Twice as Good

by Alison Roberts

  ‘Good move,’ Jamie said approvingly when he returned to the kitchen, having been to the bathroom to wash his hands. ‘Things are getting tidied up remarkably fast. Will you let them keep the rats?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Janet was adding dried pasta to the pot of boiling water. ‘It might stop them begging for a dog for a while longer.’

  ‘Why don’t you want a dog?’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t want one.’ Janet opened a drawer and searched for a corkscrew. ‘It’s simply not practical.’ She handed the corkscrew to Jamie. ‘Could you open the wine, please? I’d better go and make sure those children have scrubbed their hands.’

  Adam and Rory raced into the kitchen minutes later. They sat down on either side of the table and watched Janet draining the spaghetti.

  ‘Cool!’ Rory announced. ‘Worms for tea.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Janet reprimanded him. ‘Do sit down, Jamie—we’re almost ready.’

  Jamie sat down at one end of the table. Janet sat at the other, having served their meals. Adam and Rory were making faces at each other, trying not to laugh, as they attacked the uncooperative food with their forks. Rory picked up the end of a long piece of pasta, holding it up in his fingers and wiggling it. Adam collapsed in giggles.

  ‘That’s enough!’ Janet warned sharply. She glanced apprehensively at Jamie. Did teaching table manners figure importantly in the catalogue of maternal skills? Jamie was having difficulty keeping a straight face. The eye contact with Janet was too much for him and he laughed.

  ‘I remember my mother telling me off for calling spaghetti worms,’ he confessed. ‘I’d forgotten about it until now.’

  Adam and Rory looked at him admiringly. ‘Did your mother make you eat toenails, too?’

  Jamie’s glance appealed to Janet for assistance. She laughed. ‘They don’t like the oat husks in their porridge,’ she explained. ‘They have it for breakfast every day.’

  ‘I did, too,’ Jamie told the boys. ‘It’s the best breakfast in the world. Everybody eats it in Scotland, where I come from.’

  ‘Our mum comes from Scotland,’ Rory announced importantly.

  ‘I know.’ Jamie nodded agreement.

  ‘Our dad does, too,’ Adam added. ‘That’s where he lives.’

  ‘Is it?’ Jamie’s forkful of spaghetti halted in midair. He caught Janet’s eye. She looked away quickly.

  ‘Was your porridge full of toenails?’ Rory asked with interest. ‘Did you have to spit them out?’

  ‘Uh …’ Jamie was still looking at Adam. ‘I don’t remember.’

  ‘We do,’ Adam confided. ‘When Mum’s not looking.’

  ‘Who gets the most?’ Jamie turned his attention back to his plate.

  ‘I do,’ Rory said.

  ‘No—I do,’ Adam contradicted.

  ‘How many do you get on average, then?’ Jamie enquired.

  ‘What’s average?’

  Janet ate quietly, listening to Jamie explain how to calculate an average. The boys were listening attentively. Part of Janet sat back, observing the scene. The small table had someone on each side. A complete set. A real family. Janet put her fork down hurriedly. ‘Who’s ready for ice cream?’

  ‘Me!’ the twins shouted in gleeful unison.

  ‘Me, too,’ Jamie added. ‘That was great. Thanks very much, Janet.’ His gaze was as warmly appreciative as his tone. He was referring to more than the meal.

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Janet’s smile felt a little tight. ‘You’ll have to come back again soon.’

  Jamie left when the twins were shuttled off to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Janet refused his offer to help with the dishes. Being a visitor was one thing. She wasn’t ready for his inclusion in the more intimate domestic routine of her household.

  It was easier at work. Jamie made a point of talking to the twins when they arrived to wait for Janet after school the next afternoon. They discussed the dietary requirements of juvenile rodents. On Wednesday afternoon Janet saw the boys disappearing into Jamie’s consulting room.

  ‘They asked if they could have a go on the computer,’ he explained as he came out for his next patient. ‘I thought I could see Mrs Simpson in the side room.’

  Janet went looking for them half an hour later when she was ready to go home. She could hear Rory’s piping voice through the open door.

  ‘We were going to get our own computer for our birthday,’ he was saying sadly. ‘But we burnt down Mrs Carpenter’s shed by mistake.’

  ‘Is not getting a computer your punishment, then?’

  Janet paused outside the door at the sound of Jamie’s voice.

