The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3042 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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“They’re absolute angels when they’re asleep,” Simon said quietly to me as we drove home from Poole. “Ever been to Brownsea?”

“As in Island?” I replied.

“Duh—of course, is there another?”

“How would I know, I’m only a grammar school girl compared to your private educational establishment, so there could be for all I know.”

“Why turn a perfectly innocent question into a criticism of public schools. It wasn’t my choice to be sent to one.”

I felt myself get hot. I hadn’t intended it as other than a joke, but that seemed completely missed. “I simply wondered if there was some other Brownsea elsewhere that I didn’t know about,” I said defensively.

“No I meant the island, have you been there?”

“Yes, a long time ago.”

“We could go again, let the girls see a red squirrel.”

“Poole harbour in winter is great for spoonbills and avocets.”

“A bit cold for wandering round though.”

“Not if they were dressed for it.”

“What to spend four or five hours waiting for you in a hide?”

“I’ll go on my own then or we’ll go in the summer and they can get pecked to death by peacocks.”

“I can’t believe a bird with such a seemingly large body has such a small head.”

It showed he’d not only seen one but had actually looked at it and taken on board what he’d seen. “Reminds me of a number of people I’ve met.”

“What big body small head?”

I nodded.

“We had a boy in school who seemed to have a head and body out of proportion. His body was real Billy Bunter stuff but his head was tiny.”

“Like microcephaly?”

He paused for a moment obviously translating the term. “Yeah, I suppose so. They used to call him, ‘Pinhead’.”

“Original weren’t they?”

“See, there you go again, knocking the finest education system in the world.”

I snorted and he smirked, it was a joke or as close as he gets to a funny one.

“Was he disabled in some way?”

“I don’t know, he was a few years below me, so apart from insulting him, I’d never have spoken to him enough to find out.”

“So his parents were paying thousands a term to have him insulted—what a wonderful thing the human race is.”

“Well by sending him away at least they didn’t have to listen to it.”

“Would you have done that to our children?”

“No, of course not, I’m surprised you needed to ask—that’s a bit hurtful.”

“Your previous remark about the microcephallic student was a trifle insensitive.”

“I was talking about his parents not him and besides in those days I was a spotty adolescent with as many psychopathic traits as any other spotty yoof. Weren’t you?”

“I don’t think I was but then I was on the receiving end of such aspersions.”

“Why, your head seems the right size for your body.”

“I think you know the reason.”

“Oh back to that, are we?”

“Si, that was a bit uncalled for; you know perfectly well that I had a tough time in school and with my father.”

“Okay, I take it all back.”

He drove in silence for a few miles along the motorway. I distracted myself by watching the traffic, though the light was fading quite rapidly. It never failed to amaze me that the days shorten far more quickly than they lengthen. The equinox had only just passed so we had another three months before they began to draw out again. I wasn’t a lover of long dark nights even if they took away the distraction of outside activities. So already I was pining for the warm summer evenings—I know I’m a wimp and the dormice need some cold weather to keep them in hibernation. I’m not sure I’ll be thinking of them when I’m freezing my arse off doing the shopping.

“We still talking?” said a voice to my right.

“As far as I’m aware we are, why?”

“Have you enjoyed your day out?”

“Yes I have, thank you.”

“I’m glad.”

“Have you—enjoyed your day out?” I asked him back.

“Of course, my wife was happy and my children seemed to enjoy themselves, so what else is there to consider?”

“If you got something out of it too?”

“Why should that matter?”

“Because it matters to me.”

“Why, you had a good day?”

“I’m not such a solipsistic individual that I’m not concerned about the man I love as well, and my children too.”

“We used to call masturbation solipsism.”

“Who’s we?”

“The other kids on my dorm.”

I nearly said, ‘Oh back to public school again are we?’ but held my tongue. “I see, I suppose all sleeping together, they’d know.”

“Yeah, I suppose they would.”

“Who would, Mummy?” asked a sleepy sounding Trish.

“Daddy was just telling me about his schooldays.”

“Oh, was that like Tom Brown?”

I snorted and Simon said, “’Oy, I’m not that bloody old.”

Trish laughed and that woke the others.

“I need a wee,” said Hannah and fortunately we were approaching some services where we all disembarked and went to find a cubicle, except Simon whose bladder must be huge.

Back in the car—I refused to pay outlandish prices for drinks when we were less than half an hour from home and stopped Simon from doing it. He shrugged and looked at the girls as if I were some ogress that had stopped him spoiling them. I am and I was but that’s beside the point...the prices are ridiculous for what you get.

About half an hour later were home and Danielle had only checked her mascara twice—in the last five minutes at least. I bought her a little mirror with a lipstick holder, so the mirror is long and thin but just right for examining your eyes, or your eye makeup. In the vanity mirror of the car, I could see Trish rolling her eyes at her big sister’s actions and Hannah trying to stifle a snigger. Little girls really are awful creatures, don’t know where they got the sugar and spice from, gall and bile might be more accurate.

Eventually we returned home and were interrogated by Livvie and Meems about our day. Seems like they went to feed the ducks and saw loads, and also bathed all her dollies—compared to that, I suppose merely seeing an osprey and walking about five or six miles was somewhat irrelevant.

Danielle, her with the ten coats of mascara per lash, disagreed and described how we’d walked for miles because ‘her’ mother wanted to see this large bird of prey eating a takeway fish supper. (You had to be there). Trish thought it was funny but the others were less than amused. There’s a surprise.

Simon didn’t hear about it until nearly bedtime and sniggered for a few moments then asked, “Is that why he needed two feet to eat it, one to hold the paper open while he scoffed his chips?” The younger element thought it funny Tom and I just looked at each other and sighed. This being a family business is damned hard work.