Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike). 525.
by Angharad

We were back in the kitchen grinning like Cheshire cats. “She actually walked?”

“Yes, Simon, only the length of the sofa, but it’s a start.”

“How important were the shoes?”

“Very, I should think, but what girl could resist them.”

“Did you leave them out purposely?”

“No, I thought I’d put them away, Mima must have pinched them again.”

“Oh well, all’s well that ends well.”

“It’s not over till the fat lady sings,” I said wondering why I’d said it.

“Well, I hate to say it, but Stella’s singing could kill most things. At home we’d get her to sing in the bathroom to kill off any mould on the walls.”

“Simon, you are rotten about your sister.”

“Yeah, so, that’s what they’re for, isn’t it?”

“Maybe when you were eight or nine, it might have been, not twenty eight.”

He pouted–I think he’s been copying me and practising. “You still cwoss wiv me?” he said sounding like a little boy.

“Grow up you silly fool. Come on let’s see what the girls are up to.” We strolled into the lounge where Trish was hobbling around the furniture still in my red shoes. “Oh goodness, you’re walking, Trish.” With that she let go the chair and I just managed to catch her as she toppled. “You silly goose, you could have hurt yourself. You obviously need to practise a bit more in those shoes, don’t you?”

She was crying, “Yes, Mummy, you’re not cross with me?”

“Why should I be? I’m not cross, I am delighted to see you walk. I want you to practice every day, until your legs get nice and strong again.”

“You won’t send me back to the home, will you?”

“I can’t promise anything about that because it isn’t in my control. If they say you can stay longer, we’ll have to see what we can do.”

“Thank you, Mummy,” she blubbed and clung to me like a limpet.

“Why’s Twish cwyin’?” said Mima who’d come to investigate.

“I think she might have banged herself when she fell.”

“Oh, Mummy kiss it betta,” she said and walked over to Simon who picked her up and hugged her. “Is Twish all-wight?”

“I think she is going to be,” said Simon.

“Good,” she said sounding like an adult, “I’m gwad.”

That evening Stella and Tom, who arrived almost simultaneously, were regaled with stories of more miracle cures, and the magic red shoes.

“D’ye think if I wore them they’d make my arthritis better?” asked Tom.

“Probably worse,” said Stella and I nodded my agreement.

After an early dinner, I bathed the kids and changed them for bed. As Mima didn’t know about Trish, I bathed them separately and dressed them in their nightdresses. They were put to bed and told to stay in their own ones. Tom read them a long story during which time they both fell asleep. I checked and they were both sleeping.

The bathroom is directly opposite the bedroom so Trish wouldn’t have far to walk and she could hold onto the walls for support. Hopefully within a day or two, she’d be walking much more strongly.

Simon and I although alone for the first time in weeks, were so tired we fell asleep as soon as we went to bed. I slept right through until I felt a little body getting into bed with me, and assumed it was Mima. I dozed for a while longer and discovered it was Trish.

Oh shit, do I tell her off and have more tears or do I ignore it. I decided I would say something later in a low key way, not make a big issue of it. The problem was Mima, and she wouldn’t take kindly to me stopping her bed hopping.

I lay there for another fifteen minutes or so, feeling the warmth of the little body beside me, wondering if it was the first time she had cwtched with an adult. The problem was, the home would take a dim view of it as would social services. If I told her to say nothing, it would give it too much importance, so instead, I decided to say nothing. It struck me as so stupid that normal, everyday family things can be so misconstrued because of the actions of a small number of nasty people.

I got up and roused the children who had both nodded off to sleep, Mima was cuddled into Simon. Then it was wash and dress time. I looked through Trish’s bag, she didn’t have very much in the way of clothing, and some of it was rather unisex. She did have one skirt so I asked her to wear it and her Mary Janes with knee length white socks and a white and pink striped top.

“Si, can you watch Mima this morning?”

“I suppose so, what are you doing?”

“I want to take Trish to get a few new clothes.”

“Okay, how long will you be?”

“Not sure, couple of hours or so.”

“Yeah, I expect we’ll manage it. Think you can look after me for a couple of hours, Meems?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Okay,” he yelled back to me.