  ‘Not really.’ Adam sounded ready to defend his mother’s methods of discipline. ‘It’s just that Mum saved up for a whole year for the deposit and now she has to give the money to Mrs Carpenter instead.’

  ‘Oh.’ Jamie sounded understanding. ‘That’s a shame.’

  ‘Maybe we’ll get a PlayStation instead,’ Rory said matter-of-factly. ‘They’re cheaper.’

  Janet bustled into the room as though she hadn’t paused in her journey. ‘Time to go home, boys.’

  ‘Can Jamie come for tea again?’ Adam asked.

  ‘Not tonight,’ Janet said, a little too quickly.

  ‘Tomorrow?’ Rory suggested.

  Janet hesitated. Adam’s face was screwing itself into persuasive lines. ‘Please, Mum? We want to show him the maze. It’s all finished now.’

  ‘I’d like to see that,’ Jamie said enthusiastically. He was watching Janet carefully, adding yet another set of brown eyes, awaiting a decision.

  ‘OK,’ Janet agreed. ‘Tomorrow’s fine.’

  Jamie arrived earlier on Thursday evening. Janet hadn’t even started the meal preparations. She looked at the familiar cardboard containers Jamie was holding.

  ‘Was the spaghetti that bad?’ she asked with mock indignation. ‘You’ve come prepared for the worst tonight.’

  Jamie grinned. ‘I raided your cupboard. I thought they might be a useful addition to the maze.’

  Janet shook her head. ‘Go on, then. Add to the mess. Now that the maze is built it can’t be tidied away apparently. The connections would break.’

  Janet worked in the kitchen for half an hour, peacefully uninterrupted. She’d splashed out a bit tonight, roasting a chicken and vegetables. She hoped the boys wouldn’t reveal that this dinner was normally reserved for special occasions. Ready to call everyone together for the meal, Janet found them all lying on the living room floor. Jamie had a rat on his head. Rory held a cardboard tube that had a pink tail emerging from one end. They barely noticed Janet’s entrance. An in-depth discussion of football was in progress.

  ‘The Crusaders always win,’ Adam said proudly. ‘They’re the best.’

  ‘The Highlanders are pretty good, too,’ Janet reminded him. ‘They might even win the final. Now put those rats away and go and wash your hands. All of you.’

  Jamie was the first to comply. The twins raced him to the door.

  ‘We’ve got the Crusaders music on a tape,’ Rory told Jamie excitedly. ‘Would you like to hear it?’

  ‘Sure,’ Jamie agreed. ‘After you’ve put Popeye and Olive away.’

  ‘Popeye and Olive?’ Janet queried as soon as Jamie reached the kitchen.

  ‘They needed names,’ Jamie said seriously. ‘And their eyes kind of stick out, don’t they?’

  Janet turned off the oven. ‘I hope you’re not telling me we’ve got a male and a female rat.’

  Jamie grinned. ‘Hadn’t you noticed?’

  Janet groaned. ‘I hadn’t looked.’ She lifted the chicken onto the carving dish. ‘I hope they’re not going to …’

  Jamie was standing close beside her. He reached for the carving knife on the bench, his arm brushing Janet’s. He stopped suddenly.

  ‘Going to what, Janet?’ he asked softly. ‘Make babies?’ Janet could feel his breath on the side of her neck. ‘Like we did?’

  Janet turned
her head slowly and raised her glance. She met the look in Jamie’s eyes and her mouth went dry. A shaft of desire speared her abdomen with an exquisite pain.

  ‘Chicken!’ Rory shouted behind her elbow. ‘Cool!’

  ‘It’s not even our birthday,’ Adam crowed. ‘Can I have a drumstick?’

  ‘Can I have one, too?’ Rory was holding their small cassette player. ‘We’ve brought the Crusaders’ song for you, Jamie.’

  Jamie dragged his eyes away from Janet’s. ‘Why don’t you play it,’ he suggested, ‘while I find you a drumstick each?’ He grinned at the boys. ‘It’s just as well a chicken’s got two legs, isn’t it?’

  ‘Conquest of Paradise’ had been played a total of six times by the end of the meal. Jamie had been suitably impressed.

  ‘Stirring stuff,’ he pronounced. ‘I hope Mr Collins was right. Definitely preferable to bright lights and tunnels.’

