The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1058 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

On the Tuesday, after dropping the girls to school, I took Billie out for a ride–we did fifteen miles and she seemed to cope quite well. We bumped into Anne Summers who does triathlons and other silly things. She told me that they needed members to restart the university cycling club.

“I haven’t done any regular cycling for a year or two, let alone any racing.”

“It doesn’t matter, come out for a few training rides–it’ll be nice to have an aristocrat on our team sheet.”

“Don’t you dare! If I race it’ll be under my maiden name, but I don’t have a licence, and I’m too busy, Anne. It’s a lovely idea but with a houseful of kids, it’s not really practicable.”

“Get them to come out with you, like this young un, I’m Anne, what’s your name?”

“Billie,” she said very shyly, blushing furiously.

“Do you think your mum should come out with us?”

“Don’t know,” she said looking at the road as she stood precariously with her legs either side of the crossbar.

“Do you like riding?”

“Yes I do,” she took a sneaky peep at her inquisitor.

“So would you like to ride with us when you’re a bit faster?”

“I dunno–maybe.”

“For goodness sake, Anne, she’s only nine.”

“Nine and she has a road bike?”

“It’s what she wanted.”

“Cor, your mother spoils you, girl–I wish I’d had one at your age.”

“She’s going to buy one for Trish, too.”

“You got shares in a bikeshop?” she joked.

“No, but it was a grave mistake I didn’t.”

“Mummy mends bikes, don’t you, Mummy?”

Now it was my turn to blush.

“You could be our mechanic, Cathy, if you like playing with bikes.”

“I haven’t got time–I’ve another film to organise plus my teaching duties and six kids to look after.”

“Six? Jeez, girl, how did you manage six at your age?”

“I adopted them.”

“You’re a glutton for punishment.”

“That’s as maybe, but they needed a loving home, and I try to give them one.”

“Six kids, talk about a challenge–is she a good mum?” Anne asked Billie.

“No.” As Billie said this I waited for the other shoe to drop and nearly fell off my perch. “She’s the best mummy in the world.” She smirked at me, but then beamed at Anne.

“I reckon she must be to adopt six kids.”

“It all works very well most of the time, they’re all pretty good–because if they’re not, I flog them and lock them in the garden shed which is full of cobwebs and spiders and the roof leaks when it rains. Isn’t it so, young lady?”

“No, she never hits us and doesn’t even shout very often except at Daddy, and usually he’s asked for it.”

“So she’s really an angel in disguise is she?”

“Actually she is, and she uses her powers to make people better.” I was blushing but couldn’t stop Billie gushing without drawing attention to myself.

“D’ya think she could use her powers to make me a better cyclist?” asked Anne, and completely confused Billie.

“No she only does it if you’re ill or hurt.”

“Like the healing angel person who appears at the hospital now and again?”

“That’s her,” Billie pointed at me.

“What your mum?” gasped Anne.

“Don’t be silly, Billie–she’s pulling your leg,” I joked.

“I’m not...”

“Because a kiss and a hug makes them all feel so much better when they feel ill or bash themselves, that’s what she means.” I glared at Billie who went quiet.

“For a moment there I thought I was going to have to check you for wings,” smiled Anne.

“Nah, not me–you’re more likely to find a pair of horns and cloven feet.”

Anne looked at her watch, “Crikey, is that the time? I’ve got to go.”

I looked at mine, “Oops, we have to as well, see you.” I nodded at Billie who remounted her steed and we trundled back home.

“I wasn’t lying, Mummy,” Billie said as we rode.

“I know, sweetheart, but remember you’re not supposed to say anything about that to anyone.”

“But she’s a friend of yours.”

“She’s more of an acquaintance, kiddo. I don’t know her that well; I’ve only ridden with her a few times, that’s all. She’s a good rider, but she’s also a nurse tutor or something, so she could say something unwittingly and then we’d have the press knocking on the door again.”

“I’m sorry, Mummy, I was only trying to say how special you are.”

