Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 679 by Angharad

I suppose all children think their parents are clever, until during their teens when the reverse happens, and they think their parents are so stupid that they don’t know anything. Of course, teenagers know everything, so they must be correct—but until my fortunes inevitably change, I’m going to enjoy my moment of exultation.

Usually, kids think their dads are clever and their mums are beautiful. In my case it seems I’m clever, so I can’t even get that right as far as the stereotypes go, I’m obviously beyond help.

When Simon came home, I decided to try and separate the dynamic duo, so I could talk with Trish. My ruse involved Simon taking Livvie out into the garden to see how well she could ride, possibly even take off the stabiliser wheels—I think he was capable of that, if not, she probably was.

It worked like a dream, I grabbed Trish as soon as Simon had convinced Livvie to go outdoors. “I’d like a quick talk with you, Trish.”

“Have I done something wrong, Mummy?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well, Livvie's playing with Daddy on the bikes, and I’ve been kept indoors.”

“I need to speak with you about Livvie.”

“Oh, you’re not going to make her go are you?” she asked anxiously.

“No, why?”

“Is her horrible father going to make you send her to Scotland?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“So she can stay?”

“For the moment, yes.”

“Oh good, can I go out now?”

“No.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhh, Mummmmmmmmmmmy,” Trish whined.

“Look, we need to talk about your little secret and Livvie.”

Trish blushed and said, “Oh,” and looked away.

“Is there a problem?” I felt quite concerned.

“You aren’t going to be cross are you?”

“I don’t know, it depends upon what you’ve done.”

“I told her about me.”

“You what?” I was shocked, here I was pussyfooting around trying not to give hints and she’s already told the bloody girl.

“You’re cross, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m completely gobsmacked,” I felt totally out-manoeuvred by a five-year-old. She began to cry so I hugged her.

“I’m a bad girl, aren’t I?”

“Are you?” I asked wondering what other revelation might manifest itself.

“Yes, you told me not to tell anyone, and I told Livvie.”

“I’d have preferred you had let me know about it.” She cried some more: “When did you tell her?”

“In Bristol, at your house.”

“I see, what did you tell her?”

“I told her that I was a girl with a funny fanny.”

“You told her what?” How I kept a straight face, I’ll never know.

“I told her I had a sticky outie, rather than an innie, but that when I was older, they could sort it for me.”

“Did you mention you were considered a boy before?”

“Sort of, I told her my mother had always wanted a boy and she wanted me to be one. I told her that you had allowed me to be a girl, because that’s what I am.”

“Indeed you are, sweetheart, I just wish you’d let me know.”

“I thought you’d be cross with me.”

“Why?” I hugged her tightly to me.

“You’ve been ever so grumpy lately.”

“Have I? I’m sorry, sweetheart, but with three of you to look after, life is a bit harder to deal with.”

“Livvie can stay, can’t she?”

“As far as I know, yes. What did she say in response to your telling her?”

“She said it was okay, she knew I was a girl even if I did have boy parts. She said her previous mother said there was someone who’d been on telly who’d been born like that and now she was going to marry a peer. That’s you, isn’t it, Mummy?”

“Yes, I’m afraid Livvie’s mummy wasn’t very nice at times and was planning on blackmailing me.”

“What’s blackmail, Mummy?”

“It’s a crime, where someone has something which can embarrass or hurt someone else. Usually it’s a secret that has been kept for ages, and when the blackmailer gets hold of it, they demand money or favours from their victim.”

“Was Livvie’s mummy blackmailing you, Mummy?”

“She was trying to.”

“That’s horrible, Mummy.”

“Yes, it isn’t very nice. Unfortunately, her husband killed her.”

“Did he mean to?”

“I don’t know, Trish. Do I need to speak with Livvie?”

“Yes please, Mummy.” I hugged her until she stopped crying, then we went out to find Simon and Portsmouth’s answer to Lance Armstrong.

“Watch this, Cathy,” said a sweating Simon as he ran up and down the drive alongside Livvie, who was without stabiliser wheels.

“Gosh, that’s very good, well done, Livvie, well done, Simon. I need to speak with Livvie, and I think it might be a good idea if you were also there, Simon.”

His expression of triumph dropped instantly. “Can I get a drink first?”

“Of course you can.” We walked back to the house together.

“Funeral arrangements?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” I said as we reached the door to the house.

“Oh, what then?”

“Wait and see. Go and get your drink. Better get one for your pupil as well.”

“My wha ... oh, yeah, you want anything?”

“No, I’ll have a cuppa later.”

“That bad, eh?” he went off to the kitchen and I took the two girls into the dining room.

Once we were all settled around the table, I held Trish’s hand, I opened the proceedings. “Livvie, I believe Trish told you a secret about herself while you were up in Bristol?”

“Did she? I can’t remember.”

“Livvie, she has told me she told you, and Trish isn’t given to telling lies. I thought you were the same.”

She frowned as if I was wanting her shoot herself, clearly there was a huge internal struggle going on. “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone—sorry, Trish.” She burst into tears.

“Okay, sweetheart, I understand what’s happened. It’s okay, you can talk about it with us, can’t she, Trish?”

“Yes, Mummy, this is different.” What an understatement?

After she calmed down, she said, “Trish said she had boy bits, instead of girl’s ones. I said it was okay, she was a girl as far as I was concerned and I wouldn’t tell anyone, and now I have.” She cried, and Simon picked her up and hugged her.

“Livvie, it’s important that you keep your promise in the future, except to us. Sometimes we need to know things. You are, however, right. Trish has a problem but she is still a girl, and one day, when she’s old enough, I hope they can sort things for her.”

“I know, Mummy said you were the same, only you’d had yours done. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone—I want you to be my mummy, because you are the nicest lady I know.”

Simon had her sitting on his lap as she revealed this latest bombshell. He nearly dropped her. I felt glad that Trish already knew so at least she wouldn’t be surprised.

“I see,” I began to feel that she could be in a similar position of power to that of her late mother, and I didn’t want to be in line for further blackmail.

Then she changed everything. “I told my old mummy, I didn’t believe her, because you are a real lady, aren’t you, Mummy.”

I didn’t know what to say, then Simon said, “You are absolutely right, young lady. Now how about we have another drink and let Mummy make herself a cuppa.”