The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1069 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

We hung the bridal gown in Stella’s room, as it was less likely to meet with prying eyes. They were all playing in the garden when we got home and we got the most cursory of welcomes–a wave from one or two of the girls as we walked from the car to the house.

In the cold light of day, we examined the dress and could find nothing wrong with it at all–the old lady who’d sold it to us told us they’d had it cleaned, so I felt really pleased with it. We placed it in a dress bag and hung it in Stella’s wardrobe and then after putting on some jeans and checking my sore toes, went out to see what was going on in the orchard.

They were all looking for something–it turned out to be Leon’s watch, it had fallen off his wrist while he was carrying stuff to the compost heap and he wasn’t sure where. It was one his mum had given him so it had enormous sentimental value. Sighing, I joined the hunt.

I rarely went into the orchard, too many stinging nettles and so on, but before long the kids had me identifying caterpillars and wild flowers. Danny even caught a grass snake by the compost heap before I could warn him to watch out for its stink glands. European grass snakes can bite but they’re not venomous unlike the adder or viper. Their main defence is to secrete absolutely stinking fluid which you don’t want to get on you or your clothing–Danny achieved both.

I sent him indoors and made him chuck his clothes in a bucket of soapy water and to go and shower until he smelt normal again. In the end, Tom went and borrowed a metal detector from a friend and even then it took over half an hour to find it. Thankfully it was still working.

Dinner time, I ordered an Indian meal for the others–which Simon and Tom thought was wonderful. Stella had some, but I made do with a sandwich, being still full of profiteroles and steak and ale pie. I also thought I might want to wear that dress again in a month or so and I needed to keep my weight stable if not lose a few pounds. I told Billie, we’d be riding most mornings but early–she rolled her eyes and grinned. Trish wanted in as well but her bike was too small to keep up with us. I tried her on Billie’s old MTB, and thought if I replaced the tyres it would be easier for her to ride.

So taking her with me, we set off for the supermarket and hopefully some new tyres, which I could fit and give her a bit more opportunity to ride at a more reasonable speed.

We drove past Paget’s Cycles (est. 1976) and the lights were all on. I stopped the car and told Trish to stay put in the locked car. I squinted through the window and two or three men were removing bikes–and what looked like good bikes. I called the police, and then noticed a mobile number on the front door. I called that and asked if they were having workmen in over the weekend.

“Workmen–no, why?”

“Because there’s a gang of men removing bikes.”

“Are you for real?”

“Yes, it’s Cathy Cameron, you’ve sold me and my family several bikes.”

“Oh yes, I remember you now.”

“I’ve called the police, but I thought you might want to know.”

“I’m on my way.”

I ran round the block there was a large transit van parked outside and they were loading bikes into it. I made Trish get out of my car and parked it in the middle of the lane so the van couldn’t leave by one end.

Sirens wailing introduced the police and I sent them down to the other end of the lane. The van was intercepted and two of the three men were caught. The third came running up the lane and seemed to fall over something, it might have been my foot, I seem to be careless with them these days. I sat on him and a breathless policeman came trotting up behind, “I’m getting too old for this,” he puffed.

The owner of the shop arrived a short time later. I helped him unload the van and to catalogue with the police what the robbers had tried to steal. It took us a good half an hour.

“How can I ever thank you, Mrs Cameron?”

“Well, this is going to sound bizarre, but I was just going to the supermarket to see if they had some tyres for a child’s MTB.”

“I’m sure we have some somewhere.”

“Actually, what I’d really like is a road bike to fit her ladyship,” I nodded at Trish.

“Oh,” he almost blanched as he took on board what I’d said.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m happy to pay, but if I could take it with me tonight because I’m taking one of my other girls out for a ride tomorrow, and she wants to come as well.”

“I’ve got an ATB boxed upstairs, but I haven’t got time to assemble it tonight–I have to wait for the locksmith to come and repair the back door.”

“That’s fine, if you have one in her size, I’ll assemble it–no problem.”

“You know a bit about bikes then?”

“Enough to assemble one, yes.”

“Mummy has her own workshop and she’s making some wheels for her bike.”

“You build your own wheels?”

“Yes.”

“Unusual for a woman.”

“My mummy’s a lady,” piped Trish.

“Yes, I know that, young un.”

“She’s Lady Cameron.”

“Lady Cameron?” the bikeshop man looked confused.

“Yes, she’s Lady Catherine Cameron, aren’t you, Mummy?”

“The dormouse lady?”

I blushed and nodded.

“Of course you are, you look different to your film.”

Well that was a backhanded compliment if ever I heard one. “Probably, I’m not wearing shorts am I?”

“Nor the mini skirt,” he had a faraway look for a moment. “Just what are you looking for?”

“A bike that Trish can use to come with us tomorrow, she has a Barbie thing at present.”

“What about a trailer bike?”

“I have one of those, all it does is slow me down.”

“How old are you, missy?” he asked Trish.

“Six, why?”

“They really don’t do much more than an ATB for kids her age, a road bike would be too expensive. You could put road tyres on it.”

“I’ve already got one she could use, twenty inch wheels. If you have some high pressure tyres for one of those...?”

“Not really, but I do have road tyres.”

“I’ll leave it. Thanks anyway.”

“She’s just too small for standard equipment.”

“I’ll have to think about building her a bike.”

“Even that would pose a challenge, let me know if we can help–if you still want those tyres?”

“I’ll take some–but I insist on paying for them.”

“Pop by sometime then and we’ll settle up, thanks for saving my stock.”

“Bikes are sacred, this was like robbing a bookshop or a church.”

He laughed, “You certainly have your priorities right, Lady Cameron.”

“My friends call me Cathy.”

“I’m Roger.” We shook hands and I left with my tyres.

“Where have you been?” demanded Simon.

“Getting some tyres for a bike.”

“That took nearly two hours?”

“Well there were two tyres.” I joked but he didn’t seem to share my humour.

“We were worried sick, given the recent events, couldn’t you have phoned?”

“I’m sorry, Si, the bikeshop was having a few problems.”

“Bikeshop? They close at five thirty...”

“Mummy an’ me caught some baddies robbin’ the bike shop.”

“Cathy–is this true?”

“I just need to do these tyres, can you put her to bed?” I said and slipped out the door.