  ‘Who’s Mr Collins?’ Rory asked.

  ‘A Crusaders fan,’ Janet told them. ‘If you’ve finished your dinner you’d better go and do your homework. I haven’t seen a reading book all week.’

  Adam and Rory both made disgusted faces. Jamie looked surprised. ‘Don’t you like reading?’

  The boys were silent. Janet had to find something to say to break the uncomfortable silence.

  ‘The boys aren’t finding reading very easy at the moment,’ she said casually. ‘We’re working on it.’

  ‘It’s because we’re twins,’ Adam said unexpectedly.

  ‘Really?’ Jamie sounded intrigued. ‘How does that work?’

  ‘Ben says there was only one brain and so we got half each,’ Rory explained. ‘That’s why we’re dumb.’

  Janet bit her lip. She’d never heard that particular bit of peer wisdom. How was she going to start building the boys’ confidence in their abilities if they believed a notion like that?

  ‘I don’t believe you for a minute,’ Jamie said easily. ‘Can I see your reading books?’

  Janet did the dishes alone again. She also put the washing on, tidied the twins’ bunk beds and ran a bath for them. They still hadn’t emerged from the living room. Again, Janet found the three of them lying on their stomachs on the floor, propped up on their elbows. Jamie had a book open under his nose.

  ‘C and h,’ he was saying. ‘Ch.’ What’s something you could put in a sandwich that starts like that?’

  ‘Chips,’ Adam offered.

  ‘Chocolate.’ Rory giggled.

  ‘What else?’

  The twins were clearly engrossed. Janet sat quietly on the arm of the couch. Where had Jamie learned how to teach reading?

  ‘Chops,’ Adam decided.

  ‘Chicken,’ Rory said hopefully.

  ‘OK, look at the picture,’ Jamie directed. The boys leaned closer, one of either side of Jamie. The three heads were virtually touching. Golden blond curls meeting the darker waves of Jamie’s hair. It was the colour their hair would turn as they got older. Hints of the darker brown were already coming through. Janet felt a poignant stab at the reminder of how quickly the boys were growing and changing. She saw their suddenly eager faces as they both looked up into the face of the man lying between them.

  ‘Cheese!’ they both said triumphantly.

  ‘Very good!’ Jamie congratulated them. ‘Well done. I’m proud of you.’

  ‘I’m proud of you, too,’ Janet said. Jamie and the boys looked up in surprise. ‘Now it’s time for a bath and bed.’

  ‘Aw, Mum. Can’t we do some more reading with Jamie? Please?’

  ‘It’s fun,’ Adam added.

  ‘We’ll do some more next time,’ Jamie said. ‘You heard what your mum said. Now, scoot!’

  The boys scooted. Jamie climbed to his feet and looked down at Janet, still perched on the arm of the couch.

  ‘They’re certainly not dumb,’ he told her. ‘They’re a bright little pair.’

  ‘That’s what Josh said. He couldn’t believe how fast they picked things up on his computer. I don’t know why they’re having trouble with reading.’

  Jamie shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s too slow to be interesting.’ He held Janet’s gaze. ‘They should have a computer. There must be great software around to help with reading skills. The combination might be just what they need to get started.’

  Janet stood up. ‘I’m going to get them a computer,’ she said defensively.

  ‘When you can afford it.’ Jamie quirked an eyebrow. ‘When will that be, Janet?’

  ‘As soon as possible,’ Janet responded stiffly.

  ‘They need it right now.’

  ‘Well, they can’t have it right now.’ Janet glared at Jamie. ‘Not everyone gets what they want or need precisely when they want or need it, you know.’

  ‘They could have it now,’ Jamie said evenly. ‘I could buy them a computer.’

  ‘I’m sure you could,’ Janet said bitterly. ‘I’m sure you can afford a lot of things I can’t. You could buy the boys’ love with no trouble at all.’

  ‘Is that what you think I want to do?’

  Janet shrugged. ‘It’s a lot quicker than earning it. You won’t have to spend years making do and keeping rules. Putting up with the noise and mess, sorting out the arguments and nursing them through all the illnesses. I’ve done all that. By myself.’

  Jamie’s face tightened. ‘And whose fault was that, Janet? Did you give me any choice?’

  Janet was silent. She could see Jamie’s anger gathering and wished it wasn’t too late to take back what she’d said.

