Cathy heads back to Portsmouth and a meeting with Stella.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part 83.

Somehow I caught the 'back from lunch' traffic and it took ages to get to the hospital. I missed my bike, once Simon resurfaced I needed to organise getting it back.

I eventually parked up and got to my father's ward, he was with the speech therapist. Wonderful, I could have spent another hour at home, then I recalled how it had spooked me and it was somewhere I didn't feel anything like as happy to be.

About an hour later, a porter wheeled my father back to his bedside, he smiled when he saw me, and with a huge effort said, "C-ath-y," I smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek.

"Well done," I said and kissed him again. Then, seeing he was tired I got straight to business. I gave him his cake, which he smiled at, especially when I reassured him he didn't need a new kitchen. I also told him that the man from the bank was coming tomorrow to see him and that I had to be there as well. I explained that I'd drawn out two hundred pounds, he seemed okay with it and nodded.

I explained that I needed to go back to Portsmouth and that I would be back for the meeting tomorrow. I wasn't enjoying the idea of the long drive each way, but it felt like I should do it and it was a way of avoiding the house at night.

After another fifteen or twenty minutes he was yawning and drifting off to sleep. I'd fed him a cup of tea, hospital variety, and had one myself. He'd also had a slice of cake and enjoyed it. I had a taste too, it was pretty good. Maybe I would bake one for Simon, then my heart sank again. How much space did he want and for how long?

I pecked him goodbye and left him to sleep in his chair. Then I rushed back to the house and packed a few things, then off to Portsmouth. During the drive, I sorted out a few things in my mind and during one spell of stop go driving, sent a text to Stella, telling her I would be back at my flat that night. I also organised an appointment with Prof Agnew for the next morning.

By the time I got back, it was too late to speak to the bike shop and I didn't think I was likely to have time tomorrow morning, especially as I wanted to see my prof. I grabbed a pint of milk at the local shop and the Indian shopkeeper told me he thought I was looking lovelier each day. I blushed and left, hoping I had something in the fridge for my tea, then remembered I had made the rolls.

It was a struggle to carry everything back to my room and took me two trips. On the second I collected my mail, which included the registration documents for the car. Simon really had given it to me, it was two years old and worth at least ten thousand. I felt my hand tremble as I read the document. That was too much money, even if I baked him a cake every night for a hundred years, I couldn't pay him back that sort of money. He was generous to a fault and I felt enormously guilty.

Another envelope contained insurance details and a copy of the covernote in Simon's name with me as the named driver of the car. The insurance form suggested the insured amount was eleven thousand pounds.

I checked the rest of the stuff and one was a letter from the uni telling me my dissertation was accepted and I should attend for the viva the following week. I made a mental note of the day and time, but the prof had already told me my work was good enough for the MSc, so I wasn't too worried. Then I remembered, apart from the prof and the dean and student health, no one else knew about me. Oh shit, that was going to be fun. Oh well, too late now, should have backed out when I could, except Stella had locked the door.

After eating my tea, I went on the net and down loaded a pro forma for a change of name statutory declaration for a change of name. I did the bits necessary to personalise it and printed it off. I would pop into a solicitors near the uni tomorrow and see if they could witness it for me.

My mobile rang and I jumped, I looked at the number calling it was Simon and Stella's house. My heart fluttered as I answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hi Cathy," it was Stella.

"How's your dad?"

"Daddy's fine, well he was until he ate the cake I baked for him."

"You bake cakes?"

"Sort of.....why?" I wondered why she asked me such a question, I mean I'd already confessed to doing so, did she need it in writing?

"Did you know Simon loves cakes?"

"Simon, erm, isn't speaking to me at the moment," I said hesitantly.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure I should talk about it."

"Yes you bloody well should, as my protege, I have a vested interest in your love life."

I felt myself get hotter, part of me wanted to tell her it was none of her business, but the rest knew she'd only get on to Simon if I didn't and besides, if we were to become an item, her help would be essential.

"I erm, don't know how to start.."

