Twice as Good

by Alison Roberts

  Mr Collins had been in Jamie’s room for nearly forty-five minutes when Oliver knocked on Janet’s door.

  ‘Have we got any chlorpromazine?’

  ‘I think so.’ Janet stood up from her desk. She raised her eyebrows. It wasn’t a drug they used very often. Chlorpromazine was an antipsychotic that was effective in providing control in a crisis situation. ‘Mr Collins isn’t having delusions, is he? Full symphony orchestras backing up Jamie?’

  Oliver grinned. ‘I’ve just had a call from the manager of the supermarket down the road. May Little is creating a bit of a problem. The manager didn’t know whether to call the police or an ambulance and rang me for advice. I said we’d pop down and have a look.’

  Janet had found the drug in her cupboard. She drew up the required dose into a syringe and capped it firmly, putting it into an envelope with some antiseptic wipes and the empty ampoule.

  ‘We probably won’t need it,’ Oliver said. ‘She might just need to talk to someone who knows her.’

  Jamie was in the front office as Oliver and Janet came out of the treatment room. He looked somewhat dazed.

  ‘That was an unusual experience,’ he murmured. ‘Your Mr Collins is quite a character.’

  ‘It gets better.’ Oliver grinned. ‘We’re just off to the supermarket to see another one.’ His grin faded as he noticed Sophie. She had come out of the side room and was now leaning against the wall, her hand over her eyes.

  ‘What’s wrong, Sophie?’

  ‘I don’t feel good,’ Sophie said unhappily. ‘I think I might be going to faint.’

  Oliver shoved the envelope he was holding towards Jamie. ‘Go with Janet,’ he instructed. ‘I’ll have to look after Sophie.’

  Jamie looked inside the envelope as he climbed into the car beside Janet. ‘Chlorpromazine? What’s all this about?’

  ‘May Little is one of our regular patients.’ Janet changed gear and pulled out onto the road. ‘She’s rather odd and has exhibited paranoid tendencies. She appears to be having some sort of crisis in the local supermarket.’ Janet had her indicator on already. ‘It’s just in here. We were the closest help available.’

  The manager of the small supermarket was waiting by the door. ‘I’m glad to see you,’ he said fervently. ‘I didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘What’s happened exactly?’ Jamie asked.

  They were being led through the produce department at a rapid pace. ‘The lady apparently decided the closed circuit camera was watching her. She became very upset and barricaded herself into a corner with trolleys. Unfortunately, she’s blocking the checkouts and shrieks if anyone touches the trolleys.’ The manager turned sharply into an aisle. A small crowd of people stood at the other end. ‘Now she’s building some kind of a structure with tinned produce. She threw a can of asparagus at me when I tried to talk to her.’

  Jamie nodded. They could see the chaos ahead. May Little was wearing the same hat and thick woollen coat Janet had last seen her in. The clothing was even more inappropriate given the warmth of the summery day today. May was talking aloud to herself and frantically pulling cans from the shelves, piling them into the trolleys parked around her. Bystanders were watching incredulously.

  ‘See if you can move everyone away,’ Jamie told the manager. ‘Being watched isn’t going to help. And call an ambulance. Miss Little is going to need to be admitted to hospital when we get her calm enough to move.’ Jamie stepped forward. ‘Hello, May,’ he called loudly. ‘I’m Dr McFadden. Janet Muir is here, too. You know Janet, don’t you?’

  May didn’t appear to hear Jamie. She scooped up several cans of spaghetti and balanced them carefully on top of an overflowing trolley. Her constant speech was unintelligible. Jamie turned back to look at Janet. ‘What dose of chlorpromazine is in that syringe?’

  ‘One hundred milligrams.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Jamie was watching May again. ‘She’s not a small woman, is she?’

  ‘Stop looking at me!’ May shrieked suddenly, staring at the lens of the security camera. A can of baked beans went wide of its target. Jamie grabbed Janet’s arm and pulled her behind another shopper’s abandoned trolley. He glanced at her.

  ‘I don’t think there’s much hope of talking her out of this. If I get hold of her, do you think you can get an intramuscular injection in?’

  Janet bit her lip. ‘You wouldn’t believe how many layers of clothing she wears. It takes her some time to expose skin and she’s terrified of needles. She thinks they’re after her blood.’

