The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1375 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

As I fed the little mother-sucker I initially felt concerned that I couldn’t seem to remember anything about what had happened previously. I asked Jenny, who was feeding Puddin’ some cold rice pud–home made of course.

“You know, I think I must be losing it because I can’t remember anything about the person who visited us.”

“Visited you, they didn’t come to see me.”

“Who were they then?”

“Seriously?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m a complete blank.”

“Remember the woman Sam Rose sent you?”

“Yeah, with Carla.”

“Yeah–I think that was what the girls said the kid’s name was; anyway, the mystery visitor was her dad.”

“Carla’s dad?”

“Well yes, I can’t think her grandfather would bother coming to see you.”

“Why not? I often appeal to old farts, apparently.”

Jenny glared at me, “So d’you remember now?”

“Not really, what happened?”

“How do I know? I wasn’t there–I brought you some tea and watched the kiddiwinks–oh there was loads of blue light about–saw the flashes through the window.”

“This is bizarre. I wonder if I made any notes.” I unhooked Catherine from her personal milk tanker–she was going to sleep again and after putting her in the high chair, went into my study cum library area.

I checked the desk but couldn’t see anything, although the orchid on my desk was new–I had an ancient thing which had died the death and I was going to chuck–it was there earlier, Jenny must have replaced it with this one.

I went back to the kitchen where Catherine was giving Jenny a hard time with her rice pudding. “C’mon, open the gates and let the stage coach in,” she was saying to Catherine. The amount down her front–the baby, that is–rather implied she didn’t want it.

“Leave it, Jen, she isn’t going to eat it, little sausage.” Of course she heard my voice and spun her head round to see me and got an earful of rice. Her bottom lip puckered and she was about to cry when I laughed, so after a moment, she laughed too. “Oh by the way, thanks for the orchid–it’s lovely.”

“What orchid?”

“The one you put on my desk to replace the manky one that was there.”

“I didn’t put an orchid on your desk, let alone remove one.”

“Must be the bloke then, I’ll have to write and thank him.”

“He didn’t look like the sort to come bearing gifts.”

“So how did it get there then?”

“The blue light?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jenny–it heals people not dead plants.”

“I thought it went where it was needed.”

“Within reason, yeah–so it would hardly be dealing with off-colour orchids–would it?”

“How do I know–you’re the one it comes to.”

“Unfortunately.”

“C’mon, Cathy, it’s saved a few lives with your help.”

“I didn’t do very much and I know even less–it’s like what I have to say is put in my mouth.”

“That include the last sentence?”

“Eh?”

“Was that put into your mouth as well?”

“Was what?”

“Oh f’gedit–what’re we having for lunch?”

“I have forgotten it,” I joked.

“Forgotten what we’re having for lunch?”

I rolled my eyes, “You told me to forget someth... Oh never mind. I thought I’d do something with eggs.”

“Well get crackin’ then,” she roared with laughter. “I’ve always wanted to say that to someone.”

“If I’d known that, I’d have considered you lacking in ambition–mind you, saving mankind and finding a solution to the Middle East crisis was probably a bit OTT.”

“I didn’t say that, did I?”

“Now who can’t remember?”

“I do remember–you asked me what ambition I felt had not been achieved, an’ I said, havin’ my own family and career-wise to possibly have my own nursery.”

“You didn’t, you said to get this job and as much money as I can con out of you lot.”

“I didn’t,” Jenny said blushing and I fell about laughing.

“Go and scramble some eggs,” she said to me and took Puddin’ off to see if she wanted to wee–she doesn’t say, she just dances about and suddenly she’s done it in her panties.

I glanced at Catherine, she was fast asleep in her high chair–rice pudding in her hair and all down the front of her–mucky pup.

I made scrambled eggs on toast with tomato slices, we both ate them and drank some tea, then I took the baby and changed her after bathing her. She grumbled a bit but she let me do it. Mind you, I am somewhat larger and more aggressive...

The phone rang and Jenny got it, “It’s for you-hoo,” she shouted.

“You sounded like a cuckoo then; no, make that a wood pigeon.”

She walked back to the kitchen calling coo-coo. She’ll have to go.

“Hello, Cathy Cameron.”

“Ah, Lady Cameron, what did you do or say to my Geoff, he’s like a new man. He’s gone out with Carla to buy her a doll–can you believe it?”

As I couldn’t recall what had happened, I might believe anything or nothing. “Oh that’s good,” I said trying to remember if it was or not.

“Good–it’s brilliant–you told me to go with my heart and what I felt was best for Carla–you must have told him the same and it’s really hit the spot.”

“Yes I did,” did I?

“Thank you so much, I’m so glad that Dr Rose asked you to see me.”

“You’re welcome, he’s probably going to need some encouragement so make sure you give him lots–he needs your love as well as Carla.”

“I know that and it’s exactly what I’m trying to do. Oh, they’re coming back, gotta go.” The phone line went dead and I replaced the handset.

I felt even more puzzled–had I surrendered to the light or just forgotten? Did the light take me over–I sound like one of those fraudulent medium types–is there anybody there?”

I went and collected the girls and saw the headmistress. “How are the rehearsals going?”

“Okay, I suppose. We start again tomorrow, then next week it’s dress rehearsal and the week after the real thing. I cannot believe I allowed a bunch of kids persuade me into doing it?”

“Perhaps you always wanted to reprise it–as a real woman, not a schoolgirl.”

“If it was it was pretty deep in my unconscious mind because I didn’t know it.”

She laughed, “Well it’s not every day you get a chance to work with a Hollywood heart-throb, is it?”

“No thank goodness,”

“You don’t sound too impressed?”

“Shall we say I know him better in some respects than you do.”

“Undoubtedly–you sound disappointed?”

“Maybe I am–we all have feet of clay, it’s just so disappointing to discover it in others.”

“Oh, I don’t know, you seem to have escaped the clay-foot syndrome.”

“Nah, mine’s just been baked into china–so it’s fancy clay.

“You are so funny sometimes, Lady Cameron, oh by the by, could you ask Trish not to keep correcting Sister Ignatius about the Holy Family’s flight into Egypt–she said they didn’t have aeroplanes in those days.”

It wouldn’t be a normal week if she hadn’t corrected at least one teacher–reminds me a bit of someone–though I lost the habit after some of my contemporaries left me battered and bruised in the playground one break time. So possibly ignorance isn’t such bliss if they were so cross?