(aka Bike) Part 1947 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad
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“What d’you mean you might have killed someone?”
I explained what I thought might have happened, and she sat and cogitated for a few minutes. “I think it most unlikely that you killed him. It’s probably simply a coincidence–they do happen.”
“I know they happen, Stella, but it was right after I wished him dead.”
She picked up the phone, looked at the calls I’d received and dialled Erin. “Hello, Erin, it’s Stella Cameron, yes that’s right, Cathy’s sister in law. Look this is going to sound strange, but do you know when this Professor Freeman died? Yes I know it was today–about half past ten. Okay thanks–no you don’t want to know, yeah, bye.”
She replaced the phone in its charger base, “What time did you curse this guy?”
“I didn’t curse him, I just asked why he couldn’t just have a heart attack and die. Next thing Erin is phoning me to say he did just that.”
What time was it?”
“Before lunch, I think.”
“Well he died about ten thirty, which was when you were bragging to the girls about your plucked pubes. You didn’t kill him unless you were sending him naughty thoughts to bring about a heart attack.”
“Okay, so I didn’t kill him. Thank you for that.”
The phone rang and I answered it, “Cathy, what is going on?”
“What d’you mean, going on?”
“You know what I mean, why did Stella call me just now?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Cathy–what’s it all about?”
“Okay, I was telling her that I’d liked to have publicised my survey work but couldn’t because I didn’t wish to associate with Professor Freeman and his homophobic friends. I told her that if he wasn’t on the programme, I’d probably agree to do it.”
“So that’s a definite is it?”
“Definite what?” I asked feeling I’d just dug a hole for myself.
“For the radio show.”
“When is it?”
“Next Wednesday after Woman’s Hour. Hey, I wonder if they’d like you on Woman’s Hour?”
“No,” I said firmly.
“Be at the Natural History Unit for ten, I’ll see you there.”
“Erin, could I bring one or two of the girls with me, just to look around?”
“I don’t know, they’d need someone to watch them.”
“Well, you’re going to be there.”
“I’m not sure how long for.”
“In which case I’m not sure I can make it.”
“Cathy, you’re a monster.”
“Me?”
“Yes, I’ll speak to the producer–if you bring Trish, keep her away from anything electronic or she’ll be splitting the atom or some other such thing.”
“I think you need some sort of particle accelerator to split atoms.”
“Okay, but you knew what I meant.”
“I suppose so.”
“I’ll get back to you–but I can’t promise anything.”
“Neither can I then.” I was lying but she might not realise it.
“You be there or I’ll come and get you.”
I laughed my response and put the phone down.
“So you’re going to do it, then?” asked Stella.
“It’s a way of selling the survey.”
“What about the kids, which ones–don’t tell me, Trish and Livvie?”
“Yes, they’d get more out of it than Mima or Catherine.”
“Julie might have enjoyed it, so would Phoebe.”
“They’re busy.”
“So are the girls.”
“No, they’ve got a longer half term.”
“Danny would be in his element.”
“Danny will be in his element–he’s doing a soccer school.”
“I suppose I’ll have to look after Catherine and Mima?”
“That s so kind of you to offer, Stella. I’ll take the other two with me on Tuesday evening and we’ll have less of a fight to get to the studios on time.”
She gave me a glare that should have welded my eyeballs together, then she smirked–"You owe me one, Catherine bloody Watts.”
I beamed back a beatific smile. All I had to do now, was to decide what to wear–smart casual–obviously, I’m a biologist not a managing director, but I’m also an aristocrat’s wife–oh poo. I nipped upstairs and checked out my wardrobe.
I quickly glanced at ten thousand items and decided I had nothing suitable to wear. Then thought, it was ridiculous. I looked again, I picked out my CK jeans, with a DK top and my Burberry jacket and my M&S ankle boots. Yeah that would work with a nice scarf and handbag. I’ve got a Prada one somewhere, I think.
I sent Steve Harris an email saying I was looking forward to meeting him again. He replied saying much the same and asking if I was bringing the infamous Spike. If I did she'd steal the show and the poor old fox would be an also ran. I told him I would if he brought a fox or badger. I got a one word reply, ‘Touché.’
