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

Having got the brood back together, we had snack and a drink, and then Jacquie and I repainted them with factor fifty sunblock. Then I did my arms, legs and face, even though I was theoretically out of the sun.

The young couple with the twins thanked me for spotting the paedo before they packed up and went home. At least in catching him red handed, so to speak, the police didn’t need more than names of witnesses–in this case the twins’ father, because he called the plod. I wasn’t brought into it at all, which made a nice change.

“Are we going up to Scotland, this year?” asked Trish again.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to speak to Daddy about it.”

She huffed and puffed and went back out into the sunshine and began digging like she was intent on catching a tiger or even an elephant. Having vented her anger she stalked off towards the sea. I decided enough was enough. I asked the other children to stay with Jacquie while I had words with Trish, though I had to walk pretty quickly to catch her.

“Okay, what’s biting your bum?” I asked trying to be humorous and thus catch her off guard.

“What?” she said and smirked.

“Well, you’re walking round here as if you had knickers full of wood ants.”

“They’re those big ones aren’t they?”

“They are quite big, but green woodpeckers enjoy eating them.”

“Ugh, how could they?”

“They open their beaks and flick them in with their tongues, how d’you think they eat them, mind you they prefer the larvae, they’re softer and don’t bite.”

“I mean how could anything eat ants?”

“Lots of things do, including ant lions, ant eaters, various birds and other ants.”

“Other ants–but that makes them cannonballs.”

“If you mean cannibals, yes, some of them are, but it happens a lot in nature.”

“Do people still do it, Mummy?”

“Sometimes, usually, but not always primitive societies. We know these days that it can cause CJD, a brain disease similar to mad cow disease.”

“People turn into mad cows?”

“No, they get a disease which eats big holes in their brains and they die.”

“The disease eats their brains?”

Oh boy, why do they always pick up on the throwaway remark? “No, it makes their brains develop holes because some protein or other doesn’t function properly.”

“So it doesn’t actually eat their brains?”

“Not literally, no, it causes holes to form as if the brain had been eaten by something.”

“Do ants get the same disease?”

“No.”

“Even if they eat their neighbours?”

“No, CJD is definitely a human disease, and the BSE is definitely a cattle disease.” What I didn’t tell her was that it can be passed on to humans or other animals, if they eat contaminated meat. In the same way it passed from sheep infected with scrapie into cows because they fed cows ground up sheep bones for the minerals in them. Sadly the disease then jumped the species barrier and the farming industry had yet another crisis. I was only a kid then but I remember the footage that got shown on news bulletins of a cow being unable to keep its balance. I found the whole thing pitiful, and I still rarely eat burgers as a consequence.

She walked along the water’s edge holding my hand. “Why are you so keen to go up to Scotland?”

“I wanna see the castle again.”

“You mean you want to show off to Cindy?”

“No–oh, alright, but everyone does it.”

“Trish, I’ve asked you not to draw attention to the differences between us and Cindy.”

“I’m not,” she protested.

“But you are. How many people d’you know who have a castle?”

“Um–only Jennifer Hughes, her younger brother was given one and set of knights in armour.”

“A toy castle?”

“Yes.”

“So you don’t know anyone else who has one?”

“Not really.”

“So does that say anything about your family–about us?”

“Um–not really.”

“Trish, if we have a castle and no one else you know has one then it makes us special, doesn’t it?”

“It means we’re richer than the others, doesn’t it?”

“That’s one factor, yes.”

“What else does being wealthier prove?”

“Um–we can buy more things.”

“Yes, that’s one thing, certainly, what else?”

“I don’t understand the question?”

“There are quite a few wealthy families at your school, how many own a castle?”

“Um–none, I guess.”

“Why d’you think that is?”

“Um–dunno, are we richer?”

“Trish, your daddy is from one of the wealthiest families in Europe, let alone this country.”

“Gosh, can I have some new shoes then?”

“What d’you want new shoes for?”

“Because you told me a girl can never have enough.”

Hoist by my own petard again.

I squeezed her hand, “Now promise me that you won’t keep showing off about a castle. Cindy has enough to cope with just seeing how much better we live than she does. If you carry on, you’ll frighten her off because she’ll think we’re all so shallow, just interested in flaunting our wealth.”

“But I’m not, Mummy. I came from a children’s home.”

“I know where you came from, under a gooseberry bush.”

“No I didn’t–you what?” she swiped at my bum but I’d started running along the water’s edge. She set off in pursuit calling after me. I looked back and nearly collided with a little one, in side-stepping her, I tangled up my feet and fell quite heavily on the wet sand. It winded me and seconds later Trish caught up with me.

