The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1509 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The next day seemed to drag, I did chores or amused the children in between feeding them. Caroline phoned while I was out–I’d forgotten all about her since this business with Simon. Now what did I do? We’d sent off the CRB form, but they take ages to clear. What could I tell her–except to get a decent haircut and some new clothes. I asked Julie to go and see her and gave her a couple of hundred quid to get her a new outfit or two. Julie’s eyes widened into saucers at this opportunity for some fun–I did warn her to keep things normal–so none of her outlandish ideas. Caroline was to be a nanny cum housekeeper, not a disco dancer. She went off to call Caroline and set up a date.

Eventually, James called–he’d found Simon, who was not best pleased to be chaperoned. He pointed out the risks of dealing with ‘these ruffians’–a phrase which had me snorting. Personally, I thought they were total cads, or the vernacular equivalent, which isn’t usable in a children’s story–and it goes without saying that none of them had parents who were married.

The girls were in bed and Danny was sitting reading a football magazine when he asked where Simon was?

“How should I know?” I lied back to him.

“Because you would.”

“How d’you know that?”

“Because I do. You went to stop him killing himself, didn’t you?”

“Where did you hear that?” I was going to blister whoever had told him.

“I overheard you talking with Auntie Stella. He was at Beachy Head, wasn’t he? People only go there for one reason.”

“To admire the view?”

“Yeah, on the way down.”

“What are you implying?”

“I just told ya, you went to stop him jumping over the cliff.”

“Can you prove it?”

“I dunno, look, I’m not goin’ to tell anyone, am I?”

“I hope not.”

“He’s my dad, and you’re my mum–I won’t do anythin’ to hurt you ever, I owe you both too much.”

“You owe neither of us anything. We adopted you because we wanted to, because we wanted you. We are both so proud that you decided to come to us as our son.”

He came over to me and hugged me, and I pulled him down to sit on my lap and I held him. “I love you, Mum,” he said and buried his face in my shoulder. He was sniffing, and I suspect, trying not to cry.

“I love you too, son, now are you going to tell me what the problem is?”

“I don’t want Dad to die,” he said then burst into tears.

“What gave you that idea?”

He sobbed for a couple of minutes and was inarticulate, eventually he got himself under control and he told me that he was worried that Simon had gone off to kill himself.

“He isn’t going to do that–he’s trying to clear his name.”

“But the bad guys are in like, America.”

“I had noticed. That’s where Daddy is, trying to meet with them.”

“But they could shoot him or get someone else to.”

“Yes, I know, which is why I asked James to go and act as his minder.”

“James the commando bloke?”

“The very same.”

“Thank you, Mummy, I was so worried.”

“That’s okay, now I think it’s bedtime, don’t you?”

“Okay,” he got off my lap and pecked me on the cheek. “Mummy?”

“Yes, darling.”

“Can I have the old Jaguar when I’m old enough?”

“Oh–I can’t honestly say one way or another. To start with we might have to sell it to help pay off Daddy’s case.”

“Gosh, a billion is a thousand million–is that what that car is worth?”

“No, of course not. It’s only half a billion, and in someways I’m glad they use the American billion these days.”

“Why?”

“Because originally a billion was a million million, but it seems some of the colonials couldn’t count that far.”

“Wow–that’s like loads more, isn’t it?”

“Just a bit.”

He went off to bed and I checked on him half an hour later. He was fast asleep with a book open but face down on his chest. I looked at the title, it was Caroline Cossey’s autobiography. Why was he reading that, and when did he take it? I checked the others and they were fast asleep.

Catherine was restless, so I fed her which relaxed me as well. Cossey might have been a Bond girl with Roger Moore as 007, but she can’t breast feed as far as I know. Why do we always get catty when we think someone is more beautiful than we are? I could never model anything, but then she can’t act–oops, there I go again–miaow.

I sorted the baby and went downstairs to lock-up. Tom was in bed, as were the other adults. I looked in on Julie when I went to bed and she was asleep, her little flat screen TV still on, albeit very quietly. I switched it off.

After cleaning my teeth, I got into bed and felt the absence of my partner and bedmate. I hoped he was alright, assuming that no news was good news. I fell asleep eventually, putting out the light after I’d read some of my book–a whodunit by Donna Leon.

I was vaguely aware that someone had got into bed with me, I assumed in my somnolent state that it was Simon, however, when I woke the next day Trish was tucked into my back. I lay there and watched her for a while before an eyelid fluttered and she opened it and looked at me. I’m not sure that she actually saw anything, because it closed again and she seemed to resume sleeping, then a few minutes later it opened for the second time and then so did the other eye. She seemed disoriented for a moment. I smiled at her and she beamed back and then yawned and stretched.

“To what do I attribute this honour, young lady?”

“I went for a wee in the night and thought you might be lonely.”

“I see, and was I?”

“I didn’t ask, you were snoring.”

“Snoring? I don’t snore–do I?”

“Not as loud as Daddy does, he sounds like tractor.”

“Are you teasing me?” I checked.

“No, honestly, Mummy–you was snorin’.”

“Okay, so were you?”

“ Meeee?

“Yep, that’s why I was awake before you?”

“But I can’t snore, Mummy, I’m just a little kid.”

“You sounded more like a piglet than a baby goat.”

“Uggh, that’s like, horrible.”

“This little piggy went to market...” I tickled her and she squealed. “See, I told you you were more like a piglet than a goat.” She laughed and ran off to the bathroom to wee.

While she was gone I checked my mobile, a text from Simon: ‘Easy peasy, Ive appt with bank 2moro.’

I sent one back: ‘Be careful–the kids r v worried 4 u. I luv u. Cxxx’

My phone peeped, I picked it up expecting a response from my most recent text, instead it was one from James. ‘so fa so gud, S made contact–meet 2moro–will keep eyes wide open. J.’

I sent him one back: ‘Ty, do keep him safe. C.’

Trish emerged from the bathroom and another day in paradise began...