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(aka Bike) Part 608 by Angharad |
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We managed to calm the girls down and the evening was reasonably normal. Simon phoned. “Hello, Babes, make sure someone is in on Saturday.”
“What is this mysterious gift, and is it from you or Henry?”
“You’ll have to wait and see, and it isn’t for you, it’s for Trish.”
“Duh, I know that. When are you coming home?”
“I’ll try over the weekend, now Dad is back at the hotel, he can do some work.”
“From the hotel?”
“Yes, he has a dedicated line to the office.”
“I’m not sure I’d feel safe making multi-million pound deals over a computer link.”
“How do you think I do it?”
“I’ve never thought about it.”
“Gee thanks, Babes, you really know how to stab me in the heart.”
“Come off it, you’re a big strong banker, and besides they don’t have one.”
“Damn, sussed again. I have to go, loads of paperwork to read before bed.”
“I’m taking Trish to see a new shrink tomorrow.”
“Damn, I’d have liked to be there, just to make sure this one doesn’t beat you up as well.”
“No way, this time I fight back–besides, it won’t be necessary, I’ve already sussed Dr Nicholson, she seems okay.”
“Only okay? Get a private one, I’ll pay.”
“That is really sweet of you, Simon, no wonder I love you…”
“You know me, anything to oblige."
"Okay, sweetheart, see you when you can get here.” I was about to put the phone down when I distinctly heard a woman’s voice say, “Come on, Simon darling, put the bloody phone down, dinner’s getting cold.”
The phone went dead and when I tried to call him back, his phone was off. I felt sick, what was going on? No wonder he couldn’t come home, if that present on Saturday is from him, I’ll shove it right up his nose–sideways! I was so cross I was incandescent.
Tom came down from reading to the girls. “Whit’s the matter wi’ye? Ye look like ye dropped a tenner and foond a bawbee*.”
“Simon just phoned, as he was putting the receiver down a woman called him to dinner. It sounded like a youngish woman, too. I think he might be unfaithful to me.”
“That’s all circumstantial, Cathy. It might be all innocent.”
“She called him darling; for God’s sake.”
“Now now, stay calm. Until you have more information you can’t do anything. So just bide a while, and calm doon. If he’s a scunner, I’ll help ye sort him oot later.” He put his arm around me and gave me a fatherly hug.
“Thanks, Daddy, and for helping me with the girls. I’m not coping terribly well, am I?” I sniffed a bit on his shoulder.
“Ye’re doin’ fine, in fact ye’re doin’ bloody brilliant. The girls love you, I’m sure that Simon does too, and then Stella thinks the world of ye, and ye ken weel how I feel.” He hugged me again, “Wi’oot ye, I’d be a dried-as-dust academic who naebody would bring tae mind wi’in a year or two. Ye’ve given me a family life as best as ever I could have imagined.”
“You say the sweetest things, Daddy,” I sniffed some more on his shoulder.
“Aye, I can be silver tongued when I’ve a mind to, but you, my angel, do the sweetest things, and deeds nae words, speak loudest.”
I made us some tea and it wasn’t until I got into bed and thought about Simon, that I wondered whose bed he was in.
I was tempted to call him, but if he answered it wouldn’t mean he was alone nor at his apartment–he has call divert. Even if he was at his place, it wouldn’t mean he hadn’t been somewhere else, earlier. I tossed and turned and read some of a lacklustre book about giant man-eating dormice from the planet Kruschev, or something, I wasn’t paying much attention.
I awoke when the man-eating dormice got into my bed, and realised I was okay, I’m a woman and went back to sleep. At seven, Messrs Naughtie and Humphrys woke me up, the death toll in the Italian earthquake was over two hundred. I shuddered inside, how could anyone get over such a trauma? Yet a day or so before they’d pulled out a ninety-eight year old woman who had been doing her crochet the whole time she was buried. Maybe, I should take it up–crochet, not being buried.
By eight o’clock we’d showered and dressed. Trish chose her clothing, which was about the frilliest dress she had. I tried to talk her out of it, but she was adamant. I think she might have been making a point. It was pink and white, she looked like a candy-stripe sheet with lace around the edges. She chose white socks, ankle variety with more frills around the top and her black patent shoes. Over this she wore her pink jacket and took her pink teddy bear back pack.
Then she practically drowned herself in scent, it was too strong to stand near her, so in the end, after much tears and tantrums, I made her change. She wore her denim skirt and a white knitted top. I let her keep the socks and shoes on. She was allowed to wear the pink coat and take her teddy bag. I wore denim too, a brushed denim trouser suit with red top and red heeled shoes.
