The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2884 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 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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I watched Hannah at breakfast, she seemed a little quieter and preoccupied than she usually is. Compared to Trish and Livvie, I suppose most other girls are, those two are always talking, frequently arguing but never spitefully. Okay, the odd hair gets pulled or we have an hour of sulking but most of them seem to get on as well as natural siblings and better than some.

I remember Dad saying about his sister, my Auntie Doreen, who was a pain in the arse from the moment she was born until he died, she has similarly been a nuisance to me. No matter how often I try to tell her who and what I am, she chooses to forget and call me Charlie. I don’t know why because I think I only saw her about a dozen times as a kid so she’s seen me half as often as a woman.

She was always after anything Dad had as a kid and she lie and cheat to get it, accusing him of hitting her or taking her stuff and so on. Apparently, one day they each had a glass of pop. She wolfed hers down and then claimed that the empty glass was his. Realising that she would be believed over him, he said, “You want this?” and when she nodded and smirked he threw it all over her and walked away.

Seeing this in my mind’s eye made me smile broadly. I try to think of it whenever Auntie Do is mentioned, it sort of almost makes he seem tolerable dripping wet with lemonade.

Hannah went back upstairs to get something and I managed to follow her while Trish and Livvie screeched at each other in the kitchen. “Is everything all right, sweetie?” I asked Hannah.

“Yeah, just a bit tired.”

“Sure there’s nothing worrying you?”

“No,” she said avoiding eye contact.

“Nothing you need help with?”

“No why?”

“Because you were crying in your sleep last night.”

“I wasn’t was I?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, sweetheart. You mentioned your mother’s name.”

“Oh did I?”

“She hasn’t been around has she?”

She paused and then burst into tears. I immediately hugged her and told her to tell me about it. It took a couple of minutes to have her calm down, then she told me she’d had a text from her saying not to get too comfortable as she wanted her back.

“Oh. What did you feel about that?”

“Why can’t she leave me alone?”

I shrugged, I could hardly say, ‘Because she’s your mother,’ could I?

“She’s a bloody bastard. I’m happy here with you as my mummy and the others my sisters. I love you all and daddy and Gramps. I’m doing okay in school and making friends. Why has she got to spoil it? She’s a bloody bastard and I hate her.”

“Would you like me to try and adopt you so she can’t take you back?”

“Oh yes, Mummy, I want to be Hannah Cameron.”

“I can’t promise that it will work but I shall do my best. I want you to speak with Dr Stephanie.”

“Why, I’m not sick?”

“Because it’s upsetting you and she would be a professional who can explain why that’s happening to a judge.”

“If you think it will help.”

“She also might be able to help you feel better.”

“If I could get away from that stupid woman I’d be happier.”

“Well, I shall see what I can do, but I have to be sure it’s what you really want.”

“It is, Mummy,” she held tightly on to me, “I want to be your daughter properly, the same as the others.”

“Don’t tell anyone else about this, okay, especially, Ingrid. If she gets wind of it, she try to take you away, so let this be our little secret for now.”

“What about the others?”

“The girls, you mean?” She nodded. “They think of you as their sister anyway, so it won’t make any difference to them. But keep it quiet for now and I’ll speak to some people to try and make it happen.”

“Thank you, Mummy. I do want to stay here forever.”

“Well we’ll have to see about forever, but as long as you wish to be here—I’ll do my best to support you.” We hugged and she wiped her eyes with a cold flannel and we went down.

“You been cwyin’, Han?” asked Meems, who put her arm round her.

“Yeah, bashed my finger—it’s okay now.”

“Oh good, I don’t wike to see you cwy.”

Once at work, I called Stephanie and asked her to see Hannah, she agreed to come round for dinner tonight. I then called Rushton Henstridge to make an appointment to see him. We agreed to meet for lunch.

I did another session on ecological principles to the first years, if our two missing members of staff don’t return soon, I’m going to have to get in some temporary staff, I can’t keep on carrying them, especially as I doubt there’s much wrong with them. Then it was off to meet Mr Henstridge.

We met at a small place in Gosport arriving almost simultaneously. I’d arranged a very private table and once we’d ordered, we could talk quietly with little fear of being overheard. I explained the situation to him and he shook his head.

“We’ll have to demonstrate that first, Hannah wants this to happen and that she does not wish to return to her birth mother, second, we have to try and demonstrate the mother is unfit for the job and that Hannah would be happier and healthier if she stays with you.”

“She may well bring up my past...”

“Lady Cameron, I really don’t think that is an issue any longer and as you demonstrate you are a capable mother to several children and young adults, hold down a very demanding job, have a directorship with your family’s bank and still find time to make excellent films, all as a successful woman.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’m sure I am. If you’re worried we could employ an investigator to have some material in reserve but I suspect just the fact that you are caring for this child as more of a mother than the woman who gave birth to her and that the child wishes to remain with you is probably all we’ll need to prove.”

“Don’t expect her to go quietly.”

“I suspect if it gets spun out your resources will outlast any she has.”

“She could make a lot of noise and embarrass the children.”

“If she does we’ll retaliate and accuse her of common prostitution—does she have any convictions?”

“I don’t know. Am I doing the right thing?”

“Only you can answer that but if it helps I think your reasons for doing it are admirable. You are trying to protect a vulnerable young lady in the best way possible.”

“So you’ll start the process then?”

“As soon as I get back to the office.” We shook hands and I got the bill. We only met for lunch because he was full all day and I enticed him to meet me for a meal. He only had a lasagne and I had my usual tuna jacket. At least I was doing something and not waiting passively for Ingrid to attack. I was building defences from which I could counterattack if necessary.

I made my way back to the office and was met by Diane with a cuppa, “Dead on time,” she said handing me the mug of tea and a piece of paper with a phone number on it.

“What’s this?”

“It’s Mr Archibald, could you call him?”

“What for?”

“He didn’t say.”