Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 726 by Angharad

Despite my worries about the press, Simon’s presence in the bed seemed to help me sleep. He also read the girls a story when we put them to bed. We chatted with Stella, who seemed to think running up to Scotland was an option.

“Not with all those midges,” was Simon’s comment, before he poured himself another glass of wine.

“That’s only on the moors,” said Stella poo-pooing him.

“Like hell, those little buggers get everywhere, they’re even more pervasive than one of the kids, and they’d get through ten foot thick walls if they wanted something.”

“My Puddin’ wouldn’t, she’s very refained,” Stella did her Miss Jean Brodie impersonation.

“We should be too young to know the context of your parody,” I offered our budding actress.

“We are, but we’ve seen, not the light exactly, more the DVD.”

“For you that’s very good,” Simon congratulated his sister.

“For you, that’s an even rarer event than hen’s teeth,” she shot back.

“You do more bitching than a pack of dogs,” was his response.

“Ha, you’re the bum sniffer…”

“Children, could we please have a ceasefire here?” I intervened, “We have a potential common enemy to deal, with so I think wasting our energy on petty squabbles is pointless.”

“That’s right, take his side,” Stella complained.

“I am not taking sides, but I don’t need this just now. I need support not bickering. I’m sorry, but I think you understand my feelings.”

“Sorrreee,” Stella looked a bit sheepish. “I’m off to bed, as I have my own early morning alarm clock.”

“What’s she on about, she doesn’t know what early mornings are?” grumbled Simon.

“Puddin’, is what she meant.”

“Oh, yeah, okay.”

“I’m going to bed, Si; night night.” I kissed him and went on to bed. To my surprise he appeared a few moments later. “I thought you had a glass of wine to finish?”

“Nah, besides I shouldn’t drink too much with my liver.”

“Your liver–oh, yes, the paracetamol.”

“Well I thought I’d lost you,” he blushed.

“If that had worked, I’d have lost you,” I pointed out to him.

“Yeah, well that’s better than me losing you.”

“Isn’t it something of the same?”

“God no. If I die first, I don’t have to cope with the grief of losing you.” He undressed and went in the bathroom.

It stopped me in my tracks, dying was something other people did, not Simon or me or the rest of the family. Besides, with the blue light stuff, maybe it wasn’t inevitable any more. Yeah, sure. We all have our time, what was it Shakespeare said, ”our exits and our entrances,” or words to that effect.

He came back and we cuddled down together. We only cuddled, I was too tense to do anything else and he simply held me until I fell asleep. Sometimes Simon could be the most wonderful and caring man on the planet, at others he was a total idiot, as the Irish say, ’an eejut’.

I woke up because he’d got out of bed, “Lovely morning,” he said when he noticed me stirring.

“Is it?” I asked, it looked dark and dreary to me.

“I was being facetious,” he replied, “it is foul, with several ‘Fs’ before it.”

“Oh,” I said and turned over away from the window.

“Cathy, it’s eight o’clock, do you want breakfast up here, or are we going down to the dining room?”

“Yeah,” I said and tried desperately to go back to sleep.

“Yeah what?” he asked making me almost jump.

“Yeah thank you,” I said, old conditioning dies hard.

“Thank you? Are you barmy or something?”

“Okay, please then, just shut up, I’m still tired,” I snapped at him.

“Babes, it’s time to get up, it’s after eight o’clock.”

“Why didn’t the alarm go off then?”

“Because you switched it off last night.”

“Did I?” I must be more tired than I thought. I was, I was completely and utterly knackered.

“Want me to take the girls down to breakfast?” He was being very nice, but I was too tired to wonder why?

“’Kay,” I almost yawned at him. That’s all I remember until the three aliens came in and woke me an hour later. I felt even worse, I always do when I sleep on, and I knew this, so why do I do it? Tiredness or stupidity? Let’s say the jury’s still out on that one.

“Me had cornfwakes and owange juice.”

“I had some yoghurt on my Rice Crispies,” I heard Trish’s voice say.

“I had loads of fruit like Mummy does.” Livvie joined the debate. It was no good, they weren’t going to get back in their spaceship and leave, I had to wake up and deal with them.

Simon had brought me up a bowl of fruit and some cereal. I dragged myself out of bed and sat at the small table we had. It struck me as odd, he did most of the drinking, so how come I felt like I had the hangover?

“I feel absolutely great,” he announced, “better than I’ve felt in ages.”

“Maybe Cathy’s blue light rebuilt your liver?” Stella came into the dining area.

“Hey, that could be it?” He seemed to return to his Tigger mode, bouncing all over the place. I think sometimes it used less energy to see him as Eeyore, “the angel has walked among us again. Ouch, that hurt,” he rubbed his arm where my spoon hit him.

After showering, I felt almost up to Neanderthal levels of development, I didn’t know what was wrong with me, I hoped it wasn’t swine flu. “You look all in, girl,” said Stella.

“I feel it, I feel awful.”

“Go back to bed then, we’ll look after the girls.”

“I don’t understand it, I was okay yesterday.”

“Yeah, but big bruv has been stealing your energy all night.”

“But we’ve slept together for the last year and it hasn’t happened before.”

“Ah but that was before you were saving the world.”

“Was it, I don’t think so.”

“Just go back to bed and get some rest.” Stella almost frog-marched me to bed. I undressed and got back between the covers. “See you in a couple of hours.”

I heard her speak, but I was too tired to reply and already half asleep.