The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1341 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“So what’s her name?”

“I’ll tell you if you promise not to embarrass me or her.”

“Would I do a thing like that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh shame on you Danny. Don’t you trust me?”

“No.” He gave me a hard stare and I smiled sweetly at him.

“We’ve all dated you know.”

“How many years is it since you dated the first time.”

“The first time?” I asked and he nodded. “Hmm let me see, it was so long ago I can’t remember–all I know is that he was an ex-rugby player and his dad owned a bank–apart from that–I can’t remember.”

“What–you didn’t like date as a girl?”

“If you recall my past is a little murkier than yours and such things were much more difficult. I hope that Trish and Billie won’t have the problems I had.”

“But you were quite a looker when you did Lady MacBeth.”

“How d’you know?”

“I seen the photos, remember?”

“Oh those ones, you really think I was okay as a girl, d’you?”

“Oh yeah, I’d have asked you for a date.”

“Oh that’s made my day–my son fancies his mother–come back Oedipus, all is forgiven.”

He blushed–“Except I wasn’t born, was I?”

“Dunno, it’s possible–but no matter–we need to get home–cottage pie to make and if you don’t give it long enough, the walls don’t set and the thatch falls off–c’mon.”

He gave me a funny look before lethargically adding, “Ha ha, very funny, not.”

I wondered if it was too late to send him back to his original parents? Probably, besides, I’m his legal parent so I’m stuck with him unless he marries deli-girl. I thought of a way of getting my own back.

“Unless you tell me her name, I’m going to call her Deli-a.”

“Dont you dare,” he hissed.

“Bye, Delia,” I called and waved.

He went bright red and said, “Okay, you win, I’ll tell you outside.” Now he was learning. “You’re a bully,” he said sulking.

“I always win, Danny, I’m a woman–it’s what we do.”

“Huh,” he huffed in annoyance.

We left the shop and pushed the trolley towards the car, as we did so a courtesy car pulled up behind us. I knew it was a courtesy car because it said so on the side, something like, ‘ABC car repairers–courtesy car,” I’m quick like that.

“I shoulda fixed you bitch, you and your fucking family.”

“Oh dear you again, I see the lessons in rhetoric were a waste of money.”

“Watch your mouth, bitch.”

“Why, what are you going to do about it, run over another deer?”

With that, he stopped the car blocking the road and jumped out, then remembered his recent injury and limped slightly. “I’m gonna sort you out big time.”

“Smile for the security cameras, won’t you?” I retorted and turned my back. He pushed me quite hard and my head hit the rear door of the car–it hurt, not as much as I portrayed but it needed rubbing.

I was about to appeal to witnesses when Danny stepped between us, and grabbed a loaf of bread from the trolley and threw it to the ignorant youth–who caught it.

“You’re always telling me to use my loaf, aren’t you, Mum.” Then he belted the youth on the jaw taking back the loaf as the youth fell backwards. “Don’t you ever lay a finger on her again.”

A small crowd began collecting and cheered Danny’s chivalrous intervention. I continued loading the shopping into the car. The youth, stood up and threatened Danny who stood and faced him.

“Okay, that’s enough–you in the car,” I said to Danny, stepping between them, “And you, crawl back under whatever stone you emerged from.”

“You bitch–you just lost your defender–big mistake.”

“I can defend myself–now go.”

I saw two security people running towards us–the youth had his back to them.

“Not until I’ve rubbed your face in the dirt, bitch.”

“You’ll get hurt, sunshine–now go.”

He ignored my advice pushed me back against my car and swung wildly. I sidestepped and he hit the side window of my car–thankfully, without breaking it–not sure about his hand though because he squeaked a bit.

In case he swung again, I grabbed his arm, stepped sideways, twisted his arm and pushed against his wrist with my thumbs. He squeaked louder and I steered him down on the ground. forcing his body down from the shoulder–I was shown it when I was in uni by a girl who taught us some self-defence–I was the only um–honorary girl there.

“Now kiss it,” I indicated the ground.

“No–ouch–you’re breaking my arm.”

“Well do as I say and I’ll let you go.”

The security guards stood and watched without intervening.

“My arm–my arm–you’re hurting it.”

“Kiss the ground and say you’re sorry and then I’ll let you go and you can go home. I did warn you I would defend myself.”

“No–oh–ouch–alright, I’m sorry, okay?” he kissed the ground and I released his arm.

As soon as I did the security guards picked him up and practically threw him into his ca.r threatening to call the police if he didn’t quit the premises.

“Are you alright, madam? We saw that he started it.”

“I’m fine, thanks–maybe the odd bruise.”

“If you want to press charges?”

“What for, he’s only a stupid boy, let him go he’ll grow up one day.”

He drove off in high dudgeon swearing at us as he went–so the guards took his number and said they’d notify the police for his threatening behaviour.

