(aka Bike) Part 1946 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad
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“Sussex students are revolting,” said Stella, breezing into the kitchen. “Oh, could you make me a cup too?”
I turned round from kettle and said, “Hey presto, you’re a cup.”
“Very funny, now make a cuppa, Watts, or are you going to revolt as well?”
“Why should I make you a cuppa when you impugn my alma mater?” I fired back at her, at the same time reaching for another mug from the rack.
“I wasn’t, it’s all in here,” she passed over the Independent digest, which goes by the name of the ‘i.’ Value for money, it’s amazing, it’s twenty pence compared to the cost of a Guardian at one pound forty. I still like my Guardian, even though I don’t have time to even read the back page while Tom slurps coffee all over the front of it.
I flicked through the tabloid sized newspaper and found the report she was mentioning–it was about Sussex University wanting to contract out some services to save money, and the students had occupied some building as a protest. I probably agreed with them, universities are places of learning not businesses.
“So are you revolting too?” she asked when I handed her back her newspaper.
“I prefer to see myself as a revolutionary,” I retorted, with, I hoped, some indignation.
“Oh yeah, Che Guevara with tits–yeah, that’s you okay.”
“Oh thanks, Stella, he had a beard as well.”
She glanced at me and then pretended to do a double take, “My god, you’ve shaved it off.”
“What has Mummy shaved off?” asked Livvie walking into the kitchen looking for a drink.
“Nothing, darling,” I replied.
However, Stella decided to up the ante. “Yes you did, you told me you’d shaved off all your pubic hair.”
“Stella,” I complained, but Livvie ran off laughing. “Now they’ll all be wanting to shower with me tomorrow to see if I have.”
“I’d run upstairs quickly then, and do it before they demand a pitch inspection.”
I shook my head and sipped my tea. That woman could be classified as insane if she wasn’t so crazy. I caught movement from the corner of my eye and now had three schoolgirls and a toddler wanting to see my supposed bare snatch. I had jeans on, so they were wasting their time.
“Please, Mummy, my we have a drink?” asked Trish, and I told them to help themselves. I make them ask, because if I let them just get on with it they drink far too much juice, which can affect tooth decay.
They stood around gulping their fruit squash when finally, Livvie asked, “Does it itch, Mummy?”
She was staring intently at my groin so it became somewhat obvious what she meant. Stella thought it was highly amusing.
“I haven’t shaved anything except my armpits, Liv. Auntie Stella was joking.”
Livvie looked lost for a moment.
“Don’t believe her, girls, she’s just too embarrassed to admit it.” Stella stirred her cauldron, and I felt like bashing her on the head with it. The girls were now unsure of who to believe.
“Stella, stop this nonsense.”
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much. That’s Shakespeare, so it’s bound to be right, isn’t it girls?”
The three children looked bewildered by Stella’s insistence.
“He also got a character to say, ‘Odds bodkins,’ but it doesn’t mean anything,” I protested.
“Odds what?” asked Trish.
“It’s a saying from that period, it’s just an exclamation like Gramps sometimes says, ‘It’s a sair fecht right enough’.”
“Yes but what does it mean?” demanded Trish.
“It doesn’t mean anything, it isn’t meant to.”
“Why say it then? That’s like saying hoist the main brace on a submarine,” Trish took the conversation to new depths–no pun intended.
“Put your tumblers in the sink and go and play,” I instructed them.
They all went off giggling while Stella snorted.
“And you, Missus, can stop that sniggering,” I said like an outraged school ma’am, which of course, only made her snort even more, and then she had to wipe her nose–ugh–bogies.
“Huh, who stole your lollipop?” asked Stella.
“Perhaps I’m just tired of silliness and silly games,” I rose from the table and Stella’s expression was a mixture of indignation and fury.
“You play them as often as anyone, so take the mote out of your own eye.” She suddenly stood up and flounced up the stairs. Just great.
David arrived and began lugging in loads of shopping which he stacked in fridges and freezers or the pantry. Sometimes this house looks like a restaurant, and quite a sizeable one.
“Got a bargain on the minced beef,” he smirked, “It’s the DNA tester kit which was expensive.” He chuckled to himself as he went back out to his car. I went back down to my study and regretted being unable to publicise the survey. It cost a lot of time and money, it’s a resource–people should know about it. I was about to call Erin back when I stopped, I’d still have to deal with that prat from Swansea–“Oh why can’t he just have a heart attack and die,” I said to myself, then berated myself for my childishness.
