Post by Jack Trove on Jul 14, 2008 18:17:16 GMT
5.00 pm, Saturday evening
They were like something out of ‘The Sound of Music’.
The three children stood (okay, the baby was in a pram, but still) in an abnormally still, perfect line; eyes wide, lips stretched into fake smiles, and evil oozing out of their every pore as each pondered the most effective method of destroying their latest ‘nanny’. Unfortunately, in this case, this meant they were pondering the most effective method of destroying Jack, and his unfortunate helper, Jonas.
“Aw, Izzy! Y’all just get cuter every day!”
“Y’all know it,” Isabella replied in a thick, London accent; displaying her missing front teeth in a grin.
“You too, Lil’ Jack,” Miranda chuckled, ruffling the four year old’s dark crop of curls.
He wrinkled his nose. “I ain’t cute!” That accent was just as thick as his sister’s. “I’m scary.”
“Big Jack over there sure looks scared,” Miranda jerked her thumb back at Jack, who leaned against the frame of the front door. Jonas hovered behind him, spluttering and squawking like a choking puffin. Jack was doing his best to ignore him.
Lil’ Jack tilted his head sideways curiously, studying his new babysitter. After a moment or so, he raised a pudgy hand and swept it forwards like a claw.
“Rawr.”
‘Big’ Jack didn’t trust himself to respond.
Carl the baby was fretting, and because of this, so was Kelly, his mother. Muttering darkly, she unbuckled him from his buggy, heaving him upwards to rest on her hip. He clung, a fat, brown monkey, very nearly overbalancing his mother as she turned.
Carl- despite his age- was a beast. He was solidly built; with chunky arms, chunky legs, and a distinct double chin, which he was dribbling all over. He had a few wisps of smoky black hair, which flamed upwards in all directions. His large, dark eyes seemed to pop out of his skull, which not only helped the overall monkey appearance but also made him look like he had some form of Mad Monkey Disease.
But somehow, Kelly and Miranda were besotted.
“Oh, you poor, poor thing,” Miranda hovered fretfully over Carl and his mother. “Oh, hush, pet, c’mon-”
“Come on, baby,” Kelly cooed, rocking him. “It’s alright, Carl. Mommy and Aunty Miranda are going out for a while, but we’ll be back a’fore you know it-”
Carl wailed piteously, milking it for all he was worth.
“Oh, sir, I told you this wasn’t a good idea-”
“Shut up, Jonas!” Jack hissed. “This is fine. This is good.”
“I can make myself cry, y’know.”
Jack looked downwards to see Isabella staring boldly back, her jaw set.
“I’ll do it, too. Then Mom won’t leave us here with you.”
‘Mommy’ sounded wrong in an English accent.
Jack scowled. “You wouldn’t.”
Her dark eyes flashed. “Wanna bet?”
Isabella was tall- obviously so for her age; with sharp features and wiry, dark hair which separated into bushes that Jack was forced to presume were meant to be pigtails. She wore an orange T-shirt which clashed horribly with her brown skin- a shade lighter than both her brothers- and wore oddly shiny, white trousers. Perhaps, when she flashed that gummy smile, Isabella could look cute in a scary, 7 year old way. But Isabella did not smile, oh no. She emanated waves of resentment, and from the way Lil’ Jack toddled to her side and mimicked her hands-on-hips stance, it was obvious she was the ringleader of the little clan of junior Von Trapps.
“Yeah, wan’ bet?” Lil’ Jack echoed loyally.
She nudged him in annoyance. “Y’all can’t make yourself cry.”
“Can so!”
“No you can’t. You’re talkin’ bullnuts.”
“Ain’t so!”
“Bullnuts! Bullnuts, bullnuts, bull-”
“Izzy!” Her mother glared at Jack as if it was all his fault her precious devil child was swearing. “I’d like it if you told her off when she uses that sort of language.”
“I-”
“Okay, Carl,” Kelly smiled back at her baby, whose cries had now subsided into hiccups. “Y’all need to stay here with him…” She looked up expectantly.
Jack blinked. “What?”
“Well, Jack?” Miranda looked at him in anticipation. “Come and take the baby.”
The human sausage fixed a bleary eye on him.
“Oh, Mom!” Apparently, it was time for Isabella to make her entrance. She thrust herself into the limelight. “Oh, why? Why? Why? Why do you have to go and leave us… with him?”
“With ‘im!” Lil’ Jack echoed feebly.
“He’ll be boring, Mom! He’ll lock us up! We won’t be allowed to play!”
“No play; no play!”
“Why can’t Aaron look after us instead-?”
“He’s in South Africa visiting family. You know that.”
“Aaron! Aaron!” Lil’ Jack thrust his pudgy fists in the air mournfully.
“Take the baby, Jack.” It was Miranda who spoke, beckoning him forwards.
“Oh… right.” Jack dodged around Isabella and rescued the struggling hotdog from his mother’s arms.
“WHAT ABOUT MY SEPRATION ISOES?”
“Shoes! Shoes!”
“Izzy.”
One word- just one word from their aunt, and both children fell silent. Miranda towered before them, legs spread, and eyes narrowed. Jack saw them gulp, and he couldn’t blame them. If Miranda ever looked at him like that he’d run half a mile in the other direction.
“I’d like y’all to apologize to your mom.”
The girl fidgeted wildly; looking up at Kelly with an upturned nose.
“Izzy.”
“Sorry, Mom.”
Kelly forced a smile. “Thank you, dear.”
Miranda rounded on Lil’ Jack. “You too, Junior. Say it.”
There was no hesitation. “Sorry, Mommy.”
“Y’all better behave yourselves,” Miranda said lightly. “Big Jack here is a good friend of mine, and y’all will have lots of fun. But if I hear anything…”
“We’ll be good,” groaned Isabella, rolling her eyes.
Kelly looked at Jack worriedly, as the fat chunk of lard dribbled down his T-shirt. “Y’all… er… sure you can do this?”
Kelly was smaller than her sister, around 5ft 8, and had a roundness to her abdomen that was obviously attributed to childbirth. Her face was more circular, her hair was short and smooth, but she had the same crinkles of laughter around her eyes, the same lips and the same high cheekbones. The sisters were equally attractive, and Jack felt his heart melt in a familiar way at the pleading note in her voice.
“Of course,” he said confidently, clutching the hiccupping Carl closer. Carl, at least, seemed to have completely forgotten his mother. He seemed fascinated by the fact that Jack’s flat chest didn’t provide much of a pillow.
Kelly smiled, real relief crinkling around her eyes as she watched the baby gurgle curiously to itself. “Alright. Thank you.”
As the two sisters turned to leave, Miranda gave Jack the thumbs-up. Oddly smug with himself, he returned it, and entered his home, where Isabella and Jack now stood uncertainly. Looking at the three children, thinking of their aunt and mother, Jack couldn’t help but wonder how such good genes had produced such wicked little creatures.