“I know, darling, but maybe next time just think before you say anything. Like I have to when I introduce you as my daughter instead of my son.”

“But I am your daughter now.”

“Yeah, but you were my son for a bit longer, so I have to think what I say about you.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Come on, it looks like rain.” We put on a bit of a spurt and got the bikes back in the shed just as drops of heavy rain began to fall. “Oh well, it’s what the gardeners were praying for,” I said as we walked back to the house.

It rained off and on for the rest of the day, and much to my embarrassment, it took me several minutes to find the windscreen wipers on the new car. Billie stayed home with Julie, and when I left they were loading the bread machine–so hopefully we’ll have some fresh bread for breakfast tomorrow, if the scavengers don’t eat it all before then.

“Can you play chess, Mummy?” Trish asked as we scampered to the car.

“Why, darling?”

“Sister Maria was showing us how to do it. I like the horsey ones best.”

“Were you playing too, Livvie?”

“Yeah, my old dad showed me the moves, but I think it’s boring.”

“Daddy plays, I think, and I expect Gramps does too.”

“Can’t you, Mummy? I’ll show you, the horse moves forward one and then goes two to the side, or forward two and one to the side. Oh it can go backwards too, Mummy. Mummy?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“It’s the only the horsey that can jump over the others.”

“It’s not a horse, it’s called a knight,” Livvie said loudly and Trish shut up for two seconds.

“What’s going on over there?” I asked out loud, puzzled by a young man and an older woman who were having an animated conversation with lots of gesticulating going on. “Something not right.” Then in the next moment, he pushed her and she fell over and he ran off with her bag.

I stopped the car and told the kids to stay put, while I struggled with my coat in the wind and rain. The woman didn’t appear to be moving. I looked back to the car, “Trish, call for an ambulance,” I shouted back to her.

I bent down to examine her and could see blood oozing out from the back of her head, she had a pulse but it was quite weak but she was still breathing. I had nothing with me to use as a dressing and I wasn’t wearing a skirt, so I couldn’t do the bit they do in the cowboy films and rip off half my petticoat and bind her head.

Trish called back to ask where we were for the ambulance, and I glanced up at a street sign and shouted back. By now a group of people were gathering, and we managed to hold a couple of umbrellas over the supine woman.

Someone suggested putting a coat under her head, but I advised against moving her as we didn’t know what injuries she had. The blood was oozing faster now and I felt very concerned.

“They’re coming, Mummy,” Trish yelled from the car. A couple of minutes later sirens were heard and a police car arrived, he put his waterproof over the woman and realising he couldn’t do anything else he asked if anyone saw what happened.

“I did, a young man was arguing with her and he pushed her, she fell and I think she must have banged her head. He ran off with her bag.”

“Can I take your name, madam?”

“Sure, it’s Cathy Cameron.”

“That’s not Lady Cameron, is it?”

“Yes, why?”

“Things do seem to happen when you’re about, don’t they?”

“Really? It’s just coincidence, you know.”

“I’m sure it is, Lady Cameron.”

Sirens sounded and an ambulance arrived and we all stepped aside for the paramedics to do their job. They seemed to know the policeman.

As I went back to my car having given my address to the young copper, Trish announced, “I took a picture of it.”

“Of what, sweetheart.”

“The man knocking the old lady down.”

“Show me,” I urged hoping she hadn’t, but she had. In fact she had done it on video so we had the whole episode. I was obviously honour bound to show the policeman and took it from her to show him.

He walked over to the car and said to her, “Hello, Trish–well you’re a clever young lady, aren’t you.”

“My teacher says so. I beat her at chess today.”

I shook my head, why didn’t it surprise me? And worse, she wanted me to admit I could play–no way. The way I play, she’d humiliate me in a few games.
“Do you mind if I borrow your phone to show my boss these pictures?” asked the copper.

“I suppose so,” sighed Trish, probably unaware that her cleverness had put her in an invidious position. She is very possessive of her phone.

“I’ll bring it back when we’ve finished.”

Yeah, I thought, in six months time.