It's all in the timing and Cathy's watch is slow!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad & Bonzi Cat.
part 62.

Simon, Stella and John arrived back at the sports centre. Simon wanted to run me home but I felt I needed some time to myself. The idea of the car ride was so tempting as my legs began to ache and stiffen from their recent effort, it was like doing two training runs at the same time. I don't think I'd ever ridden so fast for so far, but it was quite enjoyable to think I'd beaten a couple of riders who would normally be regarded as better than I was.

I drank my isotonic drink and agreeing that Simon could collect me in an hour, trundled home to warm down. I noticed the Volvo was around as I got home, so I reckoned he was keeping an eye out for either of the two morons who jumped me last night. Fortunately, they didn't show up. The shower was bliss but knowing how limited the time was, I aborted it and dried myself and then my hair.

As the weather was turning cooler, I opted for the denim skirt with my boots, a white long-sleeved top and my denim jacket. If I'd put on the cowboy hat, I could have gone to another barn dance. Some minimal makeup and a squirt of smellies and I was ready, I checked my watch and I had exactly one minute to wait before Simon knocked on the door.

"Hi, Supergirl," he said smiling at me.

"Erm," was my intelligent response, followed by more excellent dialogue, "erm, why did you call me that?" I blushed for good measure as I said it.

"Someone who could jump eight places between us seeing them and finishing the race must have superhuman powers."

"Yeah, I decided to fly over the top of them until I got stuck in a telephone wire and by the time I freed myself, four of them had already finished."

"Gosh Supergirl, I'd have thought you'd have melted the cable with your infrared vision."

"Nah, my sunglasses stopped it working."

"You certainly flew onto that chap's back last night."

"You didn't do so bad yourself, Batman."

"Holy chronometers, Supergirl, we need to get to the batmobile quickly or we'll be too late to eat the bat-feast."

"Bat-feast," I repeated, "that means one of two things, either it's a plate of luscious insects or a meal made of bats. Either way, yuck!"

"Go on, don't knock until you've tried it," Simon smirked, then looped his arm through mine and half carried me down the stairs, I barely had time to grab my bag and keys before we were out of the building and in the Volvo.

Waiting for us at the pub was Stella, John was apparently on call and had been bleeped to go to the hospital. She looked a bit fed up so I tried to cheer her up with a few jokes. I was never too good at telling jokes, and today I was worse than ever. However, both she and Simon were laughing uproariously, not because the jokes were funny but my technique was so bad they were laughing at that.

"You know, only a real comedienne can make weak jokes so funny like Tommy Cooper was an expert magician, he needed to be to make his tricks work with all the fooling around and Les Dawson was quite a good pianist to be able to play off-key like he did. So I suggest Cathy is probably a superb joke teller and raconteur."

"Me?" I squeaked my voice shrivelled by embarrassment. I tried to explain that this wasn't rehearsed, it was real. I really was that bad, forgetting punchlines and half the characters, was it a Scotsman, an Irishman and an Englishman, or was he Welsh or French? I couldn't remember and sadly it did make a difference to the story. So then I'd have to make corrections and Simon would practically be rolling on the floor. I still didn't know what was so funny.

"Did you hear about the English kamikaze pilot?" I asked then remembered that was wrong. "Hang on, I think it might have an Irish one. Yes, that's it, did you hear about the Irish kamikaze pilot?" With tears in their eyes, they shook their heads for no. "He flew a hundred missionaries, no, I mean trips, you know missions." At this point Simon collapsed on the floor and I wondered if I might have to do CPR. I had to admit the idea was more attractive than a week ago. He recovered and roared with laughter again.

By now of course I had half the pub listening to me, with some hushing newcomers who arrived talking. I hadn't realised how many were listening and thought I'd better shut up. So I did.

"Come on tell us another," someone called from behind me. "Baz, have you thought of hiring her as a regular comedy spot?" Called another. I began to wonder what I had started. It certainly wasn't what I had intended.

"Come on, one more," the voice sounded insistent and almost familiar. I thought about turning around to see, but then that would be even more daunting.

"There was a girl who went back to the shop to complain about her scarf. I think she may have been fair-haired, no she was blonde. Yeah, she was blonde right, and the woman in the shop asked what was wrong with it, so she said it didn't fit or something." I paused unable to think what the punchline was. "Oh yeah, she said it was too tight, that's right she took it back because it didn't, no it was too tight."

"Did they give you your money back?" called some wag from the back and Simon nearly choked on his beer.

Despite my first and last attempt as a standup comedian, I enjoyed my lunch. The bike race had primed my appetite and I was quite happily able to see off a roast lamb dinner with all the trimmings. All I needed then was somewhere warm and dark to curl up and go to sleep.

"I'm off to do some ironing," declared Stella. Simon looked surprised and I must admit, I assumed she threw things out when they got to that stage or gave them to me. She hugged us both and departed.

"I can't remember the last time Stella ironed anything, I think it was the budgie and she was about five years old."

"Not like the bloke who broke his window, no he broke his arm. That's right, he broke his arm ironing his window 'cos the curtains were open. No, he broke his arm ironing his curtains, he fell out the window." The bloke on the next table laughed more loudly than Simon and I felt myself go bright red. I never seemed to learn to stop when I was ahead.

"What would you like to do now?" asked Simon his eyes boring through my body.

"I don't know," I replied yawning.

"Am I keeping you up?"

"Nooooooooooooooooooo" I yawned again, "Sorry," I said yawning a third time.

"How about a nice walk?" and that was how we ended up walking around the old harbour not far from HMS Victory, Nelson's flagship.

We strolled arm in arm and chatting about all sorts of things, none of them important, then Simon said, "You know, I've never known a girl like you before."

I'll bet, I thought to myself. "Why do you say that?" I asked instead.

"You're the first one who has actually agreed to come out more than once with me."

"So, what does that prove?"

"I'm not sure, maybe we're more compatible than the others?"

"I hadn't thought of that," I said without thinking at all.

"Oh?" he said, "So what did you think then?"

"I was simply going to say, that the others may have been the losers. If they had tried a bit longer, they might have seen what a nice guy you are."

I blushed and looked at him, he was blushing too. I stopped him and putting my arms around him whispered, "Kiss me." He didn't need to be asked twice.