Easy As Bathing Bonzi!
by: Ang(shredded)harad.
part 268.

Simon continued to grumble even in his sleep. He also broke wind fairly regularly. I almost felt like sleeping with my head out of the window, but that wasn't practical, but the next time I saw a gas mask in a junk shop, I thought I might buy it. In that night alone, I suspect he doubled the amount of methane in the atmosphere and I did wonder if we were at risk from explosion.

Somehow, when I finally awoke the next morning, it was to the phone ringing and banging on the front door, plus Kiki barking. The door was the engineer, the phone was Tom ringing to see if I was up and the barking was next door's cat throwing it's voice. Okay, I lied but you were thinking about it weren't you?

I made the man a cuppa and more importantly, one for myself. I felt like I hadn't slept for a week. But after a cuppa, it felt like it was only six nights. The Aga man seemed to know what he was doing, so I more or less left him to it. As he didn't need to turn off the water or anything, I went and showered and got myself dressed.

I called the hospital to see what was what with Stella. They would probably discharge her after lunch, she had to see the consultant who was in theatre this morning. I nearly asked what play he was watching, but decided not to. Not everyone shares my sideways take on life, except maybe, Tom, Simon, Stella and half my university class.

I made some more tea and after giving some to the engineer chap, who now had Tom's pride and joy in bits all over the kitchen, I went off and did some housework - I do occasionally. After a quick flit with the vacuum cleaner, called Dyson, I readjusted my ears, God it's noisy but sucks the tiles off the floor let alone the dirt, and there's carpet between the tiles and Dyson, I did the ironing.

It was mainly Simon's shirts, he does like to look bankerly, if there is such a word, it means clean and tidy and boring. Most of his ties are plain or with stripes. I did buy him one with a rather rakish spot pattern. I even got him one in a tartan, but he never wears them to work.

At times I think Simon is more conservative than his namesake, who thinks he runs the Tory party, the one who rides through red lights and other cycling offences. By comparison, Dave the Chamaeleon, as the Guardian calls him, is positively radical.

Tom does most of his own ironing, which is practically nil, he hangs things up and any wrinkles left, he wears. Much of the time, if they are still damp when he hangs them, it works well. Stella does her own, some of the time, usually when her slave is too busy. As for my clothes, I do the other's stuff first and whatever time is left over, I do my own. At uni, I wear whatever falls out of the wardrobe that will go with jeans. Or I used to, now the jeans make me sore, so I'm wearing skirts more than I used to. Seeing what I went through to be able to wear them, I suppose I should be glad I have the choice.

I checked my emails and then made myself some lunch, the breadmaker had pinged to say it was ready and the Aga man succumbed to the smell of fresh bread and some Brie, with cherry tomatoes and pickled beetroot. I should have dilated, but not with a stranger in the house, tonight would do. It would have to, I think Tom had a mallet if I needed it.

After lunch, I asked the Aga man, whose name was Ken, how long he thought he would be. He told me two hours, so I went to get Stella.

She seemed back to her old self, she nagged and joked all the way back to Tom's. I took her in and introduced her to Ken who was putting the Aga back together and about to try a test firing - I thought they did that with missiles - was this going to be the first Aga in space?

Taking Stella's bag up to her room the silly thought entered my silly brain, Aga Ken, the Aga Ken. I sniggered to myself, he'd probably heard it before.

I started preparing the veg for dinner while Stella went up for a snooze, she had kept the engineer amused while I sorted out her washing.

"So are you the professor's daughter?"

"Sort of," I said and his eyebrows raised. "I'm a colleague of his but our house was damaged and we've stayed with Tom while it's being renovated. He took me under his wing a couple of years ago and has been like an extra father, so I respect him like one. He's a lovely man."

"Oh the post came while you were out."

"Oh thanks, I ordered a book from Amazon, so that's probably what it was."

"No, they always have Amazon written all over them, it's something else. Are you Lady Catherine?"

"Sort of."

"What for real?"

"Sort of."

"Eh?"

"I am engaged to Simon who is Lord Cameron, Stella is Lady Stella Cameron. When I marry him, I become Lady Catherine. Some people have jumped the gun and call me it already. I don't correct them because it only confuses the issue, as I will eventually bear the title."

"Ah, I see. I've seen you somewhere before haven't I?"

Here we go, the dormouse juggling was about to get a mention. I busied myself with peeling cabbage and shredding potatoes. I kept my back to him not to assist in his recollection.

"I've got it. My bank."

"Your bank? I didn't know you owned a bank."

"No, it's you on the poster for the environmental stuff the bank does, you're holding a dormouse. It is you, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's me I advise the bank on matters biological."

"Oh good, my wife always admires your suit."

"Oh the YSL one."

"The what?" He looked up from screwing some nut and bolt together.

"Yves Saint Laurent, French dress designer."

"No wonder she likes it then, she hoped it might have been from Next or Topshop."

"Fraid not, but I do have some Laura Ashley stuff, you can get that on the high street."

"Not on my pay."

"Oh, I see. She doesn't work then?"

"She does when I get home, we have two kids, so she goes off shelf stacking in Tesco when I get home."

"Still every little helps," I said suddenly realising that it was a Tesco jingle. Advertising was obviously better than I thought, especially as I watched so little telly.

"Yeah, I suppose it does." He fired up the Aga and it worked. He checked out the ovens and they seemed to be working. "There you go, get the professor to call if there's a problem, it's all guaranteed."

I thanked him and gave him a bottle of wine to take with him. As he left he asked, "That wasn't you in the clip with the dormouse was it? Going down the front...."

"That suit, yes. Do you realise if I got the Nobel Prize, they'd still go on about the dormouse clip?"

"I think they said it had received over two million hits, the clip I mean."

"If I'd been a bloke, it wouldn't have been quite as funny, would it?"

"Nah, unless it went up or down your trousers."

"Yeah, I suppose."

I went back in and busied myself with cooking the dinner, now Stella was home, she was going to get as fat as I was, I'd make sure of that.