CLONER : a Sci-Fi Novel about Human Cloning (A Captivating Story about Reproduction Outside the Womb and Identical Humans) (5 page)

‘Let go that pushchair,’ Meg had scolded Phyllis last time they were there. ‘You’re pushing Paul in the rhyne.’

Lisa had wondered how a child as young as Phyllis could possibly have such strength. The clubfoot was a very minor defect. Phyllis wouldn’t even know she’d had it by the time she became an adult. And the twins were the darlings of their older sisters, and of Don.

Dour by nature, normally too shy to speak to anyone, Don Chivers seemed to take a special interest in Paul and Phyllis. Lisa had noticed him looking into the double pram, heard him say a word or two to them. Meg had told her that Don had never shown any special regard for her other children. ‘Those two young ’uns get to him, somehow,’ she’d boasted to Lisa. ‘Phyllie specially. He always be round her.’

‘Really?’ Lisa, though appreciating Don’s qualities, was nervous of a man who hardly spoke, but whose penetrating look she found disturbing. ‘And what about the birth? Anything difficult about that?’

‘Don’t know that I remember all that much on it.’ Meg’s eyes looked sad, almost dejected. She’d talked volubly about the birth of her other children often enough. Made jokes, put Lisa at ease during the last few days before she’d given birth to Seb.

‘You mean the gas and air?’

‘Gas and… No, didn’t bother none with that.’ Meg turned away, giving Lisa the distinct feeling that she was hiding something. But what? ‘The births be easy enough. All done in fifteen minutes.’

‘You are lucky,’ Lisa breathed, enjoying the three toddlers tumbling about. ‘Isn’t it wonderful? They clamber all over each other but never seem to come to any harm!’

‘Like kittens, I reckon. Keep they claws sheathed.’ Meg still sounded grudging in a way Lisa couldn’t really understand.

‘It would be lovely to have two.’

‘One way to get round Alec,’ Meg agreed, then seemed to become broody, oddly reserved. She noticed Lisa look at her and brightened. ‘Quite a bit of hard work, they be. Especially when there be a lively one, like my Phyllie. Had that new pram in tatters almost from the start.’ Meg smiled. ‘And she baint one for sleeping. Happen Paul goes through the night, you can be sure her won’t!’ Meg seemed more cheerful as, confident in her mothering, she bundled a toddler under each arm and carried them, squirming, to the waiting pushchair. ‘But you get used to it soon enough.’

Lisa watched her dexterously place one child in a seat whilst still holding the other under her arm. Then she wagged her finger at Phyllis to stay in place while she went over to the other side and settled Paul. She strapped them both into their seats.

‘Can’t afford to turn your back for one minute. What one don’t think on t’other will.’

Meg was taking her time over the scrubbing down. Always meticulous, this time she seemed to be exerting unnecessary energy. She polished the gleaming churn for the third time, her face and body red.

‘Don don’t like the look of it,’ she finally blurted out, returning to her butter, patting it into box shapes all over again. ‘Makes me feel agitated. What Don don’t know about farming just baint worth the knowing.’

‘He doesn’t like the look of what, Meg?’

‘All they multiple births. He do keep saying it “baint natural”.’

‘I expect he just remembers the way things were done in his young days,’ Lisa said absently, not sure what Meg was getting at, or why she took so much notice of Don. ‘Lambs are bred for twinning now; that means double the profit. Farming must have changed out of all recognition since he was young.’

‘Too much of a good thing. The hens be laying more than ever them did, and mostly double-yolkers. Seems creepy, somehow.’

‘Would you rather they didn’t lay at all?’ Lisa laughed.

Meg had a way of looking along her nose which Lisa didn’t much care for.

‘What us do mean,’ she added hurriedly, ‘is that it might all just as easily go the other way. You said it yourself, it all evens out in the end. You can’t fool nature.’

Meg shrugged her ample shoulders and heaved a milk container to one side.

‘Take some of my goat’s milk cheese,’ Meg urged Lisa. ‘I’ve started making ewe cheese as well. Better for you than factory cheddar, any day.’ She wrapped small cylinders of cheese in greaseproof paper. ‘And mind now; goat’s milk be better for babies than cow’s milk. We got plenty enough. There be two nannies, now.’

‘That’s really sweet of you. I’m going to try breast feeding again. Perhaps I’ll have more luck this time!’

‘Always the best,’ Meg agreed sagely. ‘You could try taking basil tea. Just the job for stimulating milk.’

‘Really?’

‘Easy to make.’ Meg smiled. ‘And just get Alec to bring Seb over if you’re pushed,’ she went on. ‘You know, if you feel tired, or the contractions start earlier than you’d planned on.’

‘It’s wonderful to know you’ll stand by,’ Lisa said gratefully. She was already sure she’d need Meg’s help. A frisson of happy anticipation shivered through her, then suddenly turned to dread. What if her wish for twins ended in tragedy? Was she wishing trouble on her family by being greedy?

‘Susan be very good,’ Meg reassured her again. ‘She saw me right.’