“I told them to let it go, and that I’d felt more frightened handling dormice.”

“Gosh–you’re the dormouse woman–I saw your film.” One of the guards had two functioning brain cells and they fired together. The crowd grew more animated–a celebrity gets attacked in Morrison’s car park by idiot youth. I could see the lurid headlines now and Simon playing hell with me for doing it again–keeping such a low profile–why does it happen to me so regularly? Could it be because I won’t lie down and play dead for these bumptious little toerags?

I walked the trolley back to the trolley park–and get my pound coin back–when there was a squeal of tyres and the courtesy car came screaming at me and the security guards following me.

I jumped and rolled over the bonnet of a car and the two security men managed to jump out of the way between parked cars. People were rushing all over the place as the trolley was hit by the car, ricocheted off a nearby car and flew up into the air, bits of debris scattering everywhere like shrapnel.

I heard Danny scream, “Muuuum,” followed by that awful sound of a metallic bang then a split second later glass breaking and further bangs. Danny came and helped me up–I was glad he wasn’t near when the motorised attack happened.

People were rushing to assist at the crash site–he’d hit a car head-on as it drove into the car park. Danny pulled me to my feet and we limped rather than ran to the crash.

“Go and watch the car, my bag’s in it.” I urged him, he hesitated and I pushed him back towards the car. I trotted on, no one was getting out of the wrecked cars without assistance from the fire service. The youth was sprawled over the steering wheel and there was blood on the windscreen–not a good sign. I leant in the car and switched off the engine. Others were trying to get the elderly couple out of the other car–the air bags had punched them back against the seats and they looked awful.

There was a dreadful smell of petrol and I suggested someone get some fire extinguishers. Sirens were sounding in the distance. I could sense the youth’s life was ebbing away and he was deeply unconscious.

I squeezed through the back window of the car. pretending to check his pulse. “Okay, Wayne, this is how it goes–listen carefully, we don’t have much time. I’m going to give you a blue marker–you follow it and you get back to your body–and with luck you live. Ignore it, and you die. It doesn’t matter to me–it’s your choice. The marker is there now–a blue light–follow it if you wish to live–it’s that simple–no hidden traps or agendas, just life. Up to you kid, I wish you no harm, but either way keep away from my kids–or the universe will be too small a place to hide.

I felt a pulse in his neck slowly beat more firmly, he was bleeding somewhere–oh no–the gear stick was impaled in his groin–no more testosterone, ever. “That’s right, follow the light–I’m here guiding you–c’mon now, keep coming,” I urged him.

The ambulance took the other couple away after popping the air bags. They were quite poorly. The fire brigade examined the car and decided to ask me to stay supporting the boy because they needed to cut off the steering wheel and I pointed at the gear stick.

“Oh shit–bang goes his married life,” said the officer–“Is he still breathing?”

“Barely, I’ll keep encouraging him.”

They passed in an oxygen mask and I clamped it over his nose and mouth, they were quite bloody–the steering wheel had smashed his nose and most of his front teeth–but he was just breathing.

Danny sat in the car–he should have worked out my keys were in my bag, so he could have locked it. He watched from a distance as they cut off the roof of the car and then the side so they could lift him out–with me holding on to him all the while and talking to him.

His pulse was improving all the time–they had a sensor on him.

“This is crazy, Malc,” one of the firemen called to his friend, “This kid is growing stronger, not worse.”

They cut off the gear stick, leaving about a foot of it protruding from his bloodied groin. Given his previous injury there–I didn’t have high hopes of any surgeon being able to stick Humpty Dumpty together again.

He was alive when I finally left him to go off in the ambulance. The chief fireman at the scene took me to one side–“Thanks for your help, none of us would have been able to get in the car like that–you kept his airway open.”

I shrugged, “I did what I could.”

“Are you a doctor or nurse?”

“Me? No–just a housewife.”

“I saw the blue stuff.”

“A trick of the light I expect.” I suggested trying to distract him.

“No way, I’ve seen it once before–and I’m quite a bit older than you–it was in Africa when a holy man was summoned to help a young woman who was close to death. He talked her back to life, claiming there was an angel acting with him. Do you have an angel or are you one yourself?”

“Me?”

“We’ve met before–you saved that woman in the river?”

“Meee?–No, I can’t swim that well–sorry, I have to go, my son’s waiting for me in the car.”

“Bring him down the station sometime, ask for Chief Officer Malcolm Crozier–that’s me. We’ll give him a ride in an engine.”

He held out his hand for me to shake and when I did, he smiled–“You are one special lady, aren’t you?”

“No just a ho...”

“Housewife, I know–but no housewife I know can deliver that voltage.”

“Your hiatus hernia isn’t going to be a problem again, Malcolm–unless you tell anyone what you saw.”

“My lips are sealed–angel lady.”

I winked and walked away.