by Michelle Day
“You clever girl,” he whispered in her ear, “I will get you the best possible care, you wont want for anything ever again.” he promised.
“I know.”
Daughter Tessa was born on a hot July day in 1974 after a near perfect pregnancy and a long but pain controlled labour.
Tessa Marie Jensen weighed in at a hefty eight pounds and apart from the occasional grizzle, was a model baby, heart stoppingly adorable having inherited her fathers blond curls and blue eyes and a hint of her mothers’ olive skin.
She began sleeping through the night at just six weeks old leaving Monica free to once again pursue her husband in her quest for a big family.
Michael had wanted to wait at least until Tessa was attending nursery, grumpily admitting that he didn’t really want to share his wife with any more children just yet. Monica pointed out that she kept the house and child spotless, had his meal ready for him when he returned from work and still had more than enough energy to fulfil his healthy sexual appetite and that more babies wouldn’t make a difference, then, soon after Tessa began nursery school she fell pregnant again.
The sickness started almost immediately as well as feeling feint and constantly tired. Jackson and Paula Paloma began to spend a lot of time with their daughter much to Michael’s annoyance as he feared they would interfere. He changed his attitude when his wife unexpectedly collapsed when four months pregnant while making lunch for Tessa, she would have remained that way until he returned home had his in-laws not been there.
Monica woke in a private room of a prestigious Harley Street hospital, wired up to monitors with the anxious faces of her husband and parents peering at her.
“Where’s Tessa?” she asked, struggling to sit up.
“She’s with my parents, you need to lay flat.” Michael answered.
“What happened?”
“You passed out, you have started to bleed, the doctor has put you on complete bed rest in an effort to preserve the pregnancy.” Michael told her, he was tired, it had been almost twenty hours since he had slept, he was sick with worry for his wife and found he simply couldn’t leave her side.
Monica passed her hand over her stomach, feeling the unusually large bump of her early pregnancy “Is the baby ok?”
“You have had an Ultra sound scan, it would appear that you are carrying twins, they both seem fine.” Paula leaned over her daughter.
Monica frowned “Is that why I’m so big, twins?” she paused “I need to see a doctor; I’m not ready for this.”
Moments later, Michael and his in-laws left Monica with her doctor, he explained to her that her twins were not identical but fraternal; each baby had its own placenta. He continued by telling her that the smaller twins’ placenta had detached slightly and there was a possibility, even with complete bed rest, that she would lose that baby, he told her to try not to worry, she must relax as much as she could and that he would monitor her closely and tell her of any changes, good or bad.
Monica stayed on bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. The bleeding stopped and both twins appeared to be developing well. Tessa’s care was taken over by Monica’s parents and they handed over to Michael who had proved himself a loving, caring father, when he returned from his nightly visit to his wife.
Monica’s consultant decided it would not be possible for her to attempt to give birth normally as the smaller twin was in the breach position. Several fruitless attempts had been made to turn the baby but it had stubbornly returned to its preferred position after a matter of only a few hours. A caesarean section was planned and Michael arranged extended leave from work.
Matthew Charles Jensen was born at midday on 17th October 1977, a robust 7lb in weight with light blond hair, his brother, Paul Nicholas Jensen reluctantly entered the world at twelve fifteen on the same day, smaller than the older twin, only weighing 5lb 6oz but giving the appearance of being exceptionally laid back, his breach position in the womb had meant he was born with his legs straight. He had caused the delivering consultant to swear under his breath as he struggled to deliver the second twin, he could have sworn the baby was clinging to its mother’s womb in its struggle to remain within the secure environment. This tiny baby had darker skin than his fair haired brother and a thick mop of dark hair.
Monica felt an instant rush of love for her baby boys once she was allowed to see them, her joy was short lived however when Michael visited her shortly after she had been introduced to her twins.
Looking into the cot nearest to him, Michael smiled when he saw the pale skin and blond hair of the eldest twin, reaching into the cot he picked up the small bundle of baby and held it to his chest. He moved to the other side of Monica’s bed and the second cot, peering over the edge, he breathed in sharply
“What on earth is that?” he asked upon seeing the olive skin and dark hair of the youngest twin.
“That is your son Michael.” Monica answered, a cold edge to her tone.
“Impossible, all Jensen’s are blond haired and fair skinned, there have never been any exceptions.”
“Has it crossed your mind that perhaps he takes after my family?”
Michael ignored the comment and handed the blond bundle to her, he stepped closer to the second cot, reaching in for the baby. As his hand went behind the baby’s head to support it, it let out an ear piercing scream.
“How can something so small make such a racket?” he asked holding the infant at arms’ length.
“Take Matthew and give Paul to me.” Monica spoke above the howls of her son. No sooner was Paul in his mothers’ arms when he stopped screaming, his small mouth searching for her breast “He’s hungry.” she told Michael “Give Matthew a bottle would you?” she gestured to the small bottles of formula milk “I’ll feed Paul.”
“Why should my son have to be fed second rate formula when that runt gets all the goodness of your breast milk?”
