The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1949 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Wake up, Mummy,” she hissed at me nearly pulling me out of bed.

I sat up and hissed back at her, “What’s going on?”

“Someone is trying to steal your car but if you’re not too bothered about it, I’ll go back to bed.”

It took a few seconds for the central processor to warm up, “What?” I almost shrieked and scrambled out of bed and picking up the phone en route to the window, I dialled triple nine and asked for police.

As I spoke to someone in the police control room, I peeped out between the curtains. He was still there, though quite what he was doing, I couldn’t see. He was wearing a thickish coat, like a donkey jacket, under which he wore a hoodie which covered some of his face. On his legs he wore jeans and below that I thought I glimpsed trainers.

The police were on their way. I just tried to keep him in view, though it was so tempting to chase him off. Instead I pulled on some jeans and jumper over my pyjamas. Then I noticed there was a second one. This one in just the hoodie and jeans. I scuffed on my shoes.

The police car came flying into the close with just blue lights flashing–it was well after midnight. The two men spotted them and started to run for it. Two police jumped out of the car and chased after them and I went down to see if I could assist.

The one would be thief was quickly subdued but thief number one, was dancing out of the reach of the police officer. The copper lunged forward and it was then I saw the flash of silver and he was stabbed by the villain. He staggered about for a moment and fell heavily, the thief almost dancing triumphantly as the copper lay bleeding on the ground.

It was at this point I got involved. I needed to do two things. Disable him and get to the injured policeman. I told Trish to call an ambulance and I grabbed my father’s walking stick, a stout length of ash, quite a hard wood yet reasonably light. It had the customary hook on the end for a handle. I ran straight at the gloating thief who was probably on some sort of drugs the way he was waving the dripping knife around.

Policeman one was still trying to cuff his quarry, so it was essentially up to me. I confronted the thug who waved his large bladed knife at me. “You’re next, bitch,” he sneered.

“Maybe,” I responded and we circled each other, him slashing wildly at me and me standing well clear. What happened next caught us both by surprise as Trish sneaked up behind him with a bucket of water and threw it over him. He jumped in shock and spun round and I whacked him on the wrist holding the knife which he dropped. I then caught him in the guts with the end of the stick and finally delivered a high kick to his chin which laid him out.

Trish was back at the house giggling, I presume with nerves–she has more than I do. The other cuffed the dazed knife wielder while I looked at his colleague. He was dying, and there was so much blood around it was easy to see why. The poor chap had been stabbed through his vena cava, the main vessel bringing blood back to the heart. He was unconscious and gurgling rather than breathing.

I pulled off my sweater and tried to use it to staunch the wound although it was the internal bleeding which was worse. Throwing all the energy I could into him, I felt a huge surge flood through my body and he actually opened his eyes, tried to sit up, screamed and fell back.

I saw his colleague standing looking at me with his mouth wide open doing an impression of goldfish. He seemed unable to move. A second surge happened when Trish came to help me and I smelt burning as the light attempted to weld his vessel back together. His chest rose and fell and continued to do so showing he was breathing on his own–though quite what he was using for blood, defeated me. Ugh, I was kneeling in it.

The ambulance arrived with a second cop car. “What happened?” asked the new arrivals. The goldfish copper, whose name was Pete, shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

The two villains were bundled into the second car while the injured police officer, who was called Doug, was trundled off in the ambulance.

Somehow, the shocked copper, Pete, came into the house and I asked Livvie who was now awake to put the kettle on and to bring me some clean clothes. I changed in the downstairs loo and flung my clothing into the washing machine on a cool wash after rinsing them out. So much for looking cool at the BBC–those were my designer jeans in the wash.

“What were you doing to Doug? What was that light? For a moment I thought another car had arrived. You saved his life, didn’t you? Who are you and what are you?”

“I have a gift which sometimes enables me to heal people. It isn’t controlled by me, it comes when it wants and today it came–another time it won’t. Your friend was lucky it answered my call–he should have bled to death.”

“I thought he was dead until you knelt over him.”

“Not quite, but I managed to stop the bleeding–the knife caught quite a big vessel.”

“They’ll see that in hospital, won’t they?”

“No, they’ll see the minor vein which was also cut and which produces plenty of red stuff but they can sew that one up. They won’t know about the big one, just tell him how lucky he was. I need you to keep this between us.”

“I can’t do that, I’m duty bound to report what happened.”

“If you do say what you saw, you’ll probably destroy my life and that of my children–is that what you want?”

“No, of course not.”

“I also won’t be able to help people because my life will a perfect hell of pursuit by others looking to be healed. I can’t save them all, even Jesus couldn’t do that.”

“I don’t know, you’re asking me to withhold evidence.”

“No, I’m asking you to consider your own son.”

“What’s he got to do with this.”

“He had cerebral palsy, didn’t he?”

“How d’you know that?” he looked very agitated.

“I know, let’s leave it at that.”

“Don’t you harm him.”

“I haven’t, but the energy picked up your thoughts about how you’d have loved him to be whole and wonder if I could sort him. I have but it won’t last if you tell anyone about what you saw tonight, other than the thug trying to kill your friend and my stopping some of the bleeding.”

“You’ve cured Chris?”

“I didn’t, the love you have for him and your help for me tonight has.”

“How do I know you’re not conning me?”

“D’you honestly think that?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Good, I have more good news, your father’s arthritic hip has healed itself. Now, let’s have another cuppa and do this statement, shall we?”

He left an hour later promising never to tell anyone what had happened or how his family had received some miraculous cures. I didn’t tell him his wife’s ovarian cancer had also been zapped–neither of them knew about it and I think it might have pushed him over the edge. As it was he went off in something of a trance which I suspect the energy might have helped him forget one or two things he saw.

It was after three when I got back to my bed which was occupied by two aliens who snuggled up to me before I managed to get back to sleep.