The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2392 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Now where did I put that... ah there it is,” I carefully folded the baby’s dresses then dungarees. Some disposable nappies for emergency use only, toiletries and a spare bath towel and Cate’s stuff was almost finished.

Next I went into the mouseketeer’s bedroom and began filling cases with panties and vests, then tops and jeans, a skirt each and one dress. Nighties or pj’s? I opted for nighties as easier packed. A small pack of tissues and their toiletries went in too, as well as a cardi in case it went cooler. Half an hour later I’d pretty well filled three cases.

The question of whether to pack for Danni or not was decided by the fact that not so long ago she was a boy and would pack everything she needed about five minutes before we left. I spent half an hour packing for her in much the same vein as I had for the others. I left her to choose her toiletries and makeup.

I didn’t know what to do about packing for Simon, so taking a tea break I sent him a text, he sent back to say he’d do his own. That was fine by me, I laid out my own things and within forty minutes I’d packed most of what I’d need. I charged my iPad and my camera and went to collect the girls who were fizzing like bottles of pop.

I got them in the car and then had to shout to get attention. “Right, I’ve packed for you all except your cameras and iPads, which I suggest you charge when you get home. The same with mobile phones. You’ll need to pack makeup, jewellery and hair accessories.”

“Yes, Mummy,” came the reply.

“Have I been to Yowkshiwe, Mummy?”

“I don’t know, Mima. I can’t remember taking you.”

“Have we?” asked Livvie and Trish.

“I don’t know, girls.”

“I don’t think I’ve been there either.”

“Some of it is Gaby country.”

“Wiww we see huh?”

“I don’t know, Mima, you’ll just have to keep your eyes peeled won’t you?”

“She goes to Meadowhall, or Meadowhell, as she calls it. Can we go there, Mummy.”

“We won’t have time,” I responded and they groaned but I was determined I wasn’t going shopping on my holiday. “You can always see if you can see the author of the Gaby stories, who I’m sure will be at the races or that other one with the unpronounceable name, who is another bike nut. I’ll bet she’s there as well, probably marshalling it if I know her.”

“What does she look like?” asked Trish.

“Old and wrinkled and Welsh,” I offered back.

“Ugh,” was the general consensus, “Is she a witch?”

“I don’t know, but if you see someone sitting on a broomstick, it’s either Harry Potter or that Welsh woman writer.”

“I’d rather see ’Arry Potter,” said Danni.

“You know, I would too, except he couldn’t autograph your books.”

“Perhaps he could make Wiggly Braddings win it?” considered Livvie.

The others laughed, “You mean, Wiggo or Bradley Wiggins,” corrected Danielle.

“Yeah, him.”

“He isn’t riding.”

“That mean he has to walk?” Danni was in jocular mood.

“’Fraid so,” I said turning into the driveway. “Get changed and do your homework and I’ll get you a drink and a biscuit.” They stamped off like a herd of gambolling rhinos.

“Tea?” offered David as I slumped down in a chair.

“Oh please—why did I ever crave a large family?”

“To prove your femaleness?”

“Does it?”

“In your eyes, probably.”

I sipped my tea. “Could it be a reaction to being an only child?” I asked, “I always wanted a sister to play with.”

David shrugged but poured out four glasses of milk and four biscuits. The hungry marchers took a drink and a biscuit each then adjourned to the dining room to do their homework. For an hour there was relative silence until they finished their assignments. Then they squabbled for another half an hour. Bang went any chance I had of a rest and before long I was telling them off as usual.

“Do they have polar bears in Yorkshire?” asked Trish and I wasn’t sure if it was a wind up or a real question.

“No, they have Yorkshire bears.”

“Are they made of chocolate?”

“No, unless it’s white chocolate.

“Why?”

“They’d scare everythin’ in sight.”

“Not when it snows,” suggested Danni.

“It’s not going to snow, is it Mummy?” asked a now anxious Mima.

“No, it’s summer you berk.” Trish spat at her.

“I was asking mummy.

“I think we’ll be safe from snow, Mima,” I reassured her.

“An’ the beaws?”

“There won’t be any bears, Meems.” The last one was killed in seventeen something I believe.

At dinner most of the conversation related to le Tour, then suddenly Stella said, “Anyone see that some scientist has developed a strain of bird flu virus which no human is safe from.”

“What’ya mean?” asked her sibling.

“Apparently it isn’t susceptible to any human antibodies.”

“Why did he do it?”

“To prove two things, first, that he could and second, he’s a total tosser.”

Simon nearly choked at my summation. Given how dangerous such a virus could be, it was an act of pure folly. Add to it the fact that in the wrong hands, it could have catastrophic effects upon thousands if not millions of people. I know I regularly say we need a good epidemic to thin out the population, but not one like that manufactured virus would produce and if one scientist can do it, surely another could and if he happens to be a fanatical believer in Islam or any other sky fairy myth, he could release it in the western world and wait for millions of us to die.

If it spread to birds or domestic animals as well, it could destroy much of the population of the planet. What an incredibly stupid thing to do, it beggars belief. One of the weakest aspects of humans is their ego, one person’s could kill many.

Tom was stroking his beard, “Aye, great folly,” he muttered to himself. It sounded like part of the plotline for a Jack Higgins or Michael Crichton thriller, only it seemed unlikely anyone would be saving the world, certainly not with Tammiflu.

I read to the girls, a Gaby story. “Will Gaby really be at the race?” asked Trish showing she was only nine years old.

“I expect so, but not necessarily where we’ll be.”

“So we might not see her.”

“Darling, there will be thousands of people about, if we don’t stay together in that sort of crowd, we might not see each other for several hours. So keep your phones handy.”

“I’m fwighted,” Mummy, “I might get wost.”

“Don’t worry, Meems, Daddy and I will look after you and Danni will help as well.”

That seemed to settled her down and they finally went to sleep.