pushed into Well House Lane and elbowed over to the ambulance. Her heart leapt madly. Trevor was standing by it, his hands clutching Sebastian and Jeffrey. She saw he’d caught sight of her.

‘Lisa!’ she saw him mouth.

She had to get closer. ‘Let me through!’ she shouted, slipping between bodies, forcing herself forward.

‘How did you hear?’ Trevor asked as she reached him.

‘Hear? Hear what?’

‘My dear.’ He took Jeffrey’s hand and put it into Seb’s. ‘Hold on to him Seb. I’ve got to talk to your mummy.’

She saw him step towards her, his dark blue jeans backlit against the headlights. She saw his eyes gleam wet, catching the blue light, the tears rolling down his cheeks, haloing them.

‘My poor darling.’

The black legs moved as though he were a raven; his nose glowed like a beak. His arms rose up, the black anorak taking wing. She moved away, cowered away from him.

‘I am so very sorry. We really took such care, I don’t know how it could have happened. It was so quick – ’

‘What?’ she shrieked. ‘What?
What
’s happened? Where’s Jiminy?’

‘Jiminy slidded down, Mummy!’ Seb was crying at her. ‘Jiminy slidded a long way down and lay quite still!’

‘He’d taken his coat off,’ Trevor was saying, holding her, hugging her. ‘To sit on. We thought he looked tired. And it was slippery, you see. He simply started sliding down.’

‘Where’s Janus?’

‘I’m sorry, my dear. It was Jansy who took the brunt of it when he slipped down.’ He held her tight again. She felt confined, imprisoned, coerced against her will. She wrenched away, pummelled at Trevor, fighting him off. He let her go, talking at her, hands hovering after her, trying to soothe her. ‘He’s a remarkable little boy. He tried to catch his brother and held on to a bush. That broke his fall.’

‘Janus is dead?’

‘No, no, my dear. Janus has had an accident. He’s – ’

‘It’s Jiminy, isn’t it?’ She looked at Trevor, standing silent now, head bowed. ‘Isn’t it?’ she screamed at him. ‘My little Jiminy; he’s gone?’ She pushed his hands away, stood apart from him, moving back into the crowd making way.

‘Jiminy started sliding down on that shiny blue anorak and Jansy was in front of him and sort of broke his fall. Jiminy fell on top of Jansy, who saved himself by grabbing at a thorn branch. He’s broken something, I’m afraid. I think maybe his leg, but I’m sure he’ll be all right. A green fracture.’

‘He pushed Jiminy?’

‘Jiminy crashed into him, Lisa. There was no way Jansy was responsible. And he was such a brave little chap. He – ’

She could no longer think. She let out one long scream of anguish. ‘Jiminy’s dead! My Jiminy!’

It seemed to Lisa that hundreds of eyes began to stare at her, to gleam at her, to point.

‘I’m a doctor, let me through.’

And as she watched, unable to move, a young man came towards her, grasped her arm, held it tight. ‘Is this the mother?’

Alec was coming, too. Tall Alec, slow walk, bowed down, wet tears, glasses slipping down his nose. His arms held a small blue-clad figure lying limp.

‘Lisa,’ she saw his lips move, wet globules weeping down his face.

She screamed at him. ‘Don’t touch me! Get away from me! I told you. I told you and you wouldn’t listen!’

The young doctor took out a syringe and plunged it into her. A sedative, she supposed, as she slipped out of consciousness.

CHAPTER 32

‘Where am I?’

There was no answer to Lisa’s question. She woke up to find herself in a strange room, in even stranger surroundings.

‘What is this place?’ she whispered, noting the high windows, the empty walls. There was no reply. ‘Is there anyone there?’ she shouted.

The quiet came back at her, pressing on her straining ears.

White; it was all white. An intense stillness seemed to lie over everything, air muffled, light dim. She lay quiet, the sound of her breathing filling the room, a rushing in her head. It seemed to Lisa that the world was so silent she could hear her blood flow.

