‘Great-looking children,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ John said, looking down at his son proudly, then at his daughter.
Then with a frown he said, ‘Nineteen months old, right?’
‘Nineteen and a half,’ John said. He smiled at Naomi and she smiled nervously back. They were beautiful and blossoming more each day.
‘I’d have guessed quite a bit older than that,’ the psychiatrist said. Then, leaning right forward and crossing his arms, he asked, ‘OK, so, tell me, how I can help?’
Naomi and John looked at each other. ‘Want me to start?’ Naomi said to her husband.
‘Sure.’
‘OK,’ she said. She told the psychiatrist their concerns, that whilst on the intercom they constantly heard Luke and Phoebe chatting away to each other in baby talk, and sounding like they were playing happily. But whenever they went into the room, the babies fell silent, almost as if they were pretending to be asleep. That they did not seem to be interested in playing or communicating with other kids. And, perhaps even more importantly, that after nineteen and a half months they were not showing any signs of talking, not even saying Mama or Dada.
Talbot put them at their ease. ‘It’s a twins thing, quite often,’ he said. ‘Because twins become absorbed with each other, they very often take longer to relate to the world around them than a single baby. There are plenty of twins who don’t start to speak until well past the age of two, so that’s not something you need to worry about – at this stage. How is their eating?’
John and Naomi glanced at each other, uncomfortable on this topic, and unsure how much Dettore had had an influence on this. ‘They don’t really seem interested in food,’ Naomi said. ‘They were hungry as babies, but now they eat about half of what our paediatrician and the books say they should be eating.’
Dr Talbot watched Luke and Phoebe alternately for some moments. ‘They don’t look undernourished to me. Kids find their own level with nutrition. How’s their health?’
‘So far, touch wood,’ Naomi said, ‘it’s been excellent.’
‘No colds, nothing!’ John said proudly.
‘I don’t want to tempt fate,’ Naomi cautioned. ‘But they seem very robust.’
‘Not one cold in nineteen and a half months?’
She shook her head.
‘Remarkable.’
Dr Talbot engaged eye contact for some moments with Luke then with Phoebe. Then, staring down at the coffee table, he rocked back and forward. ‘I can see curiosity – which is common with all infants. They’re looking at me, trying to figure me out, trying to figure this place out. That’s a pretty healthy sign.’
‘There is one thing that I – that we – have noticed, in both of them,’ John said suddenly. ‘They are really fascinated by animals.’
Naomi nodded vigorously. ‘They are. We were out in the garden yesterday and a neighbour’s cat jumped down from the fence, and they both trotted towards it, giggling. And there was a rabbit in the garden one day last week – bloody thing was eating my roses – and they thought the sight of it was wildly funny.’
‘Maybe when they’re a little older you should think about getting them a pet – something they can share between them and look after – pets are terrific for helping develop a sense of responsibility.’
‘You mean, like a goldfish?’ Naomi asked.
Talbot screwed up his face. ‘Goldfish are pretty, but they’re boring. I always advise something tactile, some creature that kids can connect and interact with, like a hamster or a gerbil, or a puppy or a cat – even a rabbit.’
‘We thought about getting a dog,’ Naomi said.
The psychiatrist nodded. ‘A dog would be good. OK, what I’d like to do is run a few little problem-solving tests with them, relating to sub goals, and see how they handle them, if that’s OK with you? I want to do this individually, which means you take one of them out of the room. Shall we start with ladies first?’
John went out into the hall with Luke and sat down on a chair. Naomi watched as, first, Roland Talbot laid two cloths on the coffee table. He held up a plastic cow, squeezed it and a mooing sound came out. He saw Phoebe’s eyes widen, and her arms reach out to try to grasp it. He pulled it back sharply away from her. Then he laid the cow on one cloth, well beyond Phoebe’s reach.
‘Let her try to get it,’ he told Naomi.
Phoebe moved closer to the table. In seconds, Phoebe grabbed the cloth with the cow on, yanked it sharply towards her, then grabbed the cow, and squeezed a moo from it.
‘Well done, darling!’ Naomi praised her.
Next, Talbot repeated the experiment, but this time he put a plastic barrier across the cloth, hiding the cow, still well out of Phoebe’s reach. The barrier could only be moved by grasping a handle attached to it.
Within seconds, Phoebe had jerked the barrier out of the way, and had the cow back in her hands, squeezing it excitedly.
Over the next fifteen minutes, the psychiatrist set Phoebe a series of tasks that seemed to Naomi to be progressively harder. Then he repeated the process with Luke.
When Luke completed the last task, the psychiatrist brought Naomi and Phoebe back into the room and sat them back down on the sofa. For some moments he looked pensive. Phoebe took a sudden interest in Naomi’s hair and began twisting it into a tangle. Luke reached out towards a set of cubes he had been putting together, angry that his father was holding him back.
The psychiatrist leaned against his chair, arms behind his head. ‘Well, John and Naomi, you do have something to worry about, but it’s not what you’ve come to see me about, I can tell you that.’
‘What do you mean?’ Naomi asked.
‘You’re worried about Luke and Phoebe being backward, right?’
Both John and Naomi hesitated, then nodded.
‘I can tell you this: they’re not the slightest bit backward. You know what I would worry about if they were my kids? They’re so damned smart, I’d be worrying about how the hell, in a few years time, I’m going to be able to keep up with them.’ He looked at them, giving them a chance for this to sink in.
John and Naomi exchanged a brief glance.
‘These kids have very advanced skills for their age. I would say unique in my experience. They even look advanced. They are good visual learners and very auditory learners, so they have it both ways. A colleague of mine is running a research programme on exceptionally bright children – with your permission I’d like-’
‘No,’ Naomi interrupted, very firmly, shooting a warning glance at John. ‘I don’t want my children under any kind of scrutiny like that.’
John, mindful of Kalle Almtorp’s warning to keep a low profile, said, ‘I’m sorry, but very definitely not.’
There had been no further word about the Disciples of the Third Millennium for a year now, but that did not mean they could start relaxing their guard. Until these people were identified and behind bars, they could never relax – and perhaps not even then. There were always going to be fanatics out there who would resent what they had done.
Roland Talbot put up his hands. ‘No sweat, absolutely, I understand.’
‘Thank you,’ John said.
‘But I do think you need to be prepared,’ the psychiatrist added. ‘When you start Luke and Phoebe in full-time school, it’s likely they’re going to get bored pretty quickly. You may have to fix it for them to get special treatment, otherwise you’ll hold them back and they’ll start resenting you for it.’
John looked at Luke and Phoebe, wondering how much of this they were understanding and taking on board. They gave no sign of any reaction at all.
As they left, ushering the kids along the hallway in front of them, John put an arm around Naomi and squeezed her, filled with immense pride and hope. Maybe, just maybe, all they had gone through was going to be worthwhile. Their children were healthy, and now a top psychologist confirmed that they were smart, way above average for their age.