Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 896 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

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The Monday morning saw us back to normal–breakfast, girls to school, boys ready to catch the bus to their school, Simon back to work, Tom back to the university and Julie and I off to do some food shopping after dropping the girls off to school.

I’d got her accepted as an apprentice at a hairdressers but her college course wouldn’t start until September–which was a pity. However, the shop were happy to take her as a Saturday girl from the following week. They didn’t provide uniforms and she had to wear all black clothing, trousers or skirts–not too revealing. She was miffed at that but I smirked, considering she was wearing a very short mini skirt which practically showed her knickers, or possibly would have done were it not for her thick opaque tights.

We went to Asda and added a few inexpensive items to her wardrobe–all in funereal black. She seemed happy enough with the effect. I just hoped she wasn’t going to go Goth on me. They talk about the terrible twos, I think they must be a dawdle compared to the terrible teens–and I’ve missed half of Julie’s already. Mind you so has she.

I allowed her to grab some more makeup as well as the clothing, then we did the food shopping–and I was already nearly a hundred pounds adrift. By the time we’d filled the trolley with food, my deficit was doubled–then, six kids and three adults eat quite a lot of food.

We loaded the car and drove home, awaiting me was an update on the adoption of the girls, a letter agreeing to my fostering of the two boys, and a bill for the car–which essentially explained that they couldn’t find anything wrong. Maybe I should try using the blue energy on it next time?

Thinking about the fostering, when I asked the two boys if they wanted to stay with me, Danny’s reply was typical of him. “That’s a no brainer,” he said and Billy agreed with him.

Before he went back, I’d asked Simon his opinion about coming clean with the kids about my history.

“What’s that going to prove?”

“I know what they might be going through–or two of them, at least.”

“I thought Trish knew, anyway?”

“She seems to have forgotten or maybe didn’t take it on board.”

“Didn’t take it on board? Come off it, Cathy, she’s as bright as a button, if she’s been told, she took it on board–however, it might suit her to ignore it, because it might shatter her illusion of you as her perfect mother.”

“That’s a point. What about Julie? Should I tell her?”

“What for? How long have you got to prove anything to anyone–you’ve left all that behind: you’re my wife now, a woman and a foster mum–what would exposing your past do except damage to the children. The girls have seen your body naked–they didn’t notice anything wrong with it–you’re lucky that your hips seemed to spread a bit and your waist narrowed. Let’s face it–without being told no one would think you were ever Charlie, would they?”

“I hope not–I just wondered if it might help Julie learn patience if she knew I’d had to wait as well.”

“Patience–my arse–that girl is a typical teen, everything yesterday if not sooner and then it’s ignored the next day–attention span of a gnat, morals of an alley cat, and lazy to boot.”

“She’s been better lately.”

“She’d better, if she wants to collect her earnings. I mean how much have you spent on clothes for her?”

“I don’t know, I’ve not been keeping account of it.”

“Well I’m going to dock her some of it to help pay you back and some for her reluctance to get off her bum and help.”

“So how much are you going to give her?”

“Nothing–she owes you.”

“Si, you can’t do that,” I wailed.

“If she worked for the bank, we’d have sacked her on the first day.”

“Just pay her, I’ll take the hit for the clothes for now–I’m supposed to be fostering her, after all.”

“Only because no one else would take her on.”

“Well, I could be said to be uniquely placed to understand her position.”

“Why, were you bone idle, too?”

“No–didn’t get the chance–my father had me up and doing chores or exercising. My only escape was to be studying–fortunately, I was quite good at that.”

“So he did you a favour in a way?”

“Perhaps–I know he was abusive to me for a period, but he was still my dad, and I did love him.” I felt a tear form in my eye which perched for a long moment on the edge of my lashes before plopping down my face.

“Hey, don’t cry–of course he loved you, he told you often enough.”

“Yeah, only because the stroke changed everything. I wonder if he would have without it?”

“That’s a pointless question isn’t it, as we can never know one way or the other.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, Si–so what should I do?”

“Do?”

“Yeah about telling the kids.”

“I told you–don’t.”

“Okay, my lord and master has spoken.”

“Laird, if we’re being technically correct.”

“Bloody porridge bashers,” I muttered less than quietly.

“At least I’m not a bloody Welshman who couldn’t swim,” he retorted and we bickered in fun for a few more minutes, making up insults which became increasingly ridiculous.

“So, you’re sure then?” I asked.

“Sure, about what?”

“Not telling the kids?”

“What do you want me to do–take out a full page advert in the Times?”

“No point, I read the Guardian if you remember.”

“The answer’s still the same–N–O–spells NO.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it then.” I said as I wandered towards the bedroom door and darted out of it when I heard him come up behind me. He chased me down the stairs, catching me only because I couldn’t run and laugh at the same time.

“Huh, and you tell me off for getting physical,” huffed Julie as Simon pulled me to him and kissed me.

“When you’re married, your husband can do with you what he likes,” called Simon.

“Can we start looking for my wedding dress then?” she called back and his face fell.

Back to the present–I reflected on the weekend and resolved to speak with Steph Cauldwell before Julie went in to see her tomorrow–if only to make sure she knew what was happening to my charge.

Almost before I could blink, here I was standing at reception booking Julie in to see her. We sat and waited a few minutes, then she was called. I went with her, and Julie went into the consulting room while I beckoned Steph out to have my quick word.

“No prob–I’ll up the hormones, that should cool it a bit.”

“I hope so–I’m just worried that she’s going to get into a situation in which she’ll get hurt.”

“I thought that had happened once already?”

“Yeah, if I only thought she had learned from it, I wouldn’t be so concerned.”

“Don’t forget, if she thinks she can wind you up, she will–she’s a teenager–all angst and acne,” she winked and went into her room.