The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1142 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The next few days were filled with mundane matters such as caring for the children, I never did go back to Toby’s house because I kept thinking about the man who got shot. Should I have tried to save him? I felt quite guilty about it all.

The police were frequent visitors: they explained that the games teacher and a gang of accomplices had been smuggling diamonds from West Africa for a couple of years. The usual method was in footwear, usually sports shoes or boots, where they attached them to a false insole

Through his connections the games master had set up a series of sports groups who invited teams of athletes to this country from Africa. Each team had a mule or carrier of the contraband diamonds, and their boots would be exchanged for new ones, the old ones being ‘loaded’ with diamonds.

Most of the athletes invited over were genuine, as were most of the people inviting them, and the inviters helped, coaching and supplying their visitors with new kit or equipment–so lots of good came from it.

Bailey wasn’t the brains behind it–he wasn’t clever enough–but was a major player in the group, being the one who supposedly felt passionate about the lack of resources people in the Congo and other African states had to suffer. He helped to create the groups in this country of footballers, basketball players, together with track and field athletes who set up the support groups and genuinely wanted to help their fellow athletes in Africa.

As they say it’s an ill wind which doesn’t do someone some good. This was an ill wind okay, of cynical abusers of a system which dealt in blood diamonds, smuggled out from countries split by civil wars or invasions by militias to pay for weapons and other items the various factions needed to pursue their illegal or immoral aims and murderous activities.

I vividly recalled hearing an interview with a woman who’d been raped and forced to watch her whole family slaughtered–it made me feel a mixture of outrage and compassion. I sent some money but now it seemed I’d done something more direct–I’d stopped, or at least slowed down some of those dealing in blood diamonds. I’m not naíve enough to believe I make more than a ripple on the pond, but every bit helps.

The man who got shot trying to stab me was eventually identified as the gardener’s brother in law, a Wayne Wykeham–when I heard his name I thought it might explain his antisocial behaviour.

According to the plod, he was a long time loser–drug and alcohol abuser, dabbling in petty crime, assault and prostitution, with convictions for all of these. His departure from the scene wouldn’t be missed by many, although it annoyed me that we write people off in their teens when we should be trying to rehabilitate them. End of sermon.

I saw Dr Thomas because I felt I needed to discuss my past few weeks. She seemed to think I was doing alright considering the stress I was under. When I revealed I killed someone, she was visibly shocked–she calmed down when I explained what had happened.

“Why didn’t you just wait for the police to resolve the problem?”

“I was worried for Simon, and also for Toby, given that they’d already stabbed him once–if he was the target, he could have already been dying in his own house.”

“You seem to take awful risks, Cathy, which is very much more boy behaviour than girl.”

“I do what I feel is necessary when those I love are threatened.”

“Like any other lioness, eh?”

“If you say so.”

After I spoke with the school, where a tribute to Reg Edwards was being planned, Danny was reinstated. He wasn’t overly pleased to go back there until he discovered he had a bit of a following after his fight and suspension.

Talking of the erstwhile deputy head, it seemed he was an innocent in the diamond business, and his first encounter with it proved to be his last. It seemed his gardener had built a few cavities in the sides of his fishpond, and given that diamonds are virtually indestructible, they could stay there indefinitely.

The money was payment for a small shipment they had sent out. They had contacts in the UK and European gems industries and seemed to move their merchandise about the place with minimal notice by police or customs and excise.

Once things settled down I seemed to go into a lethargy or depression, doing just enough to keep the kids and house clean and tidy, but not a lot else. Simon was convinced it was a reaction to the shooting of that man. I felt it was just a general staleness.

In the end, I took the baby and went off to Bristol for a few days while he got Jenny to look after the others, himself included while I was away.

I had a paid cleaner to keep an eye on the place–my house in Bristol, I mean, and her husband kept the garden in reasonable care, so it didn’t look empty.

When the girls found out I was going to Bristol they were quite upset, but when I explained it was only for a couple or three nights, they seemed happier–notice I said happier, they certainly weren’t happy–Trish almost implying that it was tantamount to child neglect.

Once we arrived, I made myself a cuppa and fed my boob-sucker, who then gurgled and cooed as I showed her round the place, before throwing up as we came down the stairs. It took me over an hour to clean it up while she sat and bounced in her recliner, making encouraging noises. I did manage to keep my temper, and after eating and reading, had an early night. I fed the demon before bed and she seemed to sleep most of the night, waking at seven.

I didn’t know if was the fact that I was home which helped me to sleep, or if it was just the break from the stress at home. I did things like spring cleaning, even thought it was October and really autumn. The weather was dry and sunny with a stiff breeze, so I washed loads of bedding and dried it. I cleaned carpets as well, with a machine I hired from a local shop. The dirt that came out of them with the steam cleaner thing, was frightening, especially as they didn’t look dirty to begin with. The stair carpet was the dirtiest and it looked brand new after I’d finished.

I used up some items in the freezer, which together with some fresh veg made a tasty stew and that was converted to a rich stock and subsequently a pan of soup after it met with my hand blender, being delicious with the bread I made in the machine I’d bought to take my father loaves in hospital.

The thought of that made me feel his loss again, and that made me think about Mum, and by the time I went to bed that night, I was really down in the dumps. However during the night, I had a dream in which my mother told me to count my blessings and to care for my baby and other children, not feel sorry for myself.

I awoke with a strong recollection of the dream, and considered my wrist well and truly slapped. We went home the next day with a little more energy and commitment, at least from me if not the baby–well, there’s always one isn’t there?