We continued drinking our teas and talking until we were interrupted by a shout of anguish. I jumped up and ran out into the lounge.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"Kiki, she's rolled in horse shit and gone belting out through the hole in the fence."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part 173.

I waited until the dishwasher had finished, then emptied it, checking everything as I did, I have known them miss bits, but it was all sparkling clean. The glasses I'd collected, were washed and dried long since.

The kitchen having been restored to a state of order, I went off to see what the others were doing. "Grab us a bottle of red will you babes," asked Simon, otherwise deep in conversation with Tom about cricket and England being humiliated by Sri Lanka or India or someone.

I went off and got them some more wine. I felt like protesting but, they were both ready to drink it. Obviously Stella would be driving.

I checked on the girls, "More coffee or tea?"

"Tea would be nice," said Stella and Pippa nodded. "Come and sit and talk with us when you've made it."

"Yes ma'am," I curtseyed, then dashed out before she threw something at me.

Taking the pot of tea and some biscuits in, I poured us each a cup and then sat down to listen to the conversation.

"Where have you been?" asked Stella.

"Emptying the dishwasher, checking around the kitchen and reading the paper."

"So any mention of anything?"

"There was mention of the film clip on Youtube about the dormouse, as being one of the funniest press conferences ever. But nothing about me per se."

"Nah, we went through the tabloids and none of them had anything."

"So what does that mean?" I asked.

"Could be no one has noticed or that it's no longer newsworthy, which it isn't."

"If Simon wasn't involved or that ruddy dormouse, I would agree. But unfortunately, the two of them mean there is a story." I said.

"It's pretty pathetic though isn't it?" Pippa said it as if she was annoyed. "Can't they find real stories to write about?"

"Transsexuals tend to be vulnerable and cheap to hit," I suggested, "plus they use the excuse of, 'public or human interest' to justify their intrusion."

"I spoke to Daddy this morning, and he has had a statement prepared, which says something to the effect that, 'He isn't worried what you may or may not have been, only that you are a lovely young woman now of whom Simon is justly proud, and deeply in love."

"Awww that is just so sweet," said Pippa.

"Perhaps a trifle over cooked," I observed and Stella winked at me then smirked.

"I said much the same, but he was happy with it. Anyway, he's showing solidarty with us but not starting anything. He had another one prepared in case they ask for a statement for something else."

"What do you mean something else?" asked Pippa.

"Well if they just get wind that something is in the air but don't know what. I mean Cathy stopping a car load of journalists the other day is not going to ingratiate her with that crowd. So they may decide that they can wheedle it out of Daddy, except they don't understand him, if they think they can."

"Oh, well that must be good to know?" said Pippa.

"Yes, Henry's a good sort," I said, "apart from wanting to use that bloody photo."

"Well it's out in the public domain now, so there isn't much point in complaining, is there?" suggested Stella and she had a point, but then she wasn't in the photo.

We continued drinking our teas and talking until we were interrupted by a shout of anguish. I jumped up and ran out into the lounge.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"Kiki, she's rolled in horse shit and gone belting out through the hole in the fence."

"Well you knew it was there," I chided Tom, I could have added silly man.

"I did, but not at the moment I let her out." He wobbled by the French window.

"You are drunk," I accused.

"Yes madam but you are beautiful, and tomorrow I'll be sober. No that's wrong..." he muttered to himself, mixing up a quote from Winston Churchill.* I knew what it was, but I let him work it out for himself.

I grabbed my coat and told the girls I was going to look for Kiki. Pippa decided to come with me. We found the lead in the kitchen and a torch and set off in the direction the silly spaniel had taken.

We must have looked rather stupid, calling out the dog's name and peering into drives and gardens. About half an hour later, I spotted something, "There she is, look down there," I pointed.

"Cor, you've got good eyesight?" said Pippa.

"Maybe, it could also be I am more practised at working in the dark."

"Oh doing the dormouse thingy?"

"Yep, come on or she'll run off." We trotted down the road and sure enough it was our smelly, greedy spaniel. I slipped the lead onto the collar and we walked her home. Once on the lead she was quite good, walking to another bath, she knew nothing about.

We walked back to the hole in the fence and found the two men there with shovels, I presumed trying to clear up the horse droppings, but they were so drunk, they were spreading it more about than shifting it. Stella was watching killing herself laughing.

"Wouldn't it have been quicker for you to do that?" I asked her.

"I offered but neither of the silly buggers would let me."

"Oh no!" shrieked Pippa, and I turned around just in time to see Tom sit in the biggest pile and laugh himself silly.

"And I thought I was strange?" I said to myself.

"Another one for the bath," called Stella. She and I helped him up, his trousers and back were plastered but otherwise he was okay, and was unhurt, the most important element. He was still laughing when I ran upstairs and grabbed his dressing gown, while Stella helped him disrobe in the kitchen, at least down to his undies.

Then she helped him upstairs and waited while he showered. Menwhile, I had ordered Simon indoors like a naughty schoolboy, and Pippa and I shifted the shit in about ten minutes. The dog was tied up and barking at us the whole time.

Finally, I changed and found the tin bath that Tom used for spaniel shampooing, seeing this, the dog tried to hang herself in escaping. But there was no escape, and once I found a pair of rubber gloves and the dog shampoo, she was in the warm water and scrubbed closer to godliness. I dried her with an old towel I found and shut her in the utility room, where she normally slept. It was quite warm in there and she'd dry soon enough, stupid dog.

When I got back in, I discovered Simon was zonked on the sofa in the lounge and according to Stella, Tom was similarly so in his bed.

"What are we going to do with him?" I asked.

"I've tried waking him but he's really gone," Stella spoke loudly over Simon's snoring. "Look I'll take Pippa home and then we can decide what we do, feel free to try and wake him."

"Is it worth it?" I asked.

"Doubt it, put the kettle on, won't be long."

I said my goodbyes to Pippa who promised to phone me the next day and let me know if the press were still about. Stella took her home.

I was seated at the table in the kitchen when she rang the doorbell. I got up from the unfinished crossword, and clicked the switch on the kettle again.

We drank the tea and between us finished the crossword, congratulating each other on team work. Then we tried to wake Simon. He wouldn't budge.

"I suppose I'd better go home and come back for him?" said Stella.

I looked at the time, "It's past twelve Stella, wouldn't it be easier to stay here and try to shift him in the morning? There is another bedroom."

"Yeah okay, I shall kill him slowly tomorrow," she said.

"Unless I wake first," I smiled and we high fived each other.

I showed her upstairs, and went to get a spare nightie for her. The spare room had a bed but it wasn't made up. "Look Cathy, your's is a double, I'll share with you."

"Erm okay," I gulped.

* Churchill is reputed to have been seen by one of his constituents when he was totally rat-arsed, a common occurrence, he was an alcoholic. She said to him disdainfully, "Mr Churchill you are drunk!"

He replied, "Yes madam, I am, but you are ugly and I shall be sober in the morning."