Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1177.

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1177
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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“What if ‘e comes at me with a point-ed stick?” said Simon in probably the worst Welsh accent I’ve ever heard and straight out of Monty Python.

“Who–Alfie Bird?” I asked.

“’Ere, come at me wiv a banana.”

“I have better things to do than encourage your silliness.” I sloped off to get the kids to bed and check my emails.

“D’you think that nasty man knows where we live?” asked Billie, sounding quite scared.

“I don’t know, kiddo, but I doubt he’d be stupid enough to come here. The police would be round here in moments once I phoned.”

“Don’t worry, sis, we’ll look after you, won’t we Liv?” said Trish confidently.

“An’ me, I’ww hewp too,” said Meems, “So don’t wowwy, Biwwie, we’ll pwotect you.”

“Thank you,” said Billie and slid under the bedclothes.

I read them a short story and tucked them in, then went down and chatted with Danny for a while. He went off to bed with his soccer magazine. I fed the baby and chatted with Stella and Jenny. Then they went off to bed and I put tiny wee down after changing her.

Finally, I got round to my emails, most of which were rubbish–although there was one from Sussex Uni.

‘Dear Cathy,

I appreciate you’re busy, but our membership was asked who they’d like to do our Christmas lecture and your name came up. Any chance you could say something profound about dormeece and shows a few more out-takes? The date is 17th December.

Could you let me know, oh the fee is two hundred, hope that’s enough to tempt you.

Kind regards,

Abi’

It was dated today. Did I have the nerve to do another talk there? I wasn’t sure, plus the fact, that it was okay to do a talk to a bunch of parents who are being fleeced for school funds but to do the same talk to a larger group of undergrads and graduates plus staff–was a rather different matter.

I wrote back telling her that I had a young baby that I was feeding myself and I needed to think about it, but would get back to her in a day or two. I had a reply minutes later.

‘Wow, is there anything you can’t do? Dilly is pregnant–donor obviously, but she’s really happy with herself...’

Yeah, just wait until you tell her I’ve beaten her to it, I thought as I read her email.

‘Can you let me know asap if you can’t come and I’ll see if Sir David is available.

Congrats on the baby.

Abi’

There was another point to consider, did I want to do it and face the likes of Dilly and Ezzie Herbert, especially as he’d wanted me to do the UN job. Given the credit crunch and all the austerity measures being promoted by various governments, funding ecological projects wouldn’t be high on the political agenda–so I’m glad I didn’t succumb to the temptation of doing something beyond my abilities, which I considered the UN job to be.

Simon came through as I was mulling these things over. “Hi, Babes, we goin’ to bed or what?”

“Why what’s the alternative?”

“We could do it on the kitchen table,” he smiled and winked.

“At this moment, I think I’d rather come at you with a banana.” I switched off my computer and went up the stairs.

I was in bed and reading Cycling Weekly when he came through from the bathroom, the very image of male sexiness in his underpants and socks. Why do they always keep their socks on until just before they come to bed?

He pulled on an old tee shirt commemorating some rugby match or other. Now if it had been the TdF, I might have been interested, but it wasn’t.

I felt his hand on my leg and moved my leg. “Oh, be like that then,” he grumbled.

“Sussex Uni have asked me to do their Christmas lecture.”

“On what?” he asked more out of politeness than real interest, his attention being focused on a bulge in his underpants and a corresponding dent in my pants.

“I think they want some more out-takes from the dormouse film.”

“Have you showed them the one of you falling in the stream? ‘Look she’s fallen in da water,’” he said pretending to be Bluebottle from the Goons.

“No, I don’t think I have, I’ll have to speak to Alan about that one. I suppose he could have lost it.”

“I’m beginning to think I have,” he sighed.

“Lost what?” I asked laying my magazine down.

“Not my virginity, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Eh? I wasn’t thinking any such thing,” I said disdainfully.

“Not even a quickie?”

“Quickie what?” I asked disingenuously.

“A quickie shag, what else?”

“You mean you want to make love to me?”

“No, I haven’t got time for that, I just want some raw sex with the woman of my dreams.” His hand came back on my leg and he began to rub it gently.

“Don’t tell me she’s not available so your wife will have to do?”

“Something like that,” he allowed, then added, “Look are we going to fuck or not?”

“Could do I suppose, since you put it like that,” I sighed.

