Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1523

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1523
by Angharad

Copyright © 2011 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
-Dormouse-001.jpg

The days came and went. I carried on in autopilot mode as much as anything. Tom had rejoined the human race but he was obviously suffering his loss. He went to work at the uni but it was obvious he was struggling as was I.

Caroline’s CRB check came through. Julie had been meant to go and see her again but given the things which had happened recently, she’d been unable to go. My course had been postponed until January, so at least I had a few weeks to get my head back in order. I arranged with Jenny and Stella that I’d go to see Caroline, check her out re clothing and general appearance and bring her down with me the next day. I’d stay overnight at my parent’s house and collect her the following morning.

I’d expressed some milk for Catherine, and besides, Stella had enough to supply a cheese factory. They reckoned they’d cope, especially as Simon was still on gardening leave–which was actually what he was doing much of the time when it didn’t rain.

Billie had been gone for nearly ten days, Each one had been an agony because I found myself thinking about her whenever I had nothing else to focus my attention on. I scrubbed floors, washed walls and even cleaned my car inside–it had come back from the police and had been valeted, but I did it again for something to do. It was easier than doing teaching notes and handouts.

Pippa had offered to type my notes if I dictated them, but I usually make alterations as I go, so it was easier to do my own and I’d get them done before January–in theory, anyway.

I drove up to Bristol, checked into my parent’s house, dealt with the mound of mail while I had a sandwich for lunch–I still wasn’t eating properly–changed into something tidier than jeans and sweat top, put on a little makeup and went to collect Caroline.

She had a room, a bedsit–been there done that–in a house off Gloucester Road, which is the main A38, near the cricket ground. I found her address and rang the bell, having parked about fifty yards down the road, which was the only space I could find. I’d slipped the photo of Billie in its case into my bag as I left the car, so I kept her memory with me in a tangible form. It was a lovely photo of her laughing because she was wearing her new school uniform. I sniffed and waited for the door to open.

Caroline was wearing jeans and shirt over a vest thing and looked fairly presentable, certainly better since Julie cut her hair. We hugged briefly and she took me up to her room. It was on the first floor and a reasonable size. She’d obviously been buying clothes because things were hanging on the doors of the wardrobe which I presumed was already full of clothes.

“I’m sorry to hear about your loss,” she said and I thanked her. I showed her my photo of Billie and she said she thought she was a pretty little thing. She was. I held back the tears, and Caroline showed me the stuff she’d bought with the money Julie had taken up to her. She certainly had bucked up her ideas, and the couple of things she modelled for me, looked pretty good, especially with the new hair style and better makeup.

“Julie did quite a job on me, didn’t she?” Caroline observed, viewing herself in the full length mirror in a skirt and jumper.

“You look much better, girl.” I commented which made her blush–it had the same effect on me in the beginning–a sort of pleasant embarrassment–now it’s normality.

She needed some shoes, so we hopped in the car and went up the motorway to Cribbs Causeway, an out of town retail park with loads of shops. I marked the place where we left the car–I tend to get confused and once spent an hour in the Marks and Spencer car park trying to find my car–it has six levels.

I’d looked through her wardrobe and most of her shoes were heels–fine if you can wear them all day without getting sore feet, but most people can’t. I had on a pair of fairly low wedge moccasin type shoes which were comfortable for walking, Caroline wore a three inch court type shoe and before we got to the first shop she acknowledged her feet weren’t as comfortable as she’d like.

We found a nice slip-on loafer which went well with her trousers, in black. She decided to wear them and carry her courts in the bag. She was learning the reality of womanhood–comfort comes before looks unless you’re a teenager.

I bought myself a couple of bras in Marks & Spencer and she grabbed a pack of panties. She also saw a pair of jeans she liked, so we stopped and she tried them on and they fit without needing any alteration.

In a shoe shop we found some knee length boots with a two inch heel that she liked, so we added them to the pile we were carrying. Finally we got some new slippers, a couple of nightdresses and a dressing gown for Caroline and headed back to the car. It was five o’clock and we just got back to her place before the rush hour.

I left her there and went back to my parent’s house, set up the webcam and talked to all the children except Julie, who was still working. I asked them how school had gone and they asked me about Caroline.

I didn’t bother to change to go out for a meal. we went to a Wetherspoon’s pub and the food is adequate for the price. I wasn’t very hungry–I’ve had no appetite since the accident–but I pushed a slice of ham and a couple of eggs round the plate of chips, eating as much as I wanted, which wasn’t a lot.

“You must eat, Cathy, you’re starting to look a bit gaunt, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Yeah, I know, I just don’t fancy anything,” I was just going through the motions. Really, I’d be quite happy if I didn’t see any food ever again–it just made me want to heave. I did eat one of the eggs and a few chips, so by recent standards, a good meal. I had a slice of bread for breakfast tomorrow with which I’d make toast and I had a little pot of jam with me as well.

“Okay, so tomorrow, I’ll collect you at ten. Bring enough clothes for a month–we do have a washing machine and ironing board, as you’ll soon find out.”

“And the trial begins,” she said taking a deep breath.

“You make it sound as if it’s ordeal by combat–mind you with Trish, it might well be.” Caroline gave me a worried look. “I’m only joking, she’ll take you under her wing and mother you.”

“How old is she?”

