The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1390 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I slept that night with Simon’s arm around me, all night I think. He certainly groaned when he moved it on rising the next morning. I offered to kiss it better, but he rubbed it a bit and then went into the shower.

I showered afterward, then woke the children. Jenny was down first, much to my surprise, so the kettle was boiling by the time I got downstairs. I noticed Billie was becoming more private in her toilet, while the other three often went into the bathroom, the bath and sometimes the shower together. However, the hormones were beginning to take effect and I noticed she looked a little broader in the beam and had little nubs growing on her chest.

I did offer to let her have a bedroom to herself, but she said she still enjoyed the company of the other girls at bedtime. I had a feeling she’d soon change her mind as she became more self-conscious as puberty, albeit an artificial one, takes effect.

Danny almost fell down the stairs he was so sleepy, and when he began sneezing, I suspected he was getting hayfever or allergic rhinitis. His eyes looked watery and he sneezed loads of times before he left.

I offered to phone the doctor and get a prescription for him which he thanked me for doing. As I wanted to speak with Sister Maria, I’d have to make the call when I got back home. I was just leaving when Stella appeared like the wreck of the Hesperus. I think she’d slept even less than I and Gareth didn’t look much better.

At the school, I sought out the headmistress only to be told she was at a meeting and wasn’t expected until the afternoon. My head buzzing with frustration, I drove home collecting some extra milk and bread on the way–these days I rarely had time to make the latter, so when I did it was treated like a delicacy and disappeared in one sitting.

I got home and after phoning the doctor’s–a prescription would be sent to our nearest pharmacy to collect after lunch–I settled down with a cuppa to feed Catherine. She’d already had her breakfast so this was a top up. Stella sat opposite me with Fiona fixed to her chest.

“D’you actually enjoy this?” she asked me.

“Yes, don’t you?”

“No–I’m not even sure if the poor little thing is getting any.”

“Well express it and then bottle feed her,” I suggested.

“No thanks–that’s even more uncomfortable.”

Wait till she’s got teeth, Stella, then you’ll know uncomfortable. “Your milk has come in?” I asked.

“That’s what they said at the clinic.”

I probably produced enough to feed both children, but I wasn’t going to offer because I knew Stella would take advantage of me again. “Is she putting on weight.”

“No, she’s lost a fraction, but they often do.”

Puddin’ appeared, doing her party piece, “Shit, shit ,shit,” she said walking through and Stella looked horrified, Gareth nearly choked on his coffee, I simply shrugged–but she was still getting a reaction so she’d continue doing it.

“Where did she hear that?”

“I have no idea, but you know what they’re like, human blotting paper.”

“Sounds like you, Cathy, it’s one of your favourite utterances.”

At this point Gareth suddenly remembered he had something urgent to do on his computer. I let him go–coward.

There were lots of things I could have said by way of response, I chose to ignore them all and Stella’s comment. “She does it every now and again, we ignore it but she does tend to give visitors a shock.”

“Oh so she sees us as visitors?” Stella fired back a sarcastic reply.

“Yes, she hasn’t seen you for a while, and she barely knows Gareth.”

“She called me Mummy earlier.”

“I’m glad she did, she usually calls me Annie-Affie.” I didn’t ask if Stella had prompted the appellation, ‘Come to Mummy,’ sort of thing.

“This little bugger, keeps going to sleep,” said Stella and her elder child walked through saying, ‘Bugger, bugger, bugger.’

“Where did she hear that?”

“Just now, from her mother’s lips if I’m not mistaken.”

“She wouldn’t have picked it up that quickly–surely?”

“You’d be surprised, just don’t swear.”

“Of course you’re such an expert on babies,” she said rising from her chair and taking Fiona back to her room.

“I’m no expert, Stella, unless you’re comparing me to you,” I muttered under my breath.

“Oh, where did Stella go?” asked Jenny bringing the washing down from the bathrooms, “I was hoping for a little cuddle.”

“She’s gone off for a sulk because I deigned to suggest she’d overheard Stella using the B word.”

“Has she done the S one yet?”

“She has.”

“That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” no point in denying it–still it’s a pity we’re such a load of devil worshippers–because it would be amusing to see how the vicar would deal with her foul mouth. If she went round saying, cock-a-doodle–do, would she be fowl mouthed? I snorted at my own silliness. Unfortunately, Stella had just returned and she thought I’d laughed at her.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

There was no way I was going to tell her–so I told her something else–“I was thinking about seeing you at the play last night.”

“I wasn’t aware either I or it were particularly funny.”

“You weren’t it was more that I didn’t expect to see you.”

“That was one of the reasons why we did it.”

“Give me a heart attack, you mean?”

“That’s right take it the wrong way, like you always do.”

“Stella, I was making light of it–it was a lovely surprise.”

“I hear what your mouth is saying–your eyes are saying something dfferent.”

“Are they? I hadn’t noticed, I wasn’t aware they could say anything.”

“Ah there’s our difference–I’ve studied gesture and body language,” she trilled.

Fat lot of good it’s done her, so it’s either all hogwash–you know H.Potter, esquire’s school–only joking–or she did the wrong course. I chose not to say anything, but an expert in non-verbals like Stella, would get my message loud and clear–Piss off.

Puddin’ walked in, “Come to Mummy, darling,” cooed Stella opening her arms for a hug and the little monster walked over to me and began to climb up onto my lap.

“Me wuv Annie-Affie.”

If looks could kill, both Pud and I would be either dead or on life support. “You are the giddy limit, Catherine Watts–fancy stealing your own sister’s baby–haven’t you got enough of your own yet; or is this some sort of fetish?”

“I beg your pardon?” I said sharply.

“You know what I mean, you collect other people’s children because you can’t have your own–just leave mine out of it.”

I was incandescent, the nerve of the woman–to bite the hand that feeds her in my own home. She’s been ill–she isn’t aware of what she’s saying–but one more jibe and she walks or leaves on a stretcher.

“Annie-Affie, doan wike, nasty wady.” Puddin’ was holding on to my leg.

“That does it, you brat–I’m your mother–you foolish child–I’m your bloody mother.”

“No wike you, bloody wady, go way.”

I nearly choked.

“That’s right–typical of you, isn’t it–poisoning little minds.”

“That’s not right, Stella, Cathy shows her your photo quite regularly and reminds her that you’re her mother,” Jenny interrupted the argument.

“You would say that, wouldn’t you, you’re on her payroll.” Stella slammed into Jenny, who wasn’t having any of it.

“It might be Cathy and Simon who pay me, but I’ve spent quite a lot of time looking after your child–so don’t try it on with me–I’m not some unbalanced lunatic.”

Stella was almost apoplectic, she made a funny noise and practically ran from the room.

“Did I say the wrong thing?” asked Jenny.

“I–um–think you might have.”

“Tough,” she walked off to finish the laundry.

“Me fwighten,” said Puddin’ pulling at my leg. I bent down and picked her up and cuddled her hoping Stella had calmed down before she saw us.