The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2679 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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The following evening Hannah decided she didn’t wish to go and see her mother again and concentrated on her revision with Trish. Much to my astonishment, Livvie asked to go with David, who I suspect was just as taken aback and couldn’t think of a reason to say no.

Once again they were back at ten and I really wondered what had happened and why Livvie had been so insistent—she hardly knew the woman, except for her time here as my home help. After they came back, I packed Livvie off to bed with a drink of milk and biscuit. She kissed me goodnight and went off to clean her teeth.

David was sitting in the kitchen, he looked tired. I pointed to the kettle and he nodded. We were sitting opposite each other across the table with our mugs of tea before I asked him what happened.

He shook his head slowly. “I think I know why I wanted to be a man.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“I’m neither tough enough nor aggressive enough to be a woman.”

I felt myself looking wide eyed at him but said nothing.

“We arrived at the hospital and went to Ingrid’s room, she’s still in her own room. Livvie asked how she was and Ingrid told her she was still in a lot of pain. So Livvie said to her, ‘That’s your own fault isn’t it?’ I was gobsmacked. Ingrid said to her, ‘How d’you work that out?’ and Livvie retorted, ‘You’re a common prostitute and they sometimes get attacked by their tricks.’” At this I think my mouth was wide open as well as my eyes.

“What business of yours is it what I do, little girl?” Ingrid said back to her.

“Nothing, except it affects your daughter who happens to be a good friend of mine. She gets upset at having to hide from the disgusting men who come to see you and doesn’t like what you do. Unless you stop doing it she wants to stay with us.”

“I see,” said Ingrid, “so you think you know my Hannah better than me her mother?”

“At least I listen to her, which is more than you do or you’d know how unhappy she was.”

“I don’t have the privilege of all the money your so called mother has, so I have to earn what I can, how I can—not that I have to justify my lifestyle or decisions to a child.”

“Not even your own child?” Livvie fired back obviously not in awe of the older woman.

“At least I am her mother, which is more than that pompous thing which calls itself your mother is.”

“The pompous thing who saved your life and gave you food and shelter and loads presents that Christmas—she’s twice the woman you’ll ever be and a better mother than you could be if you lived to a hundred, you stupid whore.”

“At this point I felt I had to intervene. I asked Livvie to apologise to Ingrid and she told me she hadn’t said anything to apologise for as it was all true. I was gobsmacked and asked her to wait outside. I apologised to Ingrid on her behalf not for what she’d said but how she’d said it.”

Ingrid looked at me and laughed, “Call yourself a man, that kid’s got more balls than you’ll ever have.”

“What d’you mean?”

“She’s absolutely right, that thing is probably twice the woman I’ll ever be and is a better mother—not that I ever claimed to be one that modelled herself on Family Circle. I’ve come up the hard way which makes me a survivor without the benefits of the Cameron millions behind me. Let her keep my Hannah, help her make something of herself, but just don’t come crowing to me because I’ll blind her—oh an’ tell her to come and fight her own battles next time, not send one of her spoilt brats.”

“Cathy was as surprised as I was that Livvie wanted to come with me, honestly.”

“David, you’re either a very good liar or a very stupid man—take the stupid little bitch home and tell her so called mother what I said. If social services come and see me, I’ll sign Hannah over to her as a foster parent or guardian. Now go, you’re boring me.”

I looked at David who looked somewhat shell-shocked by his experience.

“Is she just playing with us?” I asked him, “Will she have changed her mind tomorrow?”

He shrugged, “Cathy, I have no idea other than she as good as told me she had more respect for Livvie than she did for me. Given what she was saying the other night when she complaining about Hannah becoming too posh, I don’t know which is really how she feels. But if I bore her, I don’t think I’ll be going back to see her.”

I made some more tea and we sat and drank it. “I think I understand her.”

“You might, I certainly don’t,” David sipped his tea.

“I suspect she might have taken more on board of what Hannah said than you realised. Then when Livvie confirmed it all, she decided it might be better to let Hannah stay here and for her to cut her losses and live by herself for a while at any rate.”

“She loves her daughter so little that she’d give her up without a fight? That’s not the Ingrid I knew.”

“David, I think you’ve got it the wrong way round.”

“What—okay explain it to me, then.”

“Assume she loved her daughter but couldn’t cope or provide properly for her, then discovers her daughter despises her despite her best efforts to provide for her, and an easy but painful alternative appears in the form of a wealthy family who know your child and although they might make her a bit posh compared to her roots, they would also give her a better chance than she could...”

“God that is convoluted, why can’t women do anything that’s straightforward?”

“It’s straightforward enough to me. Why did so many women in days gone by give up their illegitimate children for adoption?”

“Because they couldn’t feed them.”

“Partly, but because they wanted them to have a better chance in life. It takes a very strong woman to give up her child to help the child prosper. My respect for Ingrid has just grown significantly.”

“Hang on, you’re telling me Ingrid is giving up Hannah because she has a better chance with you than staying with her?”

“Yes.”

“So why couldn’t I see that?”

“I think you might have been too close to the situation to see it in perspective.”

He shook his head, “I’d never have made it as a woman, you’re all far too complicated in your thinking for me.”

“It’s not rocket science, David, it’s basic maternal instinct.”

“If you say so.” He wished me good night and went off to his cottage. I decided I would have a talk with Hannah tomorrow and get her to write a letter to her mother thanking her for her courage—well okay, try to get her to write a letter.