  ‘They?’

  Janet nodded. ‘The same ‘‘they’’ that are watching her right now, I expect.’

  ‘OK.’ Jamie adjusted his crouch, ducking as another can passed overhead. His knee pressed against Janet’s thigh. ‘How about I sit on her and you try and find a site? Arm or leg?’

  Janet almost giggled. ‘I don’t mind. You choose.’

  Jamie’s glance was quick. ‘No—you choose.’

  For a split second Janet forgot the predicament they were in. She could feel the physical contact with Jamie. She could also feel the emotional contact. She still loved this man, she realised with dismay. How could she have ever thought otherwise? She couldn’t begin to wonder what Jamie was thinking. His face had a guarded neutrality that advertised a deliberate distance. Perhaps he’d meant nothing more by the phrase than clarifying their present plan of action. It was the sight of two welcomingly robust ambulance officers advancing up the aisle that broke the moment. Janet blinked.

  ‘A leg’s going to be easiest, I think.’

  With the extra assistance, it was surprisingly easy. The sedating effect of the drug was rapid and the crisis quickly over. May was bundled away for emergency psychiatric assessment. The supermarket manager was wringing his hands as he surveyed the chaos left behind. Janet and Jamie escaped.

  ‘Is it Mondays?’ Jamie queried as they neared Janet’s car. ‘Or is it something about me?’

  Janet laughed. ‘Must be something about you. I’ve never known St David’s patients to behave so dramatically before. It’ll probably be as dull as ditch-water as soon as you’ve gone.’

  Jamie took hold of Janet’s arm. ‘I’m not going anywhere in a hurry,’ he said quietly. He steered Janet away from the car. ‘We need to talk,’ he stated. ‘Let’s find somewhere to sit down for a minute.’

  Janet had no choice but to comply. This had to happen and it may as well be now. At least they had some privacy. Janet shuddered to think how Oliver and Sophie might react when they became aware of the startling link between their practice nurse and the new locum. Jamie chose a park bench behind the supermarket which overlooked the river. A young couple sat on the grass nearby, holding hands. Janet adjusted her position on the bench to leave maximum space between her and Jamie. Jamie also shifted, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. To outward appearances he was enchanted by the view of the river and trees.

  ‘I owe you an apology, Janet.’

  Janet blinked. He was going to apologise? For what? Lying to her? Running off with Sharlene? Having a relationship with Janet in the first place and getting her pregnant?

  ‘I shouldn’t have said some of the things I accused you of on Friday. Our relationship is in the past and whatever reasons we had for a lack of trust are immaterial.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Janet said cautiously. None of it was immaterial now. She still loved him. If anything, it was more significant. If seven and a half years hadn’t been enough to get over the way she felt about Jamie, what hope did she have for the rest of her life? ‘Those reasons are precisely why we are sitting here now having this discussion,’ she added.

  ‘No,’ Jamie said decisively. ‘The reason we’re sitting here now is that we have to discuss what happens in the future. Not the past. That part of our lives is long dead. It’s the consequences that have to be dealt with.’

  Janet felt cold despite the bright sunshine. It wasn’t dead at all. Not for her. It had all just been very effe
ctively, and shockingly, resuscitated.

  ‘I have dealt with the consequences,’ she said flatly. ‘I’ve coped fine until now. The boys are my children.’

  Jamie finally turned his head and Janet could see his cold determination. ‘They’re also my children, Janet. If you want to make an issue about denying that, it would be quite possible to turn this into something nasty. Is that what you want? Legal intervention? DNA testing? Custody battles and access agreements?’

  ‘You wouldn’t do that,’ Janet whispered in horror. ‘Don’t you have any idea how that could affect the boys?’

  ‘Of course I do.’ Jamie’s gaze softened only fractionally. ‘I’m their father, Janet. I have a right to be part of their lives. They have a right to know me.’

  Janet felt her defences crumbling under the gaze. It wasn’t just hostility she could see. Jamie looked uncertain. Hopeful. Even—possibly—a little afraid. Surprisingly, Janet felt more confident. Jamie wanted his sons to accept him. He wanted Janet’s help. She felt her own expression softening, along with a resurgence of the wave of emotion she’d experienced in the supermarket. The boys would love their father. As much as she did.