  ‘The only reason I wasn’t there is because of your stubbornness. Your lies.’ Jamie’s fists were clenched. ‘I’ve missed knowing my children as babies. Watching them grow into children. I’ve missed their first teeth, their first steps, their first words. It’s unforgivable, Janet.’

  Janet remained mute. What could she possibly say in her own defence? She’d felt the sadness of being reminded how fast her children were growing and changing only minutes before and she hadn’t missed any of the milestones Jamie was so aware of.

  ‘We agreed to put the past behind us so I’m trying very hard not to hold what I’ve missed against you,’ Jamie said with an obvious effort at self-control. ‘I’m not going to let it interfere with the relationship I can have with my sons now. You owe it to me to stand back. You’ve got no right to deny Adam and Rory what I can offer them because of your jealousy.’

  ‘I’m not jealous,’ Janet protested fiercely.

  ‘Yes, you are.’ Jamie eyed her impassively. ‘You always were. If you hadn’t been, I might have been here to earn the love of my children. I might not be standing here realising just how important what I’ve missed was. How nothing could ever make up for that loss.’

  Janet had to look away. The bitter accusation was, in part, justified. She wanted to apologise—to say she understood—but the words would trivialise the depth of the emotions involved. Saying sorry wouldn’t make things right. She could never make things completely right. But she could make a start.

  ‘Maybe you could wait until their birthday to give them a computer,’ she suggested quietly. ‘It’s only a month away. Otherwise they might wonder why they’re getting such a big present.’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s time to tell them the real reason?’

  ‘No.’ Janet turned a frightened gaze towards Jamie. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because … because they’re not ready.’

  ‘You mean you’re not ready.’

  ‘They’ve only just met you,’ Janet said slowly. ‘They really like you. But I don’t know how they’ll react to the truth. They might … they might feel threatened.’

  Jamie’s gaze hadn’t left Janet’s face. ‘You mean you feel threatened,’ he said softly. His face relaxed a little. ‘All right. We’ll wait a little longer.’ Jamie cleared his throat. ‘I’d like to take the boys out on Saturday. To spend some time alone with them.’

  Janet nodded. That was the usual sort of
access arrangement between estranged parents. She could handle it.

  ‘Any suggestions of a good place to take them?’

  ‘I’m sure the boys will have plenty of ideas. Why don’t you go up and ask them?’

  ‘Aren’t they in the bath?’

  ‘It’s time they got out.’ Janet bent to pick the instructional reading book up from the floor. ‘Do the parent thing and make them clean their teeth and get into bed.’ She straightened and found Jamie looking at her with a strange expression. Then he smiled. A small, rather pleased smile.

  ‘Sure.’ The smile faded, making him look very serious. ‘I’ll do the parent thing.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JANET opened the autoclave hatch cautiously.

  Her fingers were well away from the escaping steam. Jamie nodded approvingly. ‘See? If you’re not in too much of a hurry, you won’t get hurt.’

  Janet smiled sweetly. ‘I’m sure I’ll acquire the necessary wisdom by the time I reach your advanced years, Jamie McFadden.’

  ‘I’m only five years older than you,’ Jamie protested mildly. ‘Thirty-five is hardly geriatric.’ He eyed the tray Janet was setting out. ‘Has our patient arrived yet?’

  ‘No.’ Janet reached for a pack of dressings. ‘But Constance is worth waiting for. You’ll love her.’

  ‘I suppose she can be forgiven for not moving at the speed of light. How old is she again?’

  Janet grinned. ‘Ninety-eight. Her daughter is driving her in.’

  Jamie raised an eyebrow. ‘How old is her daughter?’

  ‘Well into her seventies. She’s just a youngster.’

  ‘Nice to have some people’s genes,’ Jamie commented. ‘Do you think this ulcer’s going to be much of a problem?’

  ‘Hard to tell until we remove the callus,’ Janet said. ‘Her diabetes is quite well controlled but she has diminished pulses and sensation in both feet. I hope the blood supply will be adequate for reasonably fast healing.’

  ‘Might slow her down a wee bit more for a while.’ Jamie was looking amused. ‘I can’t wait to meet her.’

  Janet selected a bottle of hydrogen peroxide from her cupboard. ‘We’re all set. I’ll call you when Constance arrives if you like.’