The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1691 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Now I see why the skirt,” muttered Simon as I undressed, taking the aforementioned garment off.

“Oh, why’s that?” This was all news to me.

“Because bloody Sage was coming to lunch.”

I looked at him. He wasn’t joking—unfortunately, he was jealous. If I hadn’t been so tired I could have seen loads of garden paths down which to lead him, instead I got irritated.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means, you fancy him like mad which is why you asked him to come.”

“Which is why he sat with Stella and Fiona all afternoon.”

“So your plan went wrong, eh?”

“No, Simon, my plan went absolutely as it was intended.”

“How could it?”

“I just said, my intention was to try and get them together again and I knew he’d want to see Fiona, so when I called him, he jumped at the chance.”

Simon looked strangely at me, “Hmm, I suppose it could be true.”

“Of course it’s true—I happen to love my husband, though on occasions, I do wonder why.”

He looked a little sheepish and I continued disrobing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“I thought jealousy was my domain, I was always afraid you run off with a biological woman so she could give you children.”

“I have a biologist woman, and loads of children, so why complicate things?” I noted his play on words and smiled. “Cathy Cameron, you are all the woman I need, I keep telling you that, but somehow you never think you’re good enough to compete with biological females. I suppose it’s something in you because just when I think you’ve left it behind you do it again. Stop it, I know you can’t have kids, so we’ve done the next best thing, we’ve got a houseful of youngsters who seem to love us and who we love. They also need us, and that’s important, too. Possibly more important than all that is, from my perspective, that is as a selfish bloke, I love you and want you to be with me as long as we live.”

"I love you too, Simon Cameron, and yes, I do have this anxiety which won’t go away no matter how much I want it to. I know you love me and that is important from my perspective, that is a silly woman. Silly, but so happy with my husband and my children and everything, I’m so lucky.”

“Yes you are, now come and let me make love to you.”

Oh boy, why couldn’t we just have read about it for ten minutes and gone to sleep?

I was so tired, that despite loving him as much as anyone could, I fell asleep while he was still pounding away. Consequently, I woke up later lying in a puddle of—I know, too much information. I grabbed a handful of tissues wiped myself and the bed then after weeing, had a little wash and pulled on some panties with a liner pad inside. I got back to bed and thought to myself, I wonder if he noticed? If I’d died, would he have noticed, and would it have enabled him to boast he did actually shag me to death?

What silly ideas to enter my head at two in the morning. It was raining and I hadn’t heard Gareth’s car leaving, so perhaps they will give it another try. As I nodded off to sleep I was pleased that Julie hadn’t tried to muscle in on Stella’s patch, so perhaps she is growing up after all?

I went back to sleep and woke as the news was being read on the radio. Simon had gone but he’d scribbled a note and left it on the pillow. ’Love you, have to go to work, or I’d be making love to you all morning, Simon. xxx’

I had a tear in my eye as I went into the shower. Twenty minutes later I was calling the children to breakfast, my hair dried but down, wearing makeup and some jewellery and a skirt suit with heeled shoes.

The girls were making comments about my appearance but I just smiled as most of them were nice ones. It was Stella who had to lower the tone.

“My God, where are you going?”

“Work, why?”

“But you usually wear jeans for that.”

“So, a girl can change her mind, can’t she?”

“Obviously,” she muttered.

“I think you look cracking.” Gareth looked at me with those puppy dog eyes and I began to go all gooey inside.

“Mum, have you seen my football kit?” Danny interrupted my seduction, thank goodness, and I snapped back into my normal mode of action.

“Is it on the clothes airer?”

“I dunno,” he admitted.

“Well go and look.”

He came back with it and smiled, “You look smart, someone died?”

Stella snorted porridge all over Fiona who was not impressed. Gareth nearly choked on his toast and Livvie and Trish fell about laughing.

“Any chance of a lift, Mum?” he asked—ha fat chance.

“I’ll give you one,” said Gareth, I approved as it saved me going out of my way. “You teaching today?” he asked me.

“Yes, first years, why?”

“Ah, dress to impress, eh?”

“Good lord, a man who not only notices things but thinks about them, Marry him quick, Stella!”

“Ha, you took your time about getting spliced, so don’t preach at others—besides, I might yet get a better offer.”

I dropped the girls off at school and set off for the university. We’d have to do the draw again, only this time the word would be out. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this lecture.