6.30 pm
Lil’ Jack may not be all that little for his age, but it was obvious how he’d gotten the nickname. Against his sister, he looked like a total runt; the top of his head just about brushing past her hip. He had tightly curling locks, wacky big eyes and much softer, more delicate features than his sister. He wore a ‘Galactik Football’ (yeah, what the hell?) T-shirt and had perfectly shaped almond fingernails; but the fingers themselves were chewed to bits. He was missing a front tooth along the bottom row, because- he’d cheerfully told Jack over a bowl of ice cream- it’d turned black from too much sugar, and had had to be pulled.
Sharing a first name with his new babysitter had caused Lil’ Jack to take a shine to his fellow Jack. Upon the discovery within the Trove gardens of a football- “I can be Jock!”- Lil’s Jack had insisted on re-enacting a scene from his favourite show.
“It’s very diff-cult to un’stand,” Lil’ Jack told him knowledgably. “Y’all need to watch real close, and the orange guy’s called Jock, and he’s my best one, ‘cause-”
“He’s your favourite one,” Isabella butted in, picking up the muddy ball from the ground.
Lil’ Jack nodded eagerly. “Yeah. He’s my favbrit-”
“Fa-vour-ite.”
“Favourbrit-”
“Favourite!”
“I says that, di’n’t I, Big Jack?”
“The important thing is,” Jack replied, laughing, “that you were very, very close.”
Isabella snorted. She was going out of her way to be a lot more difficult than her brothers.
Carl had been easy. Despite his initial doubts, Jonas had really taken to the baby, and Carl, after deeming Jack’s flat chest an unworthy cushion, found Jonas’ soft flab a suitable replacement. Jonas was nearing 65, was completely out of shape, had grey hair and round little glasses which constantly sat on the tip of his nose. Now that old Mrs Taylor was gone, he was the longest standing member of the Trove household staff. Because of this, although Jonas was only the security guy, he still exercised a certain amount of authority over the other staff; including Miranda, though technically, as housekeeper, she was his boss.
Despite her brothers’ delight in the hands of Jonas and Jack, Isabella was so far unimpressed. She’d quickly hid her initial awe at the size of the Trove mansion behind a scowl, and pretended she wasn’t following the Jacks’ conversation, but her frequent inputs gave her away. She’d eaten the earlier ice creams in silence, but Jack hadn’t missed the wonder in her eyes each time a spoonful entered her mouth.
The cook had made it, and hell, it was good ice cream.
“Close,” echoed Lil’ Jack, evidently pleased. “I was close.”
“Perhaps,” Jack knelt, coming down to their level and giving Isabella a welcoming smile, “we should let Izzy choose our next game.”
Lil’ Jack’s jaw dropped in horror. “But she don’t like ‘Galactik Football’!”
Funny how well he was able to pronounce the complex name of that particular programme.
“Don’t call me, ‘Izzy’,” Isabella ordered Jack testily. “Only Mom, Dad, Aunty Miranda, my brothers and Aaron are allowed to do that.”
“Alright, Isabella,” he forced out the poisonous name through gritted teeth, “what will we play?”
“No, Big Jack!” Lil’ Jack squealed desperately, “y’all don’t know what she’s gon’ do-”
“It can’t be that bad,” Jack told him, but neither Jack believed it.
They were proved correct.
“Mommies and Daddies.”
Both Jacks flinched at the sound of the dreaded girly game.
Isabella’s eyes sparkled maliciously. “And I’m the Mommy. Jack’s the Daddy. And Lil’ Jack’s the baby.”
“Make Carl be Baby.”
“Carl’s already a baby, so then we wouldn’t be playing pretend, would we?” she cackled. “So, you’re the baby.”
Lil’ Jack’s sense of manhood was wilting, and Big Jack knew, for his little counterpart’s sake, he had to intervene.
“No, you’re not a baby,” Jack said forcefully, “you’re our kid… but let’s say… you’re not a baby. You’re a teenager.”
“A teemager?” Lil’ Jack’s eyes misted with wonder. “Like y’all?”
Isabella folded her arms. “I want him to be Baby!”
“Jeez, you’re lucky I married you,” Jack shot back, “so pipe down. Anyway, if he’s a teenager, you get to tell him off more.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How?”
“Well,” Jack clapped his hand on the 4 year old’s shoulder, “Lil’ Jack here can be 16, driving a motorcycle- y’know, … badass.”
“Badass…” Lil’ Jack spoke carefully, the two syllables trembling slightly in his excitement. It was obvious he had no clue what on earth it meant.
“Ass is a swearword,” Isabella told her brother crossly.
“Er,” Jack cursed inwardly, realising his mistake. “No, no, it’s not. It means… donkey.”
Isabella rounded on him. “It means butt.”
“It can mean both, okay?” he cried, exasperated. “Anyway-”
“Y’all calling my brother a donkey, a butt, or both?”
“Neither!” Why did she have to be so difficult? “Lots of teenagers are badass- it’s a good word- it means you’re tough.”
“Tuff,” Lil’ Jack repeated. “Yeah. I’m badass.”
“You ain’t tough-” she was cut off in mid-sentence as Jack clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Yeah, mate, you’re dead tough,” Jack told his tiny friend. “You wear… black all the time, drive a motorcycle, you smoke, and get all the girls-”
“Get ‘em?” For the first time, Lil’ Jack looked confused. “But… but Mom says I ain’t s’posed to hit lay-dees.”
“Er, no, that’s not quite what I mean.” Isabella’s sharp teeth dug into the soft flesh of his finger, and he was forced to let go. “I meant you get a lot of girlfriends. And Isabella, I swear to God, if you bite me again, we’re getting a divorce.”
“Don’t swear!” she scolded. “Y’all are a bad influence.”
Aw, nuts.
Jack didn’t like to think what Miranda would do to him if she heard her dear little niece badmouthing him. He couldn’t allow himself to disappoint her. Thinking quickly, Jack swivelled on his knees to face her. He had never failed to win a girl’s heart with the smile he now gave Isabella, and he was determined she would be no exception.
“Darling,” he said softly, “we shouldn’t be wasting our time arguing like this; not with our son running wild like he is.”
“What?”
“Look at him!” He grabbed her by the elbow and spun her to face Lil’ Jack, who was currently investigating the contents of his left nostril. “He’s out of control! Going out late, joy-riding, getting in trouble with the police.”
“Y’all mean the cops.”
“We live in England,” Jack gritted his teeth, “Isabella, darling.”
“Nope,” a sudden, unexpected grin stretched her features. “We live on a lil’ unicorn ranch in Texas. Young man!” She took a step towards her brother, who snapped to attention at once. “Straighten up and fly right, or you’re gonna be grounded for a lifetime!”
Lil’ Jack blinked, then, immediately, his shoulders dropped, his jacket was zipped and his hood pulled up, shielding his eyes. He swaggered before his ‘parents’.
“Make me.”
His ‘mother’ leaned forward, and in one long, smooth stroke, she clipped him around the ears. Her voice was a spiteful snarl. “Show some respect, you insolent boy.”
“Never.” With a banshee-like battle cry, Lil’ Jack jumped up and punched the air. “I’m running away!”
Jack, who’d been watching the show with a slightly detached fascination, leaped to his feet. “Where?” he demanded of his ‘son’. “You’ve got nowhere to go, and no-one to run to!”
