The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1279 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Gareth came down and said she’d taken a sedative–one that was safe with her pregnancy. She would sleep much of the day, which should help her de-stress somewhat. He also said he had to go back and do some more packing. “You know, she wanted you to come up and advise her on what we should take and what we should leave, it’s a pity you don’t have time, because I’d probably keep the lot.”

“Doesn’t she know what she wants in her new home?” I felt astonished, I thought every woman knew how she wanted her home, even if she couldn’t afford it.

“She doesn’t really have a clue, she’s always lived in other people’s houses and concentrated on herself, but that is built on very shaky ground and it doesn’t take much to cause tremors and then she collapses.”

“But doesn’t she want to learn, to understand what she wants?”

“I guess not, and me? I can live anywhere as long as it’s warm and clean and I have enough space to keep my stuff oh, and a garden, I like to grow things.”

“That figures with a name like Sage.”

“Hey, lots of people see it as in a wise man, not Salvia officinalis.”

“I suspect plenty of women would like to make stuffing with you,” I said this absently, realised what I’d said and blushed profusely.

“With you as the exception?” he smirked.

“’Fraid so, I’m a happily married woman you see.” I smiled with embarrassment.

“And several hungry dormice to support,” he added.

“Exactly.”

“Just as well I’m spoken for as well then, isn’t it?”

“Quite,” I agreed.

“Oh well I’d better get back to my sorting and packing, maybe you could come by some time soon and give us an opinion.”

“If I bring the wee yin, I could give you a couple of hours opinion, if Jenny could hold the fort here.”

“I could find some scratching in the cupboards for them for lunch, I suppose.”

I thanked her and went to pack a few things for baby C. I’d be very pleased when she was potty trained and I could leave all this behind. I brought down a pile of stuff and Gareth took it out to my car. Jenny cornered me, “You’re going to advise him on house decoration?”

“More or less, yes.”

“I hope that lust still isn’t in your eyes when you get there.”

“Be assured, Jenny, I’m happily married. I’d love to screw Gareth, then so would you.” She looked embarrassed, so I was right. “However, I’m not going to because I love my husband more than I lust after Dr Sage. So don’t worry about me, oh, and keep your hands off him as well, he belongs to my sister.”

“I know that, but it’s me ’ormones–gets me into all sorts of trouble they does.” She sounded like Eliza Doolittle and we both laughed, hopefully my warning was enough and she’d do her blouse up a button or two before Gareth came back again.

I followed Gareth to the new house, it was empty and he had a decorator lined up to start work on it in a week’s time. I toured it and gave him my opinion. There was a Portland stone fireplace in the sitting room so I suggested some colours that would go with it. He had books of wallpaper and I suggested three which might work and which of the carpet samples would go as well. I then suggested which curtain material would work too–“This one would pick up the grey in the stone and the flecks in the carpet, but that’s just my idea, perhaps Stella will feel differently.”

“No, that’s a great help, what about furniture?”

“Aren’t you taking some from your cottage?”

“Just my dining suite and my desk and chair, the rest is for the recycling people at the charity place.”

We went online and I chose a pair of sofas for the lounge, a couple of chairs for the dining room, it was quite big for a modern house, and so on and on. I even suggested a bed and couple of chairs for the bedroom, plus stuff for Puddin’s bedroom. I had been there two hours and he had a book full of notes on what I’d said. I felt like some sort of consultant. I also felt very nervous–what if Stella didn’t like it?

His study, he would get the decorator to erect shelves all round the room and some cupboards he could use to store his equipment and stationery. He was really pleased, so was I, the wee yin slept right through it.

We drove over to his old house and I parked behind his car. I was dressed in jeans and cotton shirt with a soft fleece jacket on top. I’d need to feed the baby in the next hour or so, and I had a tub of solid food for her too, for after the breast.

Gareth helped me unload my expedition’s equipment–well it was like that. If you’ve had a young baby you’ll know exactly what I had, even down to the changing mat and my Mothercare baby workbox–like one of the tool boxes I have in my workshop, it’s a grey and pink cantilever box with wipes and creams and so on in it. I take it everywhere I take the baby.

Gareth made us some tea, and I left Catherine in her pram to come round, she seemed very sleepy today and I hoped she wasn’t going down with something, not even Christopher Robin.

We wandered down the garden sipping our tea, Gareth showed me which plants he’d be moving and what he’d intended to do had he stayed here. I wasn’t that interested, now the hedgerow behind him was interesting, it was hawthorn and yes, we had some waxwings plundering the remaining berries. He hadn’t noticed–some ecologist he was.

“Cathy, you need to give up the babies and get back to work, we need people like you stopping indiscriminate development by unscrupulous developers.”

“I’ll be back soon enough, just let me enjoy my kids for a few years will you, especially this one.” I picked her out of the pram and she yawned sleepily and snuggled at my breast. “D’you mind if I feed her?”

“No of course not, d’you want me to leave you to it?”

“Feel free to stay if you want, it doesn’t worry me.” He sat down opposite me, and watched almost in adoration as I undid a couple of buttons and opened my bra and the mother-sucker latched on and suckled hungrily.

We had been at it for about two minutes and my milk was flowing quite nicely when the door burst open and in stormed Aubrey Murray, I was sitting with my back to him when he shouted, “I knew it was you, Watts. Come to spy on me, have you?”

He rounded on me, saw the baby at my breast and stopped dead in his tracks.

“What–what is this? Oh, I’m sorry my dear, I thought you were someone else.”

“Aubrey, I think you’d better go,” Gareth stood up and towered over the older man.

“Yes, so sorry, I thought your friend was someone else.” He shuffled towards the door.

“Aubrey, is it?” I called after him.

“Yes my dear.” He came back into the room.

“You’re dead right about who I was, but wrong about what I was, as you can see.”

His jaw dropped, “But–but this is impossible.”

“Is it? Perhaps it isn’t when you realise you made a rather fundamental mistake some years ago. Now you’ll believe me and stop calling me silly names. I believe you’ve met my daughter, Catherine.”

“Yes, perhaps I do.” He said quietly, his whole universe turned upside down.

“Oh, and I think an apology for past wrongs might be in order.”

“Yes, yes of course.” He paused to clear his throat in which the words were probably sticking. “I’m sorry for my previous misunderstanding of your condition, I hope that now you’ve got it corrected, you’ll be very happy. I–um–think I’d better go.”

Gareth saw him out and came back as my infant vacuum machine started on the second breast. “You enjoyed that didn’t you?”

“Very much. He made my life hell for several years and in many ways I wanted to do the same to him, but I don’t have the time, energy or inclination. He’ll leave me in peace now.”

“If he doesn’t just let me know and we’ll have words and he won’t enjoy it.”

“Gareth, he’s not worth the effort of getting physical.”

“Oh, I won’t touch him, but he doesn’t know that, does he?”

“You are a wicked Welshman.” I said and he flashed me a delightful smile.