“Are you okay, Mummy?”

I clearly wasn’t, I’d tweaked my ankle, which in my sandals was starting to swell.

“You alright, darlin’?” called some hairy bloke covered in tattoos.

I was trying to keep back the tears, “No, I’ve hurt my ankle.”

“Gi’s your ’and,” he said holding out his own. My own appendage was soon swallowed in his shovel like paw and despite his bulging muscles he yanked me upright quite gently.

I couldn’t weight bear, the pain was excruciating and I couldn’t hop back to the family, let alone to the car. I tried to limp, but it was just too painful, and a moment later he scooped me up in his arms and started carrying me, led by Trish.

He told Trish to stay with the others while he carried me up to the first aid post, where after pronouncing it sprained, they slapped an ice pack on it to try and stop the swelling and bruising which was already happening. It was my left ankle too, the foot I put down first when stopping on the bike, bugger.

My rescuer stayed with me. After half an hour of trying to freeze my foot off, they wrapped it in a bandage so I could get my sandal back on, but it was too painful to walk on. Once more he scooped me up and carted me back to the family.

“Sorry, I don’t even know who you are?”

“Me, I’m a nobody.”

“No, you’re a knight, albeit without the shining armour, and this damsel in distress is very grateful. Might I proffer some sort of reward for services rendered?”

“Nah, that’s okay, just helping a pretty girl out of a tight spot.”

“Please, you’ve gone well out of your way to do that.”

“Help–yeah, I need a job. Finished with the navy six months ago in the cuts they made, still looking for work.”

“What did you do in the navy?”

“Electrical engineering.”

“Let me call a friend,” I said as he returned me to my handbag and family. I sat down very gingerly but pulled out my Blackberry and dialled up Maureen. I asked if she could find some work for a recently redundant ex-naval electrical engineer. It seemed she could, but she’d need to meet him first. When? Tomorrow at ten and she suggested a venue which he knew. I handed him the phone and she obviously asked him his name, Ed Fuller was what he said. At least I knew who he was now.

“How ya gonna get ’ome?” he asked.

“If I can get back to the car, I’ll get one of the family to come and collect it and me.”

“C’mon,” he offered, “I’ll drive you.”

“What about my car?” I queried.

“Okay, I’ll take you in your car.”

“And Jacquie could run you back to collect yours,” I suggested.

“Don’t ’ave one no more, ’ad to sell it, the kids needed shoes.”

“How many have you got?”

“Two, two boys ten and twelve.”

“If they grow up as good as their dad, they’ll be fine young men.” Somehow we managed to get everything carried and loaded in the two cars. His eyes widened when he saw my Jaguar.

“You got a good job or a rich ’usband,” he commented as we approached it.

“Or both,” I smiled.

Fortunately Trish and Cindy went to ride with Jacquie and we followed her back to the house. “Geez,” was all he said as we entered the drive. Without asking he carried me to the house and handed me back the keys. “Lovely car,” was all he said.

“Have you got something to wear to your interview tomorrow?” I asked him.

“It’s for a manual job, so me jeans ’ll do.”

I sent Trish up to my bedroom and asked her to bring a bag of clothes down from Simon’s wardrobe as Ed was about the same size as Si. He protested but I made him have a shower and try on some of the clothes. They fitted really well and he washed up quite tidily. He protested, but I insisted he took them–they were going to a charity shop anyway. Then I handed him an envelope with two hundred pounds in it, “Get something for the boys and your wife.”

He refused it saying I’d given him enough already. I countered with, “You gave up your afternoon to help me when you might have been doing something much more useful for yourself. Please, accept this and good luck tomorrow with Maureen.”

“Thanks, Mrs Watts.” I’d given my maiden name at the first aid place.

I sent him off with Jacquie to take him home along with the bag of used clothes and a bottle of wine. Jacquie came back with the envelope; he’d made her bring it back to me. She did however note his address and when Simon came home I asked him to check if Ed Fuller was one of his customers. He grumbled but sent an email and ten minutes later he got a reply.

I explained what had happened and why I was seated when he came in, I also asked him to transfer two hundred into the man’s account. He went off and smiled at me. “Good looking, was he?”

“No, he wasn’t, but he was genuine and honest. I gave him some of your old clothes and tried to give him the money. He wouldn’t take it.”

“He will now, he’ll think it’s a tax refund.”

“Simon, you’re a genius.”

“Taken you long enough to notice, oh and to make it look realistic, I added a bit more.”

“Like how much?”

“That’s confidential, babes, an’ you know me, the epitome of discretion.”