We had lunch and I went to do some more stuff for the conference. I dunno, I seem to work harder at home than I do in work. It was half past two when the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Cathy, it’s Erin.”
“Hi, I’m not doing it.”
“You can now.”
“What d’you mean?”
“Professor Freeman had a heart attack and died lunch time today.”
“What?” I gasped.
“He died–so are you free for this programme?”
“He died?” I felt my head spinning.
“Yes, he had a heart attack–the paramedics couldn’t save him.”
“Oh, I am sorry.”
“Sorry, you couldn’t stand him?”
“Yeah but I wouldn’t wish him any harm,” I lied and felt my face burning–I’d not many hours before done just that. Had I killed him? Had the blue energy heard me and acted? I was devastated.
“Cathy, are you listening to me?”
“What?”
“You’re not listening to me–can you do this programme?”
“I–er–don’t know.”
“I’ll put you down for it, I’ll email all the bumf to you.”
“What if I…”
“What if you what?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Are you okay, Cathy?”
“Yeah, just a bit shocked about Freeman.”
“Yeah, but you will do the programme–it’s just what you need to get some publicity for your survey.”
“Yeah,” I said but my mind wasn’t on the conversation. “I have to go,” I said putting down the phone.
He died lunch time–had I killed him? If I had, what sort of monster was I? I sat there in a daze for probably half an hour when Stella came in.
“The girls have been calling you.”
“Yeah,” I said without hearing what she’d said.
“Cathy?”
“What?” I tried to summon up some concentration.
“What is the matter with you?”
“I don’t know.”
“C’mon, shake yourself.”
“Yeah, alright.” I said but continued to sit there.
“Cathy, what is the matter with you?”
I sat there with tears running down my face.
Stella bent over me, “What’s the matter?” she asked concerned.
“I think I might have killed someone.”
Comments
Why didn't Cathy
Why didn't Cathy just tell the girls that she shaved hers because Stella had also. Put the monkey back on Stella's back or lower.
Much Love,
Valerie R
winding up by Stella to a bit
winding up by Stella to a bit of news that shocks her, poor Cathy needs some down time to defuse.
May Your Light Forever Shine
I think I might have killed someone! ... ???
What!!!
Bee'ave guu-rl!!! So far the 'blue-light' has always required an element of physical contact or at least, very close proximity.
Cathy's just beating herself up over the sudden death of somebody she wished dead. Get over it Cathy. It's just pure coincidence.
Every one of us has known plenty of people we have wished dead, who have then gone on to die so what's the beef? Dying goes with the business of living and it's pretty difficult to avoid.
Amusing chapter though, just loved the tales from Brazil!
Still lovin' it.
Bevs
xx.
I don't think the blue light
has killed anyone. I can understand Cathy's concern but I doubt that her goddess would kill on her behalf.
Enjoyed the thought of the girls wanting to shower with Cathy to check on her hair.
C'mon, Cathy!
Things are not as bad as you think. I just re-read the portion of the last episode about Freeman, and at no time did she make any statement concerning Freeman. So, if she did kill him, it was her subconscious that did it, and that brings up a whole new plate of worms, doesn't it?
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
Try this chapter
Sounds pretty straight-forward and direct to me.
"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin
The question...
The question is... DID she? Or, as is more likely, as she was thinking about him, got an inkling of what happened, and it came out the way it did in her thoughts.
If Cathy's learning to FINALLY reduce the amount of talking the piss, it'll be a good thing, IMO... Far to often, it's lead to misunderstandings and hurt.
As to shaving down there? Does it itch? Post op, I dunno... Pre-op, yeah...
Thanks,
Annette
Timing, Timing...
Timing is everything. I believe the record will show that the good professor kicked it a good half hour before Cathy got it in her head to wish him ill. Perhaps sister Stell can roust up a copy of the death certificate.
After all the times
Cathy and the family have been attacked since she became "gifted", the Blue Light decides to kill an old man after a casual wish? I doubt it.
Then again, if Cathy wants to get out of the Dormouse business, she has a future as a SIS assassin.
At least she has something to worry about other than her status as a "real" woman and Mother.
Bear
I have a feeling that was more prophesy
Than cause. Cathy occasionally does get glimpses into the future.