The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3048 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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254 dozen episodes for those with a fixation on the number twelve.

The drive home was a blur as I concentrated on the reason I was still on this planet – my children. They might not be mine in the biological sense but they certainly have very close bonds and the little ones will have little or no memory of their original mothers. It still pains me what happened to their natural mothers. I tried not to think about it too much or I’d have been joining them as I nearly did. Instead I tried to focus on the reason I was still here – my children and just how two of them seemed to know I was in trouble and acted enough to pull me back from the vortex.

How had they known? Was it another manifestation of the blue energy? I doubted that they knew any more about it than I did and that was virtually nothing. But today the closeness between us grew even closer and I was glad it had. The bond between mother and daughter is special, even between an adopted mother and daughters.

I arrived at the house and as I was collecting my stuff from the car, Trish and Danielle came running out to hug me. “We were worried about you,” said Trish as she threw herself at me and her arms around me.

“Good to see you home, Mummy,” said Danielle leaving the effusive stuff to Trish, well she is a teenager and they can be very self conscious at the best of times. Once Trish had enabled me to escape her bear hug, Danni did give me a crushing hug too. “The feelings we both got when we thought of you, were very strange and dark.”

“This isn’t Midwich is it?” slipped out of my mouth before I could say anything.

“Where’s that?” asked Trish.

“Oh I was being facetious.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a book written in the nineteen fifties by a chap called John Wyndham.”

“What’s it about?”

“It’s called the Midwich Cuckoos.”

“It’s a book about birds, so that’s okay,” dismissed Trish.

“Well she’s always on about bird books,” agreed Danielle so I let the matter drop. If ever I mention triffids, I must tell them it’s a plant book.

“What’s for dinner?” I asked trying to change the subject.

“Where did you go? We tried to find you.”

“I went to see Marguerite, that’s all oh the man I’m thinking of making some films with.”

“What about?” asked Danielle.

“Sort of recruitment films, we’re short of students studying chemistry and physics.”

“I’ll come and study them with you, Mummy,” offered Trish and in lots of ways I’m sure she’d be quite able to do so, except the age difference with the otherwise youngest students. They’d all be up to ten years older than her, so that could make her feel a bit out of the loop and discourage her from really trying as hard as she could and Trish needs to apply herself, besides in a couple of years or so, she might even be able to get into Oxbridge and as Oxford is officially the best university in the world, that would be good for her even if I wasn’t good enough myself to go there.

“Where’s Julie and Phoebe?” I asked at dinner.

“They were going out straight from work,” advised Jacquie.

“They didn’t tell me,” I complained.

“They are adults,” said Simon.

“Phoebe is only just old enough to drink.” I said feeling she was still too young.

Simon shrugged and Sammi said that girls grew up too quickly these days, which was true in many ways but how was she a expert after being female for just a few years herself.

It was eleven o’clock when a rather tipsy pair of young women came in through the front door, they were practically holding each other up.

“And where have you been?” I said standing with hands on hips.

“We’ve been everywhere, man,” they both said and fell about giggling.

“No seriously,” said Julie before falling about laughing, “We were doing some research about the best pub in Portsmouth, so we done the Marmion, One Eyed Dog and the Jolly Taxpayer, can’t remember no more.” She dissolved into giggles once again and I told her to go to bed before she fell down–and to take a bucket with her.

“Buckets are for wimps,” declared Julie before dashing off to the cloakroom to upchuck her liquid supper. After that she took a bottle of water and a bucket up to bed with her. Phoebe who looked fairly normal said she hadn’t drunk nearly as much as Julie who accepted drinks from everyone, telling them it was her birthday.

“Berth day, more like,” complained Danielle, “She’s like a bloody harbour, let anybody in, silly cow.”

“Is that true?” I asked the assembled throng.

“She um, oh hell, she can be less than discerning at times,” offered Sammi.

“Is this true, Danielle?”

Danni went bright crimson and stuttered a “yesssss.”

“So why wasn’t I informed?”

“It’s a bit complicated.”

“That’s all right, I have all night to hear the reason.”

“It’s like this...” we decamped to my study and she told me what she thought was happening with Julie. It may or may not help in dealing with her the next morning. Whatever happened I wanted her to go to work even though nominally she is the boss as well.

Sammi left me and Danielle came in bearing a cuppa. “Thank you sweetheart.”

“Right now tell me why the outburst at your sister’s behaviour.” We discussed it and Danni told me she’d seen and heard Julie bragging about how many times she’d been laid this year.

“She’s going to catch something nasty if she continues like that,” was Danielle’s comment.

I couldn’t disagree with her however much I spent trying to convince her otherwise. It was an object lesson in futility.

“I’ve been thinking, it may have been my fault that you had to become a girl. If I hadn’t encouraged you, this might not have happened.”

“What? It wasn’t you that done it, it was that silly twat Pia.”

I should have corrected both her grammar and language but after the earlier event felt I had neither the energy or moral high ground enough pull it off. “I still feel guilty, if I hadn’t allowed you to play with makeup and dresses, you might not have been doing it now.”

“Like you really believe that?”

“Well if I did cause it, I’m terribly sorry and if you really want to, I’ll see about funding the necessary surgery to rebuild your penis.”

“Like that’s gonna be a lot of frigging use – look, Mummy, I admit I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to be but let’s face it I’m having a better time as a girl than I ever did as a boy an’ I’ve got two England caps – I‘d never have got those as a boy. So I don’t want to return to being a no hoper when I’ve got loads goin’ on everyday as a girl.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really, so stop beatin’ yourself up and get a life, okay?” she turned and left, “Oh an’ you’re the best mother in Portsmouth, don’t believe me ask the others.”

My children certainly have a way of making things plain.