The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1608 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I excused myself from Simon and almost snuck across the driveway to the garage and dragged open the door to surprise Trish who dropped the tub of ice cream, the lid flying in one direction the rest of it going in another.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, young lady?”

She stood looking at the ground, but offered no defence or apology.

“Right, you can take the tub and the lid and wash the lid under cold running water, then dry it, then you can put the id back on the tub and return to the freezer. NOW.” I said loudly and she picked up the tub and lid and ran across to the kitchen. Five minutes later she was back and placed the ice cream back in the freezer. “Now you can go up to your room and stay there until I tell you to come down.”

“I’m sorry, Mummy.” She started to cry, but I wasn’t having any of it.

“Too late, up to your room and stay there–go.” I dismissed her and she ran sobbing across the drive and into the house. I closed up the shed and locked it then went back to the house.

“What’s the matter with Trish, Mummy?” asked Livvie.

“She’s been naughty and I’ve sent her to her room. Don’t you go up and talk with her, she’s being punished for deliberately disobeying what I said to her.”

“Oh, okay,” she went back to the dining room where she had her computer.

“Hard hearted Cathy,” said Simon when I returned to the kitchen.

“No, I was maintaining the boundaries which you said were so important.”

“She was at the ice cream was she?”

“I caught her as she took it from the freezer.”

“She dropped it?”

“She did.”

“That’s what she was washing?”

“The lid, yes, the rest of the tub landed right way up.”

“My wife the martinet.” He chuckled to himself.

“Children need to learn that I mean what I say.”

“Absolutely.”

“So why aren’t you backing me up?”

“You need back up?”

“Don’t be facetious, Simon, it doesn’t behoove you.”

“I thought you were a bit hard on her, no ice cream for three weeks.”

“That’ll be a month now.”

“Does she actually understand what you’re doing?”

“I think so, her comprehension is well in advance of her age.”

“Is it?”

“I think so.”

“Well you’re her mother, but a whole month without ice cream...”

“It’s probably longer since I ate any.”

“You’re twenty eight, Cathy, she is seven.”

“I’ve punished her, I might relent on the ice cream but she stays up in her room until I say she can come down–agreed?”

“I’m too tired to argue, Cathy. I think I’ll take the dog for a walk.”

“Why don’t you take Danny with you, do some male bonding?”

“He’s out playing football, isn’t he?”

“Oh is he–can’t remember where they all are. Take Meems then, she likes to walk with you or Livvie or even both.”

I left the kitchen and I saw Simon go into the dining room where the girls were. My own destination was my study where I did some more on the rodentia and the UK study.

I had this dinky software that enabled me to enter either a post code or an ordnance survey grid reference and it would include the site on the a map, which could be zoomed in or out, showing you quite a large scale or a small one. It was just tedious to enter the data. I did think of paying Trish to do it, but it’s too important and if it was discovered that she had done it, I’d be in all sorts of bother. Maybe I can find a student with enough functioning brain cells to do some of the donkey work–a big ask I know–but just maybe...

I did an hour of that before I got bored out of my skull and emailed the local paper to rerun my advert for a housekeeper. I don’t enjoy interviewing although I think Stella does, she’s into mind games as you might have noticed.

Thinking about all that and past occasions, I used to get so uptight worrying if we’d end up with someone who was transphobic and would react badly to Trish, Billie or Julie. As we don’t have anyone now with aberrant genitalia, it shouldn’t be a problem. I thought about Billie for a moment. I had a photo of all the children together with Stella, Simon and Tom from a previous Christmas and I still missed the little darling. I felt a degree of resentment towards the universe for loading so much upon such little shoulders then tried to console myself that her time with us had been as good as she could have wished for. She even died doing something she loved and she won’t have the problems of surgery and more stigma.

Tom had had her name engraved on the headstone of his wife and daughter’s grave, and we interred her ashes there. I got up and checked the dining room, the girls had gone out with their dad, I ran up the stairs and into Trish.

“Wash your face and hands and be downstairs in two minutes.” She was and met me at the bottom of the stairs where I gave her her coat.

“Where are we going, Mummy?”

“Out, in the car.” I pipped the locks and she got into the back of my Jaguar and onto a child seat.

I got in and dumped my bag on the front passenger seat before driving off. “Where are we going, Mummy?”

“You’ll see in a minute.” I drove to a supermarket and dragged Trish into the building with me. She offered to get a trolley and I told her we wouldn’t need one. I bought a pot of miniature daffodil bulbs which were just coming into flower and paid for them at the self service check out. Amazingly it worked without needing someone to come and sort it like it usually does.

Back in the car I saw Trish think of asking me again where we were going but then deciding not to. I pulled up by the cemetery and parked the car. Now she knew where we were going and asked if she could carry the plants. I nodded and handed them to her. She carried them in one hand, in the plastic carrier, the other she held on to my hand and I felt my irritation with her recede, so by the time we got to the grave I felt calmer and was able to focus on what we were doing.

We removed the flowers we’d left before and which were now dead, placing the pot of daffs into the vase so they’d stay upright as long as no one stole them or vandalised the grave–it happens, though I don’t understand why or who would do such things. If I caught them I wouldn’t be answerable for my actions, which would be extremely prejudiced.

We watered the pot and as Trish placed the vase back on the grave she spoke to her dead sister and the other occupants. I had a sense of love emanating from the grave which is total nonsense, there were two ancient bodies and a pile of ashes in the ground here that was all–obviously my imagination, yet Trish seemed to be surrounded by a beautiful rose coloured hue. Must have been some sort of reflection–sunset–a bit early. More likely my wishful thinking.

“Billie and Aunty Catherine liked the flowers, and Granny Celia thought they were lovely. She thinks you’re very kind but that you need to relax a bit more.”

“She what?”

“That’s what she said, Mummy, she said to enjoy your children and she says thank you for looking after Gramps.”

“Is she still there?” I asked my seven year old.

“No, she’s gone now.”

“Pity,” I said as we walked back to the car.