“Paul is also your son and as he is the smaller of the two he needs the extra nutrients and protection my milk gives him. Just because he isn’t blond doesn’t make him any less of a Jensen.” she scowled.
“You can sugar coat it all you want Monica, Matthew is my son, you can do what you like with Paul.”
Monica found it hard to believe that her husband would reject his child simply for the colour of his hair but knowing how stubborn and pig headed Michael could be, she knew his opinion wouldn’t change in the slightest unless this child proved himself to be something outstanding, then Michael would welcome him with open arms.
Two weeks after the birth, Monica and her twin boys were allowed home. Michael had returned to work so Paula moved in to help her daughter. During the day everything went swimmingly, both boys were fairly content and were growing well. Tessa was enthralled with her new brothers, spending hours playing with them and whining when it was time for her to nap.
Paula didn’t quite believe her daughter when she told her of Michael’s attitude towards the beautiful dark haired baby. Michael so far had been a wonderful father; it wasn’t until she saw it for herself that she, along with Monica decided that this little boy would need all their love and attention as he clearly wasn’t going to get it from Michael.
When the twins were a little over two months old, Paula returned home. Michael would leave early for work so that he would be home in the early evening to help his wife with the children. The routine was always the same, Michael would come home, put his briefcase in the hall and his keys on the hook by the front door, he would then stroll through to the kitchen where he would inevitably find his wife and offspring. After kissing Monica, he would turn to his daughter and kiss her fondly on the cheek then reach for Matthew and lift him out of the pram he shared with Paul who generally got ignored. Paul didn’t help his own cause by bursting into gusty wails every time Michael got near him.
The years seemed to fly by, before Monica knew it, she was preparing Tessa for Primary School and the boys for nursery. Tessa had developed a sunny personality and w
as eager to please her parents and teachers; she had a few close friends who, unbeknown to her parents, would remain close her entire life.
Matthew and Paul were a handful, always getting into mischief. They had both developed into robust two year olds with a terrible sweet tooth which Monica had to admit she did indulge them with sweets and tempting desserts causing both boys to be slightly rotund. Starting out as the smaller twin didn’t seem to have affected Paul’s development in any way; he was already taller than his brother and far more active.
Matthew, although having developed the blond hair and blue eyes of a typical Jensen, he had the Paloma body shape being fairly short and squat with broad shoulders and a barrel chest, he had also inherited his nose and chin shape from Monica’s family. Paul was the opposite of his sibling possessing the Paloma dark hair, olive skin and deep brown eyes that caused his father to reject him, he had many of the Jensen traits which showed themselves in Paul’s long body and limbs. The straight nose and almond shaped eyes came straight from Michael’s gene pool as did his temper.
Dropping Tessa off to her second day at Primary school, Monica then took her boys around the side of the school to the nursery unit. She had been preparing them for this day and was absolutely dreading it even though the boys were familiar with the nursery building as they had been regular visitors during Tessa’s time there.
Matthew dashed into the nursery playground, always the more outgoing of the two boys, he wasn’t shy and made friends easily, he had been so overwhelmed with the sight of outdoor oversized building blocks that he hadn’t given his mother or brother a second glance before running into the playground and immersing himself in the blocks.
Paul watched his brother from behind Monica’s skirt, he desperately wanted to go and play but was so afraid that his mother would leave he was pinned to the spot with fear.
“Mrs Jensen, we’ve so been looking forward to the boys joining our little group.” Katherine Bates, the senior teacher greeted Monica.
“I’m afraid someone isn’t too keen.” Monica greeted the teacher while stroking her son’s dark hair.
“I’m sure we can persuade him.” she knelt down in front of Paul “Hi Paul, I’m Kat, I have some lovely things for you to do, why don’t you come with me and see what you would like to do.” she smiled into the huge dark brown eyes and wasn’t discouraged when the child simply shook his head and buried himself further into his mothers’ skirt. “Ok, I’ll just have a chat with your Mummy then.” she came to her feet “Has he always been this shy?”
“He’s fine around people he knows, he doesn’t like change or new situations, he lacks confidence.” Monica explained “He will come around, it’s just going to take some time, perhaps I should take him home and try again tomorrow.”
“I really think that would be the worst thing you could do.” Kat replied, she continued to talk to Monica, encouraging her to come into the playground so that the child was surrounded by happy children having oodles of fun in the hope of encouraging him.
From Paul’s point of view, for now, he was quite happy where he was, safely close to his mother but this new lady smelled nice, like Monica did when she had been baking, a smell he would later recognise as Cinnamon. He watched the lady with growing interest as she talked to his mother noticing that she would glance down at him and smile every now and then. He became distracted when a helicopter cruised low overhead and stepped away from Monica’s protection to get a better look. Kat picked up on the boy’s interest immediately and once more came down to his level.
“You like helicopters?” she asked.
Caught unaware and at least three feet away from Monica, Paul initially froze when the teacher spoke to him, his attention was drawn once more to the helicopter as it circled and began another slow pass.
“That’s an Apache helicopter, I have a book on helicopters in the class room if you would like to see it, I bet Mummy would love you to draw her a picture of it.”