"Right girl, get your arse in your new car and meet me at..." she gave me directions to a country pub and to be there in one hour. That would be eight o'clock. I just about had time to change and get there.

Pulling into the pub car park of 'The Barking Duck,' where do they get these names from, I saw Stella's car, and parked alongside? She was sat there making a call on her mobile, she waved and I waited for her to finish.

"That was John, I'm seeing him tomorrow and he had to let me know if he'd got the tickets."

"Did he?"

"Dare he fail?" she said with mock sterness.

"Not if he knows what's good for him."

"Exactly."

"So where are you going?"

"To Southampton to see, 'Lord of the Dance'."

"Is that still going? Crikey my parents saw it two or three years ago."

"It is, and this will be my third time. You should get Simon to take you, you'd enjoy it."

"Right now, I'd settle for a ten minute cuddle with your brother."

"Ooh, you sound as if you have it bad girl." She smiled at me and I blushed profusely. "So tell Auntie Stella what's happened."

"Hasn't Simon said anything?"

"No, he's back up in Town, so I haven't really seen much of him. But last seen he was still gushing about you."

"He ran off and left me on Sunday." I said quite quickly and then began to feel myself tear up.

"What do you mean he ran off?" Stella looked puzzled, "Simon hasn't run for a couple of years."

I explained as best I could in between sobbing fits, when she rubbed my hand. "He doesn't know does he?" I finally managed to ask.

"Not from me he doesn't and as our worlds hardly clash, I doubt from anyone else. Not the way he was talking on Monday before he went to work."

"It's only Monday now, Stella."

"So it is. Well this morning you were still flavour of the month. So it sounds like cold feet. I'll give him space, the lily livered, chicken shit when I'm finished he'll be seeing stars!"

"Please Stella, just let him come around by himself. If it isn't going to work then it isn't going to work. I've got plenty to worry about as it is, what with Daddy and the university."

"I'd still like to slap him," said Stella through her teeth, "my shithead brother. You are perfect for him, and you're also the first girlfriend he's had that I actually like."

"A somewhat imperfect girlfriend," I added.

"Don't worry about that, that can be sorted. Simon is another matter."

"What does that mean?"

"He needs to tell you himself." She took a sip of her wine.

"Now you have me worried, he's not some psycho is he?"

"Nah, it's nothing like that. Look, you don't think I'd let you near him if he was dangerous or anything like that. No he's not a sex fiend or a criminal, he's a bit boring at times but as for the rest he needs to tell you himself."

"Does he have a drink problem or something?"

"Look, let's talk about something else. Bought any new clothes?"

"Only this, I got it in Monsoon on Saturday." I showed her the top I was wearing.

"Is that a skirt I gave you, 'cos I don't recognise it?"

"No, it's one my mother had but had never worn. It's probably twenty years old."

"Stand up girl, let's have a proper look." I did as she asked and she gasped, "Hey it's lovely, goes really well with the top, you're really getting a sense of your own style."

I felt quite chuffed, maybe I was. I had seen the skirt while I was going through my mother's things and put it to one side. There might have been one or two other things, but most of it was destined for Oxfam. There was a plain black wool coat which looked pretty timeless and I thought I could use a bag or two.

"You know, you're a natural at this girly stuff, most of us take years to get where you have in what, three weeks?"

"Something like that," I blushed. I didn't know how much I actually believed Stella. Was she just saying that to build me up or did she mean it? I suppose it didn't really matter, but I did feel I was getting better at becoming me, the me I felt I wanted to be.

Part of me thought that I'd like to get a proper job and earn some money, the rest enjoyed what I did and wanted desperately to keep it that way. I wanted to be the best dormouse woman I could be, that is an expert on mammalian behaviour and ecology related to dormice. If I got the PhD. the prof was on about, I could also look for a teaching post at a uni or perhaps some research abroad. Somewhere like Menorca, they have dormice there too and it was an island I'd quite like to go to, anyway. But all that was for the future, right now I had to organise myself, my father and perhaps Simon as well as my career. It was probably enough to keep me busy for a few days!