Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 778 by Angharad

After lunch I went to get the girls from school, taking Meems with me. We stopped and I got them an ice cream on the way back. The two girls were excited because it would soon be half term. To my mind they’d only been back in school a very short time, but when I thought about it, they had started later than everyone else but according to their teachers, had caught up with the rest of the class. They were two very bright cookies.

I decided I wanted the two older girls to read a whole book over half term: not a particularly challenging task as they both read well above their ages. I wanted to keep the momentum progressing, however, when I asked for suitable titles from the teachers they were of the opinion that I was pushing the girls too hard.

I decided to ignore their counsel – wise or otherwise – and press ahead with finding them a suitable book each. Then I thought it might be better if they worked together on reading the book – helping each other to understand it, and knowing Meems, she’d be interested too. For this to work it would really mean I’d have to be involved too, so my housework would just have to wait while I supervised the initial stages, after which I could see how it went.

I decided to get them to read, The Wind in the Willows, a story they’d have the outline of from my reading bits to them, and seeing the film on telly. The language would be a little more challenging than modern prose being a little dated, but that would add to their learning opportunity. By the time we were home, I’d decided what and how much they’d read – the day wasn’t completely wasted.

Simon made a huge fuss of the kids and they of him. It was I who got the drinks but Simon who got the attention – bloody typical. Then they went off to change and do what homework they’d been set while I got the dinner.

Tonight it was pork chops which I did in an apple gravy, with cream and white wine. I cooked jacket potatoes and sliced green beans and mushrooms to go with it. Well, I’m not sure how much anyone enjoyed the meal save it disappearing off the plates at quite a lick.

Stella did mention when I was loading the dishwasher that she’d enjoyed it, but no one else said anything. Sometimes being a wife and mother must be very frustrating – and I’m only rehearsing the role at the present.

At bedtime, Tom volunteered to read the bedtime story, a contemporary one which he’d found in the library. They seemed to enjoy it, and I was pleased he’d had the gumption to do more than look on the children’s bookshelf in the house – which was all Simon usually did.

I felt quite tired and after a cuppa and chat with Tom and Stella, went up to bed. Simon had disappeared into the study to deal with some query from the bank, so at nine o clock, I went up to bed by myself.

I always used to smile at people who crawled off to bed so early, but it was clear to me, that if one is tired, there is absolutely no place like bed. I zonked soon after getting between the sheets I’d changed that morning. I was vaguely aware of Simon climbing into bed but I had no idea of the time. I felt his arm around me and I slipped back into a deeper slumber.

I was passing through a valley – it was like something out of a horror film – all mist and large boulders everywhere – giving the nasties places to hide. I was armed with a bow and arrows, but only had three arrows left. I felt like an elf from Lord of the Rings. Each time we passed a large boulder, I was on alert and pointed my bow at it. The problem was that when a large nasty appeared behind me, I loosed my arrow only to waste it, and I also suspect that I did something wet in my knickers.

How did I know it was behind me? I could hear its roaring snorting noise and then it touched me and I was sure I left a fluid deposit in my panties.

I struggled out of bed and into the bathroom, walking into the door post on the way into the bathroom as I was still half asleep until a moment after the impact – then I was wide awake very rapidly and very sore.

Much to my relief, my knickers were still dry although the suggestion in the dream was very real. I crept back to bed and snuggled in against Simon who seemed unaware I’d even left let alone returned. I’m almost sure he could sleep on a clothes line, whereas I needed comfort and quietude. I seemed much less relaxed than he was and I wasn’t sure if I’d always been a light sleeper or whether it was something I’d developed since having the children with us – they certainly didn’t help in alleviating it.

I certainly didn’t want to relive the dream I’d been having but contrary to my desires that was exactly what happened. I was back to the boulders and mists.

I was now down to my last two arrows; what I needed was some sort of sword or large dagger to protect myself. Unfortunately, I had neither until I came across a dead warrior – probably one of ours – how did I know that? I didn’t. The sword was smaller than I’d have expected to see but it was big enough for me to wield, at least in regard to weight and my strength.

I waited for the ogress to come closer and lashed out with all my strength hitting her in the face.

I heard Simon yell and fall out of bed. He had a black eye, which he couldn’t explain nor could I, neither could he understand how he fell out of bed, but I suspect he must have bashed his face as he fell. I certainly can’t think of anything else that could have caused it.