Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 661.

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Wuthering Dormice
(aka Bike)
Part 661
by Angharad
  
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“Hi, Babes, what can I do you for?”

“I’ve just had a call from Laura.”

“Who’s she?”

“Peaches’ mum.”

“Oh yeah. What did she want, you to collect her offspring again?”

“Not quite, she wants us to have Pea over the weekend.”

“What do you mean by, weekend?”

“From Friday after school to Monday morning, when returned to school,” I sighed.

“She’s got a bloody nerve.”

“I know that, Simon, her daughter as good as told me that the first time.”

“She did? First I’ve heard of it.”

“I did tell you, but you were probably thinking about sex at the time.”

“I think about sex, constantly,” he joked. I knew it was a joke–he only thought about it most of the time.

“Well, there’s a surprise,” I replied with feigned astonishment.

“I thought it would be a revelation to you, didn’t you realise that men think about sex, nearly as often as women think about shopping.”

“Is that food shopping or real shopping?” I joked back.

“I think it could be both, why?”

“Depending upon how much food we have in the house, I could think about shopping more often than I do when buying stuff for the girls or myself. If it’s just the latter, you can’t be that highly sexed.”

“What? You’re always shopping,” he protested.

“Compared to you–yes, compared to many women–no.”

“What even, Stella?”

“Stella is a special case, but before she was ill and a nursing mum, she could shop for England, and I suspect probably did.”

“No wonder the economy is in crisis, some coincidence that it was contemporaneous with Stella’s illness.” He sighed as if it was a profound thought.

“Oh speaking of the Arch Consumer, what was she on about wanting us to do at the same time as the wedding?”

“What wedding?”

“Thee and me, remember?”

“Remember what?”

“You asked me to marry you?”

“Yeah, but that was last week.” I heard him chuckle in the background.

“So am I released from my plight?” I asked.

“Why?”

“Well, I saw James Cracknell on the telly the other night, he looks quite a hunk.”

“I beg your pardon?” he said and I could feel myself blushing, at the same time I knew his blood pressure would be rising, even though he knew I was playing silly games, the same as he was.

“You know, the Olympic Oarsman, he could paddle my canoe any day,” I continued, goading him.

“Catherine Watts, you are practically a member of the aristocracy, please wait until you are before behaving so badly.”

“So it’s allowed then, is it?”

“Shall we say, we all turn a blind eye and cough politely.”

“So James will have to wait a few months then?”

“’Fraid so, if you want to do it properly.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him. Is that what you do?”

“Me? How could you? Remember our motto.”

“What motto?” I asked, unaware of it.

“Honour, Integrity–or the wife will kill me.” He roared with laughter the other end.

“So what was Stella on about?”

“How should I know, I wasn’t there, remember?”

“I know you weren’t there, that’s why I’m talking to you now. We had a whole conversation and I didn’t have a clue what she was on about…”

“Christening,” said a voice as Stella walked past.

“Thanks…doh!” I had betrayed myself, she’d give me hell for while now.

“Doe, a deer a female deer…” sang Simon.

“Oh shut up,” I pouted down the phone.

“What did she say?”

“Christening.”

“Oh yeah, she asked me earlier if I’d be a God-parent or something, to Puddin’.”

“Well it would fit the remnants of the conversation as I recall it.”

“Just sign on the dotted.”

“I’m an agnostic, how can I be a God-parent, whose role, as I recall it, is to make sure the child is brought up as Christian and encouraged to become confirmed.”

“Is it? What’s the problem?”

“I don’t believe in the Big Cheese.

“Ah, that could cause a small difficulty.”

“Which is why I declined the first time. Nothing has changed.”

“No, Stella is a bit one-track in the mind department.”

“So am I.”

“Yeah, bloody stubborn women, and you have the temerity to blame all the world’s problems on men.”

“If you mean, greed and war? Yes, I do.”

“Hang on a mo, missus, you and Stella, is hardly a cooperative is it?”

“Well it’s more that than confrontation, we just agree to disagree.”

“Yeah, like Afghanistan.”

“I don’t have a problem with Afghanistan.” I said moving to higher ground, at least morally.

“Well, I can’t see them allowing you to have the snip and then marry me, for one thing. They’d stone you to death or something.”

“Why?”

“For being different or just for being a woman. Can you imagine walking round like a Guinness bottle in one of those full size veils?”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“So there, see you do spend loads of brain time thinking about shopping.”

“How do you work that out?”

“I could hear your little brain trying to work out if Burberry made burkas.”

“Damn,” I said in mock indignation, “how did you guess?”

“Intuition,” he said and laughed.

“What about Peaches?”

“Yeah, get some if they look edible.”

“Simon, I’ll get you in a minute, what about this poor kid whose mother seems to dump her on neighbours and friends?”

“We can hardly refuse, can we. But only this once.”

“What if she does a runner, like Meem’s mother did?”

“Get a very large jiffy bag…”

“Be serious for a moment, Simon.”

“I am, deadly so. I have a book of stamps, you’re not going to keep her. If you’re getting broody, get a kitten.”

“What! I am not broody and I don’t want anymore children. I love the two we have. It’s enough for me.”

“Say, no, to her then.”

“Um, that might be difficult.”

“Why?”

“She’s walking up the drive with a suitcase.”

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