“I’ll find a way-” the little freedom fighter responded. “Me and… Tia gon’ go live in Hollywood. We’s gon’ be stars!”
“You’ll never make it!”
“Don’t be a fool, boy.”
“THIS IS FOR Y’ALL, TIA!” Lil’ Jack screamed skywards, and- he ran for it.
Isabella turned to Jack; her eyes suddenly alight with the thrill of the chase. “We’ve got to catch him! You go that way; I’ll head round behind the bushes. He will not get away with this!”
Jack nodded dumbly, amazed that this ‘Mommies and Daddies’ lark had actually worked, and jogged off in the direction his ‘wife’ had pointed him.
8.30 pm
That had to be one of the most intense games of ‘Mommies and Daddies’ Jack had ever played. Jack had caught his ‘son’ and after a brief wrestle, Isabella had locked Lil’ Jack in his ‘room’ (i.e. made him stand for 5 minutes beside a tree) before the little rebel had found a ‘gun’ (a twig) and broken out of the house. Then he’d hopped on one of the unicorns and flown all the way to ‘Miami’ (the patio) where Isabella found him and told him Tia was dead. Jack, in the meantime, lost his job, became estranged from the family, and went crazy- wandering the streets and trying to eat babies- that was, until Jonas objected to Carl’s part in the game, and Jack had to settle for a healthy meal of grass instead. After a freak circus accident, a liaison with a prince for Isabella and a trek through the Sahara, ‘mother’ and ‘son’ killed Jack, took all his money and started a new life together, running a chocolate and Coca-Cola plantation.
At this point, the children had realised they were tired, so a relieved Jack had picked up one in each arm, and carried them inside.
“Y’all must be real strong, Big Jack,” Lil’ Jack said softly, as Jack set them down on the couch.
“I am,” Jack told them, “I’ve got super strength.”
“He’s lying,” Isabella told her brother. “Only Superman’s got super strength.”
Jack chuckled. “No, really, I do. It’s one of my powers.”
Isabella rolled her eyes. “Only stoodents of Orchid Hill had magical powers.”
Jack smirked. “Hmm, that so? Well-”
“Oh, wow! Is that a TV?”
Lil’ Jack teetered on the tips of his toes, yet the top of his head still didn’t manage to make it halfway up the screen. His chubby hands spread across it, leaving sticky fingerprints all along the bottom.
“Er… yeah,” Jack picked up the remote. “I dunno if we’ve got any kid DVDs… Oh, hey! I know! Have you guys ever seen the Matrix?”
It was one of the only movies he could think of off the top of his head that didn’t have any sex scenes.
They shook their heads.
“Awesome,” Jack left them to their own devices as he hopped out and down the hall, going to fetch the DVD from his room.
Along the stairs, he met Jonas. The chubby security guy jumped sky high at the sight of Jack.
“Oh my goodness, sir, you scared-”
“Where’s Carl?”
Jonas coughed. “Well, y’know, I didn’t know where else to put him... so I, er, left him in your room. He’s asleep, see, but here’s the baby monitor, here-” he shoved it clumsily at Jack, “so you’ll know if something’s wrong-”
“Jonas,” Jack interrupted, grinning. “Calm down, okay? You can go home now. You’ve done well.”
A mixture of surprise and relief crossed Jonas’ face. “I- you- really?”
“Yes,” Jack clapped him on the back, “I’ll make sure your paycheque reflects that, don’t you worry.”
Jonas’ face shone with gratitude. “Thank you, sir. My wife will like that… sir.”
Jack regarded him with a sudden curiosity. He’d never heard Jonas mention anything of his home life before… and frankly, Jack had never thought to ask. Jonas was just another person who turned up everyday to do a job. The years had piled on the weight, and had discoloured his once auburn hair, but besides for that, Jack had never really noticed him… or any of the others, for that matter.
Only the housekeeper- first in the form of Old Mrs Taylor, and then in the lovely shape of Miranda- had ever made any real impact in Jack’s life, and that was simply because the housekeeper lived… well… in the house.
“Have you… got any kids, Jonas?” Jack asked, leading him down to the front door.
“Yeah,” Jonas’ chest suddenly puffed out proudly. “Just the one- my daughter, Abigail. She’s about 28, now, and… she’s just given birth to our first grandchild.”
“Wow!” Jack was astounded. He’d never even heard of Abigail before. “That’s… that’s great! Congratulations!”
“Thank you, sir.”
“No, really,” Jack shook Jonas’ hand enthusiastically. “I mean it.”
Jonas’ cheeks turned a sort of rust colour. “G- good night, sir. It’s been a pleasure.”
“Ditto!” called Jack after him. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
“It’s a Sunday, sir.”
“Oh…” Jack chuckled, “well, ‘til Monday, then!”
The aging grandfather raised a hand in farewell as he climbed into an elderly looking blue Cleo. Jack closed the door, checked the baby monitor was definitely working, and went off in search of ‘The Matrix’.
When Jack finally returned to the lounge, Lil’ Jack sat gaping at a Spongebob Squarepants at least three times his height. Although he was completely immersed in the land of pineapples and Krabby Patties, his sister sat on a separate, further back couch, regarding her surroundings cautiously. Frowning, Jack came to sit beside her.
“What’s up, Isabella?”
She bit her lip. “Nothin’.”
He set down the dusty DVD on the arm of the sofa. “Cut the crap.”
His reward was a nasty blow to the back of his head.
“Y’all know I don’t like swearing, Jack!”
He was reminded forcibly of Miranda. The resemblance between aunt and niece was suddenly striking.
He bowed his head apologetically. “Sorry.” Then, gently, he shoved her off the settee. Outraged at this act of defiance, the girl leaped to her feet; her eyes a pair of black slits.
“How dare-”
“You know I don’t like lying, Isabella.”
Her mouth snapped shut and her head dropped. There was a short pause, over which the ever-exuberant Spongebob insisted, “I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready-”
“Izzy.”
“What?” Jack turned his head away from the screen.
The two bushy pigtails bounced as she threw her head back. “Call me Izzy, sir.”
“Sir?” Jack spluttered in amazement at her sudden change in attitude. “Why are you calling me that?”
“Well,” she shifted from one white sock to the other, “I ‘pect I should ‘cause you’re rich, and, well… I ain’t.”
A wave of shock chilled his heart. He sank off the sofa to the his knees, and found himself clutching the 7 year old’s shoulders.
“Izzy… I’m not rich.”
“Sure you are,” she half-laughed. “Mom said so to Aunty Miranda. She was… sad, I think. So that’s why I didn’t like you at first- I thought you’d have to be a right mean old snob to make Mom sad. But… you’re not. Y’all are… nice.”
“No.” Jack didn’t know why… but somehow, it was vastly important she understood this. “My dad’s… well, he’s rich. I’m only rich ‘cause my dad is. I just got lucky. I didn’t, y’know, earn anything. I was born rich- but I could’ve just as easily been born in the estates with you.”
“But… you’re not.”
