Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 514

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Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike). 514.
by Angharad

It looked as if I was going shopping on my own. Mima went and cuddled with Simon, so I went upstairs, dried my hair and dressed for the weather, finally rubbing some moisturiser on my face to try and offset some of the cold wind’s ravages. My skin is still quite good and I intend to keep it that way.

I was wearing, a camisole on top of my usual lingerie, then a polo-neck, a thick skirt with a waist petticoat, some over knee socks and my new boots. With my gloves, scarf and duffel coat, I was ready for nearly anything, weatherwise, except rain, and that wasn’t forecast.

“You wook nice, Mummy,” said a little voice, “I wike your wed coat.” She rushed over and hugged my leg.

“Thank you, young lady. Now you take good care of Simon, and I’ll see you later.”

“Are you goin’ to vuh shops, Mummy?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m going to buy some more food.”

“Wiwl you get me some sweeties?”

“Um, I’ll have to see, I think you eat enough of them already, perhaps I’ll get you some fruit.”

“No, Mummy, Mima want sweeties.”

“I’m afraid, Mima gets what I want, not what she wants.”

“Come on, Meems, I’ll read you a story.” Simon called to her and she turned and trotted back to him.

“I wuv you, Daddy,” she said while looking pointedly at me. I wasn’t going to play her game however, and picking up my bag, I went out to the car.

I did buy her some sweeties, they were reduced in the post Christmas free for all. I also bought her a top and skirt, which together were less than the original price of one item. I thought she’d look nice in them, and wished I could have worn them at her age.

I gave myself a quick pep talk–stop thinking about what is past and can never be, and get on with the present and future–what is and what can be. You can’t influence the past, but you can the present and the future. So give up the regrets and get on with living.

“That’ll be forty seven pounds and thirty two pence, madam.”

“Um, oh yes, sorry, I was miles away.”

“I wish,” said some bloke behind me.

“I think I know why only women are called, ‘Patience’.” I said loudly to the cashier.

“What’s that rhyme?” she said. “Oh yes, Patience is a virtue,”

“Catch it if you can, it’s seldom found in woman…” I added.

“And never in a man,” she said looking behind me.

“Look if you too are going to do a poetry reading, at least let me through first. I have to get to the university to see a professor.”

“Oh which one?”

“Oh some old fart, called Agnew or Agnes or something.”

“Tom Agnew?” I offered.

“Yeah, could be, you know him?”

“I should, he’s my dad.”

His face said, ‘Oh shit,’ his mouth said, “Oops.”

“What are you seeing him for?”

“I have to cover for someone who’s on maternity leave, or making a film, or both.”

“So you’ll be teaching biology?”

“That’s what I do, I suppose your dad does too.”

“Not too often, it’s my job you’re covering.”

“Good gracious, it isn’t, is it?”

“What time is the appointment?”

He looked at his watch, “In an hour and half.”

“So why were you complaining about me in the queue?”

He blushed, “I don’t want to be late, and I’m not at all sure of my way around Portsmouth.”

“Come on, let’s get a cuppa, I’ll lead you to the uni afterwards. Don’t eat anything, he’ll take you to lunch I expect. Do you like curry?”

“Yes, I do.”

“The job is probably yours, then.”

“You’re joking?”

“Okay, I’m joking. Come and have a cuppa.”

We sat down in the cafeteria, and he went and got two cups of tea. I watched over our purchases. “You don’t look very pregnant?”

“I’m not, but I have been making a film, which is being finished at the moment.”

“So why am I covering for you, if you’ve finished?”

“They want me to make another one.”

“What’s the first one on?”

Muscardinus avellanarius,” I smiled at him.

“Oh, dormice, lovely critters.”

“I’m glad you like them, we have a breeding programme at the department, which I still manage.”

“So you’re our local dormouse expert, I presume.”

“I suppose so.” I blushed with embarrassment.

“Who are you making the film for?”

“Natural England and High Street banks.”

“What a combination? Bureaucrats and fat cats.”

“Careful, my future father in law is the chairman and chief exec of the bank.”

“Oops, I seem to be rather good at sticking my size nines in my gob, don’t I? At least where you’re concerned. Which is a pity.”

“Why?”

“Never mind, you’re a bit out of my class, anyway.” He looked away shyly.

“I’m sorry, I’m spoken for.”

“Is that your little girl you’re buying the outfit for?”

“Sort of, I’m currently her foster mother, although I’m in dispute with the social services.”

“Oh that’s my cousin, head of social services.” He said and blushed.

“Is it now?”

“No, I was just trying to impress.” He smiled and I smiled back.

“I’m glad about that, the robots we’ve had come round to us have been a total pain.”

“My cousin is a social worker, but not here, up in Bristol.”

“Brissle,” I said and smiled.

“You know it?”

“I went to Bristol Grammar School.”

“Oh, I only went to a comprehensive in Redlands, but I did do my degree at the Bristol Uni.”

“I was at Sussex, then did my masters here with Tom.”

“Oh nice, how did you do schooling at Bristol, was your mum in Bristol?”

“It’s a long story and rather convoluted, not the subject for casual conversation.”

“Oh, okay. Look do you mind if we go soon, I’d like to sort of compose myself.”

“Sure, follow me.”

He didn’t, he had to rush off to the loos first, which made me like him even more, for his vulnerability. He did eventually follow me out to the cars, his was an old Vauxhall Astra. I loaded up the Mondeo and set off at a sedate pace to the university. I parked up and showed him where he could park for a couple of hours.

While he sat in his car munching his Loperamide, I went in to see Tom and Stella. She was glad to cadge a lift home, her ankles were swelling and her back was aching. She had helped Pippa do some of her paperwork, but had now had enough, or her body had.

Tom came out of his office, as I came back from the labs. “You didn’t tell me you were interviewing for my job.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Gee thanks, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, which of these two spilled the beans? Bearing in mind I can only sack one of them.”

“Neither, I met the guy in Tesco.”

“He goes to Tesco? That disqualifies him to start with.”

“Come off it you old fart, he’s rather nice, very fanciable, and comes from Bristol.”

“Yes I know he does, I just hoped lightning couldn’t strike twice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, just that he won’t desert me for the glamour of films and the lure of the aristocracy.”

“Phew, is that all?”

“What else is there?”

“No, nothing, absolutely nothing, no he’s all boy–nothing to worry about there.”

“Maybe I should stick around a bit longer,” said Stella, looking as if she’d got her second wind.

“Well, don’t point that at him, he’ll run a mile.” I said indicating her broadening belly.

“Bugger, I keep forgetting it.”

“Are you taking him to lunch?” I asked Tom.

“No, why should I?”

“He likes curry.”

“Oh does he now, well I suppose I could make an exception. Pippa book me a table for two, usual place.”

“Come on, Stella, before my ice cream melts.”

“What flavour is it?”

“What did you want?”

“Chocolate chip and Brussell’s sprout, why?”

“If I didn’t know you were pregnant, I would now.”

“Duh,” she patted Puddin’, “bit bloody obvious, isn’t it?”

“From your choice of ice cream, yes.”

“Doh!” she said as we walked towards the car.

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