“Well, Cathy, how nice to see you again, and this must be young Tricia?” Karen shook my hand and then Trish’s. “I’m Dr Nicholson, but you can call me Dr Karen, if you like, young lady.” We entered the consulting room and she sat beside her desk, not behind it, and we sat on two chairs next to it.
“So, Cathy, have you explained to Tricia why she’s here?”
“I have, Karen, but feel free to check with her. I’ll keep out of things unless I feel I need to make a point.”
“Excellent. Okay, Tricia, do you know why you’re here?”
“Yes, so I can stay with my Mummy.” She said this in a nervous stilted manner.
“You call Cathy, your mummy?”
“Yes, so does my sister.”
“This is Jemima?”
“Yes,” she was really nervous.
“Can I tell you something now, Tricia, I’m not going to take you away from your Mummy. I promise.”
“Thank you,” said Trish, very close to tears.
“Is that what you thought you were here for?”
Trish nodded and I passed her a tissue. Karen looked at me. “If I might explain: I told Trish who was originally reluctant to come here at all, that we needed to show that I wasn’t pushing her to become a girl, that it was something she wanted herself. She still didn’t want to come, suggesting there was little point in it, and I suggested that we needed to prove this to you or they might think I was abusing her and she could be removed from my custody.”
“But you said yesterday, she was calling herself Patricia before you ever met and that was confirmed by Dr Rose.”
“Yes, but you didn’t sound too convinced then,” I replied feeling a bit under fire.
“On the contrary, I was just probing a little, but that’s another matter. Now young lady, “she addressed her question to Trish, “How long have you felt you were more comfortable as a girl…”
The interview went on for perhaps another half an hour. On the whole the probing Karen did with Trish was gentle but incisive. She got a lot out of the child with great skill and some guile. I’m sure even someone as bright as Trish had no idea what was happening. I was full of admiration watching this woman do her job with enormous skill and tact.
At the end of the interview, Karen said to Trish, “I’d like to see you again, if that’s alright with you, I want to get to know you a bit better, and also with your attendance at school, I’d like to hear how you get on.”
“I’m really looking forward to it, Dr Karen.”
“Doesn’t it worry you at all?”
“Oh no, Dr Karen, I’m going to learn lots and make new friends, so it’s going to be fun.”
“I do hope so, Tricia. Anyway, come and see me next week and then after you start school.”
Trish nodded and shook the doctor’s hand, so did I. Then she ran out to the reception desk. “No one is going to take her away from you–so drop the anxiety, it’s not doing either of you any good.”
“I’ll try.”
“Oh, I saw the dormouse clip, very funny–and the BBC interview. You are one brave lady.”
“Is that all, you have to say?”
“Yeah, okay, so now I know why Sam sent her to you, but this time I happen to agree with him.”
“You don’t always?”
“God, no. I’m a shrink, I disagree on principle, it confuses people and gets me more work.”
“Watch you don’t bite your tongue while it’s stuck so far in your cheek.”
“Go and take your little girl home.”
“So you agree?”
“Let’s say, I don’t disagree as much as I thought I might.” We parted on that and I took Trish home for her lunch and some well earned ice cream.
_________________________________________
* Bawbee: An ancient Scottish halfpenny. See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bawbee
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Comments
Apologies now being accepted
Wadda ya know, Dr. Karen is not an evil b****! ;-) A simple "I'm sorry, I was wrong" written on a bank draft payable to the lovely author will do nicely. Don't make me send Guido by to pick them up in person. ;-)
I was afraid the thing with Simon would make Cathy a basket case and screw things up at the doctor's office, I'm pleased she maintained her self control. Now, just have to teach some to Trish! :-)
Karen J.
“When a clown moves into a palace, he doesn’t become a king. The palace becomes a circus.” - Turkish Proverb
The Good, The Bad And The Cathy ;-)
Karen is just what the doctor ordered, but what of Simon? What'll Cathy do? Wonder how many will know which movie that I am talking of in the title?
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Reality
I thought that was a documentary? Like "A Fistful Of Estrogen", or whatever it was. Came out about the same time as "The Sound Of Waxing", right?
;-)
They know they can survive
Let me take a guess, Stanman!
The film in question was directed by Sergio Leoni and starred Clint Eastwood, Lee Van Cleef and Eli Wallach (that should be enough of a spoiler for now)!
As for Simon and his mysterious female companion, I rather suspect the woman in question is none other than his step-mother-in-law, who was having him over for dinner while her husband is recuperating at the hotel.
