Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part:330

"Sleeping Beauty, where's Prince Charming?" Tom poked his head around my bedroom door.

"Erm," I yawned, "Erm, what?" I was always at my best when woken up.

"Where is Simon?"

"I dunno, why?" I yawned to emphasise the point.

"Henry is on the phone."

"What! Nothing up with Stella, is there?" Given the appropriate stimulus, my brain could sometimes fire up.

"I don't know, he just asked to speak to Simon."

"I'll come and speak to him."

"Here," Tom shoved the cordless phone in my hand, "save yourself a walk, I'll put the kettle on." He shut the door and I pushed the talk button on the handset.

"Hello, Henry, it's, Cathy."

"Hello, sweetheart, can you put my idiot son on?"

"I'm afraid I can't, I don't know where he is. We had a bit of a misunderstanding this morning and I haven't seen him for a few hours, his car has gone too."

"Oh, okay, sweetheart, I'll try his mobile."

"If you contact him, could you ask him to call me?"

"Of course I will," he rang off and I sat in the bed wondering what to do next. Tom called from downstairs that the kettle had boiled, so I got up and pulled on my slippers, my trousers and top were all creased, but that was the least of my worries.

I went down and made some tea, I won't let Tom make it, as primarily a coffee drinker, he cannot make tea. Mind you, he thinks the same about my coffee. Whilst the tea was standing, the phone rang and he answered it. I quickly poured my tea into a bone china mug with milk already in it.

"She's here Simon," he said passing me the phone.

"Hello?" I offered, I'm always original.

"Hello Cathy, Dad asked me to call you."

Tom had collected his coffee and made himself scarce. I loved his discretion, he was such a gentleman.

"Erm, yes, I asked him to ask you."

"Yeah, I knew that much already."

"I wanted to apologise for this morning."

"Okay, and that's supposed to make it alright, is it?"

"No because that takes two, I've apologised, maybe you could do the same..." I heard the phone click off. Damn! I felt like throwing the device on the floor, but what would that have gained, except the cost of a new one and Tom's ire.

I put it back on its charger, makes it sound like a knight in armour. I could do with one to find Simon and slap him one. I fantasised two of them fighting over me. Then reality cut in, I didn't want anyone fighting about anything, especially me. I wanted my Simon back, so we could sort it out. He sounded angry with me. Had I cocked up big time?

Where could he be? I worried all afternoon and most of the evening. It certainly didn't look as if he was coming home. He could be anywhere, the hotel in Southsea, in London, anywhere; for all I knew he could even be back at his old house. That idea grew on me and found myself wanting to check it out.

I told Tom I would be out for an hour or so. We'd eaten, well he'd eaten, I wasn't hungry, so he should be fine with that. If Simon called, I asked him to tell him I loved him and for him to come home tonight.

I jumped in the car and steamed off to the cottage. As I drove up the drive, I could see Simon's car parked in front of the garage. There was Nissan Micra next to it. I parked mine up and walked towards the cars.

The Nissan looked like a girl's car, it was pink to start with, and full of soft toys on the back parcel shelf. My stomach did a somersault. I checked my keys, I had a door key which should open the door, if it wasn't locked from inside or on the chain. I walked up to the door and turned and walked away again.

I did the same thing, three more times, I didn't want to do this, but I had to know. My hand was shaking so much, I had to steady it with the other. The key slipped into the lock almost silently. I turned it and the door opened. I could hear music, Simon's voice and that of an unknown female. My stomach flipped again and I felt really sick.

The female voice laughed loudly and my anger began to fizz. I slammed the door shut and heard confused noises, eventually Simon appeared from a doorway to the lounge.

"Cathy? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question, and with whom?" I snarled at him.

"What do you mean?"

"You have a woman here, who? Where is she, putting her clothes back on?"
I pushed past him and into the room. I stopped, rooted to the spot, "Monica!"

"Hello, Cathy, this is a nice surprise."

"What's going on?" I asked glancing from Simon to his step mother and back again.

"Nothing is going on, Monica needed somewhere to sort out Dad's birthday present, where he wouldn't find her."

"You could have done that at Tom's."

"He'd have looked there, he phoned you there."

"He was looking for you, not me," I threw back at him.

"No, he was looking for Monica and I hope I threw him off the trail."

"So why couldn't you be honest with me?"

"Why don't you two lovebirds sort this out, while I pop down the pub," Monica said as she slipped past me.

"What is all this bullshit about, you know I don't believe a word of it, so what the bloody hell is going on?"

"Monica has left my father."

"What?"

"They had a mega-fight and she stormed off without her purse and any clothes. I could hardly not help her, could I?"

"You shouldn't take sides," I cautioned, our own fight temporarily forgotten.

"I'm not, I'm trying to get them back together."

"So why couldn't you tell me?"

"I didn't have time."

"You've had all day."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't know if I believe you, Simon." I foolishly said what was in my heart.

"Well tough shit!"

"If that's your attitude, I'm going home."

"Don't tell Henry about this."

"Talk to your family? Huh, with the exception of Stella, I don't care if I never see any of your bloody lot, ever again!" I stormed out of the house got in the car, slammed the door and drove off. I stopped half a mile down the road and burst into tears. This time, it looked as if it was over.