At last her ears, attuned to the tiniest murmur, heard a soft whirring. What was that? Some sort of instrument of torture?

The whirring stopped. There was a louder noise, a sort of hum, a bang, followed by what sounded like footsteps. Unmistakably now, heavy treads along a corridor somewhere outside her room. As Lisa looked towards the door she could see a square of something that should be glass but which reflected back at her. And then the square swung away as the whole door opened wide to let a figure through.

‘Awake, I see, Mrs Wildmore. Feeling any better?’

Lisa stared at the woman who’d simply walked into the room without knocking.

‘Where am I?’

‘There’s nothing to worry about...’

That sickly patronising tone. It stirred Lisa first into anger, followed rapidly by fear. Where were her children? Awake, alert, Lisa now became aware that she was isolated from anything she recognised. An unknown room, a stranger. Was this woman trying to keep her from her children?

‘I asked you where I was.’ She sat up, leaned back as she felt her head hurt with the effort, throb with ache. ‘I didn’t ask you whether there was anything to worry about. Perhaps you’d be good enough to tell me?’

‘Of course, Mrs Wildmore; it isn’t a secret. Gladstone Nursing Home. I’m sure you’ll-’

‘And where is that?’

‘Just outside Bath. I’m sure you’ll – ’

‘What am I doing here?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t answer that question; Dr Pleadling will be here shortly. He’ll clear everything up for you.’

This was absurd. ‘You are suggesting that I simply wait until some doctor graciously appears?’ Was she being held against her will? ‘Unless you give me some good reason for me to stay, I’m leaving.’

‘That won’t be possible, Mrs Wildmore.’

She
was
being held. The nurse, or whatever she was, approached her slowly. Was she about to administer some drug? An injection perhaps? Perhaps she’d talked, let slip her suspicions about cloning. An injection, she remembered. She’d talked of cloning while she was under the influence of drugs. And now they were going to shut her up for good!

‘Is this a prison?’

‘Of course not, Mrs Wildmore. It’s just that we thought – ’

‘We? Who’s that supposed to mean?
I
had nothing to do with my coming here. Where’s my husband?’

The woman had stopped uncertainly at the end of the bed, then started coming nearer.

‘You touch me and I’ll have you up for assault.’

‘Hostile reactions will not be helpful to you, Lisa. The review of your case is coming up today, you know.’

‘My name is Mrs Wildmore,’ Lisa said furiously. ‘Are you holding me here for some reason? On what grounds?’

The woman squinted at Lisa through heavy lowered lids; Big Nurse in
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
, Lisa thought grimly. Then shock at what she took to be her situation made her feel ice along her veins. Better to play along, pretend to do exactly as they wished. They might perform a lobotomy on her. Slight shoulders heaved a shudder. And then she shuddered once again as memory came flooding back.

‘Jiminy - where’s my Jiminy?’ She sobbed; that’s what it was. She saw the scene again: blue lights flashing, an ambulance, and Trevor telling her that Jiminy was dead.

The nurse had obviously rung for assistance. Several more people entered the room, including a young man.

‘Mrs Wildmore? I’m Dr Pleadling. You were admitted as an emergency.’ He smiled; his teeth gleamed white and even. As she looked Lisa thought she saw his lips draw back. The teeth now seemed to snarl at her.

‘Emergency?’

‘You’d had a terrible shock; perhaps the most dreadful experience anyone can have. I am so very sorry. Your husband – ’

‘My baby! Where’s my Jiminy?’

‘There was nothing anyone could do, Mrs Wildmore.’

‘
Where
is he? Why the hell don’t you answer my questions?’

‘You’ve been under sedation for two days – ’

‘
Jiminy!
Where’s Jiminy?’

The doctor sighed and signalled to two nurses to go over to Lisa.

