The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2841 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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In bed that night I told Simon What I thought of his silly games at the dinner table. “You seem to have been the only one upset by it.”

“I was the one who was being teased, none of the others were expected to know who you meant.”

“It was only a bit of fun—lighten up.”

“Is that what a pack of dogs about to invade a field of sheep say?”

“I don’t recognise the comparison.”

“I hope you have a lovely evening.”

“We will.”

“Yes, I’m going up to Bristol—check over my house.”

“I want you here.”

“Should have asked me nicely then instead of humiliating me.”

“I didn’t, it was just a bit of gentle teasing.”

“Like the dogs say to the sheep.”

“Okay, you’ve made your point I’m a ruthless, heartless wolf terrifying my little baa lamb, I apologise unconditionally. Now will you stay?”

“Can I think about it?”

“This is tomorrow we’re talking about.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

“So when will you give me your answer?”

“When I’ve reached one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it says, when I have reached a conclusion, I’ll inform you.”

“What sort of game are you playing—it’s easy, you either say yes or no.”

“Or perhaps, or maybe.”

“Those aren’t acceptable.”

“Better ask Julie or Sammi to act as hostess then.”

“I bloody well will. Sod you.” He turned over and I know he wasn’t asleep because neither was I. I couldn’t say when I eventually drifted off but it was between one and two and I was up again at seven feeling like piece of stale bread. How much sleep Simon had—couldn’t say. I took the girls to school and they were anxious because Si and I were squabbling.

“It’s nothing, couples do this from time to time.”

“I don’t like it when you fight,” said Livvie, “my first parents were always doing it. I lost them, I don’t want to lose you, Mummy; nor Daddy.”

“You won’t lose me or your father, kiddo.”

“You’re just punishing him for being mean to you at dinner, aren’t you?”

“Something like that. Sometimes the only way I can get him to understand is to be just as mean as he was.”

“That’s just dumb kid’s stuff.” Livvie didn’t mince her words.

“Aren’t you as bad as him?” asked Trish.

“My parents used to fight all the time, in the end they split up,” Hannah said quietly.

“This isn’t a fight...”

“What is it then apart from a giant sulk?” How old is Livvie?

“I’m letting him know he hurt me...” I insisted.

“By making him look stupid to guests—these people know you better than Daddy, if you’re not there, he’s going to look foolish.”

I was now fighting back the tears. Put in my place by a ten year old who was more mature than I was.”

“Will you be back to collect us or do we get the bus?” asked Trish.

“I’ll be here.”

“Good,” she said and they all trooped off to school without a by your leave or a kiss. They didn’t even look back at me. I felt wretched and burst into tears, driving away lest someone should see me crying.

I managed to get control of myself and called Simon’s mobile. “I’ll be here tonight,” I said to him.

“Doesn’t matter, I cancelled it.”

“What about the dinner?”

“I told David it’s off.”

“Without any consultation with me?”

“It was my only option, our guests were looking forward to seeing you again, but it appeared you didn’t particularly want to see them, so I cancelled.”

“On what grounds?”

“I told them you weren’t very well. Matt seemed okay about it.”

“Right,” I said unsure of what or how I felt. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“Doubt it, I’ve got loads of work to get through, so I’ll probably stay in town tonight and get through some of it.”

“Okay,” I said quietly, “When will I see you?”

“When I know, I’ll let you know.”

“Fine.” I rang off and felt the tears running again. I managed to stop them told Diane I wasn’t well and drove home. Inside my tummy was churning. I’d felt like telling Simon that I’d had the facts of life explained by a ten year old girl who seemed to have a better perspective on life than I did, did he want to talk to her so she could put him right as well? But I didn’t, instead I tormented myself.

I bumped into David in the kitchen. “You all right, Cathy?”

“No,” I said and brushed past him running up to my bedroom before anyone else saw me only to find Amanda had stripped the bed and was busy remaking it. In the end I ran down to my study and locked the door. I lay down on the sofa and curled up into a foetal position and fell asleep feeling like I never wanted to wake up again. My whole little world was crumbling around me, or so it felt. I no longer controlled anything—if I ever had—and felt like I was drifting away like a piece of flotsam in an ocean.

I was in that huge hall again, the one with the intense light which just seems to be there, shining in through windows on all sides—not something that happens in a normal building. I was walking, as I had before, until I realised that showing some humility was likely to get more results than striding about the place.

I knelt down carefully adjusting the long shift dress I had on so I wouldn’t fall over it when I stood up. At least part of my brain was working. I knelt there for some time looking at the floor and reflecting upon the past twelve or so hours. Neither of us came out of it very well, especially me. Now I had to deal with it, my actions and the aftermath. I wasn’t sure what I was doing here unless my desire to die had been accepted and this was some interim transit camp for migrating souls—nah, I’d be going the other way and probably at a training camp for stokers.

Wretched was the only way I could describe my mood and the odd tear escaped my eyes and dripped onto the floor where they shone like gold in that intense light. So occupied was I with my misery that I didn’t notice a pair of feet poking out from a golden dress until a familiar voice spoke to me.

“You have sought an audience with us, Catherine?”

It was so tempting to look up but I kept up the appearance of humility and stared at the ground. “I need your advice, milady.”

“This is indeed a novelty, on what would you like our advice?”

“You will be aware that both Simon and I acted like six year old last night and this morning. He started the row but I accept my response didn’t help matters and probably made it worse. I feel totally wretched about it all, my children seemed to have more idea about the reality of life than I do. I need to patch things up with Simon because my children need us both as effective parents. This morning my children parented me. I am ashamed, milady.”

“What is you want us to do, Catherine?”

“Tell me how I resolve this situation to protect my children from their parent’s folly.”

“This is an earthly matter, we do not intervene in such things.”

“But please, milady, tell me what to do—how do I apologise to Simon and my children?”

“I think you answered your own question. Whatever you do, do with a clear and open heart—it will guide you.”

I awoke feeling cold and sat up, my eyes sore and gummed up with tears. There was a knocking at the door, when I opened it, David stood there with a bouquet of flowers. For a moment I wondered if Simon had sent them, but when I saw the card it read, ‘Hope you feel better soon, Matt, Judy & Emily.’ That made me feel worse.

“Tea?” was all David said.

“Please.”