sheets covering Lisa.
Lisa held them tight. ‘It’s not obligatory, is it? I’m a bit tired now. And I expect you want to get on, in any case.’
‘Of course, Mrs Wildmore.’ Seeing the clenched hands holding back the sheet Rita stopped, her lips pursed. ‘It’s just – ’
‘As I said: Dr Witherton’s been in to see me. He was very happy with everything.’
This was quite true. The GP had called in briefly to see that all was going along well. He’d made no further mention of the fact that the expected single infant had turned into two, and certainly hadn’t suggested to Lisa that he should examine her.
‘I’ll leave all that to Roger. He’s your doctor, after all. He’ll be back tomorrow,’ he’d nodded at Lisa. ‘And I’m afraid I’m leaving for Majorca myself first thing. You’ll begin to think none of us can stay the course.’
And that visit, naturally, had been yesterday. Late in the day, on the doctor’s way home.
Deprived of Lisa, Rita was busying herself checking the new infant. ‘The oddest thing of all is the way the umbilical appears to be at the same stage as that of the other two. I suppose Dr Witherton put on the elastic. Except for that, I can’t tell the difference between him and the others.’ The midwife looked doubtfully at Lisa. ‘Can you?’
Lisa took a deep breath. ‘He’s very gentle,’ she said, love for the baby suffusing through her body. ‘Extraordinary how differences in temperament show at such an early stage.’
Rita snorted as she busied herself assembling the baby bath.
Lisa was astonished at how easily the holidays, and the general confusion, had allowed her to fudge the issues. Rita Connolly herself was off today. Next time a midwife was due to call - that evening or tomorrow morning, Lisa judged - it would be Susan Andrews. And before that visit Lisa would insist Alec get Gilmore over.
‘I know how busy you are,’ Lisa went on. ‘And that you’re due for your summer break. And Friday’s your specially busy day as well, you said. Sorry to hold you up at all.’ Lisa looked at the midwife and pulled her lips back in a travesty of a smile. To her relief it seemed to work.
‘I’m always glad to come when I’m really needed,’ the midwife said quickly, still checking over the infant, clicking surprise. ‘I’ll just see to him.’ She looked faintly embarrassed. ‘I don’t think I’ve got time to bathe the other two as well. They’ll survive a day without, I’m sure. Susan will arrange something for tomorrow.’
‘Of course,’ Lisa agreed smoothly. She was only too relieved. The uncanny similarity to Janus, and that child’s loss of bloating, was better not pursued. Lisa settled back against the pillows. ‘Don’t worry at all. My husband will organise additional help in a minute. He’ll hold the fort until she gets here.’
Alec’s vital meeting in Bristol that morning, with potential Flaxton clients from the States, could be delayed, but hardly cancelled. Doubler had finally passed the stringent Food and Drug Administration laws. Nigel Carruthers, Flaxton’s chief executive, was keen to sign up American distributors, and to alert them to the outstanding test-site performances of Multiplier. Alec, Lisa knew, could not possibly let Flaxton down today. She wondered how they could arrange outside help while Alec was taken up with business.
‘Everything OK for a couple of minutes?’ Alec put his head round the door, acknowledging Rita with a bare nod. ‘D’you think Meg will lend a hand until reserves arrive?’ he checked with Lisa anxiously. ‘I simply have to get these figures straight.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Lisa soothed him. ‘Meg’s always over for Seb as soon as she can get away. She’ll take over.’
Lisa had the feeling of dèja vu, a scene rehearsed and now played out. Meg had offered to take Seb every morning for a couple of weeks after the twins were born. Lisa had accepted gratefully; it made her feel less guilty about not having time for him. Now she’d simply ask Meg to keep him until teatime for a few days. Lisa was sure Meg would be willing to do that.
But there was one thing which nagged at her, one thing she could not shake from her mind however hard she tried. She wanted the triplets - manacled, flashed through her mind - permanently identified. The sticky plaster could come off at any stage.
‘You don’t, by any chance, have any identification bracelets with you, do you?’ she asked the midwife.
‘I do see what