The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 2083 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Are they all asleep?” asked Simon as I came back downstairs.

“No, Cindy will probably read for a bit longer.

“She seems a nice kid.”

“She’s a delightful child, which shows that manners, not money maketh man, or in her case, woman.”

“I believe she’s receiving help from the fund we set up for poorer pupils at the school?”

“Yes, she had a uniform grant recently, or her mum did on her behalf.”

“Good, the system works then.”

“It seems to in her case.”

“Looks like the school are the best placed to offer up names of the families most in need for fees or uniform grants to the trust and they send on the money or notice of fees being paid to the families.”

“I think the bank is so generous to underwrite this charity.”

“Not really, we write off the amount against taxes, it just means the government don’t get a chance to filch it and we get a say in how it’s spent, which is doubly nice.”

“Cuppa?” I asked filling the kettle.

“Yeah, why not?”

We chatted and drank tea for another hour before my yawning made me think about going to bed. Simon had some stuff he needed to read before a meeting the next day, so I went on up before him and it was quite literally lights out when I switched the lights out. I didn’t hear or feel him come to bed nor get up the next morning.

I was awoken by the radio alarm and the signal was far from clear presumably because the warm spell we were enjoying was caused by high pressure and that always upsets the FM radio signals with interference from French stations. Such is the price of living on the south coast of an island, and if the price to pay for this fine weather is not being able to hear Messrs Humphrys, Naughtie and co, then I’ll cope.

I showered and got Danny and the older girls up. Phoebe had finished college for the summer but was working at the salon for some pocket money. While she and Julie made breakfast, I provided a liquid form for Lizzie who sat and tried to suck my nipples off–they should have called her Dyson.

“I’ll call the clinic later and see how Neal is doing,” I told Phoebe, who nodded, but looked a little guilty. I reminded her that it was my responsibility to care for the baby, not hers, and that she should try to make the most of her life, while she could. They went off to work and Tom, who’d been out walking the dog, offered to take Danny to school after he’d topped up his caffeine levels.

As they left the girls began to arrive at the table. Cindy was first down, followed by Trish and Livvie, with Mima and Cate following on behind. I gave each one of them a hug and asked them what they wanted for breakfast and as usual Trish and Livvie tried to outdo each other in the outrageous stakes.

“Have we any caviar, Mummy?” asked Livvie.

“We have some lumpfish in the fridge.”

“Lumpfish? I want caviar.”

“Yes, lumpfish caviar.”

“Oh, I thought you meant fish.”

“So, d’you want caviar for breakfast?”

“Ugh, no thank you, I’ll have cornflakes, please, Mummy.”

“Trish?”

“Any quail’s eggs, Mummy?”

If Stella hadn’t snorted tea all over the table, we might have been able to ignore Trish’s outlandish request; instead I had to calm everyone down and get them to wash and dress themselves before deciding what we’d do.

The weather was warm, so a trip to the beach was a possibility, and it was decided we’d go to Hayling Island where the girls could play on the beach or have little swims. Jacquie agreed to come with me, driving behind in the Mondeo with the extra equipment we needed, like balls and buckets and spades. We had to kit Cindy out with a cozzie and opted for a one piece that Billie had used once, but the frill helped to disguise any bulges in places there shouldn’t be any and also to emphasise hips to compensate for her boy’s ones. She looked okay in it and like the others she wore them under her shorts and tee shirt.

I wore shorts and tee shirt as well, but we had an umbrella and a travel rug plus a few inflatable cushions to make sitting easier. The trip to the beach from the car park was one in which everyone had to carry something. Obviously, Jacquie and I carried the heavy stuff, but Cindy managed the umbrella, while Jacquie carried the cool box with all the food in it and I carried one with all the drinks in it. The smaller girls carried buckets and spades and Frisbees and we finally marched onto the beach and set up our camp. Together we agreed two points on the horizon which the girls would stay between–it makes them easier to see, in theory. I also told them they had to tell me if they were going to swim in the sea or even paddle, because that was further away.

Despite state schools still supposedly still working, there seemed to be an awful lot of school age children on the beach who I suspect should still have been in school. But then it wasn’t my problem, mine was the group who’d come with me and I hoped would return home again in one piece.

Nearby our camp was a small family group of mum, dad and two toddlers who could well have twins. The girls were very young, and running round in the buff, which I found charming, though it offended Trish’s eye–she seems to be developing a very self conscious awareness of her body and thus other people’s.

As the toddlers toddled up and down the sands, I noticed some bloke who seemed to be standing close but not facing the family, then it dawned on me he was filming the two naked little ones. I felt shocked then angry. I beckoned the mother over and she reluctantly strolled across to me.

“See the man carrying the blue holdall?”

“Yeah, what about him?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s filming your two girls.”

“How d’you know?” she looked shocked.

I explained how the camera was positioned and she began to agree with me. She went off to speak with her husband who called the police. Sure enough, they found a camera and evidence of pictures of children taken without the consent of the parents. Most of the pictures featured naked babies and toddlers and he was carted off in a police car protesting his innocence.

“Thanks for that,” offered the girl’s mum, “how did you spot him?”

“I’ve been watching the people come and go and there was something decidedly unusual about his behaviour, then I spotted a small lump in his back pocket and realised what it was. The rest is history as they say.”

I glanced down the beach and saw that Livvie had disappeared. My heart sank, all this time she’s been in my care nothing has happened and then we come to the beach and someone nabs her. Then she appeared from behind someone’s windbreak and they were all present and correct–about as good a result as you might get on a busy beach. Which my heart eventually accepted as a positive result once it slowed down enough to stop me gulping in air.