The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1575 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The curry was a moderate success, and the partakers thereof smiled. Even Tom smiled a little though it should have been chicken, not turkey, and a bit hotter than I was prepared to make it for the children. It didn’t worry me, I’d pleased the majority, and he does eat the stuff with such monotonous regularity his guts must either be scorched to hell or like firebrick.

I ate my omelette in relative peace and quiet and it was also enjoyed by Puddin’ and my little one, who is mostly talking gibberish but does say the odd word–some are very odd.

After clearing up we watched some film on the telly with James Bond wearing cowboy hat and fighting aliens or something–I think I preferred the animation with Reese Witherspoon we saw on Christmas Day. I left them to it and did some survey work on my computer and ate a few of my hidden biscuits The way I hid them and ate them in secrecy made me feel like an alcoholic must do when they hide their habit. I’d have to buy loads of packets next time and hope the kids didn’t like them too much. I couldn’t do that with alcohol, so maybe there is a difference.

I daydreamt for a moment while some photo or other was downloading.
‘I’m Cathy Cameron and I’m a biscuitoholic,’ Nah doesn’t sound right and as for a ten or twelve stage plan and belief in a supreme being, who isn’t called Obama–nah, not for me.

Besides which if you give up chocolate, biscuits and cycling–you don’t live longer, it just feels like North Korea. They probably do loads of cycling over there, oh well better get a move on. I finished up the most recent tranche of letters/reports and closed down the computer.

Livvie came through to see where I was, “Can I have a biscuit, Mummy?” for a moment I thought my secret was undone–then realised she was just asking out of politeness before laying waste the biscuit tin.

“There’s some mince pies there I think.”

“Can I have it hot with cream?”

“I’ll come and do it for you, see if anyone else wants one, will you?” She ran off and I went back to the kitchen, we had probably about eight left and half a tub of cream. Of course everyone but Tom wanted one. I counted them on my fingers. There were eight. Being full of biscuits, I didn’t want any, so it was just about right. I popped them in the Aga and about twelve minutes later they were ready. I put them on a plate and poured a spoonful of cream over each one and then helped Livvie and Trish carry them into the lounge. Tom was in his study, presumably having a wee nip o’ somethin’.

I returned to the kitchen and put the kettle on, Julie had come down with Tash and had a cuppa with me, they’d been upstairs listening to music–or said they had. I couldn’t do anything about it, except trust them and hope I wasn’t being too naíve.

After I got the girls to bed and then Danny, I felt whacked. I asked Jenny if she needed Stella and me to get her to bed and she told me that Caroline could manage it; so I said goodnight and went to bed. Julie and Tash wanted to watch some late night film and Simon eventually came on up apparently after realising he was playing gooseberry. “An’ it’s my bloody telly,” he whinged as he undressed, I was trying to sleep but was still upset by the Caroline and Jenny relationship.

“What’s the matter?” he asked me and I told him. “Oh for God’s sake, Cathy, just let them get on with it, if they mess up, it isn’t your fault is it?”

“If I hadn’t brought her back for Christmas...”

“But you did, and for the best of reasons, you couldn’t have known what would happen.”

“I should have seen it coming?”

“Why?”

“Because we had two lonely damaged people who I was bringing together, it had to be on the cards–I knew it really–I just didn’t foresee the outcome.”

“Hang on a mo, you brought Jenny back knowing that Caroline would go for her?”

“Sort of, I wasn’t sure, but back then, part of me wanted them to get together, because they were lonely and everyone else had someone.”

“You were matchmaking?”

“Perhaps I was.”

“In which case, it serves you right, manipulating them like that–except it didn’t go quite as you planned, did it?” Adding a moment later, “You’re like someone out of a Jane Austen novel, matchmaking and manipulating.”

“Mrs Gaskell is better at writing those sorts of characters.”

“Whatever, just let it go. If you interfere again, you’ll only make things worse.”

“I’ll try.” I did try, but not too successfully I had several dreams which upset me, and I kept waking up feeling their relationship was doomed. I also woke up worrying about Julie and her operation–what if it wasn’t a success? I arranged it all, so it would be my fault again. I wondered if I could get a job as a warden on an island somewhere that was uninhabited–preferably one with dormice on it. Nah, I’d miss the kids and Simon, and depending upon my mood and needs, not necessarily in that order. I turned over and watched him sleeping–like a plump angel. I gently stroked his arm and he smiled–still fast asleep.

I was up early, then discovered our two pairs of lovers had been up all night–not together–but in adjacent rooms. Seems they talked the night away. Part of me felt amused by this and part of me felt jealous. It seemed a long time ago that Si and I had done such things and now we were knee deep in children.

I went and fetched Catherine and fed and bathed her, then while we waited for the others to wake, we sat looking at a book and she pointed at things and in her baby gibberish told me what they were–not that I’d ever seen a purple and green zebra, but that may be due to my specialising in European mammals of the small and cuddly variety.

Finally Simon came down and was followed by yawning children, all female, who wanted food, and quickly. It was a pity he couldn’t take them with him to Southampton and I’d have sneaked back to bed for a couple of hours. Oh well, the joys of parenthood.

Julie and Tash went up to bed and would sleep until lunch time, I felt like joining them, I was beginning to fade and momentarily woke up to see Simon and Caroline take Jenny back to Southampton. I saw them off, Jenny thanking me for a much better Christmas than she’d expected or deserved. She was still playing games, and I refused to join in, shrugging and wishing her well with her therapy. I waved them off in the company of the three girls and we went back in and began clearing up the mess.

I went and collected the dirty laundry and asked Trish to sort it for me, then Livvie would put it in the washer and Meems would transfer it to the drier. Because it can be quite hot, I usually empty the drier. We had two lots to do and it took much of the morning, especially as I began to iron it straight after the drier.

Lunch was a sandwich, and Simon arrived back by himself–Caroline had opted to stay with Jenny for a few hours and would find her own way back.

Two conflicting lines went through my head, ‘Love makes fools of us all,’ that Shakespeare guy knew his stuff didn’t he? The second is a Swedish proverb: ‘Love me when I least deserve it, because that’s when I really need it.’ Life sure is complicated.