Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 768.

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Wuthering Dormice
(aka Bike)
Part 768
by Angharad
  
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I was mulling things over when Simon came by. “What’s the matter, Babes?”

“I’m not sure. Someone in Trish’s class knows she’s seeing a psychiatrist.”

“How do you know?”

“Livvie told me.”

“Oh, what do we do about it?”

“I don’t know. The last thing I want to do is make things worse.”

“That goes without saying, do we know who it is?”

“Not yet, but I will.”

“How?”

“I’ll speak to Sister Maria, the headmistress.”

“Is she going to be able to stop it?”

“I don’t know, but she needs to know.”

“Okay, Babes, I’ll leave it with you. I have to go into the office tomorrow, otherwise I’d come with you.”

“Okay, sweetie, I’ll see what the school has to say about it. I just can’t understand how they know? Surely the school wouldn’t tell them, and I know Livvie wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“So, it’s someone at the hospital or the school.”

“Yes, but surely if that was the case, they’d know about her little anomaly wouldn’t they?

“Dunno, maybe?”

“And anyone from either the school or the hospital would be aware that disclosure of confidential information is a criminal offence.”

“A bit like banks?”

“I suppose it is, Si, only it tends to be financial information that’s protected there.”

“We hold all sorts of stuff on our clients, so a change of identity such as yours could also turn up.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“IDs are important, they can enable thieves and fraudsters to access bank accounts.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean. I wonder if someone was passing through who recognised her or me, at the hospital I mean.”

“What like a patient themselves?”

“Or visiting someone? The children’s unit has a suite of rooms which are accessed by different disciplines on different days, or by different consultants except two – Dr Rose, who is director of the unit and Dr Henschelwood, who is his deputy.”

“But wouldn’t you have seen whoever saw you?”

“Not necessarily, they might have walked by as we were going in or leaving, in which case my attention wouldn’t have picked up on them; besides, what if they know us but we don’t know them?”

“What from your television work?”

“Could be anything, Si: they keep calling me Lady Cameron to start with.”

“Ah, that could be it then, you’re seen as a member of a notorious banking family, which since the credit crunch is viewed as the only legal, organised crime.”

“That’s an interesting way to see things, Simon. Does that mean Henry is the local equivalent of the Godfather?”

“Actually he’s godfather to one or two cousin’s kids, so it could be.”

“Like you’ll be to Puddin’?”

“So will you.”

“Si, I hate to tell you, but I’d fail the physical as a godfather, no matter how emancipated women become, I think I’d pass on that one.”

“You knew what I meant – goodness, you can be so literal at times, Cathy.”

“Only sometimes?” I pouted and he groaned.

When I put the girls to bed that night, I asked Trish if she’d caught up on all her schoolwork. She was very vague which is unusual for her, she is usually as precise as a scalpel.

“Are you looking forward to being back in school?”

“S’alright.”

“That doesn’t sound like you, you’re usually raring to go.”

“I’m alright.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

“I’m okay, Mummy.”

“If you weren’t, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Promise and cross your heart?”

“Promise.” This sounded so half-hearted and so unlike her I was becoming upset.

“And cross your heart?”

“And – oh Mummy, I can’t promise you.” She started to cry, Livvie and Mima began to get restless.”

I picked up Trish and called Simon up to read the girls a story. Which he did, despite the fact he was watching the football on telly. I carried Trish off to our bedroom. I laid her on our bed and cuddled her. “Right, will you please tell me what’s happening?”

“Nothing, Mummy.”

“Trish, I didn’t come down in the last shower of rain, I know when you’re holding back on me. Now I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t want to, Mummy.”

“Trish, I thought we had an understanding, that we’d all stand by each other whatever the problem. In order for that to be the case, I need to know what that problem is.”

“It’s nothing, Mummy.” She began to cry.

“If it’s nothing why are you crying?” I hugged her, “You silly sausage, I can help, but you must trust me.”

“I do, Mummy,” she sniffed.

“You don’t, Trish, or you’d tell me.”

“I can’t, she’ll get me.”

“Who? Who will get you?”

“Petunia.”

“Browne-Coward?”

“Yes,” she sobbed.

“She’s been bullying you again?”

“Yes, teasing me.”

“Why?”

“Because they don’t like us. Her mummy is jealous of mine, because you’re prettier than her and younger and you’re a lady or will be.”

“How is she teasing you?”

“She knows I see a shrink.”

“How does she know?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, sweetheart, leave it with me. You go back to school but ignore her.”

“I can’t, she’ll say I’m mad or something.”

“If she does, I’ll get mad and she’ll wish she’d kept her dainty great cakehole shut.” Trish actually sniggered at my description of Petunia. “You’re prettier than Petunia.”

“Am I, Mummy?”

“Very much, my darling girl.”

“I love you, Mummy.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Oh, she doesn’t know why you see Dr Henschelwood, does she?”

“She hasn’t said and I’m sure she would if she knew.”

“So am I. Okay, sweetheart, try not to get upset – I’ll sort it out. I suspect even if her mother knew about this, she wouldn’t let her tease you with it.”

“Her mother’s horrible, too.”

“I don’t think she’d allow that, it’s below the belt. I could be wrong, but if she doesn’t stop it, she’s going to find life very uncomfortable very quickly.”

“Are you going to get her, Mummy?”

“No, I’m going to stop her teasing you. If she wants to make something of it, she’ll regret it. I don’t think I need to say anything else, do I?”

“No, Mummy – please get her and make her stop.”

“I’ll make her stop, that I promise. Now, back to bed with you and rest assured, it will stop and quickly.”

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This story is 1148 words long.