The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2116 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I was right, the journey back to the castle was awful, the mist seemed to get even thicker but thankfully, the sponsors of David Millar’s cycling team, came through and after over two hours of difficult walking, we at last saw the shadow of the stony edifice emerge from the gloom. The girls ran on ahead, except Danni and Cindy, both of whom were in quiet moods. Given they’d probably been frightened by being stuck in the cave and the nature of our makeshift rescue, they had a few things to reflect upon.

“Can I phone my mum when we get inside?” asked Cindy.

“Course you can,” replied Simon grimacing at his torn and bloodied hands. I put my arm through his and whispered, ‘my hero,’ which seemed to make him smile. Certainly without his strength, we’d never have got them out by ourselves, and a rescue team could have taken some time to assemble. They could have been stuck there for hours. If Cindy tells her mum, she’ll be driving up next day to collect her.

Danni had a few scratches on her arms and legs from the edge of the rocks but they seemed to improve with a shower and a change of clothing. However, what really bucked us all up was a bowl of Mrs Cuddy’s chicken broth which warmed us and gave us back some pep. She’d made Simon soak his hands in Bicarbonate of soda and that seemed to take some of the sting out of them–at least enough for him to be able to hold a spoon.

We were all tired and after a DVD we all pretty well went to bed. I managed to ask Cindy what her mum had said about the rescue. “Oh I didn’t tell her about that, I just said we’d been out walking on the moors and a mist came down and you’d had to lead us home with your sat nav.”

“So it wasn’t too scary?”

“Oh yeah, I was like um–nearly pooing my pants–but Danni said, ‘Just wait my mum will get us out of this.’ So I stayed with her and she was right. She told me people have adventures when you’re about, so I’m like, really glad I came.”

“Oh, really?”

“Oh yeah, it woulda been dead borin’ at home, but this is great fun.” Seems like we have another adrenalin addict–oh boy.

Danni was less enthused. “I spoilt my leggings, they’ve got big holes in them.”

“We’ll get you some more, darling.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I promise.”

“No, maybe I’d like to go back to my jeans.”

“Okay, we’ll get you some jeans in Perth, I’m sure one of the chains will have some, New Look or...”

“Maybe some boy ones?”

“Boy cut jeans, we’ll have to see what they’ve got–perhaps a pretty belt to go with them.”

“No, boy jeans–I think I might like to go back to being a boy.”

“What about the dance?”

“What about it?”

“Well you’re little friend from the ball will be coming and expecting to see you in a dress again. I’ve got your breast forms.”

“What if I don’t want to go to the dance in a dress?”

“A skirt and top will be okay if we can find a nice one.”

“Muuum, maybe I’d like to be a boy again.”

“Yes alright, after we go home.”

“No, now.”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t have any boy clothes here.”

“Well buy some then.”

“No, you have a house full of them in Portsmouth, you’ll just have to stay in girl mode until we get home.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You were asked if you wanted to come as a girl or a boy, you chose a girl, I packed for a girl.”

“You coulda packed some boy stuff as well.”

“You gave me no indication that you were likely to want to wear boy clothes again. In fact I was beginning to wonder if you were going to ask me to enrol you at St Claires.”

“But I’m a boy.”

“Danni, you are wearing a skirt and top with ribbons in your hair, earrings, makeup and nail varnish–I don’t see a boy.”

“Grrr,” she growled. “All right, but can we discuss it tomorrow?”

“Of course we can, but remember we have the dance to organise tomorrow amongst other things.”

“Bloody dance, felt a right prat last time.”

“From what the others said you acquitted yourself quite well.”

“Yeah, except for the kid with the hands everywhere.”

“I’d heard you’d kissed him.”

He blushed, “I’m goin’ to bed.”

“Don’t I get a kiss?”

He reluctantly pecked me on the cheek and went off to his room.

“What was all that about?” asked Simon, gingerly rubbing some sort of ointment onto his hands.

“Oh nothing, I think Danni might be tiring of her enthusiasm for things girly.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like me to do that for you?”

“Help yourself.”

I did. I took the ointment, which was quite greasy and started to rub a little very gently into his skin. “Round and round the garden, like a teddy bear...”

“Very funny,” he said meaning the exact opposite.

“Shut up and keep still,” I replied feeling the energy moving down my arms and into his hands.

“Jeez that’s hot, it’s burning, babes.”

“Hush,” I scolded and he went quiet. A couple of minutes later he seemed to drop off to sleep. I looked at his hands and they’d healed completely. “Si.” He didn’t move.

“Simon,” I shook him quite vigorously. He didn’t open his eyes or speak. My heart was now in my throat–not a good place to have it. I shook him and slapped his face gently–still no response.

“Just wait here a moment, darling, I’m going to get some cold water–that might take you out of your trance.

He pretended to come round, “Where am I?” he said faking it.

“In Russia.”

“Russia? What are we doing there?”

“Awaiting interrogation by the KGB.”

“You’re joking.”

“Yes, I am as a matter of fact.”

“Bitch,” he said quietly.

“Fake,” I said back.

“Had you going for a minute, didn’t it?”

“Not for one second.”

“So why did you get so frantic trying to rouse me?”

“Because I care about you.”

“Really?”

“No,” I slapped my head. “Why do I bother, I’m married to a cretin.”

“I knew you’d find out one day.”

“Simon, I’ve known for a very long time.”

“How was that?”

“Are we playing cricket or discussing something?”

“Okay, I’ll play safe. How did you know some time ago?”

“You asked me to go out with you even after I tipped a glass of wine on your best shirt. Only a cretin would ask me to go out with them.”

“There you go again putting yourself down again.”

There was a knock at the bedroom door and I went to answer it. “Oh, Mr Dunstan.”

“Sorry to disturb you, milady, but could you and the laird come downstairs, the police are here.”

My stomach flipped and a cold sensation filled it.