“I just got lucky,” he repeated firmly. “Just call me Jack, ‘cause that’s all I am. I’m no better than you, Lil’ Jack, Carl or anyone else. I’m just Jack. Not sir. Jack. Okay?”
She graced him with her gummy grin. “Big Jack.”
He chuckled. “Big Jack.”
“Oi!” Lil’ Jack leaped out of nowhere, and crashed wildly into Jack’s chest, knocking them both back. “C’mon! I wanna watch ‘The Matriss’!”
“Alright, alright,” Jack hopped back on the couch, settling the excitable 4 year old on his lap. He winked at Izzy. “Will you do the honours?”
She picked up the remote, and pressed the DVD button. As the screen flashed blue, there was a simultaneous, “Oooh,” from the two children. The disc drive rolled out automatically, and Jack clapped once, causing the lights to flicker off.
“Okay, Izzy; you put the DVD in.”
With a trembling hand, she removed the disc and slotted it in. Cackling with delight as the blue screen whirred to life she scrambled back across the room and snuggled up quick to Jack.
“Hey, Big Jack?” came Lil’ Jack’s voice from somewhere around his waist. “Is this ‘Matriss’… scary?”
“Oh, very,” Jack told him, “but I think you two are brave enough to handle it.”
“I’m brave,” the boy replied firmly, “but… er… well, y’all can protect us, just in case of something… bad.”
“I will,” Jack laughed as Izzy leaned forward to take the remote and press, ‘Play’. “Don’t worry. I will…”
11.45 pm
Carl was still fast asleep when Jack carried the two others up to his room. Izzy and Lil’ Jack had thoroughly enjoyed ‘The Matrix’, even though they’d talked the whole way through it, hadn’t followed the plot, and had kept pausing it to go get ice cream. Izzy wanted to marry Neo, and Lil’ Jack wanted to be just like Morpheus. As for Jack, it was the most fun he’d had watching a movie… well, ever.
The moment Isabella’s head met the mattress beside her baby brother, she was out for the night. Only Lil’ Jack remained, fighting and failing against the onslaught of the Sandman.
“C’mon, mate,” Jack sighed, pushing him down. “Your aunt’s gonna murder me. You’re already up far too late.”
“I’m not,” a yawn ruptured his sentence, “tired…”
Jack smirked. “Uh huh.”
“Big Jack?” The kid’s eyelids slipped a fraction. “Have y’all really got Super Dooper Strength?”
“Yep.”
“Are you magic?”
“Yep.”
“Do you go to Or… Orcad Hill?”
“Yep.”
“Well, what’s sorts powers you got, ‘sides from strength?”
Jack held up three fingers. “Super strength.” One finger went down. “Fire control.” A second fell. “And I can pull knives out of my flesh.” His fist furled.
“Wow.”
“Yep,” Jack chuckled.
“Think maybe I’ve got powers.”
“Do you?”
“Uh… huh. I spit really far. Mommy says it’s a real nasty ‘abit. I got venom innit, she says.”
“Wow.”
“Think maybe I could go to Orcad?”
“Wait a few more years,” he replied, getting to his feet.
Lil’ Jack rolled over, entangling himself in an embrace with his siblings. ‘Big’ Jack smiled in relief, and switched off the lights.
It was around half an hour later when Jack heard a light, but persistent knocking at the door. Jack- who’d been lazing around with his iPod in one ear and the baby monitor in the other- jumped into action and threw open the front door to welcome the sisters.
They fell through the door, the rise and fall of their badly suppressed laughter chiming like bells in Jack’s ears. He guided the slightly tipsy pair into the kitchen, where he was regaled with a slurred account of the night’s antics. They’d gone out for a meal at some upmarket place, before throwing caution to the wind and going out clubbing; something neither had done since they were teenagers, when Isabella was still just a baby.
“Speaking of which,” Kelly staggered to her feet, rubbing her eyes blearily, “how were they?”
“They’ve been great, but they’re fast asleep, now,” he replied, a touch of pride decorating his tone.
Kelly looked a little dumbfounded. “No complaints? No tantrums? No trouble?”
“Nope. They’ve been fantastic.” Isabella’s earlier moody disposition had completely erased itself from his memory.
Kelly ran her hands through her cropped hair. “R… really?”
“Yep.”
She laughed softly. “Wow. That’s amazing. Jack… I hadn’t… I suppose I hadn’t really thought you could do it,” she bobbed her head apologetically, “I dunno, I guess you didn’t seem the type.”
He blinked. “The type?”
She shrugged. “Just… you looked like the kind of guy who didn’t really… have much time for kids.”
“Told you he’d be good,” Miranda said smugly.
Jack smiled gratefully at her.
“They’ll be a nightmare to get home,” Kelly groaned. “Gosh… they won’t want to leave now.”
“Then don’t make them!”
The two women looked at him in shock. Jack, already glowing with the triumph the success of the night had brought him, had just stumbled across another one of his fantastic ideas; an idea that would- hopefully- earn him another slice of Miranda’s gratitude.
“It’s late,” he said, his voice reasonable, but inside he was buzzing with excitement. “You’ll never be able to settle them if you wake them up; but you can stay here. You could sleep in one of our guest rooms, or with Miranda-”
“But, Jack,” Miranda was obviously intrigued, “where are you gonna sleep if they’re in your room?”
“There’s more than one guestroom,” he reminded her. “I’ll be grand.”
Kelly looked stunned. “I… really? Are y’all sure, ‘cause I mean, it’s not necessary…”
“I know,” Jack laughed, “but you’re tired, and so are your kids. It’s the least I can do.”
Kelly glanced nervously at Miranda; completely confused by Jack’s willingness to help. Her sister simply smiled broadly, and Kelly encouraged, looked back at Jack and smiled too.
“I just… thank you. No-one’s ever… well, thank you!”
Jack loved the buzz her obvious appreciation gave him, and he loved that he had won it by doing something so simple- something which, actually, made him happy too. He was kinda… starting to like the Von Trapps. Sometimes, they weren’t all that bad.
Jack excused himself a while later, and headed upstairs to get ready to hit the sack. Halfway up, he heard a sudden call behind him.
“Jack!”
In the shadow of the hall, he could barely see Miranda coming up the stairs behind him, but the glint of her teeth was unmistakable. She stopped a step beneath him, looking up.
“Thanks, Jack. Kelly… well, she needed this.”
“I told you guys, it’s the least I can-”
Jack was cut off mid-sentence as she hopped up and kissed him on the cheek.
“Y’all are great, kid,” she said warmly. “I’m gonna be lonely as hell when you go back to that school of yours.”
Jack nodded dizzily, and watched her retreat downstairs. It was a while before he remembered where he was, and what he was supposed to be doing.
1.35 am, Sunday morning
With sleep evading him, Jack had given up and turned on his iPod instead. He had it up so loud, it was a while before he realised there were voices talking in the next room- Mal’s room. One was Mal’s rough grunt; the other was female, but it was so faint, he could barely hear it. But their tones were unmistakable. Both were low- and excited.
Jack groaned and turned up his iPod as loud as he could stand, as the bed in the room beside him began to creak; doing his best to ignore the sickening twist in his stomach.
