(aka Bike) Part 1814 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad
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House-warming, Washington Style, courtesy of the British Government 1814. (A painting by Tom Freeman).
It’s true that I often do things that I want to do, but as an adult, I also have to lots of things because others want me to do them.”
“I’m not an adult,” announced Trish.
“I know that, Trish; if you were I’d not be having this conversation with you.”
“So why are you havin’ it with me?”
“Because I want to help you learn to be the best you there is.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Mummy.”
“If I were to say, to make you the best girl you could be, would that make sense?”
“A bit more.”
“Okay, let’s stick with that then.”
“How did you beat me with the light?”
“I asked the universe to help me shine a light in the darkness.”
“It’s not dark–not yet, Mummy.”
“It was allegorical.” I never learn do I?
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It doesn’t matter. Look, I’m bigger than you, have more strength and experience. That’s why I won.”
“That’s not fair, you always win.” She pouted like an eight year old–unsurprising seeing as that’s what she is, I keep forgetting.
“Not always, and your time will come.”
“So you keep telling me.”
“It’s true, a while ago you couldn’t have helped heal my chest like that could you?”
“No, I s’pose not.”
“It’s a bit like conducting electricity, little wires can only cope with low currents, and to transport huge currents you need huge wires, like we see on pylons.”
“Why?”
“Because the strength of the current of electricity would destroy a small wire if we tried to run the large voltage we use on pylons through the wire that feeds your laptop. So the blue light needs to stay within the tolerances of your body size.”
“So when I’m as big as you, I’ll be able to do the things you do?”
“Possibly, there are other provisos, but I would think so.”
“So why can’t Daddy give more power than you, he’s bigger than you?”
“I don’t know, Trish. All I know is the energy seeks out those it wants to use it, so you should feel yourself very special to be chosen by it.”
“Are we unique?” she asked.
“We are as individuals, but as healers, no there are probably many worldwide.”
“Like how many?”
“I don’t know, Trish.”
“Huh, you don’t know much about it at all, do you?” She dismissed me.
“No, I probably don’t–but then, I’m not that interested in knowing too much about it, except that it will always let me know when it wants me to help it.”
“How does it do that, on the Bat phone?”
“Trish, please don’t be so cheeky.”
“Well, you tell me silly things.”
“In which case, this conversation is over. Go and wash your face and hands.”
“No.”
“Unless you do, you won’t have any dinner.”
“I don’t care.”
“Right, well you can stay up here just for that impudence, I’m also confiscating your laptop.”
“Hey, that’s mine, you can't take my stuff, that’s stealing.”
“No it’s confiscation, and as your mother I’m entitled to do so.”
“I don’t want you as my mother anymore.”
“Fine, we’ll go and see the judge again and you can return to the children’s home.”
“Fine,” she said and sat with her arms folded.
“I’ll be sorry to lose you, but if it’s what you want, then you can go back to the home. Of course, we’ll have to keep all the stuff you have now in case it makes the other children nasty towards you.”
“Why should it do that?” her bottom lip trembled a little as she spoke.
“Because you’ll have so much of everything, clothes, computers, mobile phone and so on. I’ll ask them what most of the kids have, and you can have the same. You’ll need a new school uniform, but they can buy you that.”
“Why will I need a new uniform, Mummy?”
“I’m not your mummy anymore, am I?”
“Who are you, then?” she now began to look a bit anxious.
“I’m Lady Catherine Cameron and you’re Miss Trish Watts. You won’t need your school uniform any longer because you won’t be going to your private school any longer. I pay for that, so unless you can get the home to pay for it, you won’t need it will you, you can go back to the council school.”
“But they used to beat me up.”
“Sorry, Miss Watts, that’s no longer my problem–you’ll have to take it up with the home, won’t you?”
“You mean I can’t stay here?”
“You can tonight, tomorrow first thing I’ll take the others to school and you to the social services office–we can pack the case now if you like.”
“I don’t want to go to the council school.”
“Sorry, Trish, that’s what other children do. If you’re no longer my daughter you’ll have to do the same.” This was tearing me apart inside but she had to learn this lesson.
“I hate you,” she said.
“You’re entitled to feel whatever you like, kiddo. Which nightie or pyjamas do you want to pack?”
“I don’t want to pack.”
“Okay, we’ll do it tomorrow. You’d better think what you’re going to say to the others, apart from goodbye.”
“The others?” A huge tear ran down her face.
“Yes, you’ll have to tell them why you’re leaving, won’t you?”
“Why have I got to leave?”
“We had an understanding.”
“What’s that?”
“An agreement. I said that as long as you wanted to be my daughter, I would love you as one. However, you just told me that you no longer wanted me as your mother, which means you no longer want to be my daughter. I can’t let you run loose on the streets, so it means the council will have to find somewhere for you to live, which will be a children’s home until they reassess you. That means you’ll be leaving and the others will want to know why. It was your choice.”
