The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1513 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I’m not sure I remember all the silly things I did for the remainder of that day and much of the next. I went to put the milk in the oven and the cereal in the fridge. I made up a bread mix and forgot to switch the machine on. After a while I had Trish following me round to see if I remembered all I was supposed to do.

Jenny was a godsend, she looked after the kids much of the time. I did take them out on the bikes on the Wednesday and we spent an hour or two cycling round one or two bike paths and along the front. At least I got that right, and once again began to realise that Billie had a bit of talent in that area.

Danny was riding Stella’s bike, and he shot off ahead of us all then came back after a while. Billie asked if she could chase him if he did it again and I told her she could if she stayed on the cycle path and took care not to hit anyone–cyclist or walker. You sometimes get people walking dogs and they seem to leave their brains behind when they start perambulating Fido–and those extending leads are a total menace. The number of times I’ve nearly come off or decapitated some poor little pooch because I didn’t see the extended lead.

The dog owners get so snotty too. They don’t care or realise that they have a duty not to put themselves in harm’s way by being a traffic hazard–and that includes keeping an eye out for cyclists. And, why do they bother picking up dog poo in a plastic bag and then toss it into the hedge? Very biodegradable–not.

Anyway back to the Cameron’s very own Tour de Pompey, Danny shot off again after commenting how boring it was at Mima’s pace. This time Billie was just waiting for him to go and she flew after him. Okay, he’s bigger and stronger and not taking oestrogens, but he picked the wrong place and with the rise in the path elevation, he slowed and she didn’t–she passed him and he nearly fell off with shock. We could just see it from where we were. Of course he then went off after her and the next thing they were both hammering back towards us and nearly hit Livvie off her bike as they came past us. Trish yelled at them as well, not that it had any effect.

I warned the others that if they did the same again, I was going to race them so they were to continue to stay together and catch us up as they could. I think they understood. Our two sprinters caught us up again and it wasn’t more than about ten minutes before Danny was off again and Billie was hard on his wheel. I pulled over the verge and went up the road clicking up the gears as I stood on the pedals. They had a lead of about fifty yards by the time I got going and it was hard work catching them, which I did eventually–having to get to over twenty miles an hour to do so.

Of course, I was all sorts of a cheat for chasing them, which left me speechless–that and the fact I was puffing like on old steam engine.

Thursday it rained, and because it was such fun, it rained some more. I had a house full of irritable children, two or three of whom wanted to cycle again–not in that weather.

We went shopping–that was a mistake–apart from the food we bought on the way back–nearly two hundred quid–they all wanted something from the George section. Asda is part of the Walmart group so I tend to avoid it, but that’s where they wanted to shop, so we did.

Actually, George stuff is quite good, especially for the money–I try not to think about the sweatshops where it was probably made. The girls each had a top or a skirt, Danny had some new jeans, I chose some knickers for each of the girls and some underpants for Danny. We also got some panties for Puddin’ and some little vests for Fiona.

We had an early tea, I did a casserole which I made in sufficient quantity to keep some for Simon and James if they wanted some. I wasn’t very hungry, so I just had a couple of biscuits and a cup of tea.

To get to Heathrow for half past seven was going to be a nightmare–just catching the rush-hour traffic at its worst. However, that’s what I had to do. I had several volunteers offer to keep me company but I wanted to be alone–part of me actually hoped James would head off as soon as I picked up Simon. I just wanted to be with my man, if only for a few minutes before we went home.

I hate Heathrow and most other large airports, you can’t stop anywhere near where the arrivals exit the building–especially after the attack on Glasgow airport a couple of years ago. I parked in a short stay space–how can they charge those sorts of fees? It’s just ridiculous. The car park was going to cost almost as much as the fuel to get there. Bloody robbery and just about daylight, too.

I had an hour to wait. Si was supposed to text or call me when he was through customs and I’d drive out and collect him and possibly James. I sat listening to the radio and I think I must have nodded off–I hadn’t slept very well since he’d been away–because one moment I was listening to Radio 4 and the next minute I wasn’t.

I can’t have locked the car because, the first thing I knew about anything was being woken with a hand over my mouth–from behind and an American voice saying, “Just keep quiet, bitch, and you’ll be okay, got it?”

I nodded.

“I have a gun aimed at the small of your back, even if it doesn’t kill you, you’ll be in wheelchair for the rest of your life–understand?”

I nodded. Shit–this bastard seemed to know what he was doing. Who was he and what was he? I could only assume it was an advance guard to get Simon and possibly James as well.

“I’m going to take my hand from your mouth–I don’t want to hear a sound–okay? So no questions–I’ll give you instructions as and when you need them–so just sit quiet and listen to your radio–an’ don’t try nothin’–or you’ll be dead or crippled.”

My heart was pounding.

“Nice seats these, there won’t be much of a bang if I have to shoot you, just a nice big hole in you, an’ that would be a shame on the walnut dash.”

What was I going to do? I was fresh out of ideas. I couldn’t move out of the seat very quickly and to make matters worse, he made me put my seat belt on. Even Houdini would have been challenged to escape from this one.

Sweat ran down my back and a trickle went from under my arm, the adrenaline was flowing and I knew I was going to die, because if he thought I’d lead him to Simon, he was singularly mistaken.