Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1615

The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1615
by Angharad

Copyright © 2012 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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I just can’t go with all this stuff about goddesses, as for seeing Billie–it makes my hair stand on end. Perhaps I carry some of her in my magnetic field or people sense it from me and then think they’ve seen her. It would explain why I don’t. However, I took Trish with me when we went to see Julie.

Trish of course had to try healing Julie as soon as they finished the initial hug. Trish had her hand on part of Julie which I couldn’t have touched and I looked away while Julie exclaimed it was tickling her.

As I glanced round I noticed the old lady, Mrs Pennecuik seemed to be lying down. I tried to ask Julie if she was okay but my eldest daughter was well away in some sort of bliss while Trish pumped energy into her.

I went over to the bed, for a moment I thought the old biddy had croaked, but her chest was rising and falling so she was presumably breathing. In looking at her I must have touched the bed because she opened her eyes and stared at me for a moment before recognising me.

“Ah, Lady Cameron, you gave me bit of a start.”

I blushed, “I’m sorry, I’m came to see how you are,” which was generally true.

“I had a visitor this afternoon.”

I smiled, “An old friend I expect.”

“No, a young woman who is now headmistress of my old school.”

“Oh Sister Maria came to see you?” I feigned surprise.

“Seeing as you told her about me you could hardly be surprised now, could you?”

“Did I? I must have forgotten.”

“You’re a poor liar, my dear: she told me you said about me to her and she had to check back in the archives to find my maiden name.”

“Oh, did they?”

“Yes, it was Watts, or did you know that?”

“No I didn’t. It was my maiden name as well as my daughter’s original surname.”

“You had her out of wedlock, I’m disappointed in you, Lady Cameron.”

“No, she’s adopted, it was pure coincidence that we had the same surname.”

“Are from hereabouts?”

“Me? No, I’m from Bristol but was born in Dumfries, my paternal grandmother lived there.”

“Interesting, what was her name? Her Christian name, I mean.”

“Hannah.”

“And she lived in Dumfries?”

“Yes.”

“Curious,” she said and stared at me.

“What is?” Now she had me puzzled.

“I had an elder sister in law, Hannah who lived in Dumfries, in a house called Tam o’Shanter’s Cottage.”

I felt quite dizzy. “Are you all right, my dear?” she asked as I sat down heavily on the chair by her bedside.

“That was my Grandmother’s house, I’ve got a photo of it somewhere at home.”

“D’you know the name of your grandfather?”

“Um–I think it was Robert.”

“That was my brother, he died in nineteen seventy...”

“From lung cancer, he smoked a pipe.”

“Oh dear, it seems we could be related.”

“So how come I’ve never heard of you?” I asked as I felt my head clearing.

“Ah, black sheep–I was the archetypal romantic, clever intellectually but not so clever in dealing with life. I was reading physics at Cambridge when I came into contact with Professor Schrodinger. I fell in love with him.”

“Trish mentioned you knew Schrodinger, she’s always worried about his cat dying.”

She laughed quietly, “Erwin wouldn’t have hurt a fly, he was into all sorts of Eastern philosophies.”

“I believe he was into rather strange household arrangements as well.”

“Oh, our little ménage á¡ trois?”

“Um–yes,” I squeaked and went very hot.

She looked at me and chuckled. “I didn’t have you down as a prude, Lady Cameron.”

“I’m not,” I blushed even hotter if it was possible, “I’m just not into that sort of arrangement.”

“It was fun while it lasted, in Ireland of all places, then I came back to England and met Willoughby, he was such an accommodating man, let me have little flings as long as I described them to him afterwards.”

“So do I have any long lost cousins?”

“Sadly no. Willoughby was a lovely man but pretty well impotent–least he was with me. I think he might have been, you know...”

“Um–do I?”

“Yes, you know, one of them–you know, prefers other men.”

“Gay you mean?”

“Oh that much maligned word, in my day, gay had an altogether different meaning–now it feels as if...no matter, who cares what a silly old woman thinks?”

“Words do change their meanings, I mean a hundred and fifty years ago or maybe a little longer, the word girl referred to a young child of both sexes.”

“Did it now?”

“And all children were dressed as females until school age, if schools were available.”

“Are you a historian, Lady Cameron?”

“Um–no, I’m a biologist.”

“Ah, the soft sciences.” She chuckled to herself.

“I don’t know, I found it hard enough to study.”

“Compared to physics it’s somewhat imprecise.”

“Is it? My speciality is mammals, especially dormice.”

“Lovely little furry things–but what is hard science about them?”

“I can take a sample from them and get DNA analyses tracking their ancestry back for a thousand generations. It’s hard fact.”

“So, your point is?”

“That’s a soft science, but tell me, what is the universe made of? Seems like even dark matter and energy may be wrong after all–so it appears physics and chemistry aren’t so grounded after all.”

She laughed loudly. “Oh how funny–you should be a comedienne or a barrister.”

I sat there blushing furiously.

“You must be my great niece, only a Watts would use such logic–all wrong of course but most entertaining.”

A nurse arrived and shooed me away back to my two offspring. It seems my newly discovered great aunt was not to get too excited. The curtains were drawn round her bed and visiting time was over. Julie declared she felt much better and hoped to come home soon. Trish was full of herself as the healer dealer. I was still in shock at the discovery that I had a great aunt I knew nothing about. I would have to come and see her again. If nothing else she was quite a character.

Julie was discharged the next day, so possibly Trish had cured her first patient. I didn’t get to go back to the hospital for another week life was just so busy. I discovered that Mrs Pennecuik or my great aunt, had been sent to a hospice. When I asked if she had a terminal illness the staff would disclose nothing–patient confidentiality and all that.

It took me two weeks to find her, just in time to see her waste away. She was too weak to hold a conversation and there was so much I wanted to know about my family. She seemed pleased I’d been to see her and when I said goodbye, promising to come the next day, we both knew she wouldn’t be there.

The next morning I had a call from the hospice. “Lady Cameron, Mrs Pennecuik has very sadly passed away, she was in no pain and died in her sleep very peacefully. She gave you as next of kin, so perhaps you’d care to arrange her funeral.”

I put down the phone and felt tears run down my face. I’d lost someone who was quite a character and from whom I could have learned such a lot about all sorts of things. I also had another funeral to arrange. Bugger, I’d have to see if there was a will or instructions for the funeral–perhaps she was a bohemian as her erstwhile lover. Oh poo, more work.

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