Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 698.

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Wuthering Dormice
(aka Bike)
Part 698
by Angharad
  
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Simon took me home, I was getting stiff and sore and covered in bits of sticky tape or butterfly strips. “How d’you know that copper?” I asked him as we drove.

“Masher? He used to be a good prop forward.”

“He’s huge.”

“Yeah, he’s put on a lot of weight, he was down to about eighteen stone when I knew him.”

“Eighteen stone, God, that’s um two hundred…”

“And fifty two pounds.”

“His poor knees must suffer, and he’ll be diabetic if he carries on.”

“Since when did you care, you were arguing with him.”

“I was cross that the police don’t take the risk to cyclists seriously enough.”

“They brought in a twenty mile an hour speed limit didn’t they?”

“In residential areas, but no one observes it.”

“You do, don’t you?”

“Mostly, especially when I have the girls with me.”

“I suppose I’d better collect them tonight.”

“What is the time?” I asked, relying on my bike computer for such things.

“Oops, I need to change the car.” He accelerated his Jaguar and despite my protests, drove like a lunatic to the house where, he practically carried me indoors and dashed off in my Golf, to fetch the girls.

“What happened?” asked Stella making me a cuppa.

“Mummy, Mummy, yous hurted.” Mima threw herself at me like a wraparound cannonball.

I explained the incident to Stella, who looked very upset. “That poor man.”

“What about the woman and her daughter, and more to the point, what about me and my poor bike?”

“You’re like Supergirl, unkillable or whatever it is?”

“Invincible, I think might be the term you’re looking for?”

“That’s the one, invincible Super Cathy.”

“Yeah, but the van could have been carrying kryptonite for all I knew.”

“But your X-ray vision would have detected it…”

“Not if it was lined with lead.”

“I hadn’t thought of that…” Stella paused.

“Mummy,” said Mima sitting on my lap, “wass kwiptite?”

“Kryptonite is a substance that is supposed to be able to poison Superman. Nothing else can hurt him…”

“Except Lois Lane,” quipped Stella.

“Who Wose Wane?”

“His girlfriend.”

“I’d wike to be Superman’s girwfwiend, when I gwow up.”

“He doesn’t actually exist, he’s a character in comics, books and films. He’s not real like you, Meems.”

“Oh bwow, I wike him.”

“Another day dream shattered,” sighed Stella, “you really are cruel to those kids of yours.”

“I suppose it’s better to let them believe in fairytales?”

“Sometimes, let them gently into it.”

“Stel, he’s a fictional character, let’s face it, when did you last see anyone running about the place in blue tights with red knickers over them?”

“In the ‘Fun Run’ the other week, why?”

I shook my head, why has she always got an answer. I mean, it’s hardly normal kit even for a charity run, most people wear tee shirts and shorts, not full on Superman outfits.

I managed to limp upstairs and take a cool shower without disrupting too many sticky things. Meems helped me to dress in shorts and tee shirt and my sandals. The hardest bit was drying myself, then pulling on a bra and panties. Meems did really well for a young un.

I combed my hair and let it dry naturally, it wasn’t a cold day, and once it was half dry I tied it up in a ponytail. The girls arrived with Simon, soon after I got down from the shower. The first thing I saw was a moving bunch of flowers. I know it sounds silly, but the door opened and in walked this bunch of flowers. It was a large bunch and carried by Trish, Livvie bore a small basket of fruit.

Once they saw me, they dumped their respective loads and rushed towards me. “Mummy,” they both yelled and almost jumped on me. “Are you alright?”

If you two don’t kill me–“Yes,” was all I could answer, they were both in tears.

“What’s the matter?” I asked hugging them both.

“Your bike was smashed, Daddy told us you were hurt, too. I thought you might have been smashed as well as your bike, I’m so glad you’re not.” Trish was really upset and held on to me tightly.

“Yes, Daddy said a man was killed and a lady was very ill, we thought he meant you,” Livvie was also sobbing.

“No that’s someone else’s mummy, a little girl who was also hurt in the crash.”

“Can we send her some flowers, Mummy?” asked Trish.

“I hadn’t thought to, but yes, let’s do that, except I don’t know her name.”

“I’ll find out for you,” said Stella and went off to the phone.

Simon picked up the flowers and the fruit, I hugged him as best I could and accepted his gifts. Stella would have to help me put them in some vases, my fingers were swollen and sore.

“What’ya done to your fingers, Mummy?” Trish noticed me wincing.

“I broke two of them, darling. Everyone else was much worse. So I shouldn’t complain.”

“You were an hour ago,” mumbled Simon.

“I was getting over the shock of losing an old friend.”

“Who was that, Mummy,” Trish wasn’t moving far away from me at all.

“My bicycle, my Scott. I was very fond of it.”

“The insurance will pay for a new one. I’ll get our people to sort it out for you.”

“I don’t even know if I can find the receipt now, God knows where it is?”

“Don’t worry, no one argues with our people,” Simon wasn’t joking. “Anyway, you’ve still got the Ruby, so we could go for a ride tomorrow if you want.” With two broken fingers he knew he was safe.

“No, Mummy, don’t go out again tomorrow, I don’t want you to get hurt again.” Livvie was now clinging like Trish.

“Daddy’s only joking, darlings, can you hug me a little less tightly, it hurts a bit.”

The phone rang and I presume Stella answered it. She came in a few minutes later. “That was Tom, he’s bringing in a Chinese take away for Cathy and the girls and curries for the real men.”

“What you and Simon?” I said to Stella, who gave me a look which said if you weren’t already injured, you would be in a couple of minutes.

“Silly Mummy, Auntie Stella isn’t a man–she’s had a baby.” Trish liked to keep gender stuff black and white.

“Nah, we bought that in Tesco on the way back from the hospital, it was the last one, or we’d have got one free as well.”

“Silly Mummy,” said Trish and she flipped me on my injured arm, I squealed a bit and she burst into tears. It was going to be a good evening by the looks of things.

“Daisy Drummond,” said Stella.

“What is?” I asked.

“The little girl in the car, she has multiple fractures of both legs and possible spinal injuries. Her mother’s been airlifted to Southampton–doesn’t look good at all.”

“Oh dear, she drove like a lunatic, why couldn’t she just have waited a moment? Why couldn’t that fool in the van have stopped? It was all so unnecessary.”

“Why were you going so fast?” Stella challenged.

“I was entitled to.”

“Speed limits?”

“Don’t apply to bikes, except on specific bike paths, oh, and Bournemouth esplanade.”

“Bikes aren’t subject to speed limits?”

“Nope, they’re not vehicles. However, they can do you for reckless riding.”

“Let’s wait for the summons then,” said Stella, smirking as she carried away the flowers.

“They’d better not,” I muttered to myself. That would be adding insult to injury.

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