The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2789 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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Most of Sunday seemed to be taken up with cooking a roast dinner. Okay, it’s a while since I did one and I wanted it to be a good one, so it took me all morning. While I did the preparation and then cooked it, Stella came and did her ironing so at least I had someone to chat to.

“Did I tell you about the guy I had in the other week?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied.

“He had a wotsit like a bloody elephant’s.”

“Ears, proboscis, tusks?”

“No his reproductive organ. It would have poked your eyes out.”

I gave this a moment to pass through my mind with suitable imagery. It was then I realised I hadn’t seen that many male sexual organs since I was in school and as I avoided games and gym like the plague, I didn’t see many then either. All that registered was they were all bigger than I and that didn’t bother me until I was near to surgery or assessment for and hoped I had enough tissue to do the job of remodelling.

As you know I did but it was all tight for some while but since seems to have stretched and it feels okay now—least I don’t get too many complaints from Simon.

“So what was he in for?”

“He had an infection in his trouser snake.”

“Don’t tell me some rare pachydermal complaint.”

“Eh?”

“Efferlumps are pachyderms.”

“Oh yeah, course. Anyway, he was saying it had grown a couple of inches since he’d got the infection...”

I listened because I was marinading the joint prior to incineration and couldn’t escape. I felt sorry for the elephant man, where would he find a partner big enough to accommodate him unless he went to the zoo. However I wasn’t listening carefully enough to catch the outcome.

Stella went off and Julie came to do her ironing and we had a chat. She was seeing some bloke and she had a feeling he might have a wife or girlfriend in the background somewhere. I just listened, she knew what to do so didn’t need me to tell her. I think she just wanted to talk it through with someone.

Next at the confessional, I mean ironing board, was Sammi and she wanted to talk about some bloke at work who she quite fancied but wasn’t sure if he fancied her. As she had a cracking figure and pretty face—no make that beautiful face—of course he did unless he was gay. I just told her to be careful if she was going to be staying at Simon’s flat—he’s got a studio flat about a mile from his office.

Danielle came and kissed me and then went off on her bike to the football match, it was a home game. I told her I’d keep her a dinner for when she came back and to call if she wanted me to come and get her. She was the first one to suggest I had enough to do—the others don’t even notice.

When Jacquie came to do her ironing I wondered what she’d want to discuss with me and hers was about her course. We talked through one problem she had with an English assignment the maths was something she’d need to talk with Simon or Sammi or even Trish. Jacquie has decided she wants to be a junior school teacher and is doing an education degree. I’m pleased for her in some ways in others I’m not so sure as teachers are so poorly treated by people today. All they see are the long holidays not the numbers of teachers off with stress or leaving the profession.

We talked for half an hour and she did some of my ironing while she was there, mostly the girls’ uniforms, but it would save me time later so I was grateful. Jacquie is quite a thoughtful soul and she always tells me I’ve been more of a mother to her than anyone else including the woman who gave birth to her, who’d been a great disappointment.

When the story of her wrongful conviction came out, despite our efforts to prevent it, her original mother only got in touch asking for a share in any compensation she got for all her suffering. Jacquie had great pleasure in telling her she’d get exactly the same amount of help as she’d given her. The woman seemed oblivious to the past and how she’d betrayed her daughter by not believing her against the bogus police evidence, so when Jacquie handed the phone over to me, I told the old bat where to go—go hang upside down in a deep cave somewhere. She ranted and raved at me until I told her the facts of life and the suffering her daughter had endured with no help from her at any point. I also told her if she contacted Jacquie again my lawyers would destroy her. So far she hasn’t called again.

Obviously we discussed the fact that if it got out that she’d been convicted of a crime even if she was innocent, some would choose to believe the worst and teaching could prove a problem. I knew transgender teachers had suffered from whispering campaigns and one had taken her life a few years ago when the Daily Mail had got involved preaching hate and intolerance despite the supposed anti-discrimination laws. But, Jacquie wanted to be a teacher, so we decided we’d support her all the way. Given the reputation of this family for law suits, so far no tabloids had been near her—and I would sue big time for the slightest inference that her conviction had been anything but a miscarriage of justice and recognised as such—the conviction being quashed.

While the meat was roasting, it was my turn to finish the ironing and I called the girls to take it up to their rooms and hang it carefully. Trish was doing some homework she’d forgotten to do, Livvie had done hers and asked if she could make some bread for me using the machine. I watched as she did it and she was likely to get lumbered with it on a regular basis if she wasn’t careful.

Meems was teaching the littlies how to read—I know an interesting scenario. But it possibly helped them and kept them out from under my feet and hot things in the kitchen. At exactly one o’clock I served dinner after Daddy had carved the joint. I did a dinner for Danni and popped it in the cooler oven to await her healthy appetite when she got home.

It was nice to see everyone tucking in and enjoying the food a bit like old times before we had a cook and so on. Unfortunately, with my current workload, I just couldn’t cope with running the house myself, not without significant help. It was fun while it lasted and part of me enjoyed being a hausfrau I’d have been bored to death in the end, so I’m glad I had a career to follow.

Some women would love to have the choice but need to work to help support the family. I consider myself lucky that I had that choice and as I said enjoyed doing the homemaker thing while it lasted but my destiny lies in other directions now and so when I have to do my bit in the house, providing I get some help, I quite enjoy the nostalgic feel to it especially as I know it’s for a very limited time.