CLONER : a Sci-Fi Novel about Human Cloning (A Captivating Story about Reproduction Outside the Womb and Identical Humans) (12 page)

CHAPTER 11

‘Yer be a dark one,’ Meg said, leading Seb by the hand and bringing him in to Lisa. ‘Fancy springing another one on we!’

‘It did rather take me by surprise.’ Lisa smiled guardedly. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got time for a gossip?’

‘Not really,’ Meg grinned at her, ‘but if yer think us’ll not be making ’un, best think again.’

Lisa watched her friend’s face carefully. Did she have any inkling about the way the new child had appeared?

‘Us do know as us mustn’t tire yer, so us won’t stay long. But yer can tell us wants to know what happened. Beats anything folk us knows ever comes across afore. Never heard the likes o’ that.’

‘Apparently such cases have been written up - at any rate about twins. And I kept telling Rita there was still a bump.’

‘Not as anybody’d notice,’ Meg said. ‘Some people be that lucky.’

‘I felt it move; I told you, didn’t I?’ Lisa insisted. ‘Of course no one took any notice of what
I
had to say.’

‘Yer did say as the scan only showed the
one
.’ Meg looked at Lisa searchingly. ‘Us knows well enough as yer think they doctors don’t know what them be on about, but that there scan’s just a machine.’

‘It must have happened after that.’

‘That can’t be right, Lisa. Yer knows what them do say. It be right early on an embryo be splitting in two.’ Meg looked at her. ‘Them all be identicals, right enough?’

The smile froze on Lisa’s face. She had no idea Meg had followed her pregnancy as carefully as that, nor that she knew so much about how identical twins come into being. ‘Really?’ Lisa managed to ask, gulping down the orange juice she was drinking to cover her confusion. She looked cautiously towards Meg. ‘Did Susan tell you that?’

But Meg had already shifted her eyes from Lisa to the cots. ‘Or three, it do appear.’

‘Doctors are always changing their minds about the latest theories. First the fertility medics told me taking the pill stops you conceiving when you come off the medication. Now they all maintain it’s the other way around and insist that’s when you’re most likely to conceive. I expect they misread the scan, or something.’

‘Mine showed as two on they scan,’ Meg said. ‘Ever so clear.’ She was staring into the cots, looking first at one baby and then at another. ‘Them be in a proper caddle. Kept telling yer as there be no twins, let alone triplets.’ Meg walked over from the cots and looked Lisa right in the eye. ‘And yer did see they monitor yerselves, right?’

‘You had a scan at seven months, Meg. Mine was at twenty weeks. They could have read almost anything into it. We simply interpreted it the way the specialist told us to.’ Lisa adjusted the pillows behind her and sat up. ‘And that slithery Parslow knew something was up, I could tell at the time. He wasn’t going to tell
us
of course. We’re only the parents.’

‘That a fact?’ Meg sounded almost excited at the prospect. ‘Yer thinks him really saw summat amiss? And didn’t let on none?’

‘I don’t know about amiss. He saw something he wasn’t sure about. Could have been one foetus right on top of another, making the image more distinct, I suppose. That’s Alec’s theory.’

‘If that were the way of it, one would be blocking two more of they.’

‘Whatever.’ Lisa was genuinely beginning to tire. The strain of the day had begun to exhaust her. And Meg’s shrewdness wasn’t as easily countered as the paternalism of the medical profession. ‘What’s it matter, anyway? The triplets are here, see for yourself.’

Meg walked slowly over to the cots again, Seb clutching her hand, pointing to the cot James was in and saying ‘More bother,’ as though he couldn’t stop.

‘Brother, Seb. You’ve got another little brother.’

‘Bwuther.’

The child’s preoccupation was making Lisa feel concerned. Had he seen something she had not? Had he confided what he’d seen to Meg? Lisa resolved to find someone else to look after the Seb, and fast. Meg knew something was up, that was clear. But precisely what that might be Lisa hadn’t yet been able to figure out.

‘Them really do be like peas in a pod. Specially they two,’ Meg continued, standing between the cots holding Janus and James. ‘So, which o’ they be the latest?’

‘Yanus, Yeffwey, Yames,’ Seb said, pointing them out in turn.

‘Seb knows which is which better than any of us,’ Lisa tried out, watching for a reaction from Meg. There wasn’t any. ‘Uncanny, isn’t it. Dr Gilmore’s brought identification bracelets to strap around their ankles. Otherwise even we might mix them up.’ She laughed, forcing gaiety into her voice. ‘We can’t rely on Seb entirely.’