  ‘I’d like the boys to know you, Jamie,’ Janet said gently. ‘I’d like them to know that you are their father.’

  Jamie didn’t smile. He nodded seriously. ‘Good. We’re agreed, then.’

  ‘Not quite.’ Janet observed the deepening of the tiny lines around Jamie’s eyes as he frowned. ‘I want the boys to get to know you before they learn that you’re their father. I don’t want them told until I think they’re ready.’

  This time there was a long pause before Jamie nodded again. ‘All right,’ he said finally. ‘But I want to get started as soon as possible. I’m only here for six weeks and we’ve wasted one of them already.’

  ‘What do you suggest?’ Janet ran her fingers through her curls as she tried to think. ‘Shall we meet you somewhere? For a pizza or something?’

  ‘No.’ Jamie got to his feet. He checked his watch and smiled wryly. ‘We’d better head back. Goodness knows what emergency is waiting for our attention now. It is still Monday.’ He looked down at Janet, suddenly serious again. ‘I want to meet the boys at home. Invite me to dinner.’

  ‘OK.’ Janet took a quick breath. How long would it take her to try and knock the house into a showpiece of maternal capabilities? ‘What about Wednesday?’

  ‘No,’ Jamie said firmly. ‘Tonight.’

  Janet gulped. ‘You want to come to dinner tonight?’

  ‘Thank you.’ The flash of Jamie’s teeth as he grinned was unexpected. ‘I’d love to accept your invitation.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FATE was finally lending a helping hand.

  The boys couldn’t have chosen a better day to be behaving like angels. They’d gone straight to their bedroom when they’d arrived home, apparently only too keen to follow Janet’s direction that they tidy their room. Janet had thrown herself into a whirlwind of domestic duties. Now the washing was done, the floor vacuumed, the table set and the dinner almost prepared. Adam and Rory had moved to the living room but, surprisingly, not to watch television. They were going to do their homework. If Janet hadn’t been so grateful for the respite from demands for her attention, she would have been more than a little suspicious.

  Now all she wanted was fifteen minutes to have a quick shower and change of clothes before their visitor arrived. Perhaps knowing that the stern Dr McFadden was coming for dinner had been enough to subdue the twins. It had had the opposite effect on Janet. She stood in front on her wardrobe five minutes later, towelling her hair dry and looking at the blue dress she’d made for Oliver’s and Sophie’s wedding. It was the prettiest item of clothing she possessed but Janet was dismayed that she wanted to wear it so badly. How could her feelings towards Jamie have reverted so dramatically? It only made the situation more painful. Jamie wasn’t coming here to see her. He was only interested in the twins.

  Janet shut the wardrobe door and went to her chest of drawers. A clean pair of jeans, a cotton blouse and the dark blue jersey she’d knitted last winter would do. Comfortable, casual and definitely not intended to impress. Jamie wasn’t haunted by any resurgence of past emotional depths and Janet had no intention of letting him know how she felt. He already held far too much power to influence the direction of her future happiness. Pleased with her choice of clothing, Janet ran a wide toothed comb through her curls and triumphantly suppressed the desire to touch up her make up. She ran downstairs just as the doorbell rang.

  Jamie carried a bottle of wine. ‘I couldn’t think what to bring,’ he said apologetically. ‘I wanted to get something for the boys but …’ His words trailed off awkwardly. The appeal in his face was touching. Jamie was understandably apprehensive about meeting his sons. Janet was in control of this situation. She could engineer an uncomfortable encounter that would make it extremely difficult for Jamie to build a relationship with his sons in the short time they had available. Or she could make it easy. Janet’s lips curved into a gentle smile.

  ‘Perfect choice,’ she said, reaching to accept the bottle. ‘Red wine is just what we need to go with the spaghetti Bolognese.’ She caught Jamie’s gaze again. ‘Come through to the living room. They boys are busy doing their homework.’

  The boys were busy, but their project looked nothing like the homework Janet had envisaged. Rory was attacking a cardboard apple carton with his Swiss army knife, hacking a round hole in one end. Adam lay on his stomach, attaching the cardboard centres of toilet rolls together with sticky tape.

  ‘What on earth is going on?’ Janet looked around the room in astonishment. Packaging from teabags, muesli bars, crackers and laundry powder cluttered the carpet. The newspaper which was normally stacked tidily ready for fire lighting requirements was a shredded heap to one side. Several saucers were lined up, one of which was brimming with what looked like rolled oats.

