Wooden Digits (aka Bike) Part 642 by Angharad

I took Trish back to school unsure if I should make an issue of the teacher not believing that she was an accomplished reader for her age. “Did you actually read any of Robinson Crusoe?” I asked her as I parked near the school.

“Yes, Mummy, just a page.”

“You read her a whole page?”

“Yes, Mummy, did I do something wrong?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m just surprised she made you read that much.”

“She said she liked my reading.”

“I expect she did then.” We got out of the car and I led into the playground again. Once more the kids were lining up, and Trish followed them into school. I waved to her as she went in, and she waved back. I felt a tear in my eye and hurried back to the car. I had two hours to get home and back again. If this was going to be my life for the next few weeks, it was going to limit everything I did. It would also impinge on Mima too much. I would discuss it with Simon and Trish, but I felt she would have to stay to school dinners in future. When I collected her, I would make some enquiries.

I was waiting for the washing machine to finish and zipping about with the vacuum cleaner when Simon brought Meems back. She was a bit hyper, so I hated to think what she’d had for lunch. I did ask her but she couldn’t really tell me. She’d enjoyed herself so that was the important thing, and so had Simon.

I gave her a drink and a biscuit and went back to my cleaning. All too soon it was time to go and get Trish. Meems decided to come with me, while Simon agreed to watch the clothes in the dryer.

She told me what they’d done after they’d left me. Simon had taken her up the Spinnaker Tower, and she’d really enjoyed it. She’d walked across the glass floor and been really scared—I know I was when we visited it, but I don’t like heights.

After this he’d taken her somewhere, she wasn’t sure where, and she had a ride in some sort of mechanised ride, probably in a shopping mall, and bought her some lunch, then an ice cream. She seemed so proud to have Simon as her daddy. I hope he appreciated it as much as she did. I would try and sus him out.

We got to the school and Trish was next to last out again, once more she was talking to the same girl, ‘Peaches’ or whatever it was. I waited with Mima until she saw us and then walked her back in and caught the headmistress as she came out of her office. I asked about school dinners and she told me to let them know the next morning and pay the fee and it would be sorted. I had to let them know if she had any fads or allergies. If she did I wasn’t aware of them.

Just then, Mrs Cranmer appeared. “Hello, Miss,” said Trish.

“I take it you’re Trish’s mother?” the teacher said to me.

“Yes, how is she doing?”

“She’s settling in very well for a new pupil, and I’m very impressed with her reading skills which are very precocious.”

“Yes, I know, her overall cognitive skills are very precocious.”

“She says you study dormice at the university?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Obviously takes after you then and her grampas, one is a professor and the other a Lord and works in a bank.”

“He’s chairman of a bank, yes, Lord Stanebury.”

“Goodness, I am in esteemed company.”

“Not at all, we’re very down to earth, and Tom Agnew—the professor, and Henry Cameron—the Viscount, are salt of the earth types, really nice people.”

“If you say so, my dear, you know them better than I.”

“I’m thinking of booking Trish in for school meals, are there any organised activities during the lunch hour?”

“Oh yes, we run a few clubs in the lunch time, sewing and one or two sports. There’s a photo group and a computer club.”

“Super, thanks. C’mon girls, let’s go home and get some tea for Daddy and Gramps.” On the drive home, Trish told me how they’d been doing drawing and painting, and some counting. They were learning multiplication tables as well by the sound of it.

Mrs Cranmer was very nice but strict and she got told off for talking during the one lesson. Meems asked if she cried, but Trish told her that she didn’t, but that she wouldn’t talk again either because she’d felt rather foolish.

On the whole I felt the school was teaching her some self discipline and I approved so far. She is a bit of a chatterbox, so some help with boundaries was useful.

When we got home, Trish spent the time before dinner telling Simon and Tom what her first day as a school girl was like. Meems came out to the kitchen and helped me. She was a little fed up with her big sister hogging the limelight.

“When can I go to schoow?”

“When you’re five.”

“How wong is that?”

“Let’s see, you’re three and a half, so about a year and a bit.”

“Is that a wong time?”

“Not for me, but it probably is for you.”

“S’not fair.”

“What isn’t, darling?”

“Me not going to schoow.”

“That’s life, I’m afraid, Meems. That’s the way the system works.”

She sulked for a bit until I said she could help me wash the vegetables. She got soaking wet, but she had fun.

After dinner, Trish read to her and was trying to teach her to read. Meems struggled, she was probably a bit young for the task, but I was delighted at the patience Trish showed in helping her little sister.

I know I keep saying this but they are such lovely kids. Stella and the baby surfaced just before dinner, which created a small diversion. Trish didn’t ask to feed the baby tonight, so I got that joy. After I burped and changed her, she slept in my arms for a while before I put her down in her cot.

“Can I feed Baby Puddin’ one day?” Meems asked me.

“I expect so, but you’ll need Mummy or Auntie Stella to help you. You mustn’t try on your own because it can be dangerous to the baby.”

Tom took the girls up to bed, while I cleared up the dishes from the meal, Stella went back up to her room with the baby. I hoped it wasn’t because she felt ill or antisocial, but Tom said, he was pretty sure she was just very tired. I knew the feeling and went off early myself and was fast asleep by the time the amorous Simon came up to bed.