I measured Trish every which way and wrote them down on a piece of paper which I put in my bag. Then after breakfast, and clearing up, and starting a new loaf in the bread machine, we left. We had to take the wheel chair because I knew Trish wouldn’t walk very far without tiring and I certainly couldn’t carry her very far either.

I decided the least I would get her would be some panties, a new dress, a new skirt and top, some camisoles, and a pair of girly trousers or jeans with a suitable top. Then we’d look at a new coat, hers was looking a bit small and grubby. Finally a new nightdress or pyjamas and dressing gown and naturally, a new pair of slippers.

In just over an hour we’d got half the stuff, and she was trying on slippers when she saw a pair of red patent shoes, little pumps with a half inch heel. She was practically drooling over them, so I agreed, but only if she also chose a pair of trainers as well. She did, pink and blue ones. To be fair, they looked okay with the embroidered jeans she chose, and the denim skirt would also look good. I bought her a pack of socks and two pairs of tights. She couldn’t get over the fact that she could choose her own clothes. It hadn’t occurred to me that she’d never done so before. While we were in the shoe shop, I got them to check her MJs and they were a bit small, so I bought her another pair, she would need them for school which would be in a couple of months.

The coat, was a red quilted one with white fur around the hood and down the front. I knew it would get filthy, but what the hell, it was the first one she’d ever chosen for herself. We’d keep the old one for playing in. I got Mima some new slippers and tights, so she’d be happy too. For Simon, I found a Jaguar key ring.

We got home and Stella was reading to Mima, who dashed to see us. Trish walked into the house pushing her chair, although she flopped down on the sofa and fell asleep a little later. After lunch, she had to model all the clothes we’d bought, then she changed into her jeans and new blue top and went to play with Mima. They played with their dolls together like two sisters. I went to make a new cup of tea when Simon came out to the kitchen. “How much did you spend?”

“I’m not entirely sure, about three hundred I think, why?”

“I’ll go halves with you.”

“That would be great, thanks Si, you are so good, and she does need new clothes. What I got today is only half of what Mima has.”

“So she needs some more?”

“Yes,” did I have to spell it out to him, generous yes, quick on the uptake, not often.

“Oh, well I’ll match you then, you’d better get her some more.”

I hugged and kissed him, certainly he was very generous and I loved him in spite of it. I loved him for him, not his kindness, that was a bonus.

“So how was your morning?” I asked him.

“Alright I suppose, Meems and I went down the pub and after a few beers we had a game of darts and came home.”

“Only one game of darts?”

“Yeah, thought we’d better get back for lunch.”

“Did you win?”

“Nah, but she cheated, she stood well in front of the oche*.”

“Well she is a good bit smaller than you.”

“When I was throwing?”

“Ah that’s a bit different.” I sighed, “I see your ability to fantasise is undiminished.”

“It’s true, ask Mima how many pints she downed, it was four I think.”

“Simon, I could almost bath her in half a gallon.”

“Oh, um, maybe it was only three then.”

“Something else Trish will need.”

“What?”

“A pram or pushchair for her dollies.”

“Is that all?”

“Is that all, have you seen the price of the decent ones?”

“Can’t she share Mima’s?”

“No, I want her walking, to exercise those legs. So you look after her this afternoon and I’ll take Mima with me to choose one for Trish.”

He groaned, but that’s what we did. We chose her a lovely pram, and they each got a new outfit for their dolls. Then we came home. Trish was in tears, when she saw the pram.

“It’s for me, not Mima?”

“Yes, it’s a present from Mima, seeing as we didn’t get you one for Christmas.”

“It’s so lovely,” she choked up and had to come to me for a hug before she could calm down. I was nearly as choked and Stella had to leave the room. Even Simon was looking watery eyed.

“And it’s for me, it’s mine, I mean.”

“Trish, yes, you own it, it is yours forever, to do with as you wish. I’m sure Mima hopes you’ll share it with her now and again, but essentially, it is entirely yours.”

She looked at me, limped over to the pram, pushed it back to me, and hugged me. “I love you, will you be my mummy forever?” At which the dam burst and I wept all over her.

*******
* Oche (pronounced ockey) = the line from behind which they throw darts at the board.