They were like something out of ‘The Sound of Music’.
The three children stood (okay, the baby was in a pram, but still) in an abnormally still, perfect line; eyes wide, lips stretched into fake smiles, and evil oozing out of their every pore as each pondered the most effective method of destroying their latest ‘nanny’. Unfortunately, in this case, this meant they were pondering the most effective method of destroying Jack, and his unfortunate helper, Jonas.
“Aw, Izzy! Y’all just get cuter every day!”
“Y’all know it,” Isabella replied in a thick, London accent; displaying her missing front teeth in a grin.
“You too, Lil’ Jack,” Miranda chuckled, ruffling the four year old’s dark crop of curls.
He wrinkled his nose. “I ain’t cute!” That accent was just as thick as his sister’s. “I’m scary.”
“Big Jack over there sure looks scared,” Miranda jerked her thumb back at Jack, who leaned against the frame of the front door. Jonas hovered behind him, spluttering and squawking like a choking puffin. Jack was doing his best to ignore him.
Lil’ Jack tilted his head sideways curiously, studying his new babysitter. After a moment or so, he raised a pudgy hand and swept it forwards like a claw.
“Rawr.”
‘Big’ Jack didn’t trust himself to respond.
Carl the baby was fretting, and because of this, so was Kelly, his mother. Muttering darkly, she unbuckled him from his buggy, heaving him upwards to rest on her hip. He clung, a fat, brown monkey, very nearly overbalancing his mother as she turned.
Carl- despite his age- was a beast. He was solidly built; with chunky arms, chunky legs, and a distinct double chin, which he was dribbling all over. He had a few wisps of smoky black hair, which flamed upwards in all directions. His large, dark eyes seemed to pop out of his skull, which not only helped the overall monkey appearance but also made him look like he had some form of Mad Monkey Disease.
But somehow, Kelly and Miranda were besotted.
“Oh, you poor, poor thing,” Miranda hovered fretfully over Carl and his mother. “Oh, hush, pet, c’mon-”
“Come on, baby,” Kelly cooed, rocking him. “It’s alright, Carl. Mommy and Aunty Miranda are going out for a while, but we’ll be back a’fore you know it-”
Carl wailed piteously, milking it for all he was worth.
“Oh, sir, I told you this wasn’t a good idea-”
“Shut up, Jonas!” Jack hissed. “This is fine. This is good.”
“I can make myself cry, y’know.”
Jack looked downwards to see Isabella staring boldly back, her jaw set.
“I’ll do it, too. Then Mom won’t leave us here with you.”
‘Mommy’ sounded wrong in an English accent.
Jack scowled. “You wouldn’t.”
Her dark eyes flashed. “Wanna bet?”
Isabella was tall- obviously so for her age; with sharp features and wiry, dark hair which separated into bushes that Jack was forced to presume were meant to be pigtails. She wore an orange T-shirt which clashed horribly with her brown skin- a shade lighter than both her brothers- and wore oddly shiny, white trousers. Perhaps, when she flashed that gummy smile, Isabella could look cute in a scary, 7 year old way. But Isabella did not smile, oh no. She emanated waves of resentment, and from the way Lil’ Jack toddled to her side and mimicked her hands-on-hips stance, it was obvious she was the ringleader of the little clan of junior Von Trapps.
“Yeah, wan’ bet?” Lil’ Jack echoed loyally.
She nudged him in annoyance. “Y’all can’t make yourself cry.”
“Can so!”
“No you can’t. You’re talkin’ bullnuts.”
“Ain’t so!”
“Bullnuts! Bullnuts, bullnuts, bull-”
“Izzy!” Her mother glared at Jack as if it was all his fault her precious devil child was swearing. “I’d like it if you told her off when she uses that sort of language.”
“I-”
“Okay, Carl,” Kelly smiled back at her baby, whose cries had now subsided into hiccups. “Y’all need to stay here with him…” She looked up expectantly.
Jack blinked. “What?”
“Well, Jack?” Miranda looked at him in anticipation. “Come and take the baby.”
The human sausage fixed a bleary eye on him.
“Oh, Mom!” Apparently, it was time for Isabella to make her entrance. She thrust herself into the limelight. “Oh, why? Why? Why? Why do you have to go and leave us… with him?”
“With ‘im!” Lil’ Jack echoed feebly.
“He’ll be boring, Mom! He’ll lock us up! We won’t be allowed to play!”
“No play; no play!”
“Why can’t Aaron look after us instead-?”
“He’s in South Africa visiting family. You know that.”
“Aaron! Aaron!” Lil’ Jack thrust his pudgy fists in the air mournfully.
“Take the baby, Jack.” It was Miranda who spoke, beckoning him forwards.
“Oh… right.” Jack dodged around Isabella and rescued the struggling hotdog from his mother’s arms.
“WHAT ABOUT MY SEPRATION ISOES?”
“Shoes! Shoes!”
“Izzy.”
One word- just one word from their aunt, and both children fell silent. Miranda towered before them, legs spread, and eyes narrowed. Jack saw them gulp, and he couldn’t blame them. If Miranda ever looked at him like that he’d run half a mile in the other direction.
“I’d like y’all to apologize to your mom.”
The girl fidgeted wildly; looking up at Kelly with an upturned nose.
“Izzy.”
“Sorry, Mom.”
Kelly forced a smile. “Thank you, dear.”
Miranda rounded on Lil’ Jack. “You too, Junior. Say it.”
There was no hesitation. “Sorry, Mommy.”
“Y’all better behave yourselves,” Miranda said lightly. “Big Jack here is a good friend of mine, and y’all will have lots of fun. But if I hear anything…”
“We’ll be good,” groaned Isabella, rolling her eyes.
Kelly looked at Jack worriedly, as the fat chunk of lard dribbled down his T-shirt. “Y’all… er… sure you can do this?”
Kelly was smaller than her sister, around 5ft 8, and had a roundness to her abdomen that was obviously attributed to childbirth. Her face was more circular, her hair was short and smooth, but she had the same crinkles of laughter around her eyes, the same lips and the same high cheekbones. The sisters were equally attractive, and Jack felt his heart melt in a familiar way at the pleading note in her voice.
“Of course,” he said confidently, clutching the hiccupping Carl closer. Carl, at least, seemed to have completely forgotten his mother. He seemed fascinated by the fact that Jack’s flat chest didn’t provide much of a pillow.
Kelly smiled, real relief crinkling around her eyes as she watched the baby gurgle curiously to itself. “Alright. Thank you.”
As the two sisters turned to leave, Miranda gave Jack the thumbs-up. Oddly smug with himself, he returned it, and entered his home, where Isabella and Jack now stood uncertainly. Looking at the three children, thinking of their aunt and mother, Jack couldn’t help but wonder how such good genes had produced such wicked little creatures.