Jenny
My thoughts exactly
about the female company of Simon that is. About the film in question I've absolutely no idea, I know it has been made -years ago- and I've seen most of it by now, haphazardly and fragmented. But that's okay, all those cowboy-types horsing around.
One thing though, Stan, isn't the original title something like : the good, the bad, and the ugly ? I don't think it's very complimentary to coin Cathy as the ugly one, the way you paraphrased it. A girl could take serious offence like that. Just a 'friendly' reminder Stan... :)
Jo-Anne
Bawbees…
…were still talked about when I was a wee girl in Scotland. Grandparents and elderly ladies would say things like, “You should save your bawbees, ma wee hen,†when you spent some money on a small present for them. I would hasten to add that “Hen†is a term of endearment in Scotland.
Hilary.
WD-40?
Been following your imaginative, if somewhat random, subtitles for some time now. I may have lost count, but I suspect we might be coming up on the 40th subtitle starting with W and D. As I can discern no other pattern to it, I'm forced to wonder if the proprietary lubricant product, or the publicly-listed stock of its maker (Nasdaq: WDFC), has somehow captured your imagination.
Fish Oil
Ah WD-40, fish oil in a can, great stuff!
Not a great fan
of WD40, there are better lubricants for bikes, although I do have some in my garage along with 3in1.
Angharad
Angharad
Water Displacement...
...is its primary purpose, which helps to prevent rust and other oxidation. This is what it was designed for, and it does this very well.
As a lubricant, it's not so great, because its rust-preventing properties include being sticky, once dried, so it attracts and holds fast to dust and grit, not to mention being famously flammable (indeed, explosive), which makes it a dicey thing to have about one's person if one is prone to falling off bikes. Indoors, the vapour is heavier than air, so it will readily flow along the floor to a source of ignition, such as a pilot light or electronic ignition mechanism in a water heater, cooker, or furnace.
There's precious little on modern bikes susceptible to rust, which limits the scope of its application in the first place, and there are better lubricants.
Like many "all-in-one" tools, it fails to be the best for any particular job other than its primary one, but if one's needs are limited to the sort of things combination hammer-screwdriver-spanners can do, it's just the stuff.
The main ingredient of WD-40 is what's called Stoddard solvent, which is solvent naptha (petroleum), medium aliphatic -- just the sort of stuff one doesn't want to dip one's hands in or breathe, since it's a central nervous system depressant and has other nasty side-effects. It's found in lots of products *other* than WD-40, including many so-called "fuel treatments," automobile cleaning and polishing products, and such.
Heavier versions are known as "white gas", "paraffin", or "kerosene", much used as "camping fuel" all around the world under different names.
The best thing paraffin ever did, though, was to bring about a precipitous decline of the execrable whaling industry, as it displaced expensive and labour-intensive "whale oil" with a cheaper petroleum-based product.
Puddin'
-----------
Fiction was invented the day Jonah arrived home and told his wife that he was three days late because he had been swallowed by a whale.
--- Gabriel Garcia Marquez
-
Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
Fish oil...
Not at all. Urban myth.
Puddin'
-
Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
WD - I suspect...
Ignoring the aptly named Wuthering Dormice arc, this may be a subtle reference to Cathy's languishing career as a scientist, since the Weibull Distribution, a statistical measure of great interest in survival analysis of declining animal and plant populations, would be an essential method of forecasting the effects of various efforts to protect the endangered dormouse in Great Britain and Europe. This recurring leitmotif is a haunting reminder of the many sacrifices and compromises Cathy makes as she wanders distractedly through her weird dominion.
Either that or it refers to Washer & Dryer, exemplars of her womanly domesticity.
Puddin'
-
Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
One wonders if Monica...
might just be "home" and calling darling Simon to dinner... She sounds like the type. Not sure why, but I get the impression Simon would have difficulty having a "fling" - even if the other girl "threw" herself at him. This is based on Stella's comments about his successes in the past. The only way I could see it is if Cathy'd given him so much confidence that he could pull it off. Time (and perhaps our author) will tell.
Glad things went well with Dr. Karen... Interesting, and not surprising, how defensive Cathy was, and how nerveous Trish was...
Thanks,
Annette
Simon
Simon is going to be one very confused person when he sees Cathy next time. Of course, the woman on the other end could have been doing it on purpose, for predatory reasons. He needs to pay more attention to the fine details.
well we know Cathy never
well we know Cathy never leaps before looking. this ought to be interesting.
WD-40 was the 40th mixture that is how it got it's name.. except for dry lube, all the others attract dust, not great on bike chains. but better than rust.
This shrink is sharp, very sharp. She seems to be nice though.
Cefin