The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1957 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“’Ello,” said Livvie snatching the phone off the base before I could move. “No, I don’t want to buy insurance, go away.” She turned towards me, “He asked if I wanted to buy insurance.”

“I think we got that far by ourselves, Liv, I replied wrapping her in a hug as she clambered back into the bed. I glanced at the clock, either it had stopped or he rang from abroad because it was just coming up to seven o’clock. It hadn’t stopped as I heard the pips on the radio alarm as the seventh hour arrived. And John Humphrys and Evan Davis started to chatter about news stories. I leant over and switched it off. The consequence of this was that we all fell back to sleep and didn’t wake until half past eight when the phone rang again.

Once again Livvie grabbed it, I was too dopy and yawning. “’Ello,” said Livvie loudly and I yawned again, and I don’t know if everyone is the same, but when I yawn I can’t hear anything clearly. “It’s for you, Mummy,” she repeated and sighed as I asked to repeat what she’d said.

I sat up and took the phone from her, “Hello?”

“Hi, Mummy, it’s Jacquie.”

“Hello, darling, you’ve caught me on the hop, we all went back to sleep.” I yawned again as if to emphasise the point.

“You want me to ring back?” offered Jacquie.

“Could I ring you in ten minutes, I need a wee.”

“Yeah, okay.”

I handed the phone back to Livvie to replace on the base and scrambled out of bed to the bathroom, asking Si to make some tea. He grumbled but I think he did actually get out of bed as I closed the bathroom door. I washed after emptying my tank and quickly threw on some clothes–my usual of jeans and top–scuffed on some slippers and dashed downstairs where Simon was just making the tea and trying to supervise the kid’s breakfast. I grabbed my mug and walked quickly down to my study and called Jacquie.

“Hi, Mummy,” she said after my greeting to her. “It’s like this, we can come for Sunday lunch but Jerry has to be back by four o’clock.”

“That’s fine, I can get David to cook for twelve or half past, can you get here for that?”

“Yeah, but no cross-examinations, okay?”

“Promise,” I said hoping that would do.

“Fine, we’ll see you at twelvish?”

“Okay, sweetheart, look forward to it.”

She rang off. I suddenly wondered if there was anything that Jerry didn’t eat, then decided I’d ask David to do a leg of pork, at least with a name like Geraldine, she wasn’t likely to be Jewish or Moslem.

After drinking my tea I returned to the kitchen where chaos was doing a better job of influencing things than Simon. In two minutes, well two minutes after I shouted and threatened to destroy all known life forms in the kitchen, the children sat down and started behaving like children who’ve been semi-civilised, rather than feral ones.

“And?” asked Simon.

“And what?” I threw back at him.

“Is she coming?”

“Yes, but Jerry has to go be back by four o’clock.”

“Oh, okay–did she say why?”

“No and I didn’t ask.”

“Okay, I only asked,” he said defensively.

I switched the kettle on again and made a pot of tea, Stella came down as I poured the first cup–I swear she smells it. I handed her one and she plonked herself down at the table and sipped it. I refilled Simon’s mug and finally my own–it was stronger than I really liked but I did wonder if the caffeine would help wake me up, I was still yawning.

“Jacquie is coming with her girlfriend,” Simon announced to the sleepy Stella.

“What, today?”

“No, for Sunday lunch.”

“What we having?” she asked.

“I thought a leg of pork.”

“Cann’ive cracklin’, Mummy?” asked Trish and they all wanted some, even Danny who seemed sleepier than ever.”

“Aren’t you playing football today?” I asked him.

“Nah, their pitch is waterlogged, been postponed.”

“Right then, you can strip your bed and shove it in the machine along with your towels, okay?”

“Okay,” he replied sullenly. Danny did not like doing ‘women’s work.’ I made him do some to show it wasn’t just women’s work but everyone’s job to help. To prove it I asked Si to strip ours and stick it in the machine as well. He recognised what I was up to and agreed to do it, thereby proving even adult males helped occasionally.

“The Six Nations is on at two, so do any noisy stuff before that, will you?” Simon asked in return for doing me the favour of stripping the bed.

Pushing my luck I simply suggested if he remade the bed after stripping it, I could get on with the vacuuming and his precious rugby would be safe from noise–except the lot he and Tom would be making. Astonishingly he agreed, so I asked Danny to make his up too. He sighed but agreed as well.

“I’ll take the girls out this afternoon and you can have the lounge to yourselves–just don’t make a mess in there or I’ll make you clean it up.”

“You watchin’ the rugby, son?” Simon asked Danny.

“Could do I s’pose.” Simon’s face lit up. “Who’s playin’?” Danny asked.

“Italy Wales, then England France.”

“Can I go into town, Mum?” asked Danny.

“After you’ve made your bed, assuming you’ve done your homework, yes. Be back by one for lunch.”

“Okay,” he finished his breakfast and went back up the stairs.

Just as I was eating my banana on toast, he yelled down the stairs, “Mum, where do I find the clean stuff?”

“Go and show him, Liv, will you?” She nodded and set off up the stairs to explain what an airing cupboard was for. His was easy enough to identify, it was in his beloved Chelsea FC colours of blue and white. Cost me a fortune last Christmas.

The rest of the morning was spent cleaning, I had the girls helping too, dusting and vacuuming while I cleaned the kitchen–mopping the floor before David came over to do lunch.

After an interesting lunch of ham and tomato omelette with a side salad, the girls accompanied me to town, Stella agreeing to watch Cate while we were out. I’d agreed a lunch menu with David for Sunday and he went off to get a large leg of pork from his butcher friend–no his friend wasn’t more butch than David, he worked as a butcher–you know, chopping up dead things–or is that a pathologist?

We went to the toy superstore and this time didn’t encounter any problems and Meems got her doll’s clothes–she spends her own money, too. Trish looked at some chemistry sets but decided she could get better mixtures of explosive substances online. She only said it to wind me up and my glare stopped the conversation with Livvie stone dead.

It was about five when we returned and the girls were as shopped out as I was. The boys were still watching the rugby, Wales had beaten Italy and Si was hoping France would beat England, then if Scotland beat Ireland–and pigs would fly–Scotland could share in the championship.

I went to speak with David in the kitchen, he’d gone but left us a lovely stew in the slow cooker and the potatoes and other veg were ready to cook on the top of the cooker. I switched on the gas under the potatoes and went up to change.