6.30 pm
Lil’ Jack may not be all that little for his age, but it was obvious how he’d gotten the nickname. Against his sister, he looked like a total runt; the top of his head just about brushing past her hip. He had tightly curling locks, wacky big eyes and much softer, more delicate features than his sister. He wore a ‘Galactik Football’ (yeah, what the hell?) T-shirt and had perfectly shaped almond fingernails; but the fingers themselves were chewed to bits. He was missing a front tooth along the bottom row, because- he’d cheerfully told Jack over a bowl of ice cream- it’d turned black from too much sugar, and had had to be pulled.
Sharing a first name with his new babysitter had caused Lil’ Jack to take a shine to his fellow Jack. Upon the discovery within the Trove gardens of a football- “I can be Jock!”- Lil’s Jack had insisted on re-enacting a scene from his favourite show.
“It’s very diff-cult to un’stand,” Lil’ Jack told him knowledgably. “Y’all need to watch real close, and the orange guy’s called Jock, and he’s my best one, ‘cause-”
“He’s your favourite one,” Isabella butted in, picking up the muddy ball from the ground.
Lil’ Jack nodded eagerly. “Yeah. He’s my favbrit-”
“Fa-vour-ite.”
“Favourbrit-”
“Favourite!”
“I says that, di’n’t I, Big Jack?”
“The important thing is,” Jack replied, laughing, “that you were very, very close.”
Isabella snorted. She was going out of her way to be a lot more difficult than her brothers.
Carl had been easy. Despite his initial doubts, Jonas had really taken to the baby, and Carl, after deeming Jack’s flat chest an unworthy cushion, found Jonas’ soft flab a suitable replacement. Jonas was nearing 65, was completely out of shape, had grey hair and round little glasses which constantly sat on the tip of his nose. Now that old Mrs Taylor was gone, he was the longest standing member of the Trove household staff. Because of this, although Jonas was only the security guy, he still exercised a certain amount of authority over the other staff; including Miranda, though technically, as housekeeper, she was his boss.
Despite her brothers’ delight in the hands of Jonas and Jack, Isabella was so far unimpressed. She’d quickly hid her initial awe at the size of the Trove mansion behind a scowl, and pretended she wasn’t following the Jacks’ conversation, but her frequent inputs gave her away. She’d eaten the earlier ice creams in silence, but Jack hadn’t missed the wonder in her eyes each time a spoonful entered her mouth.
The cook had made it, and hell, it was good ice cream.
“Close,” echoed Lil’ Jack, evidently pleased. “I was close.”
“Perhaps,” Jack knelt, coming down to their level and giving Isabella a welcoming smile, “we should let Izzy choose our next game.”
Lil’ Jack’s jaw dropped in horror. “But she don’t like ‘Galactik Football’!”
Funny how well he was able to pronounce the complex name of that particular programme.
“Don’t call me, ‘Izzy’,” Isabella ordered Jack testily. “Only Mom, Dad, Aunty Miranda, my brothers and Aaron are allowed to do that.”
“Alright, Isabella,” he forced out the poisonous name through gritted teeth, “what will we play?”
“No, Big Jack!” Lil’ Jack squealed desperately, “y’all don’t know what she’s gon’ do-”
“It can’t be that bad,” Jack told him, but neither Jack believed it.
They were proved correct.
“Mommies and Daddies.”
Both Jacks flinched at the sound of the dreaded girly game.
Isabella’s eyes sparkled maliciously. “And I’m the Mommy. Jack’s the Daddy. And Lil’ Jack’s the baby.”
“Make Carl be Baby.”
“Carl’s already a baby, so then we wouldn’t be playing pretend, would we?” she cackled. “So, you’re the baby.”
Lil’ Jack’s sense of manhood was wilting, and Big Jack knew, for his little counterpart’s sake, he had to intervene.
“No, you’re not a baby,” Jack said forcefully, “you’re our kid… but let’s say… you’re not a baby. You’re a teenager.”
“A teemager?” Lil’ Jack’s eyes misted with wonder. “Like y’all?”
Isabella folded her arms. “I want him to be Baby!”
“Jeez, you’re lucky I married you,” Jack shot back, “so pipe down. Anyway, if he’s a teenager, you get to tell him off more.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How?”
“Well,” Jack clapped his hand on the 4 year old’s shoulder, “Lil’ Jack here can be 16, driving a motorcycle- y’know, … badass.”
“Badass…” Lil’ Jack spoke carefully, the two syllables trembling slightly in his excitement. It was obvious he had no clue what on earth it meant.
“Ass is a swearword,” Isabella told her brother crossly.
“Er,” Jack cursed inwardly, realising his mistake. “No, no, it’s not. It means… donkey.”
Isabella rounded on him. “It means butt.”
“It can mean both, okay?” he cried, exasperated. “Anyway-”
“Y’all calling my brother a donkey, a butt, or both?”
“Neither!” Why did she have to be so difficult? “Lots of teenagers are badass- it’s a good word- it means you’re tough.”
“Tuff,” Lil’ Jack repeated. “Yeah. I’m badass.”
“You ain’t tough-” she was cut off in mid-sentence as Jack clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Yeah, mate, you’re dead tough,” Jack told his tiny friend. “You wear… black all the time, drive a motorcycle, you smoke, and get all the girls-”
“Get ‘em?” For the first time, Lil’ Jack looked confused. “But… but Mom says I ain’t s’posed to hit lay-dees.”
“Er, no, that’s not quite what I mean.” Isabella’s sharp teeth dug into the soft flesh of his finger, and he was forced to let go. “I meant you get a lot of girlfriends. And Isabella, I swear to God, if you bite me again, we’re getting a divorce.”
“Don’t swear!” she scolded. “Y’all are a bad influence.”
Aw, nuts.
Jack didn’t like to think what Miranda would do to him if she heard her dear little niece badmouthing him. He couldn’t allow himself to disappoint her. Thinking quickly, Jack swivelled on his knees to face her. He had never failed to win a girl’s heart with the smile he now gave Isabella, and he was determined she would be no exception.
“Darling,” he said softly, “we shouldn’t be wasting our time arguing like this; not with our son running wild like he is.”
“What?”
“Look at him!” He grabbed her by the elbow and spun her to face Lil’ Jack, who was currently investigating the contents of his left nostril. “He’s out of control! Going out late, joy-riding, getting in trouble with the police.”
“Y’all mean the cops.”
“We live in England,” Jack gritted his teeth, “Isabella, darling.”
“Nope,” a sudden, unexpected grin stretched her features. “We live on a lil’ unicorn ranch in Texas. Young man!” She took a step towards her brother, who snapped to attention at once. “Straighten up and fly right, or you’re gonna be grounded for a lifetime!”
Lil’ Jack blinked, then, immediately, his shoulders dropped, his jacket was zipped and his hood pulled up, shielding his eyes. He swaggered before his ‘parents’.
“Make me.”
His ‘mother’ leaned forward, and in one long, smooth stroke, she clipped him around the ears. Her voice was a spiteful snarl. “Show some respect, you insolent boy.”
“Never.” With a banshee-like battle cry, Lil’ Jack jumped up and punched the air. “I’m running away!”
Jack, who’d been watching the show with a slightly detached fascination, leaped to his feet. “Where?” he demanded of his ‘son’. “You’ve got nowhere to go, and no-one to run to!”
