The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2330 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I answered the phone when it rang. “Is that Stella Cameron?”

“No it’s Cathy.”

“Is this the right number for Stella?”

“It might be, who’s calling.”

“Roger Mitchell.”

“Hold on, I’ll see if she’s available.”

I sent Trish off to see if Stella was about. She dashed back saying she’d gone to work and had put Puddin’ in the crèche.

“I’m afraid she’s not here, would you care to leave a message?”

“Is she at the hospital.”

“I’m sorry, without knowing who you are, I’m not prepared to say where she is.”

“Okay, I’ll try the hospital but please tell her I rang.”

“I certainly will,” he rang off and I wrote a quick note to remind myself of his name. The girls were going back to school on Monday, it was now Wednesday so I got them to try on uniforms to make sure things still fitted. Shoes were the big problem, they all, except Danni who had new ones a term ago, needed new ones.

I left Cate and Lizzie in Jacquie’s capable hands and took the others into town and finally managed to reach a compromise with the three horrors that they could have a bar shoe with an inch heel. They all had the same style—so there would be no jealousy—and the bill was a hundred and fifty quid. They all got new socks, including Danni, two pairs of long socks in white and four pairs of ankle socks—It is supposed to be coming into summer, although since Easter, the weather has become quite unsettled. It is only April and temperatures have been mild, there can still be a chill from the wind. It began to rain and as we didn’t need any further shopping, we went home where I asked them to make sure they didn’t have any homework outstanding. Much to my surprise, Danni had done hers, so had Meems but Trish and Livvie had an essay to write on the beginnings of the Norman conquest. They weren’t very happy about it until I reminded them we’d been to Battle and I also managed to find them a video which suggested that the historical sites were unproven if not wrong and that the most likely site was now a busy road junction. If Time Team couldn’t find evidence at the traditional sites, then it looked possible that their assumption could be correct and it was at the road junction. I left all of them watching the video.

I was in the kitchen drinking tea and talking to David when Danni decided she didn’t care where the battle of Hastings was fought as it was, ‘like so many years ago, who cared?’

I could sympathise with her attitude but the battle was a key moment in English history, so needed to be understood.

“Dunno why you think it was so important, Mummy.”

“It changed the ruling classes and hence the direction of the culture of the country.”

“Were they all frogs, Mummy?” asked Livvie.

“Yes, William was Duke of Normandy, but as Normans means Norsemen, they were of Viking descent.”

“Goodness, you do know a lot, Mummy.” Danni was either thicker than I thought or much cleverer.

“Not really, sweetheart, just well educated.” Actually, I do know quite a lot compared to the kids of today, but they seemed to know more about computers than I ever will.

It almost seems innate that they press a few buttons and off they go. Trish and Livvie leave me behind when they start talking about computers. I don’t really care how they work as long as they do work when I want or need them to. I don’t need to know how a car works to drive one.

“We could do with you on our pub quiz team,” David said at me rather than to me.

“Not really, David, I don’t know anything much about pubs.”

He laughed at me, “It’s not about pubs, but it follows a pub style format.”

“What they water down the questions, you mean?”

“Hey, keep that under your hat, no one is supposed to know about that.”

At about five, Stella drove in with Puddin’ in the baby seat in her car. “I could kill for a cuppa,” she said.

“Did anyone phone you at the hospital?”

“Yeah, loadsa people, why?”

“Some guy phoned here.”

“Who?”

“Dunno, I left you a note by the phone.”

She got up and walked over to the phone and picked up the note from the board alongside it. “Roger Mitchell, who the hell is he when he’s at home?”

“I have no idea except he had quite a reasonable speaking voice.”

As if to maximise its effect the phone rang as she walked away from it and we both jumped which made David roar with laughter. She was nearer so she picked up the handset. It turned out it was this Roger bloke again.

“Do I know you?” she said quite loudly down the phone. It appeared she did because a few moments later she said, “Oh that Roger Mitchell.” This was followed by, “I could be, what tonight?” She then covered the mic and whispered, “Could you babysit tonight?” I was sure we could and nodded. “What time tonight?” Yeah, seven thirty’s fine,” this was followed by a description of the house and directions to get to it.

“So, who is he?”

“No one special, why?”

“So why are you going out on a date with him then?”

“He’s in the area and was at a loose end tonight.”

“You don’t normally drop everything for some mundane bloke, do you?”

“So, I’m doing it different tonight if that’s all right with you?”

“Of course it is, but who is he?”

“I met him on a course couple of years ago.”

“What sort of course?”

“Bugger off,” she said rudely and walked away.”

We’d all had dinner except Stella who was eating out with the mystery caller. She wouldn’t say anything more about him but he was punctual and collected her in his big black, newish BMW. So we couldn’t see him, she trotted off down the drive and they drove off moments after she got into the car.

“Who was the guy in the Beamer?”asked Julie who drove into the drive moments before they left.

“Roger Mitchell, apparently.”

“So is Auntie Stell gonna get rogered tonight then?” asked my eldest.

“I have no idea, she usually get plastered not laid.”

“If she plays her cards right she could get both for the price of a couple of drinks.”

“Julie, I hope you’re joking, if you think about her record, the last thing we need is another illegitimate child here.”

“Sometimes, Mummy you are so old fashioned.”

“Only sometimes, have I let my standards drop then?”

Her answer was to laugh at me. Trish appeared a minute later. “Got it, Mummy.”

“Got what?” asked Julie.

“The car number, was clear as daytime with the image intensifier.”

“Eh?” asked Julie.

“If anything happened to Stella, at least we could show some evidence.”

“Is it likely to?” Julie seemed dismissive of our idea. I had to admit in the cold light of day, probably not.