The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2218 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I saw Trish laying the table in the dining room. “Who told you to do that, sweetheart?”

“Daddy.”

“Is he home?”

“Nah, he told me last night.”

“Last night? How many places did he tell you to lay?”

“You know, for everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Yeah, you know, Mummy, you, me, Danni, Livvie...”

“Why can’t we eat in the kitchen like we usually do?”

“It’s your birthday, Mummy. Daddy wanted to celebrate it.”

“Okay, I’ll believe you, thousands wouldn’t.”

“Hah, more fool them then.” She went back to counting on her fingers and laying more places.

What was Simon up to? Twenty minutes later he arrived with Sammi, kissed me and dashed upstairs to shower. Sammi did the same. Damn, she evaded my questions.

Dressed in jeans and a top, I thought I’d better change into something tidier, so I slipped upstairs and changed into a skirt and top with some shoes with a moderate heel. I put on some light makeup and was combing my hair when Simon emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of charcoal trousers and a blue striped shirt.

“That looks better,” he said and taking me in his arms he kissed me deeply and wished me happy birthday.

“Ugh, your hair is still wet,” I said as I wiped some drips off my face.

“So? It’s clean water.”

“Glad to hear it.” I sprayed myself with ‘Coco’ and he sniffed and smiled at me.

“You smell good enough to eat,” he said moving towards me.

“Ah-ah, too much fat would put your cholesterol readings off the scale.”

“Gotta die of something.”

“I prefer the idea of old age.”

“Ma’am, allow me to escort you to the banquet,” he said pretending he was Rhett Butler.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” I said and dropped a small curtsey. Scarlett O’Hara, I wasn’t.

We linked arms and processed down the stairs, “You don’t really want to die of old age, do you? All that dribbling and incontinence...yuck.”

“I don’t know, I doubt I shall get the chance anyway–so far half the population of Russia has tried to pop me off, sooner or later the other half might try and my luck might not hold a second time.”

“God, I hope that’s over. It costs enough money.”

“You’re paying them off?”

“No, but to keep the gangsters in government on side we had to agree to take over a Russian bank which was up the spout.”

“So it’s not the mafia?”

“No, well not the official one, this lot are as inept at crookery as they are at democracy.”

“They seem to be able to screw loads of money out of Western Europe for oil and gas.”

“Oh yeah, one or two are doing quite well, but if they really knew what they were doing, they’d have screwed an awful lot more.”

The girls came rushing past us all dressed up in skirts or dresses.

“Is there something you’re not telling me, husband?”

“Only one thing? Nah–there’s loads of them.”

“That would not surprise me.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Well, I have to be careful, my husband is a banker. If ever he finds out about you, he’ll grab my allowances.”

He suddenly stopped at the foot of the stairs. “The cad, fancy grabbing a lady by her allowances. I hope he washes his hands afterwards.”

“Some help you are.”

“Always look after number one.”

“Thanks a bunch.”

“Look, lady, if I give you a birthday present will you let me make mad passionate love to you all night?”

“What about my husband?”

“He’ll have to wait until I get my breath back.”

I had to think about what he said. “You fool,” I slapped him gently on the arm and we both walked into the dining room laughing, still arm in arm.

“Happy Birthday,” cried out a dozen voices and I saw Henry and Monica were there as well as the rest of our household.

The meal was a mixed grill, with small steaks, liver, sausages, eggs, bacon mushrooms, tomatoes and some chips. I struggled to eat very much, I was overcome with the emotion of the moment–a surprise dinner party in my own house–for me.

David had made profiteroles, which I absolutely adore and when we paused for coffees, he emerged with a large birthday cake complete with thirty candles which I had to try and blow out in one breath while making a wish and trying not to collapse or spit on the cake or anyone else. It isn’t easy and my eyes were seeing spots and I had a ringing in the ears.

Of course we had to have another chorus of Happy Birthday followed by She’s a Jolly Good Fellow. Finally, Simon banged on the table and when he had silence he stood up while I blushed.

“I’ve had the good fortune to know Cathy since Stella tried to capture her for me–well she’d heard about my record of dating, and thought if she rendered the pretty girl riding the bike, unconscious, she might agree to a date with me before she came to her senses. Which is exactly what happened.

“What I didn’t know was how she’d fling herself at me–pouring wine all over me into the bargain. Literally, she jumped on me that first night covering my best shirt in red wine. I had to date her to get her to wash it for me.

“She was even more shy than I was. I remember a shy naíve young woman who was even more socially inept than I was–and in six short years she’s transmogrified into the butterfly you see before you, and not only that but she could sit with anyone a pauper or a king and they’d all be impressed with her beauty, her wit and her kindness.

“When she asked about fostering children, I had no idea of what was involved but we persevered, driven on by Cathy’s enthusiasm and energy and when we decided the youngsters we’d fostered were too precious for us to let go, she went all out to adopt them, marrying me on the way.

“Lady, I love you and salute you for your compassion, stubbornness and courage–oh and your taste in children and husbands. Please raise your glasses and join me in wishing the most wonderful woman in my world, a very happy birthday.”

I sat there blushing with tears dribbling down my cheeks. I didn’t deserve any of them–this was the most marvellous collection of people in the whole world and they chose to give me the one thing I thought I would never have–a family. I loved them all, each and every one of them.

Every one of them stood up and said something, from the little ones, just, “We love you, Mummy,” to Tom and then Henry making short speeches about how much I meant to them. Stella said she owed me her life several times over and I was the best sister she could have hoped for, even if I kept taking her clothes.

At the very end, Jacquie passed me little Lizzie and she held out her arms and cried, “Ma ma,” before I took her and fed her my breast.

“See, even little Lizzie says good things about her,” said Simon and they all laughed disturbing the baby for a moment before she latched onto the breast again biting me in the process.

“Could I have a cup of tea, please,” I asked, nothing else would do.