“I’ll find a way-” the little freedom fighter responded. “Me and… Tia gon’ go live in Hollywood. We’s gon’ be stars!”
“You’ll never make it!”
“Don’t be a fool, boy.”
“THIS IS FOR Y’ALL, TIA!” Lil’ Jack screamed skywards, and- he ran for it.
Isabella turned to Jack; her eyes suddenly alight with the thrill of the chase. “We’ve got to catch him! You go that way; I’ll head round behind the bushes. He will not get away with this!”
Jack nodded dumbly, amazed that this ‘Mommies and Daddies’ lark had actually worked, and jogged off in the direction his ‘wife’ had pointed him.
8.30 pm
That had to be one of the most intense games of ‘Mommies and Daddies’ Jack had ever played. Jack had caught his ‘son’ and after a brief wrestle, Isabella had locked Lil’ Jack in his ‘room’ (i.e. made him stand for 5 minutes beside a tree) before the little rebel had found a ‘gun’ (a twig) and broken out of the house. Then he’d hopped on one of the unicorns and flown all the way to ‘Miami’ (the patio) where Isabella found him and told him Tia was dead. Jack, in the meantime, lost his job, became estranged from the family, and went crazy- wandering the streets and trying to eat babies- that was, until Jonas objected to Carl’s part in the game, and Jack had to settle for a healthy meal of grass instead. After a freak circus accident, a liaison with a prince for Isabella and a trek through the Sahara, ‘mother’ and ‘son’ killed Jack, took all his money and started a new life together, running a chocolate and Coca-Cola plantation.
At this point, the children had realised they were tired, so a relieved Jack had picked up one in each arm, and carried them inside.
“Y’all must be real strong, Big Jack,” Lil’ Jack said softly, as Jack set them down on the couch.
“I am,” Jack told them, “I’ve got super strength.”
“He’s lying,” Isabella told her brother. “Only Superman’s got super strength.”
Jack chuckled. “No, really, I do. It’s one of my powers.”
Isabella rolled her eyes. “Only stoodents of Orchid Hill had magical powers.”
Jack smirked. “Hmm, that so? Well-”
“Oh, wow! Is that a TV?”
Lil’ Jack teetered on the tips of his toes, yet the top of his head still didn’t manage to make it halfway up the screen. His chubby hands spread across it, leaving sticky fingerprints all along the bottom.
“Er… yeah,” Jack picked up the remote. “I dunno if we’ve got any kid DVDs… Oh, hey! I know! Have you guys ever seen the Matrix?”
It was one of the only movies he could think of off the top of his head that didn’t have any sex scenes.
They shook their heads.
“Awesome,” Jack left them to their own devices as he hopped out and down the hall, going to fetch the DVD from his room.
Along the stairs, he met Jonas. The chubby security guy jumped sky high at the sight of Jack.
“Oh my goodness, sir, you scared-”
“Where’s Carl?”
Jonas coughed. “Well, y’know, I didn’t know where else to put him... so I, er, left him in your room. He’s asleep, see, but here’s the baby monitor, here-” he shoved it clumsily at Jack, “so you’ll know if something’s wrong-”
“Jonas,” Jack interrupted, grinning. “Calm down, okay? You can go home now. You’ve done well.”
A mixture of surprise and relief crossed Jonas’ face. “I- you- really?”
“Yes,” Jack clapped him on the back, “I’ll make sure your paycheque reflects that, don’t you worry.”
Jonas’ face shone with gratitude. “Thank you, sir. My wife will like that… sir.”
Jack regarded him with a sudden curiosity. He’d never heard Jonas mention anything of his home life before… and frankly, Jack had never thought to ask. Jonas was just another person who turned up everyday to do a job. The years had piled on the weight, and had discoloured his once auburn hair, but besides for that, Jack had never really noticed him… or any of the others, for that matter.
Only the housekeeper- first in the form of Old Mrs Taylor, and then in the lovely shape of Miranda- had ever made any real impact in Jack’s life, and that was simply because the housekeeper lived… well… in the house.
“Have you… got any kids, Jonas?” Jack asked, leading him down to the front door.
“Yeah,” Jonas’ chest suddenly puffed out proudly. “Just the one- my daughter, Abigail. She’s about 28, now, and… she’s just given birth to our first grandchild.”
“Wow!” Jack was astounded. He’d never even heard of Abigail before. “That’s… that’s great! Congratulations!”
“Thank you, sir.”
“No, really,” Jack shook Jonas’ hand enthusiastically. “I mean it.”
Jonas’ cheeks turned a sort of rust colour. “G- good night, sir. It’s been a pleasure.”
“Ditto!” called Jack after him. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
“It’s a Sunday, sir.”
“Oh…” Jack chuckled, “well, ‘til Monday, then!”
The aging grandfather raised a hand in farewell as he climbed into an elderly looking blue Cleo. Jack closed the door, checked the baby monitor was definitely working, and went off in search of ‘The Matrix’.
When Jack finally returned to the lounge, Lil’ Jack sat gaping at a Spongebob Squarepants at least three times his height. Although he was completely immersed in the land of pineapples and Krabby Patties, his sister sat on a separate, further back couch, regarding her surroundings cautiously. Frowning, Jack came to sit beside her.
“What’s up, Isabella?”
She bit her lip. “Nothin’.”
He set down the dusty DVD on the arm of the sofa. “Cut the crap.”
His reward was a nasty blow to the back of his head.
“Y’all know I don’t like swearing, Jack!”
He was reminded forcibly of Miranda. The resemblance between aunt and niece was suddenly striking.
He bowed his head apologetically. “Sorry.” Then, gently, he shoved her off the settee. Outraged at this act of defiance, the girl leaped to her feet; her eyes a pair of black slits.
“How dare-”
“You know I don’t like lying, Isabella.”
Her mouth snapped shut and her head dropped. There was a short pause, over which the ever-exuberant Spongebob insisted, “I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready-”
“Izzy.”
“What?” Jack turned his head away from the screen.
The two bushy pigtails bounced as she threw her head back. “Call me Izzy, sir.”
“Sir?” Jack spluttered in amazement at her sudden change in attitude. “Why are you calling me that?”
“Well,” she shifted from one white sock to the other, “I ‘pect I should ‘cause you’re rich, and, well… I ain’t.”
A wave of shock chilled his heart. He sank off the sofa to the his knees, and found himself clutching the 7 year old’s shoulders.
“Izzy… I’m not rich.”
“Sure you are,” she half-laughed. “Mom said so to Aunty Miranda. She was… sad, I think. So that’s why I didn’t like you at first- I thought you’d have to be a right mean old snob to make Mom sad. But… you’re not. Y’all are… nice.”
“No.” Jack didn’t know why… but somehow, it was vastly important she understood this. “My dad’s… well, he’s rich. I’m only rich ‘cause my dad is. I just got lucky. I didn’t, y’know, earn anything. I was born rich- but I could’ve just as easily been born in the estates with you.”
“But… you’re not.”
