The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1316 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

It transpired that Trish thought I had a downer on her, but when she explained the various ways she’d transgressed and I’d punished her, Stephanie told her that she wished I’d been her mummy, because her mother was a lot tougher than I’d been. She also asked Trish what punishments were like in the children’s home and she admitted they were worse. Finally, she told her that my concerns arose from love and that all of the children were very much loved by Simon, Tom and I, as well as Stella, Henry and Monica. Trish admitted she knew this.

Stephanie told her that she was starting Billie on hormones and that in a couple of years she would look at perhaps putting her on them too. Of course Trish grumbled but Steph told her the facts of life and that she’d already had surgery ten years too early, so not to push her luck. Stephanie informed her that if Trish spoke nicely to her mummy, that aforesaid mummy might be persuaded to buy some hormone like substances which would help her. At this Trish immediately cheered up and agreed to behave. When Stephanie told me this, I knew I had a nice form of control for Trish–toe the line or you won’t get your plant sterol capsule.

The next day, a Monday, I was implored to go and get the various things Stephanie had either prescribed–for Billie–or suggested for Trish. They couldn’t get out of the car quickly enough to send me on my way to the town centre, Livvie and Meems thought it was comical but then they have a readymade supply of oestrogens which will kick in at the appropriate time.

I parked the car and walked into the shopping area, redeeming the prescription at the pharmacy and then popping into Holland and Barrett for some soya-isoflavones for Trish. Then it was more mundane shopping for some new underpants for Simon, why does he like those horrible boxer things? I bought him some Y-fronts ones which should at least offer some support if he has a coughing fit.

I bought myself some new bras after being measured, I discovered I was a thirty four C cup borderline D. There is no way I’m wearing a D cup, at this rate I’ll need a wheelbarrow. I know they’ll shrink when I stop breastfeeding, but Catherine does like her fresh milkshakes. She’s coming along beautifully, eating solids and chewing on the odd crust of bread. Unfortunately, the more teeth she has, the more she has to bite me with–and doesn’t she–little monster. She’s chewed on me so often, I sometimes wonder if there was enough pressure would it spray out like a shower rose? A gruesome thought.

I treated myself to a latte coffee and after a few more bits and pieces round the shops, I grabbed a top which I thought Stella would like and went home. I showed it to Jenny, who agreed about Stella. After lunch, she suggested that she’d collect the girls if I wanted to go and see Stella–I wasn’t going to say no, especially as I had to take Trish to see Sam Rose the next day.

I made us a quick tuna salad with homemade bread, after which I set off for the clinic. It’s a boring drive but I listened to Classic fm on the radio as I went. It’s some weeks since I’d seen her or Gareth. He’d sold his house, renting one while he waited to see how Stella was. He’d only rented the one he had because it had a double garage which was packed to the roof with his furniture.

Stella was looking quite well and the bump was beginning to show quite a bit. I gave her the top and she was really pleased with it. She admitted that she’d been very fed up of late, the pregnancy and being confined was enough to make her so. I understood and asked if she’d like to come out for a ride in the car if the clinic agreed. They did, so I took her out for a ride and we found a little tea room at which we had tea and cucumber sandwiches–or she did, I had a toasted tea cake with my tea.

I brought her up to date with my brood and she was amused with Trish’s antics. “She’s a bit of a girl, is that one.”

“You’re telling me, she is. She’s a total monster at times and in between, she’s positively angelic. I can’t make her out. She pushes the boundaries all the time like a teenager, but she’s only just seven.”

“Yes but a very precocious seven.”

“I know, but she doesn’t have the breadth of experience to match her book-knowledge. It’s like reading a book on the basics of sailing and then trying to sail across the Atlantic, but of course at her age she can’t see it. At times I’m cast in the role of ancient fuddy-duddy or general killjoy. She’s such a bright spark, so why can’t she see that?”

“Because that would be an emotional thing, understanding often involves more than just cognitive skills, it means balancing it with the right degree of emotion. To do that requires a degree of maturity which is why I find it so difficult–Daddy spoilt me rotten–especially after Mummy left.”

Goodness, am I finally to learn about the first Vicountess Stanebury? I kept completely quiet.

“Daddy was such a womaniser that Mummy threatened to leave him several times. They loved each other but he couldn’t leave other women alone, so finally she did move out. She went and stayed with a woman friend so we had to stay with Daddy–well we were actually away at school, so it was only holidays. I played hell with him, telling him how stupid he was and that he ought to cut it off if he couldn’t control it. I was about nine at the time.”

“Surely you saw her in between, though didn’t you?”

“Yes we did, then she took up with Michael. Naturally we were rather put out, we wanted our parents to be back together again and it wasn’t going to happen, but children won’t see that–emotional maturity–told you I didn’t have any.

“She wanted to marry, Michael but I made such a song and dance about it, she called it off. Daddy was furious with me, but seeing as he was the cause of the trouble, I gave him a load of home truths I wouldn’t have the nerve to say now.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten or eleven.”

“Crikey, I wouldn’t have been able to do it then either–passive resistance was my modus operandi.”

“As with the school play?”

“Absolutely. Did I tell you, I’m going to play Lady M again?”

“No–when is that?”

“Dates are being finalised, Matthew Hines is playing Mac-B.”

“What? The film star?”

“Yes–he’s never done any Shakespeare since he left school.”

“What? So who’s going to teach him dramatic technique?”

“The director or his drama coach–I presume he has one.”

“You lucky cow, what wouldn’t I give to play with Matt Hines?”

“His wife is nice.”

“Yes except she simply exists–which spoils it for millions of women.”

“Don’t be so mean, she’s even more pregnant than you.”

“So where are you doing this ‘ere play?”

“At Trish’s school.”

“You’ve got a world famous heart throb to come to Trish’s school to do a play with you?”

“Yeah, in a word.”

“You jammy cow.”

“He’s not such a great catch, but his wife is a lovely person. Anyway, sister mine, I’d better take you back and go and feed the five thousand.”

“Is that how many kids you have now?”

“Some days it does feel like it.” I answered and we both laughed.