Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 668 by Angharad

The afternoon was spent comforting Livvie and trying to cheer up my two girls, who frankly, seemed more upset than our guest did. She changed into her shorts and tee shirt and wanted to go out on the bike, so with some reluctance, Trish did the same. Mima, seemed all cried out and fell into a sleep on the sofa. I wondered if it raised questions about her real mother, especially as we didn’t know if she was alive or dead.

While I wasn’t complaining, fostering is a problem. It meant I got to play mummy to some kids, but, theoretically, they could be removed from me at a moment’s notice. Then there was the problem of Trish’s little anatomical difficulty. What would Livvie say if she saw it or suspected anything? Given her almost dismissive response to the news of her mother’s death and father’s arrest for manslaughter, I wouldn’t like to predict anything about the girl. I would try and spend some time with her over the next few days and see if I could encourage her to open her barriers and let us in, as a family.

I suppose the bottom line is that she integrates into our household and family, or she goes somewhere else. Integrating means accepting Trish for who she says she is. As for what I do with my career? That looks as if it’s on hold for the foreseeable future. I don’t know how I feel about it? I was set to become a leading mammal researcher and now, it looks like sorting out three waifs and strays have become the priority. I need to talk with Simon and Tom as soon as we can all get together, probably after the kids are in bed.

I set to making a light dinner. I wasn’t very hungry, too rapt in my childcare worries. Stella came down and found me in the kitchen preparing chicken breasts.

“Well, our little visitor doesn’t seem to be to upset about being half an orphan, does she?”

“It could be that the reality hasn’t penetrated beneath her defences, yet.” I carried on rolling them in breadcrumbs after dipping them in egg.

“Hmm, that smells nice, what is it?”

“That’s beaten egg, the rest is breadcrumbs with garlic and a few herbs, plus some pepper and a little salt.”

She sniffed over the breadcrumbs. “I thought breadcrumbs for cooking were orange coloured?”

“Not if you make them yourself.”

“Oh, you are a clever dick, aren’t you?”

“Actually no, that’s one thing I can’t be accused of.” I laughed as I said this and she groaned.

“You know perfectly well what I mean, you silly twat.”

“That I can accept; and yes I do know.” I poked out my tongue and she laughed. “Put the kettle on, will ya?”

Once I’d coated the chicken breasts in oil and shoved them in the oven, we settled to drink our tea. “Where’s Simon?” I knew he was in the house.

“I think he’s been using the study, sort of working.”

“Oh, I wonder if he wants a cuppa?” I got up and went into the study, Simon was on the phone. I made a T shape with my hands and he nodded and gave me a thumbs up.

I poured him a cup and took it into him, he was just putting the phone down. “I’ve been talking to our advocate in Edinburgh.”

“Advocate?” I asked.

“Yeah, lawyer, expert in Scottish law and so on, bloody good golfer, too.”

“And?”

“He seems to think that if Tony Richards asks you officially to foster his child, the law will rubber stamp it.”

“Until he wants her back?”

“Don’t think it’s that straightforward, especially if we make a case that she thinks he killed her mother and is frightened of him.”

“I don’t think she’s frightened of him, more she feels unloved by him,” I mused.

“I’m not too worried about the exactitudes, rather that we get her a stable family to live with.”

“What a group of horses?” I gasped.

He shook his head, “Cathy, don’t take everything so literally, will you? You know what I mean, a stable family…”

“Like us?”

“Yes, why…why are you laughing?” he began to go red probably with embarrassed anger.

“Stable, we’re all bloody nutcases. I mean, you’re a rich eccentric, Stella is barking, I’m transsexual so is Trish and Mima may be nearly normal.”

“What about Tom? You forgot him.”

“Tom is the archetypal nutty professor.”

“So you think little Livvie will fit right in then?”

“Probably. We’re far from normal, but at least we’ll show her some affection.”

“Absolutely. Let’s face it, it’s either that or a children’s home or fostering with people she doesn’t know.” He paused to drink his tea. “This is good, did you make it?”

“Yes I did, why?”

“Well normally you make tea like gnat’s pee, this is almost drinkable.”

“I don’t like it too strong,” I protested.

“Weak hardly describes it, helpless might be more appropriate.”

“I suppose you don’t like my cooking either then?”

“Why? what are we having tonight?”

“As I can’t be trusted making tea, let alone baked chicken breasts.”

“Ooh,” he gasped, can we have chips with them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh please, I love your chicken breasts.”

I looked down at my chest, “Oh, I though my boobs were okay.”

“You know what I mean, I’ll put the girls to bed if you make chips, and proper ones not those oven things.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“So are we going to take on Livvie?”

“We have a choice?” I asked.

“In principle, yes, but she’s already indicated she wants to come here.” He shrugged, “I think we’re out voted.”

“Look, I’m not running a children’s home, so this is the last waif we take in. I want to keep some sort of career in sight.”

“I hate to say it, but when we marry, things will get better and worse.”

“Oh, how so?” I asked wondering if I could do a runner.

“Well, you’d be able to employ helps around the house, but you’d also be expected to do certain things like opening fetes and hosting dinner parties.”

“What, just ‘cos I married you?”

“Yep,” he smiled.

“Maybe we’ll stay engaged until the girls are grown up?” I hypothesised.

“You’re breaking my heart,” he said, pretending to cry.

“Go on, yours is made of flint, albeit ten carat, and those tears are crocodile if not alligator.”

“You’re a hard woman, Cathy Watts.”

“So you keep telling me. I wonder if the girls would like chips?”

“I do love, you, though,” he said smiling insincerely. As they say, a way to a man’s heart…

I finished the dinner a bit later. Everyone said yes to chips–I can’t understand the attraction–now chocolate, that’s different.

After dinner, I cleared up and asked Trish and Livvie to help me. They carried stuff out to the kitchen and after I rinsed off the dishes, Trish put them in the machine.

“Would you like me to find out if there’s any news on your daddy?” I enquired.

“No thank you, Auntie Ca… can I call, you, Mummy, now?”

I blushed, “I um, don’t know if it’s a bit too soon for that, Livvie. I mean your real mother has hardly been dead a day yet.”

“Yes, but you’re more like a real mummy than she was.”

“I think you should show her a little more respect than that, Livvie. She was your mother, after all.”

“I told you, she thought I was a nuisance, and so did he. He preferred to be with his girlfriend than stay with Mummy and me. She thought it was because of me, and hated me for it. I hated both of them.” There wasn’t a tear to be seen, what had they done to this kid?

“Will you hate me too, if I fail you?”

“I don’t know what you mean, but I see the way you love Trish and Mima and they aren’t even your children.”

“Only by birth, we love each other like a family.”

“Can you love me, too?” Now came some tears, “or am I unloveable?”

I held her in a huge hug, “No, darling, we love you here, welcome to your new family.”

“Thank you, Mummy.”

I felt myself wince slightly and blush, “You’re welcome, my child.” She hugged me tightly and sobbed.