The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1277 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Did the Red Queen see your argument?” I asked sleepily as Simon got into bed.

“Not really, unless you consider her saying, ‘Orff with her head,’ every couple of minutes, counts as agreement.

“I need to sleep now, darling,” I said and turned over with my back to him, he put his arm round my waist and kissed me on the back of the neck.

When I awoke, it was barely getting light and I’d had a horrible dream of Stella, who’d turned into an ogress, locking me into a tower and saying she wouldn’t release me until I’d made curtains for all the windows in her palace. When I’d finished that, there was some straw and a spinning wheel to make gold, so she could pay for the material. I looked and saw bolts of material and an ancient sewing machine with a treadle. I glanced out through the bars of my cell and saw the palace had hundreds of windows. I shouted after her, “What’s the pension plan like?” which is probably what woke me up and Simon woke too.

“What?” he asked looking at me prising open my eyelids.

“Eh?” I replied.

“You said something about a pension plan.”

“Did I?”

“Yes you did, what was that about?”

“How do I know, I was asleep then, I’m awake now.”

“That figures–wanna shag?”

“Have you been taking lessons in love making from Australians?”

“No, why?”

“Well, the old joke says that’s an Aussie man’s idea of foreplay.”

“Foreplay? Wassat then?” he pretended to look naive and it made me chuckle which reminded me I needed to wee. Before he could grab me, I slipped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. After the necessary, I striped off my pyjamas–yes pyjamas–real women do wear them, and got in the shower, where a few minutes later my handsome hubby joined me. It’s a very long time since we’ve done that in the shower–washing each other’s hair, what did you think I meant? Oh that, nah it would use up all the hot water, wouldn’t it?

I roused Julie but let the others sleep, they were on half-term holiday, she had to go to work and she grumbled about it all through breakfast. As she left, she said, “D’ya know anythin’ about keratin?”

“Keratin? It’s what skin is made of isn’t it?”

“Yeah, and hair and nails and feathers and ‘orse’s ‘ooves–I gotta do an essay for college on it.”

“I’m sure you’ll find plenty on the internet, get Trish to help you.”

“Thassan idea. See ya later.” She pecked me on the cheek and slammed the door. A few minutes later her scooter thing was putt-putting down the drive. I’d forgotten to remind her she had another driving lesson this evening, so I sent her a text. I know she’s seventeen and still needs to have her nose and bum wiped, which Simon complains about. I remind him he’s over thirty and still needs it too. That usually shuts him up for a bit.

He kissed me and then left for work, I could say the Jaguar roared down the drive and I heard its throaty exhaust as it went into the distance–but it would be a lie. It’s a pretty nippy piece of kit, but it doesn’t roar, it has quite a quiet engine.

I was about to get the kids up when Daddy came back with the dog–he’d been walking her as he does most mornings. “Whaur’s a’body?”

“Si and Jules have gone to work and the rest are in bed.”

“I thocht it wis quiet.”

“Like it used to be before I moved in and brought in half the children of Portsmouth to stay with us?”

“Aye, a wee bitty–no, I prefer it like it is th’ noo.”

“Nearly caught you,” I said and sniggered before kissing his grizzled face.

“Ye scunner,” he said drily and poured himself some of his black sludge coffee.

Looking at it I said, “You know, BP were producing stuff like that off the coast of Louisiana,” and smiled sweetly at him.

“Och were they noo, in which case, there widnae be ony survivors, sae I think it micht hae been somethin’ else, mebbe.” His eyes twinkled and he took his coffee through to his study along with my Guardian. How does he always manage to grab the newspaper first?

The next hour was spent dealing with the nutritional requirements of half a dozen children and Stella. Puddin’ came down by herself, Stella had obviously left the gate open, I sat her in her high chair–Puddin’ not Stella–do pay attention, and gave her a piece of the toast I’d just made. She grabbed it and started chewing hungrily upon it.

When Stella did come down, she was frantic. “Okay, who opened the gate on my bedroom door?” she looked accusingly at all of us.

“I’m not sure it was any of us, Stella,” I said protectively.

“Oh so you’re accusing me, are you?” she snapped back.

“No, but I can’t think of any reason why we would.”

“Vandalism doesn’t seem to need a motive.”

“Since when were you a criminologist?”

“Oh that’s right, if you can’t win an argument go off at a tangent.”

“Which is what you’ve just done,” I answered her back.

“Really, you just can’t wait to be rid of us, can you? Well don’t you dare harm my baby–because if you do, I’ll make you sorry.” She snatched Puddin’ out of the high chair and dashed back upstairs.

“Oh,” I said and looked at the mystified faces at the table. “Did anyone open her gate?”

“No, Mummy,” answered several of them.

I made sure they were all okay and went up to Stella’s room. I knocked and went in opening and closing the gate. She didn’t hear me, she was busy shoving clothes in various bags and cases. “What’re you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” she snapped back.

“I can see that, but why?”

“I can’t stand a moment longer in this place.”

“Why is that?”

“I can’t stand being with you–you smart arse–think you know everything about babies and children–but then you’ve had so many yourself, haven’t you? Pregnancy is such a bitch isn’t it?”

“I don’t know about pregnancy but you can be one.”

“Why you...” she flew at me scaring me and Puddin’ who burst into tears. I managed to repulse her slashing nails and she turned and looked at her toddler and said accusingly, “Now look what you’ve done–get out of here.”

I was speechless but thought discretion the better part of valour and left her to it. I was concerned for Puddin’s safety. As I came down, I heard Daddy driving off to the university–so I had no other adults in the house as Jenny was away last night. I was really worried for her little one, who is a sweet wee thing. I could still hear her thumping about upstairs, cursing and opening and closing cupboards and drawers. In desperation I called Gareth.

I quickly explained what was happening and suggested if he could come over it would be a good idea. He agreed and left immediately. I don’t know if he knew of Stella’s history but I was really concerned for her and both her toddler and the unborn she was carrying.