Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 556

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Wuthering Dormice
(aka Bike)
Part 556
by Angharad
       
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I joined Simon and Erin in the green room, where they were being plied with drinks. I felt like a large something or other to get me over the shock of that news programme. At the same time, I hadn’t eaten for several hours, and a sniff of a barmaid’s apron would have had me legless–no tolerance of alcohol. Come to think of it, barmaids don’t wear aprons, and I certainly wouldn’t want to sniff one–even if they did.

Simon approached and hugged me, “So you’re going to be an award winner.”

“You knew this before, didn’t you?”

“Um,” he blushed, “Sort of…”

“Pig, you could have warned me.”

“Um, I was sworn to secrecy.”

“If I’d known about it, I wouldn’t have come.”

“Come on, Babes, you deserve some recognition for saving that woman.”

“No I don’t, anybody could have done what I did.”

“But they didn’t.”

“No, because there was no one else there.”

“See, it was fate.”

“Rubbish. Hello, Erin, thanks for coming.”

“I’m glad I did, congratulations on the award.”

“I haven’t got it yet, and I might write to the Humane Society and tell them to withdraw my nomination.”

“Whatever for?” she looked aghast.

“Why should I get one?”

“For saving a life.”

“Paramedics and firemen do it every day.”

“So, it’s their job, they are trained to do it. You improvise because it isn’t your job.”

“Everyone should try to help someone in distress.”

“I quite agree, but many of us don’t because we don’t have your presence of mind and fortitude.”

“Eh?”

“Fortitude, it means…”

“I know what it means, I think you’re mistaken, that’s all.”

“Your heart is twenty four carat, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s the same as everyone else’s. I am not special.” I was in the middle of my protest when several people from the news programme came into the room. They all exaggeratedly air kissed each other, and then came over to congratulate me. I stayed polite but felt increasingly out of place. Seemingly, Simon and Erin were having a good time.

I glanced around the room, finally my eyes alighted on Julie Stevens. I went over to her, “I hope you have a ride home arranged for me.”

“Yeah, same chap. He’ll be here at nine.”

“Nine? It’s only half seven now.”

“Yeah, so help yourself to hospitality.”

“I’d like to go home and see to my kids. Do you have his phone number?”

“This gathering is to honour you.”

“I want to go home.”

“Can’t you stay just a little longer, they want to make a couple of speeches and so on. Sir Malcolm has paid for it.”

“No, I’m going now, even if I have to walk home.”

“In those boots?”

“Watch me.” I brushed her aside and stormed through to reception. I handed in my badge, “Can you call me a cab?”

“Miss Watts, there is a car organised for you, why don’t you go back to your party?”

“Ask him to come now, please.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Do you have his number?”

“Um, yes, but…”

“Then either call him, or get me a cab–now.”

The skinny blonde shook in her hot-pants once she understood I was serious and angry. She called the driver who replied he’d be there in twenty minutes.

I asked her if there was somewhere I could buy a sandwich and a cuppa, she gave me back my visitor’s badge and pointed the way to the staff canteen.

I sat there anonymously, having instructed her not to tell anyone where I was. I didn’t want any of this fuss, so maybe marrying Simon wasn’t such a good idea, he seemed to thrive on it.

I ate a tuna salad sandwich made with wholemeal bread, and drank some BBC tea. It tasted better than all the jokes had led me to believe. Fifteen minutes later, I was waiting outside for my car. It was on time and I got in.

“You’re quite a gal, aren’t ya?” commented my driver as he sped away.

“What d’you mean?” I asked, playing dumb.

“I watched the programme while I ate me tea.”

“Which one is that then?”

“Oh come off it, you’re the future Lady Cameron, wonder-woman and general nice guy.”

“I hope the last bit is correct, if the rest isn’t.”

“I thought you were ‘avin’ a party.”

“No, I have two children under five, I want to be back with them.”

“Baby-sitter let you down?”

“No, I’d just rather be at home with my kids than getting paralytic with a bunch of complete strangers.”

“Yeah, right.” He was silent for a while and we entered the motorway. “You’re embarrassed, ain’tcha?”

“About what?”

“The award business.”

“Why should I be?”

“I dunno, but you are, admit it.”

“What if I am?”

“Nuthin’.”

I sat and fretted. I was essentially shy and preferred to be with small numbers of people I knew rather than anonymous masses. The exception was when I was teaching, then I’d happily lecture a couple of hundred. I suppose the latter is role play, whilst the other is being me–and that makes me vulnerable. No wonder Superman, sleeps up in space, I wonder if I can fly, it might be nice.

As the car sped along in the dark, I felt myself yawning and closing my eyes. Next thing, someone was touching my shoulder and calling, “Cathy, you’re home.”

I woke up enough to recognise Tom’s house, and I sleepily thanked my driver and let myself in. The corps de presse had gone, I hoped on a permanent basis.

The house was in darkness save for the hall and stair lights. I went to check on the dog; she lay in her basket and wagged her tail. I let her out in the garden and gave her a dog chew when she came back in. Then I switched the kettle on and slipped quietly upstairs to check the girls.

I stood in the doorway of their bedroom and gazed at my two little angels as they slept. How could anyone want to be anywhere but here? I hoped my unintentional celebrity didn’t cause them troubles. I tried to avoid it, but in jumping from the pan, seemed to always end up in the fire. I kissed them both and tucked them in.

As I turned from the girls’ bedroom I jumped out of my skin–Stella was watching me. “Have a good time?”

“No, it was positively awful.”

She smiled at me, “I did, they behaved impeccably and went to sleep after I read them a story.”

“Oh good, thanks for doing that. I’m making some tea, want some?”

“No thanks, I’ll be running back and forth to the loo if I do.”

“Well you can come and talk to me if you want, the tea isn’t obligatory.”

“I’m off to bed, if you don’t mind–looking after two kids is hard work, you know.” She winked at me and went back into her room and I went down to make my tea.

My phone rang and a slurring Simon asked where I was. I replied, “Home in bed,” and switched off my phone. Ten minutes later, I was there wearing out my remaining brain cell as I tried to finish the Guardian crossword before I fell asleep.

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