Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 3419

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The Weekly Dormouse.
(aka Bike, est. 2007)
Part 3419
by Angharad

Copyright© 2024 Angharad

  
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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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After the euphoria of my epiphany at Christmas - see, going to university teaches you big words, however, they don't teach you what they mean - that's in the second part of the course, my life got back to normal very quickly. I was back in my office, Emily was looking after my home and two little ones, while the slightly bigger ones enjoyed chatting with her mother who, as I said before, revelled in the title of 'Gran'. David had a couple of days off and I phoned and asked Danni and co to strip half the beds and wash the bed-linen and for the rest to start taking down the decorations and putting the tree back out into the garden.

Diane and I had completed the books that we needed to deal with the auditors the next day. I knew that they were alright because I caught Simon in a vulnerable and romantic mood. I can see it now, I lay on the bed and asked, "Si could you do something for me?" I was fluttering my eyelids at him and when he replied, 'Anything' I asked him to check my books. His face was a picture but he did them and I rewarded him after - I gave him a mince pie - if you believe that I happen to have a bridge you may want to buy. No, he had his wicked way, which I was well up for and we both enjoyed ourselves for a couple of hours making slow but passionate love and none of the girls said anything when we came down. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop but they said nothing until the next day when their dad had to return to the office as Henry was away for a few days in France, apparently Monica had bought a chateau, like you do. He insisted on seeing it before he allowed her to spend the cash, so that's where he was, moaning about having taken years to get rid of one castle only to find they had another. I don't know what he's moaning about, Simon and I are still stuck with the original one.

For once it wasn't raining and Diane said she wanted something she had seen in the sales so disappeared for a long lunch, so after getting a tuna salad multigrain roll, I decided to take a walk in the park near the university. I had a flask of tea with me and a packet of crisps, plus a mince pie ( a David original) for my dessert. My just desserts ran through my mind and earlier when Diane had asked how I'd got Simon to spend some of his holiday checking my books. I had to chuckle.

I looked about the park and it seemed amazingly devoid of people, which suited me perfectly. I selected a bench and seated myself to enjoy my repast. I had just put my bag beside me, and with a roll in a bag on my lap, I looked up to see a toddler stumbling about the park in front of me. As I opened my roll, preparing to bite into its delicious contents, I scanned the area for a parent. I couldn't see one anywhere. Red lights began to flash in my mind, toddlers don't just slip off to the park, do they? Oh, shit and just as I was about deal with my favourite piscatorial food item. I put it down refolding the bag and stood. I scanned again, there was no pursuing mother. Something was wrong - very wrong. I started running towards the little one, who was now starting to call for her mother.

I caught up with her and asked her where Mummy was, that was about as useful as asking Bramble. The tears came heavier now and she cwtched into my shoulder as I cuddled her into me to try and comfort her and keep her warm. It was relatively mild but children lose disproportionately large amounts of heat, see I told you university was good for ya. I began calling for her mother and trying to remember which direction she had come from and also to grab my bag, it would be bad enough if someone pinched my lunch, but my hand bag. Well, you know what we carry in them.

I was now running down the path towards, I hoped would be her mother. I could see no one. I stopped, turned back to where my tuna roll was waiting and ran back there. Put junior on my lap, cuddled her into me and picked up my phone.

"Hello, police please, it's an emergency. Yes, I understand just get them here fast. Oh yes, I'm professor Cathy Watts, I'm in Victoria Park by the university and I have found a little girl toddler but I can't find her mother. Yes, I'll wait here, please hurry as she's getting a little cold." I informed the child, " Why run about in circles when the experts can do it instead and save my energy." I undid my coat and wrapped it around both of us. "Are you hungry little one?" I asked taking a surreptitious sniff to make sure she didn't leave my coat smelling of 'used toddler'. She seemed clean, at the moment.

We waited, me trying to remember nursery rhymes and singing them to her, trying to stop her feeling anxious. All I needed was a sobbing tot to make my lunch time a disaster. Finally, I heard sirens and a car pulled into the park and I waved to them.

I explained I had found her wandering, looked briefly for her mum then called them. A woman police officer came and sat next to me while her colleague started running in the direction I told him I thought she had come. Moments later there were other sirens and other police cars entered the park and the cops inside began fanning out to search for the mother.

Eventually, the woman cop suggested we go to the central police station. She was still looking at me suspiciously. I felt compelled to try and allay her suspicions. "Look I did find her just wandering. I haven't snatched her or anything, the last thing I need is another child, I have a houseful at home."

"You're not the woman who turns boys into girls are you?" the copper asked of me.

"I'm not a surgeon or a magician so I don't think us ordinary mortals can do that, besides I'm not sure what you are implying." She still viewed me suspiciously as we walked toward the car. I had my roll and flask in a shopping bag but she didn't attempt to take the child from me. I sat in the back seat, wrapped a seat belt around me and held on tight to the little un and hoped we didn't have an accident.

When we got to the police station another police officer tried to take the child but she clung on to me and screamed. I managed to calm her down and we sat at a desk with a more senior officer. I told my story then suggested we get some warm milk for Topsy. Someone came in with a mug of warm milk, I put it down on the table and looked at it and then the child. "Oh we haven't got a feeding bottle, best we could do." No wonder they can't catch criminals they don't have as much sense as the baby I had in my arms.

