Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 839 by Angharad

Saturday morning arrived and I was up early although I felt tired and yawned all through breakfast. “Careful, Mummy, you nearly swallowed my dish then,” said Trish with a serious expression but her eyes were sparkling.

“You cheeky little maggot, any more out of you and I’ll send you to Wantage with the other children from that home.”

Livvie’s jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t send Trish away would you?”

“Don’t send Twish away–nasty Mummy,” said Mima only hearing part of the conversation because she was trying to force feed cornflakes to a reluctant doll.

“Does Trish look worried?” I asked, she was smirking, knowing too well that I’d never send her away–except to university, and we had a few years to go before that.

“Oh don’t send me away, I’ll be good and eat all my greens...” Trish was camping it up.

“You eat them all anyway.”

“Don’t send me out into the cold and wet.”

“It isn’t raining, is it?”

“No, Mummy,” said Mima now growing tired of the game. She wandered off to the lounge which was when the doorbell rang. She came back a moment later and said, “Mummy, there’s a bwack man wants you.” Stella who’d come down for a fresh coffee nearly choked to death and the other two girls were looking shocked.

“Ask him in, Mima.” She ran off to do so, and moments later led him back to the kitchen. He came in looking very cold.

“This, everyone, is Leon, he’s going to be doing some gardening and odd-jobs for me at the weekends.” I introduced the rest of them to him and added, “So if anyone has anything they think Leon can do for them, please ask him–that’s okay isn’t it, Leon?” He nodded and I offered him a cup of coffee.

“Can you make my dowwies eat veir food?” asked Meems, holding the doll up to the youth who towered over her. The other two thought it was hilarious and I’m sure he was blushing, although I doubt Mima intended to embarrass him.

“Meems, I meant things like cleaning their bikes or tidying the shed.”

“Can you clean my bike for me?” immediately spouted Trish.

Before Leon could answer–he was having a sip, well okay a gulp, of coffee–I interrupted. “Leon can help by supervising you cleaning your own bike, he’s not here to do things that you should do.”

“So he can’t clean the bedroom either, then?” sighed Livvie, getting in on the act.

“Certainly not you lazy lot, just for that you three will go and tidy your bedroom now, go on–off you go.” We watched the three of them grumble as they traipsed upstairs. Stella smirked–“And don’t you start, or I’ll make you tidy yours too.”

“Yes, Mummy,” said Stella and grinned while Leon had no idea where to look and he continued pretending to drink his coffee from an empty cup.

“You look cold, how did you get here?”

“Bike,” he sort of grunted back at me.

“I didn’t know you cycled?”

“Mum bought it for me yesterday.”

“Mountain bike?”

“Yeah, a cheapo one from ‘alfords.”

“It’s still quicker than walking.” I chided, “Are you going to pay her back?”

“Yeah, a tenner a mumph.”

“Okay, I’m glad to hear that, how’s your Mum?”

“Okay.” He shrugged looking embarrassed again, like all youths do before older women.

“Did you bring anything to eat for lunch?” I asked and he shook his head.

“Din’t know I was sa-posed to,” he mumbled.

“That’s okay, you can eat with us, you’re not veggie are you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Not that it would matter today, I’m doing a vegetable curry, you okay with that?” I asked the gangly youth and he nodded.

“Curry?” said Stella, “You don’t like curry.”

“I know, but I want the girls to be able to eat most things.”

“You’ll eat it, to make them do the same?”

“Not make them, but encourage them.”

“Cor, I’m seriously impressed,” said Stella with eyes dancing.

“Oh go and tidy your bedroom,” I snapped back.

“At once, Mummy.” She scuttled away giggling to herself while I blushed pretending not to be embarrassed by her.

I heard a car pull into the drive and watched Tom get out of a brand new Mondeo estate car. It was a sort of deep metallic red and he stood a few feet away and admired it. He’d bought himself a new car, about time too. He trudged up the drive and came in the back door.

“Daddy, this is Leon; Leon, this is Professor Agnew.”

They shook hands and Tom asked, “Are ye the laddie wha’s gaen’ tae dae the gerden?” Leon looked completely bemused. Tom looked at me, “Dis he no unnerstaun’ English?”

“Yes, but you don’t speak it very often.”

Tom looked incensed, “I’ll hae ye ken the purest English comes frae Scotland.”

“Absolutely,” I said while Leon stood grinning and baffled.

“Dinna werry, ladddie, ye’ll pick it up as ye go alon’.” Tom was smiling at the confused youth.

“I’m going to ask Leon to rub down and paint the old shed, before it falls down,” I told Tom.

“Aye, aricht. I’ll hae a coffee an’ be oot in a mo to show ye whit tae dae.” Leon looked totally ignorant of what Tom had said.

“He speaks English as well as Lallans,” I told the boy as I led him outside. At his questioning look, I said, “Lowland Scots dialect.” He nodded but was probably confused.

“Like Mel Gibson–Brave’eart?” he asked.

“Indeed, Wallace was from Paisley near Glasgow, so he’d be a lowlander. Well done kiddo, Daddy will be impressed.” Leon’s face split to reveal a huge white toothed smile. “Only don’t mention it too much, because he reckons the film was rubbish and Mel Gibson’s accent was the pits. He talked like a Highlander, or Heelander as Daddy would say it.”

“’Ighlander, now vats a good film.” Said Leon. I nodded we might just have a channel open for communication. “Your dad don’t wear no skirt, do ‘e?”

“Only when he’s about to go out slaying Englishmen, why?”

“Only, Mel Gibson did in Brave’eart.”

“Don’t think too much about it, kiddo, it’s called a kilt not a skirt, and not many Scots wear them except for ceremonial purposes, like formal dances.”

“What, vey go to dances in skirts, bleedin’ weird if you ask me?” Fortunately, nobody was.