Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1030.

The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1030
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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“What’s the matter with you?” asked Stella as I slaved in the kitchen organising a meal which would make feeding the five thousand a doddle.

“Dunno–fed up with Simon being a twit.”

“It’s what he does–and he’s pretty good at it. What specifically has he done this time?”

“I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t have got married.”

“It must be pretty serious if you’re thinking like that.”

“Not really, it was that car.”

“Yes, rather flash wasn’t it?”

“Too much for me.”

“Oh I don’t know, you can put on a bit of a turn when the mood takes you.”

“Which is not very often; I wanted something like the cars I’ve had before, just a runabout with room for three or four kids and the weekly shopping.”

“You could borrow Tom’s spare car for that.”

“I am–I mean on a more regular basis–I asked Daddy if I could buy it, he said no, just borrow it.”

“Well that just saved you ten grand, then.”

“But Simon thinks I copped out–unable to buy a car of my own.”

“So–does it matter?”

“He’s grumpy because I turned down his choice of wet-dream cars...” as I said this Stella burst out laughing. “What did I say?”

“His wet-dream car.”

“Oops, did I say that?” I blushed, “Well, I was thinking it–I mean, he has a nice car already, why did I need to join the jet set?”

“Because you’re his little wifey.”

“So?”

“Well the future Viscountess of Stanebury needs to look the part.”

“Yeah, but that means walking round in a Barbour, with a shotgun under my arm and smelling of stale horse sweat.”

She burst out laughing again, “We’re not all Thelwell characters you know.”

I laughed at this and we hugged, still giggling like insane schoolgirls. I stirred the Bolognaise sauce and decided it was time to put the pasta on to boil.

“Who would be little Maudie if we were?” I asked.

“Oh, I think that would have to be Trish; I can just see her bouncing along on the back of a large overfed pony, can’t you?”

I couldn’t actually, Meems perhaps, Livvie possibly, even Billy, but not Trish. Billy–why had a said that? What am I thinking? I felt myself blushing.

“Something wrong?” asked Stella.

“No,” I replied shaking the idea from my head, “I took Billy riding this afternoon.”

“I take it he enjoyed it?”

“He wants to go again tomorrow.”

“You know he’s out polishing his new bike?”

I glanced out of the window, “That’s a novelty that won’t last.”

“Yes, but it must be nice to have a mum who can ride with him and fix his bike when he needs help.”

“Are you being sarcastic?” I asked because I couldn’t pick up on her tone.

“Strange question,” she gave me a funny look, “no, I wasn’t, I thought it was rather nice for both of you–I mean, he takes after you more than his dad.”

“What?” I gasped.

“He looks more like you than he does Simon, and he’s quieter than Danny, who is a real boy.”

“Oh my goodness–are you implying he’s a bit feminine?”

“Yeah, I suppose I am–yeah, he’s a bit girly in some ways, isn’t he?”

“Oh shit–what am I going to do?”

“Do? Do about what?”

“About Billy–he can’t stay here.”

“I thought you’d adopted him?”

“Not quite–no, he can’t stay.”

“Cathy, calm down–now what are you babbling on about?”

“I can’t have another transgender child here, someone will say something and they’ll think it’s all my fault.”

“Who said he was transgendered?”

“You did.”

“I most certainly did not, what I said was he’s a bit girly.”

“Well, that’s what they used to say about me.” I absently stirred the sauce and turned the heat down.

“In your case, you were a girl–so what’s the problem.”

“I wasn’t supposed to be though, was I? Not until you got your hands on me.”

“If I remember, a certain little boy, and he was little, told me he was taking hormones because he was growing tits–so don’t lay that one on me, missus.”

“I don’t want Billy to follow in my path.”

“He doesn’t even know, does he?”

“No–but you know what I mean–over identification in a house full of women.”

“Over identification of what?”

“The female role.”

“What about Tom and Simon, and Leon, plus Danny? They’re male, aren’t they?”

“But Simon and Leon are only here at weekends.”

“He’s in school most of the week, he’ll have plenty of role models there, plus–isn’t all this supposed to happen before he’s four years old to have a marked effect upon him?”

“Is it?”

“I think so; gender roles and identity develop quite young. I mean, when did you realise you were a girl?”

“I was four or five, I think.”

“There you go then.”

“But what if he’s gay or something?”

“So what? If he is you’ll have nothing to worry about will you?” She winked at me and realised I hadn’t thought it was funny.

“They’ll all accuse me of causing it.”

“Cathy, I thought it was pretty well proven that you can’t catch homosexuality from someone else. It isn’t a disease. It’s probably a genetic thing.”

“God, I hope so.”

“I thought you were well informed on all these things?”

“It’s different when it’s your family.”

“No it isn’t–the same mechanisms will apply, and besides, he’s your adopted child, you got him with all his baggage, and so far I think you’ve done a good job on all of them.”

“Have I? I do wonder.”

“Cathy, stop doubting yourself–you’re a good parent and excellent mother, just because you didn’t want to drive a flash motor, doesn’t mean you’re bad.”

“No, but I bought him a girl’s bike.”

“So? Does he know?”

“Yes–I had to tell him.”

“So, he’s hardly gonna catch transsexualism from a bike saddle–is he?”

“I s’pose not.”

“Here comes Simon with Julie.” Stella was looking through the kitchen window and watched Simon park his car and the two of them walk towards the house: moments later they came in through the back door and then into the kitchen.

“Hi, Mummy, Auntie Stella.”

“Hello, sweetheart,” I gave her a hug.

“Um–that smells good, I’m starvin’, hardly had time to do anythin’ today. I’ve done fifteen shampoos–look at me ‘ands, they’re red raw.”

I passed her some hand cream, which she smoothed on to her slightly pink skin. Stella looked at me and sniggered–“Now that’s girly,” she said and I laughed as well.

“What’s so funny?” asked Simon.

“Nothing–it was something we were talking about earlier.”

“Where’s Puddin’?” he asked Stella.

“Trish and Meems were looking after her, why?”

“I wondered what they were burying in the garden–that’s all.”

“What?” she shrieked and ran down the garden.

Simon stood and roared with laughter, “Serves her right, the lazy cow.”

“What does?” I asked with a little irritation.

“She’s got one kid to look after to your six, and she dumps it on anyone she can, even a blessed six year old.” He looked towards Julie, “Enjoy your ride home?”

“Yeah, it was brill, Daddy.”

“See–some people in this house can appreciate a decent car when they see one.” Before I could pour half a gallon of hot sauce down his trousers he waltzed out of the kitchen and into the lounge, followed by Julie with my hand cream.

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