Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 945 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

As I waved our visitors goodbye, I began to think we’d need a bus if the family got any larger and we wanted to go anywhere together. I don’t like driving big vehicles, so I don’t think I’ll be driving one of those any time soon.

I chased Julie off to bed–she hadn’t noticed that Leon wasn’t at the house, although he often would be gone before six–unless he manages to cadge dinner with us. He was coming on Sunday instead, so she’d see him then.

“How did you manage to put together the red book to embarrass me?” I asked Simon.

“Oh that was Stella’s idea. Then, when Julie came, she bought into it. We were going to do it at Christmas, but things were too busy–so you got it tonight. I thought it was great fun.”

“You weren’t the one chewing her knuckles and cringing.”

“Oh come off it, Babes, you were laughing as much as anyone.”

“That was at Julie’s presentation as much as anything else–no wonder she was so dressed up–she thought she was that tart who does Big Brother.

“Davina McCall or whatever she’s called?”

“Yep–that one, as uninspiring as the programme.”

“I’m not gonna disagree, Babes–now what about a bit of nooky with a celebrity?”

“You’re not one are you?” I queried.

“No–but you are–c’mon, get your nightie off and let me at ’em...”

It seemed not long afterwards it was daylight and the gigglers were invading again. I tried playing dead, but some cold hands on my back caused me to squeal and I knew then I was doomed.

With ruthless efficiency they inserted themselves into our bed–I hoped Simon was wearing some clothing, preferably on his lower half–or there would be some giggles. I waited–nothing much happened, except a repeated pat on my shoulder or upper arm. “Mummy,” whimpered the voice I was trying to ignore.

“Hmm,” I mumbled back.

The patting continued as did the whiney voice, “Mummy?”

“What?” I grumbled back.

“Happy Mummy’s Day,” retorted Mima.

Don’t you just love ’em? Just before you kill ’em.

“We got you a supwise...”

“Shush,” hissed Trish.

“But I wanna give Mummy a supwise.”

Learn to talk properly, Meems, it would give me the shock of my life. I kept quiet wondering what this surprise could be–flowers or chocolate? I loved both, but I couldn’t eat flowers, so I know where my preferences lay.

“Shush–or it’s not gonna be a surprise is it?–you dummy.”

“I’s not a dummy–Twish; you’s a dummy.”

“What’s all the fuss about?” grumbled Simon. As he hadn’t said anything since his moment of ecstasy last night, I assumed I must have shagged him to death–if I had, it would have been the way he would have wanted to go. Obviously, I hadn’t–oh well, better luck next time. I sniggered at my own joke and Simon picked up on it.

“And what are you laughing at, missus?”

“Oh nothing, still thinking about last night,” I sniggered some more.

“The red book thingy?”

“Not entirely.”

“Hmmm, we’ll have to do that red book thing again–it certainly made you–um–passionate.”

That was probably the couple of glasses of wine I imbibed after my embarrassment was over–does tend to relax my inhibitions somewhat.

“Mummy, woss pashnate?” asked Trish.

“Strong feeling, darling.”

“We did the passion of Jesus in school, ’member Trish?” offered Livvie.

“Was that with Mary Magdalene?” asked Simon, before sniggering–“Took him three days before he could move after that.”

“Careful, Simon, or Cardinal Rottweiler will be asking me to make other educational arrangements for the bulk of our issue.”

“Eh?” he shot back.

“It’s Mothering Sunday.”

“Yeah–so?”

“You’re supposed to make the tea and bring me breakfast in bed.”

“Dream on, missus–you want tea, you go and make it.” He pretended to go back to sleep. I might just shag him to death one of these nights–but not tonight–I’m too sore in the area concerned.

I managed to wriggle out of bed and went for a wee after which I was almost dragged downstairs before I could grab my dressing gown.

“Cwose you’s eyes, Mummy,” instructed Mima as they led me to the dining room. I did and walked into the doorpost, nearly knocking myself out. Trish kissed my head better, and the bruising eased although the headache might just have been caused by grapes rather than door surrounds.

They helped me up to my feet and once again I was exhorted to ‘cwose my eyes’. I did and when the door opened, before me stood a large orchid with umpteen buds on it.

“Where did that come from?”

“It’s for Mother’s Day,” said Trish.

“I’d gathered that much–but how did it get here?”

“It’s from us, Mummy.”

“I–um–had worked that much out.”

“Daddy bwought it in when you was asweep,” chuntered Mima from behind me.

Well knock me down with a feather, I’d never have thought of that–duh. Still, I did ask, so it’s my own fault if I got a silly answer.

“Do you like it?” Livvie asked with pleading eyes.

“It’s like all three of you–absolutely beautiful. Thank you, girls.” I kissed each one of them–even though bending down made my headache worse.

They all danced about giggling to themselves. The noise brought the boys down who handed me a large bar of chocolate and a card. I thanked them, put the chocolate in the fridge and made them all some breakfast.

Leon arrived mid morning–he gets later and later, so that made Julie’s day. Tom had him cutting the grass, so she helped him. While the girls were busy annoying Simon, and the boys were out playing gooseberries with Julie, Tom and I slipped away with the dog and a bunch of flowers to visit the cemetery.

We didn’t say much as we walked, I carried the flowers, he had the dog on the lead in one hand and his other arm was linked through one of mine. It felt good, to be walking with my adopted father to visit my adopted family, albeit a deceased one.

I waited while he stood at the graveside–giving him some room while we–Kiki and I wandered about looking at gravestones–until she spotted a rabbit and was off, pulling me after her until I fell over a gravestone and turned my ankle.

Tom called her back which she eventually did–I limped up to the grave and between us we put the flowers in some water and placed them on the grave. I wished the occupants of the grave a good day, and we then limped back to the house. It was I who limped, with Tom trying to help me, and control the stupid dog.

Simon thought it was hilarious–the girls were very concerned–so was I, it was too painful to drive. I soaked it in cold water and then Trish had a go at it. She helped it quite a bit but it was still sore as I tried to make the lunch.