‘Didn’t Gilmore insist on hospital once the scan showed two?’

‘Gilmore? We didn’t bother none with him. No, t’was all agreed between Susan and me. Us managed very nicely, thank you!’

‘I hope I’m not early,’ Lisa said absently. ‘Susan’s going on holiday soon. Even Dr Gilmore might be away then.’

‘The relief midwife do seem sound enough,’ Meg put in quickly. Speed wasn’t Meg’s way, Lisa knew. It meant the relief midwife’s reputation wasn’t yet established.

‘What about Gareth Witherton? He’s the new doctor in the practice, isn’t he? I thought he was supposed to be specially keen on home confinements.’

‘Don’t know nothing about he.’ Meg rushed for Seb who was about to place his plastic duck in her butter churn. ‘Us don’t often feel poorly. Frank puts it down to sticking to organic grub. Pays to pay that bit more attention to proper food.’

‘And now the Flaxton fertilisers are producing results beyond inorganic farming, anyway.’

There was just a moment too long before Meg answered. Was she holding something back? A premonition of danger flitted through Lisa’s mind, then disappeared.

Meg looked her usual self as she hefted the double pushchair over a drainage gully. ‘That be you lot out of harm’s way.’ She gently kissed her twins. The love in her voice was entirely reassuring. She turned back to Lisa, her eyes faintly clouded. ‘Frank do say as Multiplier be organically based. Should be just the job.’

‘But you don’t entirely trust it?’

‘Don’t rightly know; nothing us can put our finger on for sure. Too good to be true, somehow. Something for nothing.’

Meg collected her butter, gleaming gold, a faintly acrid smell in the air, and looked at Lisa leaning back against the wall. ‘Just got to sluice the floor. Be through in a tick,’ she said, concern in her voice. ‘Then yer can have a sit down. Anyway, all be due to that special plankton them do use, Frank says. Fancy Multiplier being developed here, to Somerset!’

‘The grass looks marvellous.’

‘Almost a bit too lush.’

The field beyond the home meadow was drowsing in unusually warm winter sunshine. The latest herd of bullocks was huddled under the whitethorn hedge to the left of the field, the animals swishing their tails and keeping away from the sun. A few, thirstier than the rest, were exposing themselves to danger by steeping into the rhynes lining the pastures and now only trickling water. It had been a dry winter.

‘Frank’ll need to get they water pumps going,’ Meg was saying anxiously. ‘What with the size of the herd, there baint enough for they to drink. Us had one die only t’other day.’

‘Did you?’ One out of so many didn’t seem terrible to Lisa.

‘Costs a mint to get the knackers out. Can’t get nothing for a dead animal,’ Meg explained to Lisa. ‘Even for pet food. That be against they new regulations.’

Lisa looked uncertainly at the animals now crowding down towards picturesque withies edging a rhyne. ‘But you’ve had lots more than usual this year, haven’t you?’

‘What be strange is that when Frank goes out to tag they, he often finds them knows. Many’s the time them try to get away. None of they likes the tagging, of course, but them do seem to know as he’s going to do it. Maybe Multiplier makes they brighter as well as fatter!’ Meg laughed.

‘Can’t be bad,’ Lisa agreed, vaguely remembering that Don had also mentioned tagging lambs, and that one of them had managed to dodge him.

Phyllis bent down to her foot, pulling at the brace, fretfully kicking her leg.

‘Come on now, Phyllie. Us’ll be taking that off soon.’

The child kicked petulantly, with strength enough to displace the double pushchair.

It seemed to be taking the strain well. Lisa examined it critically. ‘Is this a good type of pushchair?’

‘Can cope with Phyllie’s temper,’ Meg snorted. ‘Got to be strong for that.’

CHAPTER 5

‘Guess what?’ Alec was on the phone, excitement mounting in his voice. ‘It’s been confirmed. Multiplier not only increases herb yields by a factor of three, it seems to affect the meat yield as well!’

‘Meat yield?’ Lisa, feeding Sebastian his lunch, had no idea what Alec was so fired up about.

‘Has the effect of making cows produce calves with quicker growth rates, and they go on to become bigger beef cattle.’

‘Really?’

‘And the ewes produce lambs with bigger yields on both wool and meat, though that’s almost too much of a good thing.’

Sebastian made a stab at the food on his plate. Lisa steered his spoon into the mashed potato while holding the phone in her left hand. ‘It is?’

‘People think it’s mutton, not lamb.’

‘Of course.’

Lisa heaped a few pieces of carrot into Seb’s mouth, then let him feed himself. The new baby was due in a couple of weeks, and could be early. Seb would need to do as much for himself as possible. ‘You’re going to have a baby brother soon,’ she cooed at him. ‘Won’t that be lovely? Then you can play with him.’

‘Bother,’ Seb said dutifully.

Lisa laughed. Bother was right even if he didn’t know it.

‘Lisa? You there? OK if I bring Frank round?’ Alec was asking her. ‘We need to go over some figures and our place is quieter than theirs - at least for the time being,’ he added, not altogether jocularly.

