Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 2295

The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike, est. 2007)
Part 2295
by Angharad

Copyright© 2014 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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Simon sent me a text confirming they’d be staying in town overnight, I sent one back saying Sammi would need a clean outfit for the next day. He didn’t respond. I supposed it was the least important thing on his mind.

I was still cross about the happy slap incident although I suspected the two morons involved were more than punished for their stupidity. I felt a little adrift from the others, I was worried about what was happening at the bank, with Danni’s situation and still upset about the bike ride and its consequences.

Sometimes I consider getting a digicam for my helmet to deal with these sorts of incidents and other issues when riding. Apathy or being distracted tended to mean I hadn’t got one. I made a note on the pad on my desk. I’d just finished when Trish came in to see me. “Are you still cross with me, Mummy?”

I hugged her and asked if she thought I was. “I don’t think so, but you’re not like you usually are.”

“It’s been a long day.”

“Gran’s going to go home now, Mummy,” she informed me.

“Oh bugger,” I’d completely forgotten Monica was still there. I jumped up and dashed out to where she was still sitting in the kitchen talking with Julie and Phoebe.

“I’ve just been getting some advice about my hair,” she said beaming at me.

“I’m sorry, Monica, I almost forgot you were here. Forgive my poor hospitality.”

“No problem, Cathy. You’ve lots going on with Danni and now the bank business, not to mention your cycling contretemps.”

“I still shouldn’t have neglected you.”

“Nonsense, I haven’t felt neglected. I had a little chat with Danni—she’s turning into quite a pretty young thing—and I’ve had a chance to talk with the older grandchildren and got some advice about my hair to boot—not a bad result.”

“I suppose not,” I glanced past her and Julie winked at me. If she’s told her any porkies, I’ll swing for her. “Look, if you fancy staying over instead of dashing back, I’m sure we could organise a bed for you.”

“In the garage,” quipped Julie and poking her tongue at me when I scowled at her.

“I’ve slept in garages before, young woman,” said Monica, “especially when visiting properties in France and Spain.”

“You’re joking,” Julie said with a new respect.

“Luxury is something someone has to pay for somewhere along the line. If you are never the one to do so, you never appreciate its worth. My contribution to the Cameron fortune is buying and selling properties in mainly France, but also Spain, Italy and Belgium. Sometimes it involves a bit of hardship in the short term.”

“That sounds so romantic, Gran.” Livvie was giving Monica a dreamy eyed stare.

“The reality isn’t very romantic, my girl, it’s damned hard work and your profits reflect the amount of work you put in.”

“I’d love to do that for a living.” Livvie wasn’t giving up on the idea.

“Well, do your best in school, especially in European languages and law, and there might be a place waiting for you in my team when you finish school.”

“Oh yes please, Gran.”

“Get all your exams first.”

“Of course.”

Monica stayed for a further hour but drove home that evening. Part of me was relieved and a part of me felt disappointed. The news on the radio didn’t mention the cyber attack on the bank. Perhaps it was considered too sensitive to share with the proles?

Dinner was a quiet affair and I helped David clean up before he disappeared back to Ingrid and Hannah. At least he seemed back to full health and his creative best. Dessert was a chocolate and whipped cream football and although very sweet, it looked and tasted magnificent. He dedicated it to Danni who blushed but ate her share of it.

“What’s gonna happen when someone recognises Danni from her past life?” Julie asked, “She doesn’t exactly look a lot different.”

“I’m only training with them for a couple of weeks.”

“That won’t stop the interest. The local scandal sheet will be there and if they publish your name or a photo, you could be traced.”

“So what am I supposed to do—wear dark glasses?”

“Nah, a paper bag would be better.”

“Why you...” Danni flew at her older sister.

“GIRLS,” I shouted and woke up the baby who required feeding. “Now look what you’ve done.”

They apologised to me but not each other. The upshot was that they avoided each other for the rest of the evening. At least they weren’t fighting, which could have been the outcome a couple of years ago. Given Julie’s vinegar tongue, she would always be the more likely to win a bantering or insult trading war.

“Don’t keep picking on her,” I berated Julie.

“Why not, you always pick on me.”

“I don’t.” Do I?

“Yes you do. I’ve always been the whipping girl.”

“I don’t have time for this woe is me stuff.”

“See you get defensive as soon as anyone challenges it.”

“I’m not being defensive, nor am I showing favouritism.”

“Not much.”

“Julie if you want me to take you seriously as an adult you need to act like one.” My spleen was getting a good workout this afternoon.

“See you’re victimising me already.”

“Julie, that is pure and unmitigated hog wash and you know it.”

“But, Mummy, it’s true. Just because I came here dressed in silly boots and a micro skirt, you’ve had it in for me. I’m not some sort of tart, nor am I a stupid idiot.”

“I’ve never accused you of any of those things.”

“Running a business is a trying matter and not something anyone but a skilful mind could contemplate, my darling.”

“You say that now but as soon as my back is turned it’ll be a case of do well in school or you’ll end up like Julie. Just because I didn’t go to university doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

“I’ve never accused you of those things.”

“I’m sure you have.”

“I don’t remember it and if I have I make a total and unreserved apology. I don’t think of you as other than charming and very attractive and to be applauded for keeping the business together in the light of the way that bigger firms are going bust and you’re not only surviving but growing your business.”

“I thought I was losing money?”

“Not according to the accounts that Trish looked at.”

“What’s she doing looking at my books?”

“Finding the odd fault, why?”

“I think it’s a liberty.”

“You won’t when she points out a tax overpayment.”

“I’d want to see it first.”

“Is Trwishy gonna become an accountant?” asked Mima.

“I don’t think so but there are far worse jobs she could do...”

“Yeah, like hairdressing,” interrupted Julie making me blush furiously.

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