The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1412 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The girls were as fizzy as a bottle of pop and I drove back wondering how I’d manage to keep them busy everyday for the next seven weeks. There are times when I suspect I’m not entirely suited to looking after children.

I needed Simon to get at least a week off, preferably two and we needed to go away for at least part of the time. We’d left it too late to organise passports, so it would have to be in this country–but there are loads of places to go and it’s not as if we’re exactly hard up. A holiday cottage would be nice, but it would mean I’d be on duty every meal time unless we went out for dinner.

Hotels are okay but they tend to be noisy, people drinking and then calling goodnight to each other at two in the morning, or they stand under your window or by your door and talk in hushed loud voices. It’s like being back in my student bedsit.

A house overlooking the sea would be nice, just a change of view and I hope some peace and quiet.

I left my plotting until after the children had gone to bed and Jenny and Stella were talking in the lounge. I was in my study doing some searches on the internet for houses with sea views and ninety three bedrooms. Actually, we’d need four or five bedrooms but loads of beds. Si and I would need one room and Catherine could come in with us, the girls would need a room, and Julie and Danny would need separate rooms so we needed a minimum of four bedrooms. We’d have to take two cars with some inflatable mattresses because nowhere would have enough beds and bedding for our brood–so we’d take some sleeping bags as well.

Simon came in to see what I was doing. I told him and he was shocked. “Holidays? You mean being locked up with you lot all day and night?”

“We are a family and you are nominally the head of it.”

“Can’t Tom go with you, or Jenny?”

“No, I’d like to give Jenny the time off and Tom deserves a break from us too.”

“Take Stella, I’m sure her girls would enjoy it.”

“I’m sure they would, but I’d like to take you and our children and no one else.”

“I don’t think I can get time off in the near future, things are pretty volatile at the moment.”

“Well take your laptop with you, you can check every day and give necessary instructions.”

“I don’t know, babes; I wish you’d given me some warning.”

“What d’you think this is?”

"I'm sorry, but it isn't enough," he went to walk away and I snarled at him.

“You make me sick, I’m going to bed.”

I closed down my computer and went upstairs leaving him sulking downstairs. I can’t believe he couldn’t get some time off in August or even the first week in September. We could even do now. I could be packed in a day and ready to go the next day.

I was reading when he came up to the bedroom. “Look I’m sorry, babes, but I just can’t do anything for weeks. I’ve looked at my diary and I’m chock-a-block with appointments. Maybe we should look at half term.”

“Yeah, maybe or maybe I’ll see if Iain is free.”

“Iain?”

“Iain MacPherson, the actor.”

“What for?”

“To come away on holiday with the kids and I.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I do, but then you’re far happier in your little office playing the stock market than being with your wife and kids.”

“That’s not fair, I even moved offices to be home quicker.”

“You rarely are though, are you? I think you moved offices to have less of a commute–less wear and tear on you–you don’t come home early that often.”

“I have a very senior position, you know that.”

“Yes, but so do you here–you are a father to seven children–what could be more important than that?”

“I employ about thirty people in my division of the bank, they depend upon me for their livelihoods.”

“And how many of them are having a week or two off during August?”

“I have no idea, I leave that to personnel and my secretary.”

I felt so angry. We never go away. I wanted to slap him, he always puts his job before us unless I complain to Henry and I’m damned if I’m going to this time.

I kept my temper and actually slept reasonably well. I stayed civil with Simon at breakfast although I declined to give him a kiss before he went–my diary was too full.

I spoke with Julie when she came down and she blushed when I mentioned holidays, on a little questioning, she explained she wanted to go with two girlfriends in September. I felt a bit hurt but at least she had a reason and I suppose it would mean that we’d need one less bedroom.

Danny had his cricket tournament next week, so he wouldn’t want to go away until after that. I got the girls up, and after they had breakfast, I took Danny to school leaving the girls with Jenny.

“How would you like to go away for a week’s holiday?” I asked Danny.

“Yeah, where?”

“I don’t know yet, I’ll have to see what I can book–it’ll be this country.”

“We goin’ up to the castle?”

“I hadn’t thought to, I was thinking more Devon or Cornwall.”

“I’d rather go to the castle.”

I fumed silently, am I wanting something unreasonable? It began to feel like it.

“Oh, Mum, there’s a football summer school, in August–any chance I could go to that?”

“Get me details. What if it clashed with dates available for the castle or somewhere else, which would you prefer?”

“Um,” he blushed and I knew he’d prefer kicking a ball round than coming away with his so called family.

We arrived at his school and my Cayenne caused a little excitement–it is still a Porsche. Danny got his cricket bag from the back of the car–it contained his bat and his pads and probably a few other bits and pieces too, including his box a protector for his dangly bits against fast bowlers and other dangerous animals.

“Is that your mum, Maiden?” asked a boy, also dressed in cricket whites and carrying a similar bag to Danny.

“Yeah, why?”

“Gor, how come someone as beautiful as ’er ’ad something as ugly as you?” He laughed and so did his mates.

“I’ll remember that when I’m bowling,” said Danny quietly.

“Oh I’m scared,” mocked the other boy.

“I’m not,” said Danny with a coldness that worried me but not the boy. I had to leave him to fight his own battles and he seemed reasonably adept at it, but if I were that boy, I wouldn’t want to face my son in ordeal by cricket ball because he sounded as if taking prisoners wasn’t an option.

“Can’t you introduce me, Maiden, I’d love to give ’er a good seein’ to.”

“Fuck off, Clayton–nah you can’t can you, better watch out I might incapacitate your wanking hand–then you’d be in trouble.”

“If you do, Maiden, I’ll make you kiss it better and kiss something else. Yeah, Maiden’s a good name for a fairy like you.”

They wandered out of my earshot still swapping insults. Part of me hoped Danny did manage to bowl something that either caught the boy’s fingers or his groin or even bounced up and hit his elbow–not to do any real damage–just to give him a few minutes agony.

I drove home in a grumpy mood and the day didn’t get any better when Jenny asked if she could take a week off the following week–her bloke had leave. I could hardly refuse her, could I?