The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1180 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Simon appeared whilst I was talking with Julie. “What the hell has been going on?”

“Julie got shot as I was taking her home.”

“How?” he looked bewildered.

“She spotted Alfie Bird as we were driving home, I could see he had something in his hand, but I didn’t see what. It turned out to be a gun and he managed to get off one round as I clipped him with the car. Turns out he used to be a wrestler and stuntman, so he escaped most of the car.”

“Should have let Stella drive.”

“At that stage I didn’t want to kill him.” I shrugged, well, I didn’t–obviously the blue light stuff is softening my brain.

“How’s my girl?” he said to Julie.

“Better now you’re here, Daddy,” she played him like a natural daughter.

“I’ve done some work on the wound which is healing very quickly.”

“So when can she come home?” he gave Julie a hug.

“That’s not up to me.”

“Okay, I’ll get the security people back. The garage is sending someone over to sort your car, so I’ll take you back.” He wandered out of the room to make some calls and he came back a few minutes later, “All sorted. You,” he pointed at Julie, “behave yourself, don’t talk to any strange men, especially those carrying guns.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she said meekly while batting her eyelashes at him, I glared at her but she didn’t look at me.

By the time we left, the bodyguard chap was there, about the size of a brick sh...you get the idea, he was big he made Simon look small and he’s six foot tall. “I don’t think I’d like to keep him for long,” I muttered to Simon.

“Is that for feeding purposes or sex?” he shot back.

“Eh? Either I suppose, having that lying on top of me would probably crush me to death, but I was actually meaning feeding him. He looks like he might just manage one of those huge steaks they have in Texas, or wherever it is, seventy two pounds or inches or something like that. If you can eat it all in an hour, they give it to you. Very few succeed.”

“How do you know about that?”

“It was on the Today programme one morning while I was taking the girls to school, and I saw something on the internet the other day which reminded me.”

“That is one big steak, I think I’ve seen lighter fence posts.” Simon smirked at his own joke and I slapped him on his arm. Down in the car park, the garage were collecting my car on a suspended tow. At least I hoped it was the garage, because otherwise it was being stolen. It needed some work to the offside front and door and a new glass in the driver’s door. There was also the issue of the blood over much of the front passenger seat.

I got in the Jaguar with Simon and he told me they were sending a loan car to the house this evening, but he wasn’t sure what it was. We drove out of the hospital and I kept a very wary eye on the traffic, but no one jumped us or tried to close in on us.

“So, do we know why this Alfie bloke is trying to kill, you two?” Simon asked as he slowed down at traffic lights.

“Presumably because someone told him to.”

“I’d got that far already. Do we know who?”

“No, not unless the police have made some progress. I got a hate letter this morning telling me they were going to kill Julie, but not why. I can’t believe it’s because she forgot to return her library books.”

“CD or DVD?” he suggested smirking again.

“Nah, the council is strapped for cash, hiring hit men usually costs money. I really can’t think why they would pursue her so doggedly.”

“What, the council? Don’t they usually send in bailiffs not psychos if you owe them money?” Simon asked rhetorically.

“Look, if they were allowed to kill people, they’d be doing it to those who were on housing lists or use social services.”

“Like foster parents?” he said smiling.

“We own the others, she’s the only fostered one now–oh.” I wanted to hit him for outmanoeuvring me, but he was driving again, I’ll hit him later. “Let’s be serious, because this is far too important to joke about.”

“Okay, what do we know?” asked Simon, stopping at another set of lights.

“Not very much, only that Alfie Bird seems to have been engaged to kill her, and he’s indisposed.”

“Whose fault is that?”

“He did come in with a gun and was intent on killing us both.”

“If he was a stuntman, he can’t have been a very good one, can he?”

“Why–he survived my efforts to run him down? That’s pretty impressive in my book.”

“But when you whacked him with that stand he should have been able to roll with that, they do in the films.”

“Simon, the nurse had just thrown a hot cup of tea over his head, I hit him when he wasn’t looking, the stuntmen in films work to careful choreographies or they do get hurt, occasionally killed.”

“But aren’t wrestlers supposed to be able to cope with a little pain and still function?” Simon still wasn’t buying it that I disabled this human mountain called Alfie Bird.

“I hit him quite hard, then kicked him in the jaw, plus he banged his head on the bedstead. I think most wrestlers would find that combination difficult to deal with–he had a suspected fracture of the skull and I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he’d broken his jaw on my shoe.”

He looked down at my feet, “It’s a trainer, for God’s sake not a toe-tector thing.”

“Yes, darling, but my foot was in it at the time–it makes all the difference.” I wriggled my toes, my foot was hurting a little, probably bruised over the instep.

“Okay, so you zapped him, fortunately for all concerned. Surely, walking into a hospital to shoot someone is a pretty kamikaze thing to do.”

“No more than trying to crash a car into another. Even if they’d succeeded, they could have been hurt as well, it’s all high risk stuff, and there was no guarantee they’d kill their intended targets.”

“Dunno, if the intention was to get you into hospital if not the morgue, then maybe they had ways of finishing you off in hospital--overdose of insulin–that sort of thing.”

“And we’ve just left our daughter there–perhaps we’d better get her home?” I said anxiously.

“She’ll be alright, they’re not going to try again so soon, are they?”

“I don’t know, it could catch everyone napping.”

“Look, the Jolly Green Giant at her door will stop anyone from harming her.”

“Not if it’s someone who looks official, like a nurse or doctor?”

“You don’t seriously think that could happen do you?”

“It could, and won’t they be busy guarding Alfie, so our poor Julie could be vulnerable.”

“Why would they be watching Alfie?” Simon looked at me.

“So they can question him when he comes to.”

“He’ll just plead amnesia, or the voices; besides if they knock him off, it would do everyone a favour.”

“That’s not very Christian, Simon.”

“Ha, coming from the president of the Richard Dawkins fan club that is very rich.”

“You know what I meant,” I prodded him. “Now, can we turn back and check on Julie?”

“What for, The Incredible Hulk is guarding her, so why not just say hello to the other children in your life and get a shower and some food.”

“But I’m worried, Si. I have this awful feeling,” I rubbed my solar plexus.

“Yeah, it’s called wind–have a fart, you’ll feel better.”