The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1070 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I had changed one tyre by the time Simon caught up with me. “Right, missus, what is this about preventing a robbery at Paget’s?”

“Pass the tyre lever, will you?” I held out my hand and he grudgingly placed the blue piece of plastic in my hand. I slipped it around the deflated tyre rim and after a small amount of fiddling removed the tyre.

“I’m waiting,” he said impatiently.

“I expect Trish gave you chapter and verse, I didn’t do much except my civic duty and call the plod.”

“She said you tripped one and sat on him.”

“I might have done, can’t remember.”

“Cathy, what if he’d roughed you up.”

“He was winded by his fall and lay there groaning. I simply helped him lie still while we waited for the plod to arrive.”

“You take too many risks, Cathy, you have children to consider now.”

“I’m well aware I have children to consider, but I want them to grow up with a firm idea of right and wrong, and not to be the sort of person who stands by when wrong is done.”

“If they’re like you, they’d be lucky to make it to maturity.”

“Better that than to live to old age regretting one’s impotence.”

“Eh? I thought only boys suffered from impotence.”

“That is a very specific use of the word, I was using it much more generally.”

“Don’t try to confuse me with semantics, young lady, I’m concerned about your continual risk taking.”

“Yes, father, I’m well aware that you’re trying to control me.”

“Very funny–control you? Ha, more chance of training a polar bear.”

“They’re very intelligent animals.”

“Read the Guardian, do they?”

“Yes, the Arctic edition, but they can’t do the crossword.”

“Why?”

“They can’t hold a pencil, can they?”

“How would I know? You’re the mammal expert.”

I shrugged. “Did Trish go off to bed okay?”

“Yes, I gave her a little cuddle, she wanted to read but I said it was past lights out, and she said, ‘Lights out at nine candles out at ten.’ Where does she get these things?”

“You’re asking me? Try Stella–sounds like one of her dormitory stories.”

“Why would they be using candles in a bedroom, they’d be a fire risk, wouldn’t they?” His face was dead pan so if he was playing stupid he was doing a very good job of it. “And wouldn’t the house mistress, or whatever see the light flickering?”

“Simon, I think it refers to a different use of candles.”

“What else could you use them for–cooking something? You know midnight feasts.”

“Simon, I accept that young adolescent women might well be snacking after they’ve gone to bed, but I suspect the use of candles in that phrase which I believe is an urban myth about Roedean school, is somewhat different to your understanding.”

“Like what?”

“Use your head, Si, oh pass me that pump will you?”

“My head?”

“What do young adolescents think about most of their waking hours and dream about at night?”

“Sex?”

I nodded.

“Good lord, what is Trish thinking about–you need to talk to that daughter of ours.”

“I don’t think six year olds are consumed by sex, even in this family, I suspect she was repeating something she’s heard Stella say, given the feed line you offered of lights out.”

“Oh–maybe you should have words with her just in case.”

“I had words with her last week, she thinks sex is disgusting. Mind you, so did I until a year or two ago.”

“Before you met me?” Simon smiled blithely.

“Actually no, it was Kevin.”

“Cathy Watts, you told me you were a virgin when we got together.”

“I was–do you remember the rough neck who kissed me in your car, when it broke down?”

“Vaguely, why?”

“He didn’t peck me on the cheek like I said he did, he kissed me on the mouth and it caused me to do something I’d never experienced before.”

“Oh yeah, which was?”

“I had my first orgasm,” I blushed trying to hide it by bending over to pump up the tyre.

“You had you first orgasm in my car while being kissed by a bit of rough? I can’t believe that–that is sick.”

“I thought it was rather beautiful,” I thought back to it and a warm glow suffused my body.

“Didn’t you do it in the bath or in bed while having fantasies of um–Lance Armstrong or Eddy Merckx?”

“No I did not, now that would be sick.”

“I’d have thought you’d have fancied a young virile cycling champ.”

“Simon, I was so naive, it was unbelievable–I had no feelings for anything, let alone men. They were big hairy arsed things who called me names and hit me from time to time.”

“And, Kev’s kiss lit your fire did it?”

“I don’t know what it did except confuse me. If you recall, I said virtually nothing in the car all the way back to the bike shop.”

“I thought you were a girl then.”

“I was–with a plumbing problem, if you recall?”

“Oh I remember all right, gave me quite a shock when you told me the truth.”

“It gave me quite a shock when you said you fancied me, you and Kev, were the first to ever say such a nice thing to me.”

“Was I?” he beamed, “I was the first? Really?”

I nodded. I couldn’t remember who said what first, not that it matters. “The only terms used to describe me until then were pejorative ones. You saw me as I really was, whereas others had seen me in the wrong context, so drew the wrong conclusions. In some ways I’ve quite enjoyed seeing them again where they haven’t recognised me from before and looked at me with lust in their eyes. If they knew, they’d get quite a shock.”

“That’s all in the past isn’t it, Babes?” he put his arms round me as I was fitting the wheel back on the bike. “I mean you don’t see Kev now, do you?”

“See Kev? Why, are you jealous?”

“Of course not–young whippersnapper–you’re my wife, so I have you safely...”

“I’m your wife, Simon, but you don’t actually own me, you know.”

“Of course not, I wasn’t going to say that as it happens.”

“I’m glad to hear it, now let me just put the brakes back together.” I bent down to do up the quick release on the vee brakes, when he stroked my bottom. “Ouch, bugger, I’ve cut my finger.” I shouted and jumped as he tickled my rump. “Look what you made me do.” I held up my finger dripping with blood.

“Sorry, babes, but your bum looked so sexy bent over like that.”

“Well pass me a tissue then, I don’t want blood everywhere.” He did so and I wrapped my finger in it, “Damn, that hurts.”

“Shall I kiss it better for you?”

“Not unless you fancy a mouthful of oily blood.”

“Not really.”

“Right well you reset that brake and I’ll go and stick this under the tap.”

I walked to the sink in the corner of my workshop and stuck the bloody finger under the cold tap. It stung.

“Um–Babes–um–what am I supposed to do?”

“Good grief, have you never reset the quick release on bicycle brakes before?”

He shook his head.

“No even on side-pull?”

He shook his head again.

“So who did yours when you were a kid?”

“Dad was the bike rider, he always did it.”

“Weren’t you curious about what to do?”

“If I was, it became expedient to let him do it.”

“Simon, I am disappointed in you.” I wrapped a sticking plaster around the injured part and showed him how to reset the brake. “See, easy isn’t it?”

“If you’re into such things.”

“Want me to show you how to do it on the side-pulls?”

“No, how about showing me your quick release,” he said and pulled me into him and kissed me.