I requested a towel, and wrapped it around the infant and tried to get some milk in her rather than down her clothes. She gobbled it greedily, she was obviously due a feed. "You seem to know your way round babies," said the inspector or whatever she was.

"I have some of my own so had some practice, but prefer to give them back now, too much like hard work but teens and early twenties are not much different, just slightly more articulate." She looked oddly at me until I explained I worked at the university. If she had smiled I think her face would have cracked.

The youngster fell asleep in my arms and I considered I wasn't going to get my lunch for a while. They asked me my story again and I related what has happened, interrupting it to ask hadn't they found the mother yet?

"You expected us to did you? Where you left her body?"

"Hang on, I only held on to her while I sent for you lot, except you couldn't find pee in a pot. I was trying to stop this one coming to harm until the mother could be found or the authorities involved."

"So you don't want this one then, she's already a girl?"

"I am not sure what you are inferring, but if it doesn't stop, my lawyers will take half your salaries again."

"Who do think you are?"

"I know who I am, it's you and your ilk that concern me; where is the mother or social services. I have a university department to run and because of my concern for this child, I haven't had my lunch yet and if my blood sugar drops I tend to get litigious."

"We've found the mother," she said after the phone rang, "she's in a bad way, she's been attacked and dumped behind a tree. We'll need to examine your clothing for any signs of assault."

"Oh sure, I got fed up and beat her with my tuna roll," I offered sarcastically.

"Is that a confession?"

"Look, I want my lawyer and I warn you that when he has finished you could be selling your house to pay your costs." They allowed me to call Jason, he was at the office and would be with me within the hour. The copper then removed herself and one with even more tinfoil on his epaulettes replaced her. He asked me what happened once again. I told him that this was the last time I would tell them, as I had done so half a dozen times, he told me they needed my coat for forensic tests. I indicated the sleeping toddler and told him he would be responsible if she woke up crying and also to be rather careful with my coat as it cost nearly a thousand pounds and I would sue if it were damaged, beside I hadn't seen her mum, let alone assaulted her.

Finally, Social Services arrived and took the baby and moments later Jason came and asked me what I'd done now. I pointed out that I wasn't a juvenile delinquent, but a senior member of the university faculty and also going to be paying his bill. So he'd better start earning it. We were left alone after that and I finally got my rather soggy tuna salad roll. I described the suspicious nature of the police when I was trying to help them and the child; he began to see why I wasn't my usual cheerful self and started laying down the law including telling them that we would sue if they damaged my coat. I bought that in Harvey Nicks in Kensington.

"My mother used to shop there," he told me, which made me feel tons better, I don't think. I told him I didn't like the ones in Harrods, it was a fib because I hadn't shopped in Harrods as I didn't want to rub shoulders with rich Arabs who are rather poor on manners and very misogynistic. I know that I shouldn't generalise but most I have met were a cross between a sand fly and a camel, their manners came from the camel and being an Old Etonian didn't help much, I mean look at Boris, I rest my case.

Eventually, the police sent me home, but I couldn't get them to drive me back to the university. I told them loudly that I wouldn't be buying any more tickets for the policeman's ball. They protested they didn't hold dances since Covid and I told them this was raffle, but only if they found a copper with one. I also told them I expected them to return my coat in the same condition in which they took it. They did give me a receipt. I was miffed that I had to use a cab to get back to work, and it felt cold without my coat. At least in my car I had my old Barbour waxed coat which was quite warm but only stylish amongst bird watchers or dormouse wrestlers, and let's face it what's the point of being a female aristo if one can't be stylish and flaunt one's wealth? I laughed at myself and shared the joke with Diane who related that I didn't flaunt my wealth except at university council meetings. I chased her out of my office.

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Comments

Reminds me of a joke

Wendy Jean's picture

Cop pulls a woman out over. He asks for name and registration, to which she replies can't I just buy a ticket for the policeman's ball? To which he replied“ policemen don't have any balls.” when he realized what he had said he just turned around got back into his motorcycle and left.

Suspicious police.

I feel sorry for the plods these days. It's damned if they do and damned if they don't. Whenever stuff (s--t) happens, they have to be there instantaneously, solve the problem immediately and catch the criminals virtually in the act whilst keeping back hordes of often antagonistic 'rubbernecks' who always seem to have lots of (usually useless) information to offer.

Then, if or when they do solve a problem, they have to watch the courts hand out ludicrously inadequate sentences because there are not enough holiday camps (oops, sorry; prisons!), to lock the criminals up.

I wonder where you're taking us with this one Ange?

Bev x

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One would think that the police all over the UK (maybe the world

Would know by now that you don't mess with Cathy... and that she is about as law abiding as one can get. And why would they even think that someone would beat the mother, steal the child, and call the police? Weirdness.

They must have a special

sort of policeman where Cathy lives, That is ones without brains, If you had committed the sort of crimes that they wanted to pin on Cathy would you present yourself to the police,Whilst i accept the police have a difficult job and have to be suspicious surely even a very small check into Cathys background would tell them that she was hardly likely to commit those sort of offences .... I would say if it costs them money then its deserved , That is until you realise any fine handed out will ultimately end up being paid by the taxpayer .... In other words us!!!

kirri