The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1989 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I spoke with David about the little incident earlier in the day and asked him to keep it between us and not involve Simon, he nodded and shrugged, “Nothin’ to do with me, missus.”

I thanked him and left him to continue his culinary magic–the meal was delicious, as it should be and everyone enjoyed it. Good Friday came and Stephanie came over to our house to speak with Danny, who was honest with her about hitting me. I think she was disappointed in him from the way she spoke to me afterwards, but impressed that he didn’t shy away from telling the truth in reporting negative incidents as well as positive ones.

For some reason she seemed impressed with the way I’d handled it which I suppose felt good. Usually she tells me how I could have done something better–but then she isn’t there at the moment when split second thinking is necessary, and it’s so easy to do the wrong thing. But she agreed that it was hopefully a one off thing and it needn’t concern Simon at this stage.

Stephanie considered that Danny would be okay for a few days without therapy and that she’d see him again after Easter. When I asked about the visit of the Grimshaws she wasn’t exactly for the idea but she didn’t tell me to cancel it, suggesting that I let Danny deal with things as he could or wanted, which was what I had already discussed with him.

The weather remained cold but dry, and we all went for a walk on the Saturday with Gramps to lay some flowers on the family grave. Trish told me she saw Billie again, who was distraught at what had happened to Danny and his friend, but she seemed to think they’d get over it. I could have told her that, what I couldn’t say was how long it would take, especially for poor Peter.

The Sunday morning, the clocks went forward and I hadn’t slept that well, I suppose I was worrying about lunch–not from David’s point of view–but how the two boys would cope. At least Danny would get to see his girlfriend if such a title was apposite; and I prayed it would boost his spirits a little.

At breakfast, the girls seemed to pick up on the tension and were squabbling at the table. Simon, bless him, slammed his hand down hard enough to make me jump. “I don’t know what you’re bickering about, but it had better stop this minute or there’ll be no Easter egg for you two.”

Trish and Livvie sat silently looking very contrite, and everyone else looked shocked. It’s unusual for Si to say very much to the children other than pleasant things. He can be tough with them on occasion but usually leaves that to me–the female of the species...and all that. Today, I suspect sensing my vulnerability–at least I hope that was why he did it–he stepped up to the mark.

He’d made a bit more of a fuss of Danny as well–male bonding stuff–which i thought was lovely, and Tom had tried to spend a little time with him every day as well. Henry had offered to let him go up to London if he wanted, and even said he’d send a car to collect him, but Danny politely declined–even to seeing Chelsea and Manchester United playing in the cup.

When I mentioned my surprise at turning down a match with hundred pound tickets, he began to cry and said he couldn’t cope with lots of people around him. I asked if that included the Sunday lunch, but he said that was alright, it was hundreds or thousands of people. He ran off to his room before I could ask any more, and I considered he wanted to be alone for that moment.

The humanitarian in me regretted the deaths of the two men in France, the mother in me, seeing the prolonged distress of my son, wanted them to pay for as long as the two boys would. It was breaking my heart, it really was.

Things calmed down for the rest of the morning and checking that everything was in order–I like my place to be tidy before we have visitors, particularly other women–I went up to change. I like to be as tidy as my house–smart casual–okay–chic smart casual.

I had come back down to supervise everything when the Grimshaw’s Astra came up the drive. I could almost hear his mother saying to Peter, “You didn’t tell me they lived in a mansion.” It isn’t of course, it’s just a very large–nowadays even larger–Georgian farmhouse; but it is impressive, especially the first time you see it. I watched the four of them walk very self consciously from where they’d parked next to Si’s Jaguar, past my white XF Jag and Tom’s Freelander. I could almost sense them feeling out of place here, though Peter had been quite happy on his previous visit and I hoped he’d be so again.

The doorbell rang and Trish dashed to answer it before anyone else could. “Hello, Peter, is this your mum an’ dad an’ sister?”

I entered the arena at this point and glared at her, “Dr Watts, good to see you again,” offered Peter’s mum.

“It’s just Cathy, come on in and meet the rest of my crowd.”

“It’s Moira and Tim, Peter you know, and this is Carly.” A youngster wearing a fleece jacket with a hood and fur round its edge and cuffs, leggings and Ugg boots emerged from behind her mum.

“Hello, Carly,” we shook hands and she blushed like a tomato, so did Danny, did Trish notice, or worse, Livvie? “This is my husband, Simon, my Daddy, Tom, Julie, Jacquie, Phoebe, and my little one, Catherine, her bodyguard is Mima. Behind her are my sister in law, Stella and her two, Puddin’ and Fiona. In the background is David our cook and his fiancée, Ingrid. Danny, you know.”

“This place is so big,” said Tim Grimshaw taking in the entrance hall, which is nice with wainscoting and decorated cornices on high ceilings.”

“That’s nothing,” huffed Trish, “we’ve got a castle up in Scotland.”

“Let me show you,” said Danny to Carly, and hauled her off to show her the aerial photo we had in the hallway–the others followed except Peter who’d seen it before.

“How ya doin’?” I said quietly to him.

“Okay, I guess–you come to me every night, don’t you? In my dreams–I see you every night.”

“I send you healing every night, how you experience the energy is individual to you.”

“I see you and I know I’m safe–please don’t stop coming, will you?”

“Not as long as you need me, I won’t.”

“Thank you, Dr Watts.”

“You’re very welcome, Peter–come along, we’ll talk a bit later–ask me about my bicycles and I’ll take you out to the workshop to see them.”

“Oh, okay–I used to like bikes.”

“It won’t be long before you’ll be able to ride one again.”

“Yeah, I hope so.”

“I know so.”

“Thank you for being my friend.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I think I’m going to be a bit short of them when everything gets out.”

“Don’t write off people too quickly–and you have all of us here behind you, so don’t hesitate to call us if you need us.”

He nodded and we strolled up to the rest of them with Trish holding forth about the castle and the battle we fought there against the Russian bandits. When she went on about my part in it, I felt myself growing hotter and was relieved when David came out and told us to come for lunch. Saved by the bell–well, the cook.