“I just got lucky,” he repeated firmly. “Just call me Jack, ‘cause that’s all I am. I’m no better than you, Lil’ Jack, Carl or anyone else. I’m just Jack. Not sir. Jack. Okay?”
She graced him with her gummy grin. “Big Jack.”
He chuckled. “Big Jack.”
“Oi!” Lil’ Jack leaped out of nowhere, and crashed wildly into Jack’s chest, knocking them both back. “C’mon! I wanna watch ‘The Matriss’!”
“Alright, alright,” Jack hopped back on the couch, settling the excitable 4 year old on his lap. He winked at Izzy. “Will you do the honours?”
She picked up the remote, and pressed the DVD button. As the screen flashed blue, there was a simultaneous, “Oooh,” from the two children. The disc drive rolled out automatically, and Jack clapped once, causing the lights to flicker off.
“Okay, Izzy; you put the DVD in.”
With a trembling hand, she removed the disc and slotted it in. Cackling with delight as the blue screen whirred to life she scrambled back across the room and snuggled up quick to Jack.
“Hey, Big Jack?” came Lil’ Jack’s voice from somewhere around his waist. “Is this ‘Matriss’… scary?”
“Oh, very,” Jack told him, “but I think you two are brave enough to handle it.”
“I’m brave,” the boy replied firmly, “but… er… well, y’all can protect us, just in case of something… bad.”
“I will,” Jack laughed as Izzy leaned forward to take the remote and press, ‘Play’. “Don’t worry. I will…”
11.45 pm
Carl was still fast asleep when Jack carried the two others up to his room. Izzy and Lil’ Jack had thoroughly enjoyed ‘The Matrix’, even though they’d talked the whole way through it, hadn’t followed the plot, and had kept pausing it to go get ice cream. Izzy wanted to marry Neo, and Lil’ Jack wanted to be just like Morpheus. As for Jack, it was the most fun he’d had watching a movie… well, ever.
The moment Isabella’s head met the mattress beside her baby brother, she was out for the night. Only Lil’ Jack remained, fighting and failing against the onslaught of the Sandman.
“C’mon, mate,” Jack sighed, pushing him down. “Your aunt’s gonna murder me. You’re already up far too late.”
“I’m not,” a yawn ruptured his sentence, “tired…”
Jack smirked. “Uh huh.”
“Big Jack?” The kid’s eyelids slipped a fraction. “Have y’all really got Super Dooper Strength?”
“Yep.”
“Are you magic?”
“Yep.”
“Do you go to Or… Orcad Hill?”
“Yep.”
“Well, what’s sorts powers you got, ‘sides from strength?”
Jack held up three fingers. “Super strength.” One finger went down. “Fire control.” A second fell. “And I can pull knives out of my flesh.” His fist furled.
“Wow.”
“Yep,” Jack chuckled.
“Think maybe I’ve got powers.”
“Do you?”
“Uh… huh. I spit really far. Mommy says it’s a real nasty ‘abit. I got venom innit, she says.”
“Wow.”
“Think maybe I could go to Orcad?”
“Wait a few more years,” he replied, getting to his feet.
Lil’ Jack rolled over, entangling himself in an embrace with his siblings. ‘Big’ Jack smiled in relief, and switched off the lights.
It was around half an hour later when Jack heard a light, but persistent knocking at the door. Jack- who’d been lazing around with his iPod in one ear and the baby monitor in the other- jumped into action and threw open the front door to welcome the sisters.
They fell through the door, the rise and fall of their badly suppressed laughter chiming like bells in Jack’s ears. He guided the slightly tipsy pair into the kitchen, where he was regaled with a slurred account of the night’s antics. They’d gone out for a meal at some upmarket place, before throwing caution to the wind and going out clubbing; something neither had done since they were teenagers, when Isabella was still just a baby.
“Speaking of which,” Kelly staggered to her feet, rubbing her eyes blearily, “how were they?”
“They’ve been great, but they’re fast asleep, now,” he replied, a touch of pride decorating his tone.
Kelly looked a little dumbfounded. “No complaints? No tantrums? No trouble?”
“Nope. They’ve been fantastic.” Isabella’s earlier moody disposition had completely erased itself from his memory.
Kelly ran her hands through her cropped hair. “R… really?”
“Yep.”
She laughed softly. “Wow. That’s amazing. Jack… I hadn’t… I suppose I hadn’t really thought you could do it,” she bobbed her head apologetically, “I dunno, I guess you didn’t seem the type.”
He blinked. “The type?”
She shrugged. “Just… you looked like the kind of guy who didn’t really… have much time for kids.”
“Told you he’d be good,” Miranda said smugly.
Jack smiled gratefully at her.
“They’ll be a nightmare to get home,” Kelly groaned. “Gosh… they won’t want to leave now.”
“Then don’t make them!”
The two women looked at him in shock. Jack, already glowing with the triumph the success of the night had brought him, had just stumbled across another one of his fantastic ideas; an idea that would- hopefully- earn him another slice of Miranda’s gratitude.
“It’s late,” he said, his voice reasonable, but inside he was buzzing with excitement. “You’ll never be able to settle them if you wake them up; but you can stay here. You could sleep in one of our guest rooms, or with Miranda-”
“But, Jack,” Miranda was obviously intrigued, “where are you gonna sleep if they’re in your room?”
“There’s more than one guestroom,” he reminded her. “I’ll be grand.”
Kelly looked stunned. “I… really? Are y’all sure, ‘cause I mean, it’s not necessary…”
“I know,” Jack laughed, “but you’re tired, and so are your kids. It’s the least I can do.”
Kelly glanced nervously at Miranda; completely confused by Jack’s willingness to help. Her sister simply smiled broadly, and Kelly encouraged, looked back at Jack and smiled too.
“I just… thank you. No-one’s ever… well, thank you!”
Jack loved the buzz her obvious appreciation gave him, and he loved that he had won it by doing something so simple- something which, actually, made him happy too. He was kinda… starting to like the Von Trapps. Sometimes, they weren’t all that bad.
Jack excused himself a while later, and headed upstairs to get ready to hit the sack. Halfway up, he heard a sudden call behind him.
“Jack!”
In the shadow of the hall, he could barely see Miranda coming up the stairs behind him, but the glint of her teeth was unmistakable. She stopped a step beneath him, looking up.
“Thanks, Jack. Kelly… well, she needed this.”
“I told you guys, it’s the least I can-”
Jack was cut off mid-sentence as she hopped up and kissed him on the cheek.
“Y’all are great, kid,” she said warmly. “I’m gonna be lonely as hell when you go back to that school of yours.”
Jack nodded dizzily, and watched her retreat downstairs. It was a while before he remembered where he was, and what he was supposed to be doing.
1.35 am, Sunday morning
With sleep evading him, Jack had given up and turned on his iPod instead. He had it up so loud, it was a while before he realised there were voices talking in the next room- Mal’s room. One was Mal’s rough grunt; the other was female, but it was so faint, he could barely hear it. But their tones were unmistakable. Both were low- and excited.
Jack groaned and turned up his iPod as loud as he could stand, as the bed in the room beside him began to creak; doing his best to ignore the sickening twist in his stomach.