“Seven, going on twenty seven–that’s her,” I pointed to her in a photo of the whole mob, including their proud dad.

“That’s your husband, is it?”

“Yep, that’s my Simon.”

“Nice looking chap.”

“Yep, but I saw him first,” I smiled and she looked embarrassed.

“Re that, I don’t know what I am anymore. The hormones mean I look at men differently, but until I’m sorted, I’m undecided what I am.”

“Relax, I was only pulling your leg.”

“Simon–he–um knows about me?”

“Yes, they all do.”

“What even the children?”

“Yes, we have no secrets from the children regarding that sort of thing. If they grow up seeing it as just a variation on the norm, hopefully they’ll learn to accept everyone who doesn’t pose a real threat to them.”

“Hello ladies, can we buy you some drinks?” Two thirty something men were standing alongside our table and I saw Caroline look decidedly uncomfortable.

“No thanks, boys. We’re just leaving.”

“Aw go on, stay a little longer,” said the dark haired one.

“I have to go back to feed my baby, my husband is looking after her and his shift will be starting soon.”

“You’re married? What about your friend, she isn’t wearing a wedding ring.”

“Her hubby is in the same branch as mine,” it was total bullshit but so what, they should recognise it. They were full of it themselves.

“Branch? What a bank or something?” asked the fair haired man.

“No, anti-terrorist, they’re Special Branch.”

“You’re shitting me,” said the dark one.

“Would I do that to you? I’ve got a photo of him here winning the marksmanship competition–no wait, it’s here somewhere...” I dug about in my bag but they’d got the message. We both roared with laughter after they left.

“That’s about the first time that’s happened to me.”

“You get used to it,” I shrugged.

“Nah, it only happened because you were with me. You’re a really attractive woman, Cathy.”

“Yeah, so they say. C’mon, let’s get you home. You have to pack yet and I have things to do as well.” So saying, we left the pub and I drove her home, then went back to my parent’s house.

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Comments

Grief has always affected me

Grief has always affected me differently. I may not eat large meals, but I am almost constantly snacking and picking at food through the day. Anxiety eating I think. I have it about under control now, I think, and have been doing better. That constant eating of things not necessarily good for a diabetic was making my glucose level too high. But then stress does too. Who knows? (I know, I know, the Shadow knows. Or maybe none of you are old enough to recall that sorta superhero type.)

CaroL

CaroL

Yes, Some of Us Remember

Yes, some of us remember "The Shadow" with fondness. Some of us are old enough to remember radio before TV ('the telly' in Britspeak) when you would hear characters announce their actions before you heard the sound effect so there was no doubt what was going on, e.g., "I'll just knock on the door." and then you'd hear the sound of knocking.

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

x

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

I'm just catching up with the story

And I have to tell you, you've broken my heart! What a horrible loss! I hope the Shekinah was not behind Cathy's recent problems. This is NOT the way to get her cooperation.

I was so broken up as I read about the funeral, and I can really sympathize with the depression Cathy is going through. When Cathy has one of her anxiety attacks and questions if she is really a mother, I suggest she look back at this. Only a mother can feel this kind of pain (Not to diminish the pain of a Father). She really is a Mom.

I hate this, but I know this isn't a fairy tale. Bad things happen, no matter how much we wish it were not true.

Wren

Grieving

The only thing that's consistent about grieving is that it's inconsistent. There's no pattern to it; no finite time. Time does not heal; it might help us to deal with the situation better by distancing us from the event. The only certainty is that the process of grieving is an essential human function, however long it might take.

Losing a child, or a partner, or a beloved pet, or a parent; each affects everyone in different ways.

Very astutely and sensitively handled, Ang.

Susie

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1523

Can Caroline ease Cathy's grief?

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

I can't imagine what can ease Cathy's grief beside

time.... but I was glad to see she hasn't lost her touch when the men hit on her. She sent them away non-violently and with little hurt feelings. Nice job.

Thank you Angha,

ALISON

Cathy will ease her grief in her own way and in her own time,English women are like that,it is
a very personal thing to them.

ALISON

Maybe just Maybe

the despair and darkness enveloping Cathy is slowly starting to lift, While no one is suggesting that Cathy should not be allowed to grieve in her own way, She does have a duty of care to her other children and needs to try and put the loss of Billie behind her ...

Life will go on and the fact that Cathy actually laughed whilst she was with Caroline shows that the old Cathy is not that far away...And as Cathy will no doubt know Billie may be gone, But she will remain in families heart forever

Kirri

I can't say...

I can't say the hormones made me look at things differently, but that may just be because I don't want them to...

Sounds like Caroline's got some sense in her head... Maybe she'll be able to help Cathy start eating (regularly) again. Easier said than done, I know...

Thank you for the story!

Anne

A Day in the life of...

Just going through the motions of the day in the life of ...

Getting over the death of a younger relative is never easy, especially when the relative is a child. One spends hours just wondering what the child might have become and what might have been.

If anything can heal the wound it's time.

Good chapter Cathy.

Love and hugs... and I'm still lovin' it.

Bev.

OXOXOX

Growing Old Disgracefully

bev_1.jpg

It has never happened to me either,

Wendy Jean's picture

Not sure how I would deal with it. Still, it would be pleasant.

Thinking about it, I didn't count the moron bouncing in his van at the gas station smiling and waving. Yes, it felt good, though there was not a chance in Hades.