The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1306 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

We were late back from the hotel, we fell asleep and just cuddled together. It was one of the happiest moments of my life, just knowing I was with the man I loved and for that moment nothing else mattered.

Unfortunately, we may live in the moment but we have to plan for at least a few hours if not days. We were woken by room service coming to clean the suite–they were so apologetic–yet it was our fault.

Simon assured the Filipina ladies that it was our fault and that he’d give them both a good report if he was asked. They seem to relax after that. We woke ourselves up, gathered up the luggage and set off for home–it was eleven o’clock, we should have left at nine.

Thankfully, back at the ranch; Jenny and Tom had things under control. The girls were helping Jenny do some cleaning and Danny was helping in the garden. I was most impressed with the tidiness of the house and wondered if I’d come to the wrong one.

Maureen was there finishing the decoration of the new rooms. I’d had floor to ceiling book shelves on three walls in the study cum library. It was quite a large room, mostly library but with a large alcove with a window, which was my study area. I had a small desk put in there, a phone point and the wi-fi broadband was based on a large desktop computer in the library itself.

Some of my books were still in Bristol, some were at the university–or they were when I left them–and some were scattered about the house. It was going to take days to gather and arrange them.

We now had two spare bedrooms with all new carpeting, beds and other furnishings. I expected the girls to each bag one, but they didn’t–they liked sharing–although I suppose with the onset of puberty, they’d all get self-conscious and want a room each.

There was a letter waiting for me from the solicitor, the letters of probate had been received and they suggested I did nothing with the Whitehead’s house, except let it furnished. I showed it to Simon, who suggested the same company who oversaw the letting of his cottage. I promised I’d give them a ring to discuss it with them.

I really wasn’t sure what I’d do with the place–sell it I suppose, because Tom’s house was bigger, but maybe when the kids were grown up, a smaller place would do. I honestly didn’t know what to do–except I knew I couldn’t do anything by way of disposal for at least six months in case anyone counter-claimed the estate or showed a more recent will.

I had to get his journal back from Tom, too–peculiarly, he hadn’t returned it. Maureen took my attention, wanting to know where to put the wireless laser printer which also doubled as a scanner/copier and fax.

For lunch I managed to cobble together some soup and bread, we’d stopped off at the local supermarket and bought a couple of loaves–just as well, with all of us except Stella there, we actually ate both loaves of bread for lunch, with a large pot of soup disappearing with them.

Hunger sated, I set about doing the laundry with help from Billie and Trish. Danny was now back from his gardening jobs and Tom was supervising him with his books, or the ones he wanted to put in the library. He kept some in his own study.

The printer had its own cupboard to stand on at the end of a bench table in the middle of the room. Danny and Livvie were carrying books to and fro while I fed the baby some extra-virgin milk, straight from the breast. She fell asleep three times as she sucked. The little wretch wasn’t really hungry, she just liked being held while at the breast.

Mima was looking after Puddin’, who was busy pushing her little push chair with her dolly in it–the dolly was actually a soft toy gorilla–Pud thought it was beautiful, as only a mother can.

During a tea break, Tom and Jenny wanted to know how the meeting with the celebrities had gone, I left it to Simon to explain what had happened. He gave the main points in about a minute and a half. I filled in the incidentals over the next twenty minutes.

“So this guy, Matt Hines, is less experienced than you at doing Shakespeare?” asked Maureen to clarify things.

I shrugged, I’d only done one play, so I could hardly say I was experienced, but that was one more than Matthew had done. “Effectively, yeah.”

“And he earns, how much?”

“A few million per picture,” I guessed.

“That’s like these overpaid poofters chasing a ball about a field every Saturday and getting paid millions too. They’re about as much use as an ash tray on a motorbike.” I suspect Maureen doesn’t like football.

“I hope you’re not including Pompey in your generalisations?” I stirred it.

“Not at all, they’re rubbish with a capital C.” Maureen let rip at her local team who played in the Championship a level below the likes of Manchester United and Arsenal.

“Capital C?” I queried.

“Crap,” Danny whispered by the side of me.

“Oh, must be a naval term,” I muttered to no one in particular.

I left Trish to sort out the laundry with Jenny, and took Catherine with me to the supermarket; before we left there, I’d practically filled the boot and some of the interior of the car with food running up a bill of nearly two hundred pounds.

While the rest of them were still slogging carrying books and other equipment into the library, I shoved a couple of trays of chicken portions into the oven and began doing loads of vegetables.

Once everything was cooking I made some more tea and eight of us sat down to drink it. Just as well we have a large tea pot.

Seeing the numbers of people we had and were likely to have with Stella and Gareth in a few months, I discussed doing things in the kitchen with Tom, Maureen and Jenny. I suggested we got a range oven with a double oven and at least six rings or hotplates. I also suggested we got a facility for producing boiling water or steam, like they do in coffee shops.

Maureen stood in the middle of the kitchen and suggested where things could go. She also suggested a larger fridge and a separate large freezer. Tom nodded at both our suggestions and Maureen said she’d cost it over the next few days.

I was going to end up with a kitchen like a small restaurant, but that was fine with me as long as I had the space to do all I needed and the facilities to support my activities.

“Will you teach me to cook?” asked Trish, and Livvie and Mima joined the clamour. Billie was busy watching the telly so didn’t hear the others. I did have plans for all of them to learn a few basics in all aspects of housekeeping, so they could feed themselves, keep their clothes clean and keep their living space clean and tidy, if they went away from home to university or work.

Julie arrived home and was delighted to see Maureen. They sat and chatted while Trish and I finished the dinner and dished it up. Roast chicken with roast potatoes, carrots in butter, roast beetroot, curly kale and roast onion. I cheated in using a large pack of stuffing mix and some ready-made Yorkshire puddings. No one complained, except that we had no dessert organised–and that was Simon–who was teasing me. One day he’ll get his desserts, just or otherwise.