I felt better already and while it wasn’t raining, I took the children out for a walk, Cate in her push chair, which Meems decided she wanted to drive. There were a few moments of argument with Trish, but I stamped on it and we managed a nice walk to the harbour and back, by which time they were all a bit tired despite the ice cream I’d bought us at the harbour. I gave them a drink and a biscuit and made myself a cuppa, then settled down in a comfortable seat to drink it.
“You killed me, you bitch.” Freeman was looking very angry.
“Calm down, you’ll have a heart attack,” I said forgetting he’d just had a rather large and terminal one.
“Just so you could have a radio programme to yourself.”
“I won’t be on my own, Steve Harris will be there.”
“Spoiled my chances again, haven’t you?”
“What d’you mean?”
“Like you embarrassed me at that seminar in Cambridge.”
“You embarrassed yourself and got what you deserved.”
“At least I’m not some bloody fairy poncing about in women’s clothes.”
“Neither am I, I’m a married woman.”
“How can you be married, you’re a man.”
“Perhaps they’ll have hearing aids wherever you’re going, you must have misheard me–I’m a woman, you know, female of the species–wife and mother–that sort of thing. Perhaps they don’t have them in Swansea.”
“How dare you, Watts?”
“How dare I, what, Professor?”
“Come here wearing those clothes?”
“Because if I didn’t it would be seen as improper, and I suspect you wouldn’t want to see my body anyway.”
“Too right, you bloody fairy.”
Then he stepped forward and began tearing at my clothes, somehow my efforts to resist were futile, my limbs seemed immoveable. He pulled off the last stitch of clothing and stepped back to admire the view. “Bloody hell, for boy you’ve got a good shape.”
“I’m female, Freeman.”
“Sure you are.”
With that, Cate appeared toddling up to me and raising her arms to be picked up. I did so and she began to suckle at my breast.
“How are you doing that?” he demanded stepping closer.
“Mamma,” said Cate and sucked some more.
Freeman stepped back. “You’ve tricked me,” then he clutched his chest and fell down dead for the second time.
I held Cate firmly and began walking down the high street completely starkers except for my shoes. People were staring and laughing, but I didn’t care, I had my baby with me and I suspected they were all jealous.
“Mam–ma,” called her little voice.
“Yes dear,” I muttered.
“Ma-mma,” she shrieked and pulled on my jeans.
I sat up quickly and realised that I was sitting at home and had fallen asleep in the chair and had just poured a mug of cold tea over my leg–wunnerful.
Comments
Oh my! Poor Cathy
does have wild dreams at times. Wonder why?
May Your Light Forever Shine
The Basterds Never Seem to Give In.
It always seems like there is someone lurking in the wood work to spew into your life, din'it?
Gwendolyn
Could be worse
Could have been hot tea!
"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin
Cathy has a very active and vivid
imagination. Good that the tea was cold at least. Wonder what the girls will get into during Cathy's radio show.
At least ...
... it was cold tea. Cathy should be grateful. :)
Robi
Cathy and her Goddess
I may be wrong (and I was yesterday about Cathy wishing the professor dead. It was in yesterdays episode, not the one the day before. Oh well) but it seems to me that Cathy is thinking more about her Goddess recently, and the things that are happening related to the Goddess.
Don't let someone else talk you out of your dreams. How can we have dreams come true, if we have no dreams?
Katrina Gayle "Stormy" Storm
You're Right
The goddess does have a way of popping up in some form or fashion, as if to say "You can't dismiss me so easily." Cathy would like to forget about her, but it just ain't gonna happen.
"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin
Dreams; strange and otherwise.
Must be pretty frightening to be woken by a bad or strange dream ... and boy; does Cathy ever have some frightening dreams. Makes me glad I never seem to remember my dreams.
I've also gorra' wonder what the terrible duo will get up to amidst all the electronic stuff. Mayhem I'll warrant.
Looking forward to atoms being split and chaos theory being proved whilst Cathy entertains the fur-followers.
Still lovin' it Ang.
Bevs.
I wish that i
could remember my dreams as well as Cathy (the nice ones that is :))... All i seem to remember are little snippet, And in most cases the snippets are relevant to what i was doing that day. and in the main pleasant ... Cathy on the other hand seems to go to the other extreme not for her a dream about the disastrous chicken dinner party that she was hosting the previous day, Instead Cathy manages to drege up the ogre that is Freeman.... If heart attacks are caused in any way by hate, Then our late professor will not need to look far the reason for his demise....
Kirri