‘New one be one of they two, baint that right?’

Did Meg know because Seb had pointed to them, or was she talking about the eerie resemblance between Janus and James?

‘Those two do look incredibly alike, don’t they? It’s because they both have more pointed heads, I think. Rita says they had to use them to forge their way down the birth canal. They’ll square out like Jeffrey’s within weeks.’

‘Yer saying him be the one with the bit of sticky on his wrist, right? James, yer be calling he?’

‘The plaster, yes. We put it on before the doctor got here. I didn’t want to rip it off.’

‘Funny thing about they eyes.’

‘Their eyes?’

‘Them do say as babies only focus at around eight inches early on. The one in the middle cot be looking straight at me, a real knowing look.’ Meg turned demanding eyes on Lisa. ‘Janus be the first one yer had? That be just like my Phyllis.’ Meg’s expression was looking for an echo.

Lisa wasn’t going to acknowledge that astute, far too perspicacious look. Why was Meg so concerned to compare Janus to Phyllis? Phyllis was Paul’s fraternal twin, quite different from Janus’s relationship to Jeffrey. What could Meg possibly think Phyllis and Janus had in common?

‘The doctors say they can’t smile for ages, too,’ Lisa sidetracked as negligently as she could. ‘I know Seb smiled at me within the first week.’

‘Yer know what do come to mind?’ Meg stood stolidly beside the cots, comparing the three babies.

It was all Lisa could do to stop herself from shuddering. Meg was going to come right out with it, tell her she knew. She’d just deny it. Whatever Meg said, she’d simply call her bluff. There was no way that Meg could
prove
anything.

Lisa put her arms around Seb and busied herself looking at the drawing he’d brought back for her, her eyes scanning the paper with its criss-crossed crayon marks.

‘What Don’s been on about,’ Meg persisted.

‘Is this our house?’ Lisa looked at Seb and pointed to an accidental triangle on the piece of paper he’d given her.

‘House,’ Seb agreed happily.

‘Yer know Don; Don Chivers.’

Lisa’s hands, shaking a little, began to fold Seb’s paper into two, then four.

‘No, Mummy! S’my dwawing.’

‘Sorry, darling.’ She kept her features rigid, her voice breathy, neither denying nor admitting to knowing Don.

‘Our stockman, Lisa!’

Lisa’s face remained blank as she straightened out the piece of paper and solemnly handed it back to Seb.

‘Him be the one as does all the donkey work, keeps tabs on which cow calved and that.’ Meg turned her head to look at Lisa again. ‘Susan Andrews be married to his nephew. Course yer knows Don!’

‘Really?’ Lisa looked at Meg, genuinely surprised. It was amazing, the intricate network of relationships in the area. ‘I’d no idea he and Susan are part of the same family.’

Lisa remembered Don Chivers’ visit only too well; the way he’d talked about securing metal to her babies, because clothes didn’t ‘stay on they tight enough’. Most of all she remembered Don had maintained that when he forgot to tag one of a pair of newly-born twin lambs it had turned into two the next time he’d looked. The parallel with Janus could not be denied: Don knew it could happen.
That
was why he’d wanted to see the twins, why he’d scrutinised them so carefully. He’d even guessed it might happen with one of them before it had.

She could picture him now, reluctant to hold Janus. He’d looked for something, recognised it, been unnerved by it. So he’d tried to tell her what was needed - tried to tell her how to protect her children.

Lisa wasn’t going to challenge his suggestion this time. She’d get permanent metal identification bracelets fastened to the triplets as quickly as she could.

She forced her lips into an upward curve and crinkled her eyes. ‘Of course I know Don, Meg. He’s brought the goat’s milk over a couple of times. Sorry, I’m still feeling groggy.’

‘Him did say right from the start, and him keeps saying, time and again: “that many lambs baint natural”.’

Had Meg worked out what had really happened? Was she fumbling towards the truth, but not quite there? Lisa’s pulse began to race. Play dumb, deny it, say how ridiculous.

‘Us had seven lambs from the one ewe just t’other day.’ Meg looked at Lisa again. ‘Don said as him couldn’t believe what hisn eyes told he.’

‘Seven? From one ewe?’ It sounded crazy, but not necessarily what Lisa was terrified Meg would say. Lisa took a deep breath. ‘That does sound over the top. Has anything like it ever happened before?’ Her voice sounded tremulous, even to herself. She coughed slightly.

Meg wasn’t to be deterred. ‘Been known. British record were set in early 1991.’

