The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1552 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“What shall I wear?” Caroline looked at me and I just blinked. I had three daughters and a boy to get ready and she’s asking me what to wear. “I mean how formal will it be?”

“Smart casual is fine, but not jeans.”

“Can you show me?”

“Julie–can you help Caroline sort out an outfit for tonight?” I called the birthday girl and also indicated with a look that I wanted her to exercise restraint on Caroline’s appearance.

Then I rounded up the girls and sent them up to shower while I decided what they’d wear. I pulled out a dress for each of them and hung them on the wardrobe door, they’d also wear long white socks and black bar shoes.

It wasn’t long before giggling towel clad children came trotting into the bedroom, all wrapped in bath towels with a smaller towel on their heads turban style. At least they had put their dirty underwear in the laundry hamper. I told them to get dressed in a clean pair of panties and camisole and wait for me to come and do their hair before I dashed into the shower before Simon came up.

It was probably about fifteen minutes later that I was in my own undies, with a towel wrapped round my wet hair styling the girls’ hair into something other than the ponytails they usually wore to school. They helped each other dress to avoid spoiling their hair styles and I went off to do my own. I dried it, combed it and put it up, using one of those ring things over which it sort of cascaded, or that was the intention. It didn’t work to my satisfaction and as Julie was busy with Caroline or getting herself ready, I had to keep playing with my own hair.

I ended up with doing a raise like a ponytail at the back of my head, which dropped over the hair which I pulled back from the sides, so the majority of my hair was at the back of my head. The red shade had washed out to leave a sort of honey blonde effect, which seemed to suit me, although it was slightly lighter than my natural colour, which, given my recent experiences, would not have surprised me had it gone grey. Fortunately, it hadn’t.

I drew on a dress with a lacy plunge top, which probably revealed far too much of my chest, but which I knew would have Simon’s full attention. I sniggered as I recalled a joke that had been sent to me recently, it went something like: ‘Apple have now developed speakers small enough to implant in women’s breasts. The i-Tit as it will be called, was developed following complaints by women that men stared at their chests and didn’t listen to them.’

I did my makeup and wore the sapphire necklace and earrings my mother had given me, which matched my engagement ring. A squirt of Coco and I was ready. I’d wear a black jacket to keep me warm.

I was impressed with Julie’s creative efforts on Caroline and she had kept it respectable. Caroline was dressed in a black skirt with a black skinny top over which Julie had draped a set of red beads and a red and black scarf. She’d added a red belt and Caroline’s own red shoes to give a stylish outfit which was fine for this evening.

The next issue was transport. I opted to drive the Mondeo with the littlies and Stella. Si was taking my car with Danny and the girls, and Tom drove Julie and Caroline in his Freelander. We all set off at seven fifteen and pulled into the hotel in Southsea some twenty minutes later.

Simon assembled the troops–he likes to pretend he’s in charge–and we ‘marched’ into the hotel reception moments before it rained. It wasn’t so much a march as a saunter–at least for Stella and me, helped by the girls as we carried babies and associated impedimenta to be met by their baby sitting people. Julie sashayed, swinging her tail in the short leather skirt she wore over footless tights, which made Simon blush and the girls snigger. Caroline managed to walk reasonably well in the heels she wore without looking too much like a zombie on stilts.

Henry and Monica were waiting at our reserved table. Now divested of the babies, Stella and I could strut our stuff with the rest of them. We brought up the rear with our bulging bodices–she had as much cleavage on display as I did–both of us courtesy of breast feeding and both wearing little pads inside our bras to mop up any leakage.

Henry was introduced to Caroline, who was immediately hijacked by Monica, much to Stella’s amusement. I allowed Henry to peck me on the cheek and he does the same each time, ‘Cathy, run away with me, leave that idiot son of mine–make me happy.’ I always say no, and he shrugs and says in an exaggerated Scots accent, ‘Aye, a’ richt.’ Then we both laugh. Tonight was no exception.

Henry ordered wine and I reminded Si that if he was driving my car with my kids in it, he was to have no more than two small glasses. Henry was horrified, and called for a waiter to ask for the family suites to be made ready for tonight. As Stella and I were breastfeeding, we declined the alcohol, although I suspect a small amount wouldn’t do much harm.

There was no tuna on the menu, so I opted for salmon poached with watercress–Henry joked that they were probably stolen from the same river. I told him that it was unlikely, as they lived in different habitats–salmon liked a faster flowing water than watercress did. He riposted saying he hadn’t seen watercress swim. I told him that was because he preferred faster flowing rivers, but in my field work I had seen watercress in such slow water, it was like soup. It took him a moment to see my joke.

As I’d had pá¢té for my starter, I finished with a lemon sorbet and some tea instead of coffee. Julie had had two glasses of wine and was blushing, and Caroline seemed to be hanging on every word Monica said. I knew I was going home after the meal and so was Stella. Tom was looking happy and he and Simon definitely had more than a couple of glasses of the Rioja Henry had ordered.

When Henry announced there was dancing in the ballroom for those who wanted it, Stella, Tom and I were the only ones who stayed seated at the table. Tom was nodding off, and Stella and I didn’t fancy shaking our stuff in case we fell out of our dresses. We both fell about laughing when we discussed that. We also decided that we’d take two cars back with us–she drive the Mondeo with littlies in it and I’d drive mine with whichever of the children wanted to come home with us. I expected Mima would and I knew Danny was playing football the following morning.

Julie was really letting her hair down when we went down into the ballroom to reclaim the children, except they were all having fun dancing round each other. Henry was dancing with Julie, and Monica had Caroline well surrounded.

As soon as he saw me, Simon grabbed me and we waltzed round the ballroom, some chap he knew did the same with Stella. Okay, so our trip home was delayed, but by eleven, with rapidly flagging children, we made our way to the cars, Henry having agreed to send Julie home by eight the next morning by taxi if necessary. She was going to struggle going to work, but I was absolutely determined she would go.

Stella, her two little ones, Catherine, three very tired girls and Danny helped me carry everything back into the house. Danny let Kiki out and the way she shot out the door, I think she badly needed to go–she’s a very clean dog. I think Stella and I finally got to bed about half past midnight, sharing a quick cuppa before we went. I checked on the girls and Danny and they were all fast asleep. I read for a bit, alone in my bed while my husband, last seen cavorting on a dance floor stayed at the hotel. So much for the plunge bra, which I was sure would get him wanting to rush me off to bed. Seems that this time I got it wrong instead I fell asleep with Commissario Guido Brunetti in hot pursuit of some Venetian law breaker.