The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1458 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I handed the mirror back to Siân and swallowed. “We weren’t in school together were we?”

“No you went to the boy’s school and I went to the girl’s. I remember you were so upset because we’d sat together in junior school and infants.”

“In Mrs Montcrieff’s class,” I said though why the name came to me I have no idea.

“Yes, she made you sit on the naughty chair because you had a fight with another girl over a doll, she wanted to put ...”

“...the green dress on and I wanted the dolly to wear the red outfit. I could be a bit stubborn.”

“Stubborn? The average mule has nothing on you–but d’you remember she pulled your hair, which was quite long then, and you slapped her. Unfortunately the teacher didn’t see her provoke you, but we all heard the slap–I think you pretty well flattened her.”

“Let that be a lesson to anyone who tries to take my dollies,” I said smirking.

“She’s even worse if you so much as breathe on her babies,” Siân commented and Sylvia kept scribbling.

“How d’you know that?” I demanded.

“For some reason your children have been the target of two or three attempts at kidnap and each time you’ve got them back yourself, sometimes with help, sometimes not. I mean it’s not long ago you rescued Simon–you told us about it the other day.”

“I did? Oh that was down by the docks at Portsmouth–another bit of memory. Why is it so fragmented?”

“That’s the nature of brain injury, it shakes everything up and as far as we know each memory is only a few connections between brain cells, so some might be missing or incomplete. A regular Athena, aren’t you?” Dr Pascoe looked up from her scribbling.

“What d’you mean?” I asked.

“She was the goddess of wisdom and warfare, of the female arts and civilisation,” continued the psychiatrist.

“Not a bad match for our sometimes girly, sometimes aggressive girl, here.” Siân smirked at me.

“Warfare? Oh come on, I hate violence.” I protested even though I knew I wouldn’t win this one.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Siân smirked again.

“Hamlet,” I snapped identifying the play from which the quote originated.

“Spot on, so we can include the arts and civilisation to our Athena look alike.” Siân was having fun with me.

“Was she covered in bruises as well then?” I asked.

“If she was, she could just magic them away–she’s a goddess, remember–she had a few more tricks than the average GP,” Siân was enjoying herself.

“Perhaps I should try that then.” I joked, “I call upon my divine powers to rid me of this bruising and restore me to my normal self.” I sat there and nothing happened. So I clicked my fingers, trying not to disturb the sleeping infant.

“Did you see that?” asked Dr Pascoe.

“See what?” Siân and I both asked.

“There were sparks when you clicked your fingers–oh my God–look.” The shrink sat open mouthed as did Siân.

“What? What’s happening–cor, it’s cold in here.”

“Can’t you see it?”

“See what?”

“There’s a bright blue light encircling you–Jesus–can you see this, Siân?”

I felt this intense coldness surround me and like a whirlwind seemed to whip up into a mini tornado. Then it stopped and the two doctors were sat there with staring eyes and goldfish mouths.

“What the hell was that?” asked Dr Pascoe.

“Haven’t a clue,” replied my friend.

“Did you see it too?”

“I think so–but what I saw I couldn’t say.” Siân seemed unusually lost for words.

“You didn’t see anything–okay?” I demanded.

“What d’you mean? Something happened with a swirling blue light and your bruises have gone. I have to document it.”

“If you do, bad things will happen,” I cautioned.

“Like what?” Dr Pascoe asserted herself.

“In a week’s time, your mother will fall and break her hip–if you keep this quiet, she’ll recover well and very quickly. If you don’t, she won’t recover at all.”

“That’s a threat–it isn’t a good idea to threaten a psychiatrist, missy.” Dr Pasco really got up on her high horse.

“I’m not threatening you–I’m giving you a choice about the future.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You lost your appendix when you were sixteen and it caused you to miss your brother’s birthday party, which miffed you because you were sweet on his friend Christopher–although it was a wasted effort because the delay nearly killed you, and Christopher is gay.”

“How d’you know that?”

“The energy you saw is telling me that your choice of analogies is quite appropriate, it’s also telling me that this thing will befall your mother next week and you cannot escape it–however, it might have a positive or negative outcome depending upon how you respond to this information.”

“This is what you told me about before isn’t it, Cathy? I never thought I’d see it though.”

“I lost it after an argument with the entity which it presents as. I got annoyed and it removed itself from me. In some ways I was glad because it’s a two edged sword. Why it came back I have no idea.”

“That’s you, isn’t it, Cathy?” exclaimed Siân.

“Who else were you expecting? Now if I can get my clothes, Stella and Trish can take me home–I’ve got loads to do.”

“Just minute, Catherine Cameron, you made threats against my mother.”

“I didn’t, I reported the future, but with a choice–the light will help you or not depending upon if you help it or not.”

“That’s a threat in my book–no one can predict the future, except in a massively simplistic way.”

“Okay, Dr Evans is going to come rushing in to say all his X-ray films of me have gone blank.”

“When?”

“About now.”

In rushed the neurologist, “This is crazy–all those X-rays we took of Lady Cameron have gone blank–we’ll need to redo them.”

“Save your money, Dr Evans, I’m going home as soon as I can get some clothes, or like this if necessary.”

“You can’t, we have to make sure the brain injury has resolved itself.”

“It has.”

“I think I might have a better idea of that than a lay person,” he said irritably.

“Not this time, Miles. Discharge her,” instructed Dr Pascoe.

“With all due respect, Sylvie, I’m the neurologist and if she removes herself from this hospital without my sayso, she does it at her own risk, because I won’t be held responsible if she collapses from a cerebral infarct or bleed.”

“Just get me the forms, I’ll sign myself out–okay? Then you can all go and play doctors and nurses on someone else.”

“Just who do you think you’re talking to?”Dr Evans glared at me.

“You, Dr Evans–thank you for your wonderful care which has cured me so quickly–oh by the way be careful of that left ankle.”

“What?”

“Do as she asks, Miles,” Dr Pascoe seemed a little anxious.

“There is nothing wrong with my ankle–oh get off my ward–get rid of her, Sylvie.” He stormed out of my room and stepped awkwardly on some wet flooring, his foot went from under him and twisted as it went. By the time others went to help him he was limping badly.

“Jesus Aitch Christ,” said Siân.

“Better not let Kirsty hear you saying such things.” I warned my friend.

“What is this–some sort of black magic? You wished that on him, didn’t you?”

“No, the energy gave me a glimpse into the future and I tried to pass on what it told me.”

“Doesn’t do the lottery numbers, does it?” asked Siân.

“I’m afraid not–that’s serendipity.”

“Pity.”