Wooden Dogtooth (aka Bike) Part 637 by Angharad

“So where were you really?” asked Tom as the girls tucked into their cake.

We’d baked and iced the cake and even sung happy birthday to Trish, who got to blow out the candles. It was to make up for the fact that she’d missed out on her birthday and despite the traumas of those few days, both girls seemed to handle it rather well. It was me who woke up seeing someone covered in flames walking towards them.

“I had an unexpected meeting with Olga,” I said, shivering a little at the recollection.

“What d’ye mean?”

“She sneaked up behind me and invited me to drive us out to some car park on the downs.”

“And ye went, jes’ like that?”

“She was holding a gun on me, the whole time.”

“Ah, that makes more sense.”

“She told me the feud was over.”

“Did ye believe her?”

“I’m not sure. It sounded genuine, but who knows.”

“Hae ye tell’t the polis?”

“No point, she’s long gone and they did suggest we kept watch. They’d only say, I told you so.”

“They mebbe richt there.”

“Anyway, she seemed to be suggesting that we were honourable opponents or something. I wasn’t quite sure.”

“Well ye’re that alricht. Why couldn’t she hae tell’t ye that o’er a cup o tea.”

“Because if she’d arranged that, I’d have called the police. We have others to consider and she had made threats the last time we saw her. Despite that I hope she goes home and rebuilds her life. I bear her no malice.”

“She might hae kill’t yer bairns.”

“I could have killed her, so could Henry or you, for that matter.”

“Nah, nay me, I couldnae kill a fly. I’m a scientist not action man.”

“I’m a scientist too, Daddy,” I protested.

“Oh yes, so y’are.” He winked at me and I laughed because the alternative would have been to thump him and I abhor violence–remember?

He agreed to put the wains to bed so I could visit Simon, and I hoped, Stella, too. Driving was okay now, the shoulder had eased again, helped by painkillers.

When I got to Simon’s room, he wasn’t there. I enquired where he was and the ward sister said he’d been discharged earlier that afternoon. My stomach flipped over–had Olga’s visit been to soften us up for a quick attack?

I called his mobile, but his phone seemed to be switched off. My anxiety index went off the scale, and I literally ran to Stella’s ward. She wasn’t there either. Jesus–what the hell is going on here?

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m looking for Stella Cameron and her baby.”

“She was discharged with the baby, an hour or so ago.”

“What, on a Sunday? And with no provision at home?”

“She said there was, that her sister in law would help her look after the baby.”

“That’s me. I’m her sister in law.”

“Oh dear. I’m not sure what to say.”

“She didn’t leave with any strangers, did she?”

“Only some man who said he was her brother.”

“What the f*&# is going on?” I hissed.

“I beg your pardon,” said the nurse blushing.

Just then my mobile rang–“Hi, Babes, where are you?”

“Where am I? Simon Cameron, you are going to need a hospital by the time I’ve finished with you…”

I steamed home, building up to committing actual bodily harm. I screeched into the driveway and slammed the car door and ran into the house, bursting into the hallway and ready to shout and yell and commit mayhem, when Simon put his finger to his lips–“You’ll wake the baby.”

With that, Stella appeared holding little Desi, who was asleep in her arms. “Want a little hold?” she said offering me the baby. In situations like this one has to prioritise–do I kill Simon, or hold the baby first? It’s a no-brainer, hold the baby, kill Simon later.

“Go to your Auntie Cathy,” said Stella as she handed me the baby, who flickered her eyes open and yawned, then snuggled down to sleep in my arms as I rocked her gently.

“Where have you been, the nurse said you were discharged an hour ago?” I said quietly but with irritation to Simon.

“Blame those two,” he nodded at Stella and Desi. "I went to see her and they said she could come home too, with the baby. Of course, typical bloody woman, she wasn’t ready was she.”

“Hoi, I was ready, they couldn’t find the baby’s spare clothes.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Blame it on the innocent and defenceless,” he spat back. It was easy to see they were brother and sister, although I preferred the days when she put his underpants in the freezer, and shouted less.

“Hush,” I said, as Puddin’ whimpered but went back to sleep. “You could have phoned.”

“If my battery hadn’t died, yes I could, an’ she’s lost her phone.”

“It was nicked when I was a bit out of my head, alright?”

“Can we finish this discussion when the baby is put down to sleep? Where is the baby going to sleep?”

“Ah, um, Tom thought he had a doll’s crib thing in his attic.”

“Oh, I know she’s small, but a doll’s crib? Really!”

“There’s always the dog’s basket,” suggested Simon, and Stella saved me the problem of hitting him, only I’d have done it harder.

“It’s nae there,” said Tom, “but I foond this–oh, Cathy, ye’re hame?” He held up a large basket. “I cannae remember whit for we had it, but whit d’ye think?”

“For one night, it’s fine,” I suggested and Stella agreed.

“I still think the dog’s bed would be better,” said Simon, dancing out of the way of Stella’s swipe, but near enough for me to kick him up the bum. “Ouch,” he said rubbing it, I smiled sweetly at him.

We cleaned up the basket and lined it with a blanket and soft sheet before I laid the baby in it. “Where’s she going to sleep?” I said meaning where would we put the basket for the night.

“In the children’s room?” said Stella. The look of shock on my face, made her smile, “Only joking, she’s my baby, so I suppose I get her.”

I sighed with relief, Stella seemed so much better; I just hoped it would last for a long time, preferably, many years.

After a small celebration, neither Stella nor Simon were able to drink alcohol, which made me smirk more than a little, as Tom and I shared a bottle of wine, we went up to bed. Stella and I had made up her bed, and put the baby on the floor alongside it. She had a bottle of formula milk ready to be warmed up when Puddin’ woke up. I thought I’d have to stop calling her that now. I also thought how two little girls were going to have a shock tomorrow.

“Hells bells!” I exclaimed.

“What’s the matter?” asked Simon.

“Trish starts school in the morning, and I haven’t put her uniform out ready.”

“Can’t you do it in the morning?”

“No way.” I got out of bed and went into the girls’ room. I saw the light under Stella’s door, she was still awake or feeding Puddin’, I mean Desi. I switched on the small light in the girls’ bedroom and got out her blouse and skirt and her school cardi. She was going to be so excited in the morning–what with school and the baby.

I went back to bed, Simon was asleep–he seemed able to sleep on a clothes line, whereas I was now wide awake. I snuggled into him and hoped I was rested enough when the morning arrived to get things organised. It looked like it would be a long night.