Watering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 652 by Angharad

I decided that although there was little chance that Peaches would discover Trish’s little secret, I would put her in a room on her own anyway, because she and Trish would probably talk half the night if I didn’t.

The bedtime story would be told downstairs and after the three girls had changed ready for bed and teeth cleaned. I popped Peaches school dress in the machine and then into the tumble drier, so it would be ready for the morning.

Thankfully with six bedrooms, the house was large enough to take boarders, in fact Tom’s wife had played with the idea that they could do B&B when he retired; sadly it wasn’t to be.

I made up the bed in a guest room we only used normally for storage of clothes, it was somewhere to air things when it was damp outside. I’d obviously tidied it up, and was just finishing the bed making, when Simon came rushing up, “Your programme’s on in ten minutes,” he gasped.

“What?”

“They said owing to technical difficulties they were postponing the scheduled Nature File or whatever they call it, and were showing a new film on dormice–there can’t be too many can there?”

“Oh shit! Tape it will you, I’ve got to get the kids to bed.”

“Let ‘em watch it first, then bed.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay,” I shrugged.

He turned and rushed back downstairs, just then the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hi, Cathy, it’s Erin, your film’s on in ten minutes, they’ve had to reschedule it. I’m a bit angry as they had a nice build up to it featured, now all that’s gone.” I felt happier; it gave less time for the press to feature me as a bigger exhibit than my little furry friends. I knew there’d be fall out, but this way it could be better.

Erin rang off and I went down and switched on the video, Simon was still rounding up the girls. They came in and after drinks of milk, they settled down and my programme started.

I watched the first two minutes and felt incredibly embarrassed, and had to leave the room. How could they suggest I was the thinking man’s crumpet replacement for Sir David Attenborough? I was dreadful.

I busied myself with cleaning up the kitchen and ironing. I did Peaches dress, which had come up beautifully, as had Trish’s blouse and skirt. On the sixth of Simon’s shirts, I felt quite tired, and left the rest in the basket. I had done four of Tom’s as well and a dress of my own–well Simon didn’t wear them, did he?

I heard the music of the programme finish and Simon led the girls out with Tom bringing up the rear. “That was brilliant, babes, it really was.”

I shrugged, I mean he would say that wouldn’t he? “It was vewy good, Mummy, I wiked the bit with the dormice in their beds.”

“It was brill,” said Trish hugging my waist, “my Mummy’s been on the telly,” she sang and hugged me again. I wasn’t so sure it was such a good thing at all.

“I liked it lot’s, Auntie Cathy, the pictures were fab, and you looked very nice too.”

“Thank you, Peaches, you’re very kind. Now everyone, it’s bedtime, so chop chop; Trish, show Peaches her room, please. Meems, in the bathroom and clean your teeth.”

I wandered up the stairs behind the herd of wilde-kids, just in case there were any predatory dormice about. Well you can’t be too careful. Instead of reading them stories, I put a CD player on the landing in which I put a CD of Martin Jarvis reading a Just William story.

There was a bathroom next to Peaches bedroom and I left a small safety light on for her to be able to find it in the night if she needed, I also pointed out which was my bedroom, if she needed me.

I left her to put her own pyjamas on and then supervised her cleaning of teeth, and those of my two, who were already changed into their sleepwear. I tucked them all in and kissed them all goodnight. Then as I went downstairs I started the CD player and assured myself they could all hear it. They could.

Stella was making tea for everyone, “That film was very good, Cathy, you did great justice to Des’s photography.” She had tears in her eyes.

“Yes, Alan was good, but not as good as Des.” We hugged for a moment and she went back to pouring teas.

“Weel, lassie, that was every bit as guid as I expected it to be.” Tom hugged me, “I’m prood o’ ye.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” I kissed him on the cheek.

“Hey, I said it was good first, how come he gets a kiss and I don’t?” Simon complained.

“You’ll get your kiss later, if you're lucky,” I winked.

“Hmmm,” grumbled Simon, “if you’re not too tired.”

I shrugged, he could be right, I was yawning and it was only nine o’clock. Stella brought Puddin’ down for a feed and I ended up doing it, but it was a labour of love, and her bright eyes sparkled as I held her.

“Hello, darling,” I said to her and she gurgled. She took her bottle and I burped her, then changed her nappy. I’d managed to persuade Stella to use the environmentally friendly ones–the terry towelling ones, and had even bought her a dozen of the gold ones. They weren’t gold in colour, but in quality, being thicker than the silver ones.

I nodded off with her sleeping in my arms as we continued watching telly, ensconced in an armchair, and her holding one of my nipples in her fingers, through my bra and top. I woke when Stella lifted her off me and Puddin’ held onto my nipple, it tweaked and for a moment I thought it was Simon.

“Come on, Puddy, let’s get you off to bed,” she cooed at the sleeping infant. “Night everyone,” she called as she went up to bed.

“Okay, babes, let’s go on up,” Simon winked at me.

I yawned by way of reply, then got up and kissed Tom on the cheek and wished him goodnight. Simon took my hand and pulled me up the stairs. My little wash and change, plus tooth brushing took about ten minutes by which time Simon was lying in bed and tapping my side with an expectant grin on his face.

I felt very tired, but decided he’d been quite patient and almost useful–so I let him try to excite me. He did, and the inevitable happened, which we both enjoyed. Instead of becoming comatose as he usually does, he asked me if I’d spoken to Marguerite?

“Marguerite?” I said dabbing a tissue under me.

“Yes, your lady vicar.”

“Oh, that Marguerite?”

“Is there another?” he asked and I had to admit there wasn’t.

“No, I haven’t had time, and I doubt I will tomorrow morning.”

“Today, you mean, it’s nearly one.”

“Oh.” I sighed: here I was now fully awake when I should have been fast asleep, and with him asking about weddings and things, I was likely to stay that way for a bit. I loved him to bits, but at times I wondered why?

I went for a little wash to save soiling the bed and mused in the bathroom whether I should go for the early quick wedding and then a more formal blessing later, or do things just the once on a grander scale. I was pretty sure Marguerite would still marry us, even if we did it somewhere other than her church, although, my recollections of it were quite special. I needed to go and see her again and check it out, she could after all be very busy and fitting us in might be a problem.

I crawled back to bed, Simon was now asleep and I lay there thinking about how tired I would be the next morning as I watched the clock.