Paul looked at Monica who nodded encouragement at her son. He turned back to the teacher, looking at her outstretched hand; he took a hesitant step towards her and placed his small hand in hers.
Kat smiled “I’m so glad you have come to our school, I really need someone to help me with the milk and fruit for the other children, do you think you could be my helper?” she kept up the constant stream of chatter all the way into the classroom while behind her back she was waving goodbye to Monica.
Much to Monica’s surprise, Paul was all smiles when she returned to the nursery at midday to collect her sons,
“Both boys have been an absolute pleasure.” Kat smiled warmly as the Jensen twins ran to their mother, “I think Paul will be just fine and Matthew is such a sociable little thing that I can’t see him ever having any problems.”
“I can’t thank you enough for persuading Paul into school, he’s such a Mummy’s boy that it worries me sometimes.”
“Perhaps he could spend some more time with Mr Jensen?”
“Michael and Paul tend to avoid each other, Michael never did take to him and I probably over compensate for the attention Paul doesn’t get from his father.”
“Is there another male role model Paul could spend time with, a Grandparent perhaps?”
“Yes, he has two doting Grandfathers’; I will have to talk to them about it.”
“I really do think it would do him the world of good. I’ll see you tomorrow Mrs Jensen.”
Monica and the boys stopped to get ice cream on the way home much to the boys delight. Once they arrived home, Matthew pulled out his building bricks while Paul watched cartoons, within half an hour both boys were sound asleep leaving Monica free to have a chat and a coffee with her neighbour who stayed with the boys while Monica went to collect Tessa later that afternoon.
The following weekend the entire family descended on Michael’s parents. Charles and Penelope Jensen were besotted with their three grand children and both had witnessed their son’s rejection of the youngest twin, it troubled them greatly.
“Look at the boy Michael, he’s pure Jensen, he has our nose and eyes and I’ve seen his little temper in full force, I don’t understand why you won’t have anything to do with him.” Charles frowned at his son while bouncing Paul on his lap.
“I don’t understand how you say he’s pure Jensen, look at him, he’s nothing like us.” Michael protested “Plus the little runt hates me, he either screams at me or just stares, he doesn’t interact with me at all.”
“That’s more to do with the negative attitude you project towards him than his attitude towards you, he’s two years old and he hasn’t done anything to deserve this attitude from you.” Charles warned.
“The only thing he has inherited from our family is his temper; everything else is from Monica’s side.”
“He is still the fruit of your loin’s son.”
“You can talk at me about it all you want, I don’t want to know.” Michael insisted.
“The boy needs a male role model Michael and so far you aren’t doing a very good job.”
“Then you take over that role, between you and Jackson he should have all the male role models he needs.” Michael spat then left to join his other two children.
Michael hadn’t been aware that Monica had been listening in on the conversation with Charles; she went to sit by her father in law when Michael left.
“What am I going to do?” she asked Charles.
“You are going to carry on as normal, between myself and your father; we will make sure this little boy has his father figure. I can only apologise for my sons’ bigoted attitude Monica, he certainly wasn’t raised that way” Charles turned the dark haired boy towards him “You are destined for great things young man, I can feel it in my bones.” he smiled at the child who reached out and pulled at his Grand Fathers’ nose.
As the years progressed, the Jensen children each developed their individual personalities. Tessa was a happy sunny girl who loved to help anyone or anything t
hat needed her; she remained charmingly pretty with large, clear blue eyes and long blond hair. Matthew was a bouncy, loud individual, he loved to play football and tennis and when he wasn’t with his brother was more often than not surrounded by friends, his golden halo of hair, steel blue eyes and easy going nature afforded him many female admirers in his teenage years. Paul liked to be at home, he spent a lot of time playing video games and loud, loud music, and he had two very close friends who would follow him through to adulthood. He was a watchful child and would often stand at the side lines summing up the situation while his brother dived straight in. Quietly confident with a sharp wit and intelligence, he became easily bored at school and started to misbehave half way through primary school, he would also lash out if anyone tried to pick on either of his siblings not caring about the consequences at school or home.
By the time Tessa was seventeen and the boys almost fourteen, Paul had been suspended from school three times, his expulsion coming shortly before the summer holidays and the family’s annual pilgrimage to Spain.
Monica and Michael had been called to the school where it was explained to them that Paul was being expelled as he had viciously attacked another boy and broken his nose, when asked why he had done this Paul had remained stoically silent until he saw that Monica had arrived with Michael in tow. Paul had been standing in the corner of the head teachers’ office while the explanation of his expulsion had been explained to his parents.
Monica turned to her son “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Paul took a step towards his mother, he hated upsetting her and could see that she was cross with him “I only hit him once Mum” he shrugged.
“Why did you hit him?”
“He was teasing one of the girls in my class, I told him to leave her alone but he wouldn’t, he was calling her names because she has to wear braces, when I took her hand and tried to pull her away, he grabbed her hair and pulled a big chunk of it out of her head, she started to cry and I just hit him.” he explained.
Monica turned to the Head Teacher, “I trust the other boy will be receiving a similar punishment?”
