The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1218 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Although we went to bed, neither of us slept. I kept worrying in which hospital or mortuary Julie would end up. I fidgeted and tossed and turned. I fed wee yin–my tossing and turning woke her up, she was starting to go about six hours at night–but not tonight.

Simon did actually fall asleep while I was feeding the baby, so I went downstairs and made myself some tea. Tom came to see what was going on, when I explained he sat with me for an hour.

At four o’clock, the phone rang. I picked it up with hesitant hand, “Hello?”

“Is that, Lady Cameron?”

“Yes, who’s that.”

“Sergeant Milsom at Portsmouth main police station.”

My stomach flipped and I felt quite sick.

“What’s happened?”

“No need to worry, we have your step-daughter, is it?”

“My foster daughter,” I corrected him.

“A Julie Kemp?”

“That’s right.”

“She was found as a passenger in a Mercedes A class, which she says is hers, but it’s registered to you.”

“Yes, it’s her birthday today–or yesterday, it was my car and I gave it to her.”

“Very nice, I wish I’d had a mother like you.”

“Sorry, Sergeant, I can’t cope with any more adopted children.”

He laughed and I chuckled out of relief. “How many have you got then?”

“Six.”

“Right, well I can see how keeping tabs on them all could be a problem.”

“All the others are where they should be, except the one you have with you and she was expected home about midnight.”

“So she didn’t take the car without permission?”

“She only has a provisional licence, so I didn’t expect her to drive the car unless it was part of an organised lesson. So she used it without our agreement but I can’t say she took it without permission. What happened?”

“One of our patrols pulled them over for driving erratically. A Cindy Perkins was actually driving–she was breathalysed and will be required to give a blood sample. She’s likely to be charged with drink driving. Julie was drunk, and threw up over one of the arresting officers.”

Oh shit–“Could I offer to pay for cleaning his uniform?” Damn was that bribery?

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Lady Cameron.”

“What happens now?”

“I suggest we let them sleep it off in the cells and deal with the embarrassment of being locked up and the hangover, they’ll probably have.”

“She’s supposed to be working tomorrow.”

“That is not my problem. It’s our policy to let parents know when we have their children in custody. I would suggest you collect her after ten tomorrow.”

“Will she be charged with anything?”

“Probably given a caution–but if it happens again...”

“I shall do what I can to try and ensure it doesn’t.”

“I know foster kids can be difficult–my sister used to do it for the money, the council used to pay quite well.”

“I can assure you we don’t do it for the money.”

“No, ’course not.”

“Goodnight, Sergeant, and thank you for letting me know where she is–I have been worried all night.”

“You’re welcome.” He rang off and I rinsed out my mug and went back to bed. It took me ages to get off to sleep I was so angry at Julie’s stupid behaviour. I know she didn’t have a lot when she was younger and her parents were unsympathetic to her gender difficulty, but we give her practically everything she wants, including the space to be herself. We’ve got her therapy and hormones and she’s well on the way to surgery in a year’s time–and she does this. Simon will be furious–he might even take the car off her altogether.

I must have gone off because I awoke and found myself alone in bed and it was nine o’clock. Once I’d actually taken on board what time it was, I jumped out of bed and saw the girl’s bedroom was empty and when I rushed downstairs Stella told me that Simon had gone to work, and Jenny had taken the girls to school. The baby had only just woken and she, Stella, was feeding her from the bottle. I thanked her and ran back upstairs, showered and dressed soberly, then when Jenny came back, got her to drop me at the police HQ with the spare keys for the Mercedes. I would drive it back and it would go in a locked garage.

I’d spoken with the salon, and of course they were in uproar as two of their girls were out with Julie, and presumably were also still locked up. I told the owner, I would get her home, showered and dressed and in to work as quickly as I could, but it was likely to be lunch time.

She was cautioned and let out with a stern warning about underage drinking and who she let drive her car. She wanted to hug me, but I avoided it. “Thanks for coming to get me, Mummy. I’m going home and sleep until Monday.”

“You’re not, you’re going home, showering, dressing for work and after some brunch, you’re going to work.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, or this car goes off to be sold and you can wait until next birthday for another one.”

“But I’m not well.”

“Whose fault is that?”

“I think they doctored my drinks.”

I stopped the car. “Julie you are quite capable of getting pissed all by yourself. That you took the car out without telling us also shows us that you show very poor judgement.”

“I was tiddly,” she protested.

“I don’t care–you knew enough to find your keys before you went out–so I’m almost inclined to believe you fully intended to do this.”

“I didn’t, Mummy, I took the keys just to prove you’d given me the car.”

“Well as Daddy bought it, he can decide if and when you get it–but I can tell you for nothing, he went to work after not very much sleep–so you can do the bloody same.”

“But, Mummy...”

“No buts, my girl–you’ll do as you’re told.”

“What if I don’t?” there was a trace of defiance in her voice.

“Then I shall recommend the car is sold off and we shall have to discuss any further consequences which might occur from your defiance.”

“I feel like leaving home after all this,” she said as if she was threatening me.

“That might be one of the options we discuss,” I said dispassionately. It wasn’t what I wanted and it felt like I was going back on my promise to her–but she was moving beyond my control and if she couldn’t stick the rules...

What’s so sad is that we all love her. When she’s nice–she is really lovely and I’ll never forget her sacrifice to protect Billie–that was real courage, but I can’t cope with her disrupting everything effectively throwing our love back at us.

I got her to work about two hours later, she sulked and sniffed all the way there–the owner gave her another bollocking and it was only because I was standing between her and the door, that she stayed and took it.

Back home I called Stephanie and explained what had happened. “Is that all?”

“Is that all? Isn’t that enough? I lost a night’s sleep and all my trust in her.”

“Was your trust so poor?”

“No, I know she’s essentially a decent girl but she has this capacity for slapping us in the face.”

“Yeah, she’s a teenager–they do such things–she’s testing her boundaries, seeing if you do really love her.”

“We give her everything she needs and more and she seems a bit ungrateful if you ask me.”

“Giving her material things isn’t love, especially when you have plenty of money, Cathy. Yes, she’s young and likes the material things, but that isn’t showing her love–you showed her more love when you made her go to work and stood with her while she was carpeted. That’s being a mother–tough love. Confiscating the car altogether is probably a bit OTT but for a month or two–that might teach her a lesson.”

“She talked about leaving home.”

“Teenagers do that all the time, when I was her age I left home twice a week–one night they locked the front door, I had to sleep in the summer house in the garden. I didn’t do it again.”

“So do I let her go–call her bluff?”

“No, but don’t give any concessions to keep her, she has to stay under agreed house rules.”

“What if she does decide to leave?”

“Ask her not to.”

“And if she does?”

“I don’t think she will, but get her to call me first.”

“I’ll try.”

“I think she will.”

“Thanks Steph–I’ve got to dash, gotta collect the girls.”