  The boys straightened from their tasks with a speed that advertised guilt. Janet and Jamie found themselves looking down at tousled blond heads and bright little faces struggling to look innocent.

  ‘Adam, Rory. This is …’ Janet hesitated. How should she introduce Jamie? ‘Your father’ was out of the question. ‘Dr McFadden’ seemed ridiculously distant. ‘This is … Jamie,’ she told them. ‘He’s come for tea.’

  ‘Hi, guys,’ Jamie said casually.

  The boys exchanged apprehensive glances. Janet frowned slightly. She knew the signal of brewing trouble. ‘Where did you get all these boxes from?’ she demanded.

  ‘The pantry,’ Adam confessed.

  Janet’s frown deepened. ‘And what have you done with all the things that were inside the boxes?’

  ‘They’re still in the pantry,’ Rory said virtuously. ‘Don’t worry, Mum.’

  ‘Except for the soap powder,’ Adam added. ‘We put that in the bucket.’

  Janet wasn’t really listening. She was staring at Rory with an expression of dawning horror. The boys were sitting very still. Unnaturally immobile. Rory’s jersey, however, was moving. A lump travelled from one shoulder towards the neckband. A pointed, whiskery nose appeared, followed by beady black eyes.

  ‘What,’ Janet enunciated very clearly, ‘is that?’

  Adam and Rory looked at each other. Adam watched the creature emerging from Rory’s clothing and giggled nervously.

  ‘It’s a baby rat, Mum,’ Rory said eagerly. ‘Would you like to hold him?’

  Jamie had an expectant grin on his face. His eyebrows were raised to maximum level, clearly anticipating a reaction from Janet that would involve her leaping onto the highest piece of furniture available, accompanied by a piercing vocal protest. Janet held out her hand calmly.

  ‘You can hold mine, too,’ Adam offered generously. ‘When I get him out of my sleeve.’ He shoved his hand down the neck of his own jersey.

  Janet shook her head. ‘One at a time, thanks.’ She inspected the tiny black and white animal sitting
on the palm of her hand. ‘Very cute,’ she acknowledged, ‘but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to have one of Ben’s rat’s babies.’

  ‘He gave us two,’ Rory said appreciatively. ‘He said they were twins—like us.’

  Adam was eyeing Jamie. ‘Would you like to hold my rat?’ The challenge was subtle but unmistakable.

  ‘Sure.’ Jamie extended his hand. The rat took a running leap from Adam’s hands, scampered up Jamie’s arm and disappeared behind his collar. Jamie laughed.

  ‘Tickles, doesn’t it?’ Adam was grinning happily.

  ‘We’re building them a maze,’ Rory told Janet excitedly. ‘With doors and tunnels. We’re got all their food ready. See?’ He pointed to the saucers. ‘And we’ve made a bed out of newspapers.’

  ‘Can we keep them, Mum?’ Adam pleaded. ‘We’ll look after them. Please?’

  Janet tickled the little rat in her hands. It sat up on its haunches, catching her finger with tiny front paws. Jamie was still tying to locate its sibling.

  ‘Please, Mum,’ the twins chorused.

  Janet tilted her head. ‘What do you think, Jamie?’

  Jamie hauled his visitor from behind his shoulder by the tail. He looked questioningly at Janet and then at the desperately eager expressions of the boys.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said carefully. ‘Do you think you can look after them?’

  Adam and Rory nodded vigorously.

  ‘Do you think it’s going to make extra work for your mum?’ Jamie’s glance at the mess on the floor was pointed.

  ‘We’re going to tidy it all up,’ Rory promised. ‘We’ll only get the boxes out when we want to play with them.’

  ‘Have you got somewhere to keep them where they won’t escape?’

  ‘We’ve got the hutch the guinea pig had.’ Adam nodded as he spoke. ‘We’re going to put the newspaper in there to keep them warm.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Jamie appeared reluctantly impressed. He smiled at Janet. ‘What do you think, Janet?’

  ‘I think it’s time for dinner.’ Janet handed the rat back to Rory. ‘Let’s see how well you tidy up after you put the rats away, and we’ll talk about it again later.’