“Your enthusiasm is always such a turn on, missus.”

“Well, you know, I’m still sore after the milkman, the butcher, the baker...”

“Don’t tell me and the bloody candlestick maker?” Simon interrupted.

“Well he’s always welcome, dunno what we’d do without his wares.”

“Yeah okay, up school–up school–right up school.”

“Goodness, you went there as well?” I said naívely.

“Very funny, now stop yapping and get sh...” I switched the light off and simultaneously ran my fingers over his bulge before grabbing it. “Ooh,” he squeaked, the rest I’ll leave to your fertile imaginings, but I walked a slightly stiffly the next morning and sat down very carefully–dunno if blue light sorts such things out as well.

Billie was very glad that we hadn’t all been murdered in our beds until I pointed out that it was Monday morning and she needed to go to school along with all the others.

After breakfast and the school run, I emailed Alan to ask if he still had the clip of the stream episode. He wrote back saying he thought he’d sent it. I played the DVD and found he hadn’t, so he promised to do so later that day. He also said he’d made one or two more contacts for harvest mice and hope to schedule some filming in late spring. I told him I looked forward to it.

The post arrived and with it a typed envelope with a first class stamp on it. Inside was a badly made attempt at a blackmail type letter made from cuttings. I immediately put it down and found a polycover thing you stick in loose leaf binders. Then called the police.

‘tell Julie shes dead or good as.

the watcher.’

I looked at the note, you couldn’t really call it a letter and began to feel more angry than scared. If that fat bastard showed his face round here, if Simon didn’t get him first, I sure as hell would.

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Comments

The Vulture

He deserves everything that's coming to him. However he's removed from "active duty" (whether through "above-board" measures or otherwise) there'll no doubt be many in Portsmouth celebrating. Ideally though he needs to be put in a position where he'll blab - not only confessing to his numerous crimes but details of whoever hired him to target Julie.

 

Bike Resources

There are 10 kinds of people in the world - those who understand binary and those who don't...

As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

looks like first comment, but I bet I'm not!

Good series Bonzi. Make sure you keep Angharad's pen handy for her as well, I'm sure she helps a bit with proofreadin' and whatever...

Having said that, I think there's a couple of bits that slipped past her:
>Simon came through as I was mulling these things over. “Hi, Babes, we goin’ to be or what?”

It's a bit deep, and beyond my very little brain, unless he meant 'bed' of course.

But there's one bit that I'm astonished you let through!
> ‘Look she’s fallen in da water,’” he said pretending to be Bluebottle from the Goons.

Of course. Simon _could_ have done an impression of Bluebottle, but surely everyone knows that was actually 'Little Jim' !!!

Excellent series though, Angharad. If ever I check and you've missed a day, I always feel something's missing.

Thanks for it,

Is the harvest mouse thing...

...still on the agenda? Let's hope so. By the sound of things, the out-takes will of that will also be of just as much interest as the documentary.

Thanks A+B: I notice you're still drip-feeding us information about the Julie saga. Every time we learn a bit more, things seem to escalate.

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Bike Resources

Nasty

You certainly keep the tension going Angharad. I know individual typewriters can be identified from characteristics of their type face but I wonder if printers (particularly inkjet) can be too? So the 'Vulture' has accomplices.

btw my socks come off in one smooth motion together with pants and trousers so no shocks for my partner-in-bed :) And we were born with our nightwear.

Robi

If Cathy is getting more angry

than frightened, the evil doers better watch out. They've taken on a formidable and resourceful foe.

Part 1177 (98 dozen)

Time for Cathy to don her green tights and blous and become England's Emerald Archer.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Off By One

Actually, 1176 was 98 dozen.

___________________
I might not be a mathematician, but I count.

Whoops

Angharad's picture

comes of not starting to write this until after 11.00pm and then going to bed without looking at it. I usually have a quick squint at it when it's up - not last night too tired a bit like the plot!

Angharad

Angharad

I just don't believe the

I just don't believe the crooks know exactly who they are playing with. They better hope the police get to them before Cathy and Simon do, or they will be begging the police to take them to jail for a long time. Jan

What a silly man!!

So he calls himself the Watcher! Seems to me its something he should have been doing more of....He will learn....

Kirri

Not too smart,

Wendy Jean's picture

He's already tried to kill her, in one of the most horrible ways imaginable. So now he going to intimidate her? Kinda backwards there.