The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1391 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Stella is very upset,” said Gareth. I was sitting at the kitchen table comforting Puddin’ who had also been upset.

“I know she’s had a hard time, but she as good as accused me of stealing her child, which isn’t true.”

“Of course it isn’t, she’s grateful for all you’ve done for her and Desiree.”

“Who Desiwee, Annie-Affy?”

“Oh, she’s a lovely little girl, who likes to sit on my knee and give me cuddles.”

She giggled and hugged me, planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek. “I wuv you, Annie-Affy.”

“I love you too, Desiree.”

She giggled.

“However, she’s in no fit state to look after two kids–at least at the moment–possibly not even one.”

“Look, I’m hoping she’ll come out of this post-natal stuff.”

“She needs to see someone–she’s sick.”

“I think it’s associated with the birth. She’s resting now, and I have to get back to the office for a couple of hours. If I bring the baby down, can you or Jenny keep an eye on her?”

“I should think so, I’ll try and keep one on her mother, too–but if I get any silliness, then it’s off to the funny farm again.”

“You wouldn’t do that, would you–can’t you just call me?”

“She’s tried to kill me twice and herself, three times I think. I can’t risk any of the children–it’s police and a doctor.”

“Oh–she told me she got angry with you once, and that she tried to kill herself once.”

“Maybe I’m overreacting, but when someone tries to stab you with a knife, I assume they’re not thinking of my wellbeing. The last time, Trish got cut–she saved my life in distracting Stella.”

“Oh–I didn’t know that.” He went rather pale, poor man not sure if he knows what he’s taking on. “I–um–had better go.”

“The baby?” I reminded him.

“Oh yeah, sorry.” He ran upstairs and brought the carrycot down. “Stella’s sleeping.” He thanked me and left.

I began to wonder what we’d all bitten off–probably more than we could chew. I loved Stella, she’d been this wonderful, generous and funny woman who’d done so much for me when she first knew me–apart from trying to kill me that first day–okay, that was an accident and she could have driven on–but she didn’t.

She is my sister-in-law, and Simon is very fond of her. Perhaps I needed to involve Henry and Monica. I wonder if he knows she’s here at the moment.

I sent him a text to call me asap. Ten minutes later I had a text back, he’d call about one in the afternoon. I set about making some bread and soup–which we hadn’t had for a couple of weeks–I had some leeks, so did leek and potato soup and fresh bread.

The soup was simmering away and the bread baking–the smells were wonderful–when Fiona woke, she was hungry. I checked the fridge–I had two bottles of breast milk in there. I left the baby in the carrycot and ran up to see how Stella was. She was still sleeping–I hoped she hadn’t done anything silly with pills–and threw some blue light over her–she seemed to be genuinely asleep. I left her and went down to warm the milk.

By the time I got down, Jenny was picking Fiona out of the carrycot. “She’s hungry, I expect,” she decided.

“Yeah, Stella’s still asleep–but I’m concerned if she sees us giving my milk, she’ll think we’re trying to poison her baby.”

“I’ll go and wake her if you want,” offered Jenny, “I’m not afraid of her feelings.”

“No, you warm one of the bottles, I’ll go and speak with her.” I trotted back up the stairs.

“Stella, Fiona is crying for food–would you like me to feed her?”

“Huh?” came a sleepy reply.

“Fiona is crying for food, would you like to come and feed her or would you like me to?”

“You do it,” she said and turned over back to sleep.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah,” and she seemed to go back to sleep.

I went down and Jenny was just about to warm the bottle. “Never mind that, I’ll feed her.” I took her and sat down–a couple of moments later she was locked on to my nipple–sucking for all she was worth. “This kid is starving,” I said to Jenny.

Being small, she only took one breast load, so Catherine had some from my other breast while Jenny did a cleanup and nappy change on her cousin. Puddin’ seemed left out so she had a bottle of ordinary milk and sat in the high chair and drank it by herself.

Puddin’ is quite bright, she’s dry mostly in the day–she wears these training panties and she will come and tell us she wants to go. When she does she gets to put different coloured stars on her chart. If she wets, she obviously doesn’t get one, but we do change her.

By the time we’d finished all three littlies the bread was done and the soup only needed whizzing with my hand-blender–a wonderful bit of kit. I went up to call Stella who was awake and silently weeping.

“Fancy some leak and potato and fresh bread?” I asked her.

“I’m a dreadful woman, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, absolutely terrible–so, you coming for some soup?”

“If anything should happen to me, will you look after my two babies?”

“Nothing’s going to happen–unless you starve to death–c’mon, off your arse and have some soup–I’ve just made it.”

“Will you, please, Cathy–please say you will.”

“D’you think I’d say no? Let’s face it, Gareth is lovely and he’s bright, but he hasn’t got a clue–has he?”

“No,” she smirked, “neither has Simon, has he?”

“He has a clue–but that’s about it–when Catherine was very small, I left him in charge while I went somewhere; when I came back Mima was telling him what to do with the nappy.”

“Mima–she’s barely more than a baby herself,” she chuckled.

“Absolutely, but she’d changed her dollies and watched me, so she knew what to do. Trish had to show him how use the washing machine.”

“Men,” she said and rolled her eyes.

“They have their uses,” I commented back–I’d be lost without Simon–well okay, satnav might prove the answer.

“I s’pose,” she agreed. The tears started again, “I’m sorry–what I said–I didn’t mean it–about you–I mean.”

“I know.” I sat on the bed and we hugged and she sobbed on the table.

“I love you really,” she said, “You’re so special to us.”

“I love you too, Sis, I’ve learned a lot from you.”

“What have I taught you?”

“More than you’ll ever know–and, you did launch me into womanhood.”

“Oh that–yeah quite literally.” She laughed and wept at the same time.

“Let’s get some food.” I rose from the bed and held my hand out to her.

“Did you feed Fiona?”

“Yeah, she was starving.”

“I don’t think my boobs are working properly.”

“Okay, let’s get someone out to advise you–or take you to see a health visitor.”

“This is crazy–I’m the one who has babies and can’t feed them, you can’t have them but can feed ‘em–the world is upside down.”

“I don’t try to understand it–just go with the flow–and my tummy is rumbling–c’mon–food–now, missus.”

“There you go again, only been a woman for a couple of years and you are a missus–I’ve been one all my life and I’m still unmarried. Ironic or what?”

“Well you know me–competitive–food, before I fade away.”

“Let me just wash a moment.”

I waited, unsure of how safe I thought she was, not so much in harming others; more herself. I wondered if I ought to pull out of this play–family come before external things–and she is my family.

“You going to be much longer?” I called through the door. There was no answer. “Stella–are you alright? STELLA–open this door.”

“What’s the problem?” she asked opening it and walking out.

“I wondered if you’d been taken ill–you weren’t answering me,” now it was I who was sobbing.

“I couldn’t hear you with the cistern filling–you surely didn’t think?”

“I’m sorry,” I sniffed, “With what you said earlier about taking care of your babies.”

“Yeah–okay–I didn’t mean it like that.”

I blushed absolute scarlet, “I’m sorry.”

She hugged me, “You’re a good woman, St Catherine, don’t let anyone tell you different.”

“Yeah, course–just stay away from wheels.”

“Very good–now where’s this soup?”