The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1364 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I’m not sure how we got home–I know it was by car, and frighteningly, I drove one of them–but here we are, lunch time and back at the ranch, so to speak. The two little ones were fine and I thanked Jenny for her care. She then had the afternoon off whilst I sort of took over and Julie went to lie down for an hour. She was looking peaky after her ordeal and I must admit I didn’t feel that special myself, not helped by some nasty bruises on my side. Still, the perpetrator of those would have worse bruises himself where the car door and frame hit him and then the wheel went over his leg–teach him to try and carjack me.

I had a couple of pounds of mince in the freezer and plenty of pasta so dinner was going to be spag bol, and that enabled me to concentrate on a dessert–I made some rhubarb puree and plonked some crumble on top, with which we’d have single cream.

I collected the girls and they were delighted to see me, making a real fuss when I met them outside school. I took them back via the ice cream shop–it isn’t actually an ice cream shop per se–but it sells ice creams amongst other things, and we all had one while I told them that Julie was safe and at home.

“What’s for dinner, Mummy?” asked Trish.

“Spaghetti bolognaise,” I replied and they all shouted hurrah–I got a distinct impression they approved.

When we got home, Puddin’ was walking about still sounding like a potty, though we ignored her in that regard. Danny gave me a huge hug and asked me about demolishing a mobile home–which the girls overheard so I deferred to Julie who entranced them with her embroidered version on my act of vandalism. I escaped to the kitchen and got on with the meal.

While I was there I saw the black BMW of Superintendent Carlyle come into the drive. My anxiety levels rose as he walked towards the door. I let him in and we went to the kitchen and I shut the door–a sign to the family to keep out–usually it’s open.

“We’re charging the three men with abduction and false imprisonment. You were also taken and locked in the shed, weren’t you?”

“Yes, for a few hours, why?”

“The chap you took out, is claiming you assaulted him.”

“If you’d been locked in a dark garden shed, wouldn’t you be aggressive?”

“He did have a broken nose as well as concussion.”

“So?”

“He’s talking about wanting you charged.”

“I see–I hope you’ve got him on several counts of abduction and false imprisonment?”

“Four so far, but I thought I’d better warn you–he said you hit him with a spade.”

“Gardening can be very dangerous, especially in the dark, I can only imagine he fell over a root or something and bumped himself on something like a spade. He didn’t mention the knife he was carrying?”

“No, funny that–he said you were hiding in the shed and jumped out on him.”

“If you examine the door you’ll see where I took about two hours to undo the door hinges.”

“We have–don’t worry, your story checks out.”

“What about your silly colleague?”

“Hawkins?” he asked and I nodded. “He’s been suspended–he’ll certainly lose his firearms certificate–if not his job–there’s an investigation ongoing into his conduct.”

“I can’t understand why he set about me like that, it was obvious I wasn’t a bad guy.”

“He’s apparently been under a lot of stress with his mother–but then you met his mother, didn’t you–rescued her as well as your daughter. I’ve been looking into your record...”

I looked alarmed at this.

“I don’t mean criminal record, just a list of things you’ve been involved in–it’s impressive–film making, crime fighting, teaching mother of how many?”

“Seven plus Stella’s toddler.”

“Like I said, I’m impressed–I hope none of your girls follow in your footsteps though–they might not be so lucky.”

“What d’you mean?” I asked wondering if he was referring to avoiding being charged for something.

“You seem pretty well unkillable–even a stab wound to the lung didn’t stop you–most people die.”

“Oh well, trust me to be the odd one out.”

“I’m pleased that you are, Lady Cameron–I don’t like murder investigations, at least two lives are messed up, plus those of the families of the victim and perp.”

“Yes, I know when Julie has been in trouble before I’ve wondered how I’d cope if anything had happened to her. It must be a nightmare.”

“It is–policing is a pretty shitty job at times–then you see the families of young men and women who are bereaved because of someone’s deliberate action and you know someone has to help them by catching the perp.”

“I had a visit from a Sergeant Polder a week or so ago–he gives you all a bad name.”

“Oh, what happened?”

“He was trying to get me to confess that I’d used black magic or some other such nonsense on an injured doe, which subsequently died as did her prematurely born fawn.”

“And did you?”

“Did I use black magic? Don’t be absurd–we were trying to assist a badly injured animal–no magic just compassion.”

“Sergeant Polder has a bit of a reputation for looking for crimes where there aren’t any–he’s also a bit of a religious nut–wanting to charge someone because they refused to swear an oath on the Bible. Were you wanting to make an issue of this visit?”

“No, just to make you aware of his visit and the absurdity of his accusations–he actually accused me of resurrecting dead animals–by some arcane method.”

“I take it you don’t?”

“Oh don’t you start,” I groaned and he smirked.

“If he comes again without good reason, let me know, I’ll mention that most coppers who have dealings with you seem to retire early.”

“Does that include you?”

“Me? Nah–too stupid to accuse you of anything.”

“I see–I hope that remains the case–the accusatorial element.”

“I can’t see why it shouldn’t–mind you, if I hear stories of dead animals walking out of butcher’s shops and you were in the vicinity–I’ll be back.” He teased me then roared with laughter.

“Thanks for the warning, guv,” I hissed and he laughed again.

“I’d better go you need to feed that army of children you have.”

I glanced at the clock, “Goodness yes, they’ll be knocking on the door in a moment asking for their dinner.”

As if on cue, “Is dinner going to be much longer, Mummy, I’m starving,” Trish’s dulcet tones came through the door.

I saw the Superintendent off and switched the heat on under the mince and the water for the pasta. Trish came in–“How much longer, Mummy?”

“Not long–go and change and tell the others to do the same, I don’t want sauce all over your school clothes.”

“Sister Matilda is always saying I have too much sauce–but I don’t have hardly any on my dinner–honest, Mummy.”

I laughed at her and shook my head–Sister Matilda was absolutely spot on.