The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1274 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“And you say, Danny dumped the whole trifle over his head? I wish I’d been there,” Simon had chuckled several times as we sat drinking a cup of hot chocolate before going to bed.

“Perhaps it’s as well you weren’t, you might have used more force and had the police involved. Because it was a child who assaulted him, if he brought a case it would give the journalists something to play with.”

“Yes, but then your past would be all stirred up again and then the kids would be upset and teased–so maybe it’s better it all happened relatively quietly.”

“I don’t trust him, now he knows I’m down here, it wouldn’t take too long to find me and being retired, he’d have plenty of time to find me.”

“Us, to find us, Babes, if he shows up here, I’ll happily rearrange his face.”

“What would that achieve?”

“It would make me feel better.”

“But not me, and as I’m the injured party, I’d prefer to let things lie.”

“That’s what you did before and look what happened–besides, he lives next door to Gareth–once he finds out Stella’s name is Cameron, it won’t take any time to find you. Maybe you should go for wipeout?”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“That book, photocopy some of it, it shows how unpleasant he was and how resistant to his coercion you were. If he goes for publicity, so do we, but he’s the one who’ll end up in court for his abuse of you as a school kid.”

“Would that work after all this time–and my father agreed to it–without realising quite what he was agreeing to.”

“I’ve got a legal eagle I can run it past tomorrow and see what she says.”

“She?” I was quite surprised as most top barristers are men.

“Yes, Hermione Sheridan.”

“Hermione?” I said and burst out laughing. “Who is so unpleasant that they call their daughter, Hermione?”

“It suits her, and she’s a top hole silk–don’t mock her, you could live to regret it.”

“But isn’t the fact that I subsequently became a woman going to spoil our case, that it was no hardship but a gift to play at being a woman in public?”

“I don’t know, at that stage did you know you were really female?”

“In lots of ways, yes and so did Siân, so if she testifies we’re stuck.”

“Not necessarily, if he was forcing you to do it and getting off on the humiliation, which is what Whitehead’s book suggests, then he’s in shite–that’s abuse of children and of his responsibilities as a teacher and a head teacher. Hell, it’s neglect of his position as an adult, and only Whitehead and one or two others spoke out about it? That is so bad. I mean, it wasn’t in nineteen fifty, this was the nineteen nineties. The man is a criminal.”

“Okay, if he starts anything it would be nice to have something to slap him with.”

“I know how I’d like to slap him,” Simon punched his right fist into his left hand.

“Simon, that is only going to get you into trouble, we need to appear squeaky clean and reasonable, he’s the one who has to prove things.”

“He can prove you were a boy–that could cause us loads of grief.”

“That’s the only thing, and it’s old news. I can’t be prosecuted for it, he could.”

“I’ll speak to Hermi tomorrow, but I tell you this, if he upsets the children or they get very teased about this, I’ll destroy him.”

“Simon, you are not to touch him.” I felt that he hadn’t been listening to me.

“I won’t, I’ll just point the debt department at him and tell them to find something, even if it’s only an overdue library book. They can usually find enough to prove he’s been fiddling his tax or something equally prosecutable. Then when he’s dealt with that we hit him with the next thing, or we sue him and suck him dry.”

“I don’t know, I’d much prefer we hold a big stick over him and tell him to behave without having to do too much about it.”

“You told Stella about him?”

“Oh yes, she knows the lot.”

“And she’ll tell Gareth, and he can tell Mr Mint, that he’s just been sucked, or words to that effect–I’m beginning to be glad that he lives next door to Gareth, so we can keep an eye on him.”

“Oh hi, you two, why aren’t you in bed?” asked Stella as she flounced through the kitchen.

“We were talking about Gareth’s neighbour.”

“Oh him, stupid old git, mind you I wish I’d seen Danny sweeten him up a little.” We all sniggered at the thought.

“Does he own his house?” asked Simon.

“Why?”

“Because Simon is looking to make his life interesting,” I explained.

“Oh, bully boy gets bullied, couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. Well I don’t know about you two but I’m going to bed. ’Night.”

“Where’s Pud?” asked Simon after Stella had gone upstairs.

“Julie’s been babysitting for her.”

“Oh, about time she did something useful.”

“She’s learning to be a hairdresser and beautician.”

“Lot of good that’ll do me.”

“You selfish old sod, she’s learning for her sake not yours. I want her to be able to stand on her own two feet when she’s a bit older.”

“I see, so you’re not going to buy her a shop?”

“Meeee? I don’t have that sort of money.”

“But you might try to persuade me into doing it?”

“Simon, you’re a big boy now, you make your own decisions–Mummy is going to bed.” I pecked him on the cheek and went up the stairs to our room.

The next morning, I took the children out for a drive–the weather wasn’t too good but it didn’t rain all the time. We ended up at Bournemouth and had a walk along the front. The sea air was bracing to say the least.

“Mummy, wez Weymuff?”

“Where’s Weymouth?” I checked my translation. “Just along the coast, why?”

“They’s got the ‘Lympics there next year.” Mima was pleased with her revelation.

“Yes I know, the sailing and sail-boarding is there.”

“Gosh, is it?” asked Trish oblivious to the fact it hadn’t been news except for all the road works that were going on there.

“Can we go there sometime?” asked Livvie.

“If you like, but you can’t see anything of where the sailing will happen because it’s half a mile out to sea.”

“Can we go to the Olympics?”

“I don’t know sweetheart, it’s very expensive and I’d rather watch Bradley Wiggins bum clad in very tight lycra go round a velodrome than some speck of a boat a mile away if I did go to the Olympics. But Weymouth is a traffic black spot, worse than Bournemouth and this is bad enough. C’mon, let’s get a drink of something and see about sorting dinner.

“Is Danny playing football?” asked Livvie as if she’d suddenly realised he wasn’t with us?”

“That’s what he told me.”

“What else could he be doing?” asked Trish of her sister.

“I don’t know, do I?” Livvie snapped back.

“Hey you two, no squabbling.”

The both sulked for half the journey back but when I put some music on, they were soon singing along with it.

“Why didn’t Billie come with us?”

“She was helping Stella take some stuff out to Gareth’s house.” When I’d reminded Stella of her neighbour, she thought it was funny that there’d be another gender bender under his nose and he’d be none the wiser.

I’d been a bit more circumspect but Stella had assured me that she’d take care of her niece as would Gareth, so Billie was in no danger whatsoever. I hoped she was right, but Billie had nagged me to let her go–they were measuring carpets and curtains in the old house to see what was reusable in the new one. I told her to buy new but she said Gareth was into recycling things.

Oh well, I suppose it takes all sorts.