‘He’ll have to take pot luck.’

‘I’ll pick up some scrumpy,’ Alec chortled down the phone. ‘By the time we get round to the meal he won’t know the difference.’

Lisa marvelled again at Alec’s confidence. He was the newcomer. Frank’s family had lived in Somerset for generations, all experts at cider making - and sampling.

‘You mean you won’t,’ she teased him, telling herself she’d take a couple of gallon jars to Meg’s and have them filled. ‘I’ll get supplies in for you,’ she told him. ‘See you later.’

She slid the phone back in its charger and turned to Seb. ‘Janus,’ she said. ‘Your little brother’s going to be called Janus.’

The twenty-month-old looked at her and suddenly spat potato all over the table, at the same time knocking off his mug of apple juice.

‘Seb!’ Lisa caught herself shouting, ‘that’s a horrid thing to do.’

‘
Another
helping? Sure you’re feeling all right?’ Alec asked his wife. ‘You don’t normally eat that much.’

‘I’m simply ravenous,’ Lisa explained. ‘The business of eating for two, I suppose.’

‘You look rather uncomfortable.’ Alec’s forehead furrowed into deep slits as he peered at Lisa, then poured more cider for Frank. ‘Quite a bit bigger than last time. I could have sworn you’ve billowed out since we started the meal.’ He walked towards his wife and stared at her. ‘You can hardly reach the table. I thought this was supposed to be another tiddler?’

Though larger than with her first child Lisa had, until recently, remained remarkably trim. The angular look had softened to a gentle roundness, a hint, even, of plumpness. But she was still small and dainty. Fragile wrists gave away a delicate bone-structure and the bump of baby, though evidently there, had been by no means massive. Until two weeks ago. That’s when she’d noticed an extraordinary increase in her appetite, a sort of greed she couldn’t control. She’d eaten constantly, watching herself expand to quite unprecedented proportions.

‘The muscles aren’t as tight as the first time,’ Lisa explained. A languorous calm, a feeling of composure, made her sound plausible. ‘I expect it just shows more.’

Alec looked at her pensively but made no further comment. She smiled, covering the curious sensations now evident in her body by pointing to her husband’s favourite pudding - crème caramel. ‘More for you?’

He laughed and passed his plate. ‘I suppose you must be OK if you’re up to thinking about feeding me!’

‘What about you, Frank?’

‘Good grub, that.’ He smiled as he handed her his plate.

Though the baby wasn’t due for a fortnight Lisa was prepared for an earlier delivery. None of the antenatal checks had shown signs of anything other than a single baby, but Lisa stuck to her original conviction. Twins, she knew, were often premature.

‘My carrycot’s a mess,’ she’d insisted to Meg, watching her stack her baby equipment to give to Cancer Relief. ‘Could I possibly use one of yours?’

‘Yer can have both on they, if yer want!’ Meg had said, looking at her sharply. ‘Us won’t be having no more. Six be enough young ’uns for anyone. Be yer still thinking about twins?’

‘Mr Parslow ruled out any possibility,’ she’d said, annoyed at Meg’s quick interpretation.

‘But yer won’t be taking chances,’ Meg had concluded for her. ‘Parslow may be a specialist, but him be a man. And yer be bigger this time. Us can hardly credit it.’

Everything was going well so far. Seb was safely tucked away in his cot, Alec was crunching figures with Frank, and what she was experiencing might well turn out to be a false alarm. But even if it were not she was determined to hold out until the last minute before calling in the medical profession. If she were to be two weeks early they might be disposed to rush her off to hospital. Lisa’s instincts called for a home delivery, her whole being screamed out for it. Something unusual was going on, she knew there was. And the only way she could remain in charge was to give birth in her own home.

Lisa felt some further movements in her womb; not really contractions, more like a lively infant turning inside her.

‘I’ll leave you two men to it,’ she excused herself as soon as they’d finished supper. ‘I’m feeling a bit tired.’

Alec looked up. ‘Positive you’re all right? Shall I give the midwife a ring?’

‘I’m fine, Alec; don’t fuss. I’ll just have an early night.’

‘Us’ll be doing the straightening up for yer.’ Frank smiled at her. ‘Don’t yer worry none.’

She saw Alec’s lips tighten but he started clearing the table amiably enough. She smiled her thanks and walked upstairs to her bedroom. That faint slither of worry she thought she’d subdued was beginning to insert itself into her mind again. Was she being pig-headed, risking the new life within her? If it
were
twins, and they were about to be born, they must be tiny to have escaped detection.

The turmoil in her belly seemed to have subsided, but not its size. Lisa, lying on her bed, patted her bump, feeling around its edges for the two sets of limbs she was convinced she’d find. Nothing, really. But Alec had a point. She was enormous, a Humpty Dumpty puffed out so much she could hardly keep her balance. That odd enveloping feeling of fullness which she didn’t remember from her first pregnancy was quite disturbing. She heaped cushions behind her back and to the sides to keep herself upright, then wrapped the duvet around herself.