The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1427 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“My finger hurts,” said Danny loudly, not to me but rather at me. I ignored it, I was replacing the chain on my Scott and had both hands full.

“Did you hear me, Mum?” he asked directly.

“Of course, there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.”

“Can’t you zap it, like you used to?”

“No.”

“You could fix your bike afterwards, zap that too.”

With a feeling of resignation, I looked up at him–my back appreciated the opportunity to stand upright–which even though I had the bike on the stand, required me to bend over to work on it.

“Danny, I told you all the other day that I have lost the ability to channel the blue light. How long it will last, I have no idea, but I spent the first twenty odd years without it, so I guess I’ll have to cope for a bit longer. Alas, that means you’ll have to as well–sorry and all that.”

I bent down again lifting the now clean chain back over the sprockets of the chainrings. “Look, it’s gone all black.” He practically poked me in the eye shoving his finger in front of my face.

I stood up once more examined his hand and shook my head, “That’s just bruising, if it’s causing you so much trouble I’ll try and get you into see Dr Smith this evening. I could put it in a sling, then you’d have to rest it but it would mean you couldn’t come riding with us this afternoon.”

“You taking us out riding?”

“No, I’m just sorting this bike because I got fed up with house work.”

“Oh, so you’re not riding?” Obviously irony as well as sarcasm was lost on him.

“Of course I’m riding, why d’you think I’ve just spent twenty minutes cleaning this chainset?”

“Oh great, I’ll tell the others.”

“I thought your finger was so sore you needed a general anaesthetic?”

“Feels better now,” he ran off before I could break any more of his digits.

I had cleaned up three bikes and re-oiled them, I’d also replaced the brake blocks on Billie’s, she said it had felt like she was riding with the brakes on–she was the back brake had seized. Took me ages to dismantle it clean it, lube it and refit it and then do the brake blocks. At least the cables were okay, so a shot of lube down those as well and I was finished.

I stood up straight and my back told me it didn’t like me bending over for the past two hours. I’ve got a chair in the workshop, which was useful for working on the brake once I’d removed it–then I could sit at the bench–but I couldn’t get on with sitting and working at the workshop stand, to start with, sometimes you need to move around. Oh well, it was all done now and so was I. A cuppa would be priority number one then, think about lunch.

“We goin’ widin’?” asked Meems.

“After lunch, perhaps.”

“Danny said we was.”

“Were.”

“Wot?”

“Danny said we were, not we was.”

“Well ’e did.”

I gave up, I could never win a verbal spar with Meems, she’s from a different planet with entirely different forms of pronunciation and grammar. Either that or she speaks a foreign language and I hadn’t noticed. She’s seen two different speech and language therapists and both were bald by the time they’d finished–I think they went off to work in Afghanistan–it was easier.

I did try zapping her a few times including when she was asleep, the spot on her nose healed but her speech stayed the same. I have a feeling when she’s ready she’ll sort it herself.

She gave me a hug while I waited for the kettle to boil and I stroked the top of her head, “Are you coming out on the bikes with us?”
“Uh huh,” she said nodding, she didn’t always, sometimes she stayed behind with Jenny or Stella and helped with the little ones, but not today.

I drank my tea, Jenny came and had one as well, Stella was out on her own and she’d agreed to babysit the two babies and Puddin’, who’d been watched by Meems and Trish while Livvie and Danny had been playing a computer game.

I did a salad for lunch, hard boiling some eggs and grating some cheese to go with it. For a treat I opened a pack of crispy bacon which I broke up and mixed with the cheese. I drained off the new potatoes, shoved a knob of butter on them sprinkled some garlic on them and mixed them round in the dish.

Half an hour later, nothing remained of my efforts–a party of very hungry locusts had flitted through and scoffed everything except the patterns on the plates. It was one o clock and I reckoned we could start riding about half past or quarter to two–give them a chance for their lunch to go down.

I glanced out at the weather as Jenny helped me clear up the dishes, the previously sunny sky was clouding over and it was feeling very heavy and humid. “When is Stella supposed to be back?” I asked her.

“Twelve,” she sighed.

“Nothing new there then?”

“No, she does seem to work on her own time schedule.”

“You’ve noticed?”

“I ought to have, she does this to you or me often enough.”

I shrugged, “She’s family, so what can I do? But if you want to complain, I’ll back you up.”

“Nah, not worth it, she get’s funny sometimes even if she’s in the wrong.”

“Stella is never in the wrong, it’s just that you can’t appreciate the complexity of her argument.”

“Y’wot?”

“Never mind, I’ve forgotten what I said now. Here she comes, or at least it’s her car.”

“Where’s Gareth these days?” Jenny scratched her nose.

“I–um think they’re having some time from each other.”

“He’s dumped her then?”

I shrugged, I didn’t know the answer and I wasn’t going to speculate.

“Pity, she could do with a good secure relationship, I thought he was right one for her, not so sure now.” Jenny was prepared to speculate but I didn’t answer her, Stella came in and went straight up to her room without so much as a murmur.

“Oh, nice of her to say hi,” Jenny quipped.

“She will when she comes back to earth.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I think she’s been to see her therapist, she often takes a bit to unwind after that.”

“Oh–look, d’you want to take the kids and I’ll stay about the place in case she needs some help.”

“I will if you like, but I thought you were looking forward to some fresh air?”

“I’ll go out in the garden with the littlies, tie them down over an ant’s nest if they misbehave.”

“You’ll have to coat them in jam then, we’re out of honey.” I pointed to the cupboard.

“Goodness, Cathy, if anyone heard us talking they’d be sending in a social services squad to take the children off to safety.”

“That’s how I got ‘em, still if they did, I’d have more time for riding.”

“You’d miss ‘em now, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would, I’d have to justify my existence, work for a living that sort of thing, at the moment–I do a bit and leave a bit.”

“You don’t leave much, some days I have a struggle to find enough to make it look like I’m working.”

“That’s kind of you to say, Jen, right, I’ll give Missy Muppet her feed and go and change and take the peloton out for an airing.” Which is what I did; at a couple of minutes after two we mounted our bikes and set off along the cycle path with me keeping a wary eye on the sky.

About half an hour later it became darker, and large blobs of water began descending upon us. None of us had waterproofs–we’d have died from heat exhaustion if we’d been wearing them. There was a flash and a bang and the celestial fireworks went off over head as the rain began to teem down in torrents.

Thank goodness Stella was at home, the déjá  vu of how we first met was too strong to forget, and now she could wipe out a whole family.

“Mummy, doan wike funner,” said Meems dropping her bike and running to me for hug.”
Just then, there was another clap and the ground seemed to tremble, a flash and a tree was hit across the road. Suddenly, even Danny was coming closer for a hug, the bikes lying on the path. Another bang and this time even I felt afraid–I think the ground did tremble.