Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 915 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Once I’d stopped messing about with Simon, I quickly pulled on a skirt and top–the skirt was short, well above my knee and I wore opaque tights with ankle boots. I wrapped a fringed scarf round my neck, did a quick makeup job, some dangly earrings with butterflies on them, a squirt of Anais Anais and I was ready. No I wasn’t–I forgot my watch, and the bangle I was going to wear.

When I got downstairs, they were all waiting for me but I do like to make an entrance. We could have done with a minibus–when you think about it, there was Si, Tom, Leon, Stella, Puddin’ and the boys, Trish, Livvie, Meems and Julie–oh and yours truly. That’s two car loads in anyone’s money.

Tom took Stella, Puddin’, Leon, the boys and Julie, and the rest of us went in my car, which Simon drove. I prayed it wouldn’t break down, and my supplication must have been heard, because it didn’t.

We got to Southsea about half past one and went straight to the restaurant–The Green Room–which is where we usually eat. Of course being the owner’s family we get first class service, but then for the prices they charge, so should everyone. In real life I couldn’t afford to eat somewhere like this, even on my pay.

We agreed to go for the à la carte, and I was pleased to see they did a roast lamb, which I opted for and thoroughly enjoyed. I passed on the sweet, although the puddings did seem particularly tempting–Simon didn’t and stuffed himself with Mississippi Mud Pie. The girls opted for ice creams and Stella had a sorbet. Seeing her sorbet, I changed my mind and had one of those as well–an apple and mint one. I’m sure I have a recipe for that at home, must have a look when we get back.

Julie was in her element, flirting with the waiters and other diners–she’s going to be a good looking girl when the hormones take effect and the tricks I taught her with eye makeup, she’s improved on, and could probably teach me a thing or two, now.

She’d taken my advice and learned to wear tops which hinted at the delights within, without showing them, and she was thin enough to wear things with loads of lycra in them–today she had on a skinny rib polo-neck, sleeveless variety, with tight miniskirt and leggings with her Uggli boots. Over the top of it all she wore a large button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. She’d got Stella to put her hair up and I was quite proud of the way she looked–actually, I was proud of all my kids. The boys were tidy in shirt and jeans–their best ones, Trish wore a skirt with tights and her boots, a long sleeved top concluding her dress, Livvie was in pink jeans with pink checked shirt, and Meems was wearing a dress with her ankle boots.

Simon, was smart casual with his chinos and Pringle sweater, Tom his usual self, corduroy jacket, shirt and tie, and cavalry twill trousers. Occasionally he wears a suit to work, but mostly it’s sports jackets and trousers and nearly always a tie.

After eating, it was by now half past three, we opted to take a stroll–the weather was cold but dry–along the sea front. It was even colder when we got back to the hotel and collected the cars.

As Simon and Tom had had a drink, I drove my car and Stella drove Tom’s home, dropping Leon home en route–so we were home first.

“Leon didn’t ride over in those clothes did he?” I asked Simon.

“No, Tom ran him home to change while we were waiting for you–if we’d known you were going to be so long, we could have had a suit made for him.”

“Me? I wasn’t that long–was I?”

“You were a bit, Mummy,” said Livvie.

“I wasn’t, well only because your father messed about while we were upstairs.”

“It wasn’t I who soaked someone with the shower,” Simon declared self righteously.

“You know, that’s quite right–but then I didn’t tickle someone until they wet themselves.” I retorted and the girls thought it was hilarious.

I’d only had time to make a pot of tea before Stella zoomed into the drive and reversed Tom’s car next to mine–then as usual, she had to move it because no one could open a door next to my car, she was so close.

Tom looked ashen when he came in, Julie was elated–Auntie Stella drives like a demon–was the comment. Tom was shaking his head, and saying something which I translated to mean, ‘never again’. I can’t believe he hadn’t seen Stella drive before–I mean her reputation does precede her–but only just, she drives so fast, and he knew she’d hit me off my bike causing me to become a woman–joke.

“Sodding pleece,” she said storming upstairs with Puddin’.

“What happened?” I asked Julie.

“We were stuck behind a police car most of the way here–Auntie Stella decided to tailgate him, and he stopped her.”

“Serve her right, so did he book her.”

“Only for a date.”

“Eh?”

“She sort of flirted with him, so he chatted her up and they’re going out to dinner next week.”

“Jammy bitch,” I sighed, but then, I wouldn’t have a clue how to flirt with someone in a situation like that, I’d be too busy stopping my knees knocking while I crawled to get them to go away and leave me and my licence in peace.

“Once we got past him, she floored it all the way here, which was why Gramps is upset, especially when she cut across the motorbike to turn in here.”

“Oh boy–I thought he knew what she was like?”

“No–he was hiding behind his hands in the end, couldn’t bear to look–it was quite funny really.”

“So you enjoyed it then?”

“Oh, like, totally.”

“You dropped Leon off?”

“Yeah, he wanted me to meet his mum–she is weird.”

“I thought you’d met her.”

“If I had, I didn’t take it on board. Is she into some sort of witchy stuff?”

“Why–did she give her cauldron a stir or jump on a broomstick?”

“No she grabbed my hand and said my lifeline had had two breaks in it–how did she know?”

“Search me–I’m a biologist not a parapsychologist.”

“Yeah–but you know things, your healing stuff an’ all that.”

“I don’t, she told me she recognised the ‘powah’ I apparently had, and benefited a little from it herself–she has multiple sclerosis.”

“What’s that?”

“A disease which damages nerves, especially motor ones.”

“Oh, like what does that mean?”

“She can’t walk very well.”

“Oh, she stayed in her seat the whole time.”

“Did she say you had a long life line?”

Julie looked at her palm and said, “Yeah, she also told me I’d marry and have kids.”

“Oh–well I suppose I have despite the odds against–she didn’t specifically say they’d be your own kids did she?”

“I can’t remember.” She shrugged as if it wasn’t important, but her body language suggested otherwise. I can’t see any way that foetuses would be implanted in male abdomens in the next twenty years–it would be too risky for both baby and the ‘mother’, especially given that implanted foetuses in biological women have a higher rate of miscarriage then normal conceptions. It’s also not going to be a priority of any researcher, and I think we as a minority group have to learn to accept our limitations–so for the foreseeable future, pregnancy, is unlikely in an XY genotype.

“I wouldn’t worry about it just yet, anyway, kiddo. I’m going to make some toasted sandwiches for tea, what d’you fancy? Ham and cheese?”

“Ooh, cani’ve cheese an’ onion.”

“Sure, Cheddar?”

“Mmm, yes please, Mummy.” She paused as I was getting some bread out of the fridge. “Mummy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“She said I might get the ‘powah’ when I stop lookin’ for it. What’ya think she meant?”

“I’ve no idea, perhaps when you’re a bit older and settled down, you may discover you can heal things.”

“Things?”

“People, animals–you know, injured or sick people and animals.”

“Hey, I like the idea of healing animals–maybe I could become a veterinary nurse or something?”

“Or even a vet–you need to make your mind up and get some more qualifications, Julie, I’ve offered to get you into sixth form college.”

“Dunno if I could stand any more school stuff–didn’t like it much the first time about.”

“Well, girl, it’s up to you–just remember you’re starting as a Saturday girl at the salon next weekend.”

“Oh yeah–I forgot about that–oh poo, I won’t see Leon, will I?”

“There’s always Sunday.”

“Oh yeah–thanks, Mummy.”