The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1417 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The day after Danny’s triumph on the cricket pitch, was the last day of his term and coincidentally a Friday. I’d agreed I’d collect him from school as he had stuff to bring home–he didn’t say what, but I assumed it was too much to carry on the bus.

Jenny was starting her holiday the next day and I wasn’t sure what I was going to be doing. Bristol seemed like the best option but somehow so much had happened in the past week or so, even the girls weren’t saying much about going.

I left Catherine with Jenny and Meems and Trish, Livvie and Billie came with me to collect their elder brother. I had reassured Billie that no one would recognise her and as we stood by the car waiting for Danny, whose black eye had receded miraculously to slight bruising, several of her previous classmates walked past without any recognition.

She almost cringed when the first one went past, then I saw her stand more erect and her little buds poked through her thin tee shirt, resembling more or less the other girls of her age group who were emerging from the school. Trish was jealous until I suggested that if she had boobs at seven by fifteen they’d be down to her knees.

We didn’t see Danny’s arch enemy come out of the school, apparently we learned later that he was at home nursing a very sore nose. Danny eventually arrived saying goodbye to several of his friends–I had no idea he was so popular. No one recognised Billie; she had half hidden behind me when Danny’s friends came with him to the car.

“Who’s the girl?” one of them whispered not too subtly to him.

“Which one? The old one’s my mum, then there’s Trish, Livvie and Billie.”

“Billie, she’s nice,” whispered the boy.

“Don’t be daft, she’s my sister.”

At this Billie stepped out of the shadows and slapped Danny on the arm, “Pig,” she said rolling her eyes. He simply sniggered and the boy blushed.

“This is Roy, Roy my sister–she likes bike, takes after Mum.”

“You like bikes, hey maybe we could all go for a ride some time, what sort of bike have you got?”

“I’ve got a road bike,” she said self-consciously.

“What a racer?”

“Yeah–only, I’m not good enough to race.”

“Probably better than my mountain bike–it’s okay, I s’pose, Trek with twenty four gears and disc brakes, what make is yours?”

“Specialized, like one of my mum’s bikes.”

“Neat, well I gotta go–see you for a ride sometime?”

“Um–maybe, I’ll have to ask Mum.”

As I was standing not two feet from her, I smirked and then acting all serious, said, “I hope your intentions towards my daughter are honourable?”

He looked at me blankly–what sort of education do these kids get?

“If I let her go for a ride with you, you’ll behave yourself?”

“Oh yes, lady.”

“How did you know my mummy was a lady?” interrupted Trish.

“Eh?” he gave her a look of total astonishment followed by one of contempt, “All girls older than me are ladies,” he didn’t add, ‘dummy’ but it was there by inference.

“My mummy is a lady, Lady Catherine Cameron.”

He looked at her while he processed the data she’d given him. “Oh, I didn’t know that–so how come your name is Maiden?” he asked Danny who blushed.

“I married after Danny was born,” I offered to change the subject.

Roy blushed brightly, “Sorry, Lady Catherine, I–um...”

“It’s okay, Roy, no offence was taken.”

“Twit,” Trish muttered behind me.

Several of the others said they’d like to go for a ride as well, so Danny was charged with setting up a date during the holiday for them all to get together.

The cardboard box he’d been carrying it transpired held half a dozen shields and other trophies he’d got for sport, mainly football, but now one for cricket. He also presented me with a letter asking me to allow him to play for a junior cricket team at Southsea–apparently one of the teachers at the school helps to run it and would collect and bring him home after the games and practice sessions.

“This clashes with your football school–so you’ll have to make up your mind which you’d like to play?”

“Oh, does it–I didn’t know,” Danny shrugged.

“You were fab at the cricket yesterday,” cooed Trish.

“Yeah, pretty, like, cool,” agreed Livvie. This only caused to send the boy’s decision into even greater uncertainty.

“What should I do, Mum?”

“Why don’t you sleep on it after you talk it over with your dad–he knows more about the football than I do, but I know he used to play cricket.”

“Um–okay.”

I thought it was more appropriate for Simon to deal with that one–although I was happy to buy him extra kit if he needed it. We clambered into the SUV and I drove us to small cafe which did nice ice creams. Swearing them all to secrecy, I bought us all an ice cream soda with which we toasted our sporting hero, then we ate them and went home.

After dinner, Simon made the most of his new role as sports consultant. I was washing up when I noticed all the children except Puddin’ and the babies were in with him. Danny appeared smirking about something.

“I’m playin’ cricket, Dad convinced me,” then he gave me a cheesy grin and went off out into the garden, followed by the others.

Simon appeared and put the kettle on. “Tea?” he asked me.

“Is the Pope a Catholic?” I replied.

“I thought he was German myself,” he replied.

I shook my head and glared at him.

“I think I quite like my son coming to me to ask for advice.”

“Well you’re the one who bought him a new bat.”

“This is true,” he agreed handing me a mug of tea.

“So what was all the secrecy about?”

“What secrecy?” he tried to look innocent.

“Why were all the children in with you? Or was it a committee meeting?”

“Sort of, I sort of offered them a choice.”

“Choice? Choice of what?”

“It doesn’t concern you–you’re going to Bristol, aren’t you?”

“I doubt it, the girls haven’t mentioned it for days, I think they’ve lost interest.”

“Oh, so you might be available?”

“Available–for what?”

“Ah–there’s the rub.”

“C’mon, Cameron, spit it out.”

“Are you available next Saturday and Sunday?”

“To do what?”

“Never mind, are you available?” his eyes were dancing so I knew he had something other than his arms up his sleeves.

“I s’pose so, I was only going to watch the end of the Tour, see if Cavendish could keep the green jersey by winning the sprint in Paris–but I could tape it.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is–now what have I agreed to?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you, but seeing as you’ll kill me if I don’t, I better had.”

“Tell me what?”

“We’re all off to Paris on Saturday, so you can see the end of the race in person.”

I was totally stunned.

“The kids don’t have passports?”

“Yes they do, I organised that a couple of weeks ago.”

“You’re not teasing me, are you?” He had promised once before and it fell through, though it wasn’t exactly his fault.

“Nope, the tickets are in my brief case, we fly from Southampton at mid day, and back on Monday morning.”

“Simon, you are bloody wonderful.”

“So you’re pleased?”

“Of course I am–this tea is exactly how I like it,” I said taking a sip and watching him glare at me.