‘I’m asking you where my son is,’ Lisa said, breathing in and making a supreme effort to remain calm. ‘Just answer the question. Doping me into oblivion is not going to do anything for me - or you, in the long term.’ She saw his eyes sweep over her.

‘Your little boy had a terrible accident.’

‘I know that! Where is he?’

‘He’s in a chapel of rest, in Wells.’

‘He’s dead.’

‘I’m sorry, Lisa.’

‘You don’t know me,’ she said coldly. ‘My name is Mrs Wildmore. Where’s my husband?’

‘He will be here in an hour or so. We had to admit you, you understand. Naturally you were completely grief-stricken.’

‘Grief-stricken?’

‘Overwrought, unable to cope.’

‘If everyone who lost a child was sent to a mental institution, they’d be full,’ Lisa said coldly. ‘I suppose Alec didn’t like the way I insisted someone had killed my Jiminy.’

‘No one killed him, Mrs Wildmore. You have to believe that.’

‘Have to?’

‘For your own sake. He didn’t even die of the fall.’ The young man brought a chair up to her bed, sat next to her and took her hand.

Lisa withdrew it instantly.

‘Please do believe what I am trying to tell you.’

She stared at him, eyes stony.

‘Your little son had a coronary.’ He reached out for her hand again; she hadn’t the strength to take it away.

‘My Jiminy? He was a toddler! A heart attack?’

The doctor’s hands were clasping hers. ‘I’m so very sorry. A congenital condition, a sudden failure of the valve.’

She took her hand away, drew it up to herself. ‘He’s very ill?’

‘He was liable to the instant death syndrome.’

‘He’s dead? Jiminy’s dead?’

‘It
is
very unusual, but it does happen. It means he had a sudden heart attack; his body must have slumped forward. That’s how he came to slide down the Tor. It’s very steep, of course.’

‘You’re telling me it was going to happen anyway?’

‘I’m so sorry. No one could have known about it beforehand.’

That could be true. She remembered the way the little boy had nodded off. In the car, on Brean Sands. And she remembered how she’d found him on the beach - unharmed apparently, but harbouring a fatal disease. A long low moan of anguish reverberated round the room. The tears began to stream.

‘And Janus?’ she asked. ‘What about Jansy?’

The doctor looked completely puzzled.

‘My other son,’ she said. ‘One of Jiminy’s triplet brothers.’

‘Of course. His brother showed remarkable courage; quite incredible for a child of that age. He tried to grab James to break his fall, and he snatched hold of a thorn branch. That’s why he didn’t come to worse harm himself.’ He tried a smile. ‘I’m afraid he did get hurt in the process.’

‘Hurt? Badly hurt? Jansy’s hurt?’ Her Jansy; her brave little Jansy had tried to save Jiminy.

‘He broke his leg. A compound fracture, I’m afraid.’

Her eyes began to fill with tears again. ‘Where is he?’

‘In the Bristol Royal Infirmary. He’s doing very well. A brave little chap.’

‘He’s in a cast? His leg, I mean?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘He’ll be all right?’

‘It’s wonderful what they can do in orthopaedics nowadays. Yes, there’s every reason to believe he’ll get over the fall completely. His bones are still growing, and pliable. They’ve put a plastic splinter in to hold the bones together.’

‘A plastic splinter?’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Wildmore. It’s nothing to be alarmed about. It doesn’t hurt. He’ll be – ’

‘But the splinter will stay in place?’

‘The bones grow round it; there should be no complications at all. I’m sure he will heal without any detriment to his movements.’

A piece of plastic in Janus’s leg, set in to stay with him for the rest of his life. The thoughts flitted quickly through Lisa’s mind as the stress she’d been suffering for so long now began to ease, to lighten her burden of guilt. Her monstrous problem - Jansy’s problem - had been solved. Someone, somewhere, had seen to it. God, perhaps. Janus would never clone again. She need not even bother to think about it. A feeling of euphoria, of light-headedness, made her lean back against the pillows, relief renewing grief, welling more tears.