Suddenly the huge tear was joined by several equally large blobs of salty water as she burst into tears and clung onto me. “I want you to be my mummy, for always,” she said in a voice which was riven by emotion.
“Are you sure?” I asked quietly of the sobbing mess on my lap.
She nodded and sniffed, “Yes please, Mummy. I’m sorry I was nasty to you.”
“Okay, shall we start again?” I asked but what I was thinking was, I was sorry too, for calling your bluff, but sometimes we have to pull rank.
“Yes, please, Mummy,” she said and I hugged her. I felt my own eyes moisten as I thought I wouldn’t get away with that brinkmanship when she’s a teenager, so if I can knock it on the head now, it might not happen then–yeah, like hell.
Comments
my daily fix!
I dont comment enough, but I REALLY appreciate your continuing story!! My daily chapter of Cathy and her mousecateers, is always looked forward to! :) Your awesome writing style and biting sarcasm, (such as the picture comment above) are always entertaining. You keep it interesting, because you almost never see whats coming next. And you still have my favorite trait, in an author; I feel like your charactors are some of my best friends! so, thank you again and I look forward to more of your talented work. Kristyn
kristyn nichols
Children need boundaries
It probably hurt Cathy as much as it hurt Trish but it's the only way that Trish will learn.
Nicely observed and written as usual Ang. Sorry I've been incommunicado for a couple of weeks; I've been to Menorca and an iPod isn 't the ideal thing with which to surf the net.
S.
Pretty cliché for parent to say to kid..
this will hurt me more than it hurt you.
But I agree, Cathy is such a loving and kind person (except when you're trying to harm her family) that this had to really hurt. Glad Trish saw the light in the end but feels terrible to do that to a loving and trusting little one even if she's a pain at times.
Trish will learn
She's smart, and she takes advantage of it. However, she's also stubborn. Put them together and you get an arrogant bully. Cathy has to take the time now to teach and important lesson to her brilliant, but arrogant child. If she succeeds, Trish will own the entire world!
Red MacDonald
I love these...
two-headers and the way they explore things just that little bit deeper... In this case the reaffirming of the mother daughter relationship, Perhaps the way Cathy set about it was not exactly textbook ... But no one could deny how effective it was... Not that Trish would agree but at least now she might accept that her Mummy does know a few things after all..
Kirri
Can't remember any conversations like that.
Can't remember any conversations like that with my children, or me with my Mum. Of course none of them speak to me now; my Mum being dead and my children being sanctimonious, self focused, intollerant prigs.
It's killing me.
Gwendolyn
Difference between book learning and real life
Trish has to learn that facts and figures are meaningless without context to other people. Her Social IQ at this point is pretty dismal and that will ultimately limit her and make her more geeky than a well balanced human being if she does not change.
Kim
Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1814
It may have hurt both, but by Cathy doing what she did, she taught Trish a most valuable lesson. Oh, and when the White House was set afire, they chose to paint, or white wash the building's stone work, thusly giving the Presidential residence the moniker of the White House.
May Your Light Forever Shine
1814, Cathy and Trish
The 1800's series of episodes should have plenty of historical references (see my post in Episode 1812), along with the 1900's. I am looking forward to the choices Bonzi and Izzy choose to give us, and the paintings for the particular choices are magnificent.
I for one, enjoy the really brief history lesson contained in the historical episodes, and only wish they had been started much sooner.
Scritchy, Scratchy, and Rubbies!!!
This mother/daughter talk while hard on both mom and the daughter is one that HAD to come about. I hope Trish shares what she learned with her siblings. I also think Cathy is learning what she needs to do to help the Shekinah, although at this point it may be her subconscious mind coming forward. But if it helps, it helps.
Another Kudo (in addition to the one at the end of the episode, is due!
So, KUDOS
+VOTE+ +VOTE+
Don't let someone else talk you out of your dreams. How can we have dreams come true, if we have no dreams?
Katrina Gayle "Stormy" Storm
Phew !
Now THAT was risky, Lady Catherine ! It's a good job you have someone as level headed as Angharad looking after you, or you could have lost a fantastic daughter there !
Re the picture, I remember once being in Washington DC, and standing outside the fence admiring the lawns and the White House, and seeing this wee notice that said "This is actually the second White House to be built on this site - the first was burned down by the British... " I turned to the man accompanying me, who was Austrian as it happens, and commented "Maybe it's time we did it again!", and as if from nowhere, several tall, broad, hard-faced men advanced towards me threateningly from out of the crowd of tourists and obviously others. Now this was way back in the days of President Carter, so long before all the panic and increased security following 11 / 9.... I was able to explain that it was just BRITISH HUMOUR for my West European companion. I got away with it, but it reminded me that the Americans take themselves very seriously, unlike us Brits.
Briar