‘How can you possibly be sure they were all from the one ewe?’ The sixty-four thousand dollar question.

‘’Cos Don delivered they.’

Delivered them...
delivered
them! She was safe. Don hadn’t confided his real suspicions to Meg. These multiple lambs hadn’t split
outside
the womb. Maybe they had split late; very late on, perhaps. But no one could know that. That was, of course, how Jeffrey had been produced - by the foetus splitting just before birth. Janus - Lisa was sure that it had to be Janus - had split inside the womb. That’s what she’d felt, that’s what she’d seen happening when she watched her abdomen change shape, elongate sideways. Now she understood why the doctors hadn’t been able to find any trace of twins. Lisa’s veins relaxed as she smiled broadly.

‘Him could see as the ewe be having trouble with the first one. Couldn’t credit it when more kept popping out. And all identically marked; him’d never heard of such a thing afore.’ Meg looked directly at Lisa, challenging her. ‘So this be your lot, then. Right?’

The relief was so enormous Lisa felt practically light-headed. ‘Honestly, Meg. You really are letting your imagination run away with you. Not very likely there are any more, is it?’ She patted her flat stomach.

‘Us do reckon it be down to that Multiplier stuff. May be organically based, but it baint right, somehow.’

Even if that were true, Lisa wondered how it could possibly have affected
her
. She laughed; a high, shrill laugh. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, Meg; I’m not a farm animal, and I don’t eat grass.’

‘But yer did suck they clover petals,’ Meg reminded her. ‘Us did say at the time: three leaves and that. Could bring on triplets.’

Actually what Lisa remembered was that Meg had said clover made sheep swell up. And something about country lore maintaining that it was bad for pregnant women. And the clover she’d found had had four leaves, not three. A four-leaf clover, in Lisa’s mythology, was meant to bring good luck. The luck that she’d asked for was twins. It had overdone that bit. ‘Honestly, Meg. Just one suck at the nectar, to show Seb.’

‘It did make yer sick. And yer did have the butter and cheese us made from milking they Jerseys pastured on the home meadow. And the cream. Yer remember, the time yer found out as yer be carrying again.’

‘Of course I remember. You said you didn’t fertilise that pasture. You said you ran it like a medieval field.’

‘Meadow. Us do. But there be drift. All they fields around be fertilised, like the rest of the farm. The one Frank set aside for special testing of Multiplier be upalong the home meadow. Us did see they cows crane their necks to get at the grass on t’other side o’ the fence. Especially that clover. Always at it. Draws they, somehow.’

‘They’ve been twin calving, then?’

‘No, matter of fact. Them calved earlier on. Us been keeping they as milch cows. So them don’t really count. Them only just be in calf again now.’

Meg, Lisa could see, was clearly toying with the idea of foetuses splitting in the womb at a late stage. Encouraged, she would believe in it. Challenged, she might be thrown off the scent, or at least driven into defensive silence. Either way,
that
didn’t really matter too much. How long before the real shattering truth of splitting
outside
the womb dawned on her?

‘So let me get this straight. You think that because I sucked nectar out of a few clover petals, and ate your homemade butter and cheese-’ She looked at Meg defiantly. ‘And don’t forget the yoghurt, that’s what I really went to town on, I ate that every day - my baby split into three inside the womb at a much later stage than normal.’

Perhaps Meg
had
put her finger on the cause. She’d steer right away from the Graftleys’ dairy produce, even though Meg had assured her that the goats and chickens were completely isolated from any sort of fertiliser. Meg was determined on that, in spite of what Frank said. She always stood up to him on that point. But the fertiliser could leach from one part of the farm to another; and, anyway, maybe Frank used Multiplier on Meg’s part of the farm behind her back. He was always greedy for extra produce.

Meg laughed uncomfortably. ‘That do sound really daft, put like that. Reckon what Don keep saying about the stock be getting to us.’ She took a deep breath in, her eyes solemn. ‘But there be something yer should know. Something I never told you-’

‘Lisa? Is everything OK?’

She could hear Alec bounding up the stairs, back home as fast as he could make it. She was delighted to hear his voice.

‘Oh, hello Meg. Helping us out again?’

‘Just brought Seb back, Alec. Well, us’d better run. Yer be knookered out, and Sally and Jean’ll be getting they twins their tea. Us likes to be there to see to they.’

‘We really can’t go on making use of Meg,’ Alec said as soon as she’d gone. ‘I’ve been on to the agency. They can’t find us a nanny. They say we’re just too far out in the sticks.’