The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 2036 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I slept fitfully that night having discussed Danny with Simon until he fell asleep. It makes me cross that he can talk about very important things and then close his eyes and sleep as if he wipes his memory banks until the morning, whereas I toss and turn until exhaustion knocks me out. Such was my night and I suppose I eventually zonked in the wee sma’ ’oors. I know I was tired when the radio reminded me there was a world out there and despite my best efforts to keep it out there, it was knocking on my doors and demanding entrance.

It took a shower to wake me enough to focus my eyes on anything further away than about two feet. My eyesight is excellent, but my eyes felt like they’d been lubricated with carborundum. When the water suddenly ran cold I shrieked and nearly fell out of the shower. That certainly woke me up. The water then ran warm again but by that time I was standing on the bath mat and drying myself.

Dressing quickly I roused the girls and after supervising their showers, I set them off to dry and dress. I checked on Danny, he was lying in bed reading a Gaby book, which worried me a little. “You can stay home today but I’ll phone the school and get them to email me some work for you to do.”

“Okay,” he said without the slightest hint of enthusiasm.

“There’s nothing to stop you having breakfast with the rest of us, you know?”

“Are you working today, Mummy?”

“I have to do this morning–exam invigilation, why?”

“I wondered if we could have a bike ride together.”

“You’re supposed to be in school.”

“I know but sometimes going for a ride helps me to think, and I thought we could talk.”

“I’ll see; I have to go.”

After dropping the girls off I went to work and took my laptop and some work to do while I sat and watched a hall full of sweaty undergraduates wrestle with the papers and their consciences–they wouldn’t have to if they’d spent as much time working as they did down at the union. We try to support students with any sort of learning disability with the exception of laziness, the most common form.

It was a boring morning, and I spent half the time trying to stay awake, walking up and down between the rows of tables to try and energise my body–it wasn’t cooperating. Finally, the pinger went–I take my kitchen timer in with me–and I called for pens to be put down and papers checked for identifying names and numbers. Can you believe people forget to put them on everything they hand in.

At twelve thirty I’d sealed the papers into a large envelope and signed through the seal, then collected up my stuff, took the exam papers over to the office and went home. I was shattered and the last thing I needed was a bike ride but Danny asked again and appeared to have done all the work I sent him via the school. We had a sandwich and a cuppa then changed and got the bikes out.

He checked the tyres and brakes after I showed him what to do and he also pumped up the tyres which needed a bit of air, then we were off and heading towards Portsdown hill. Why we went that way, I have no idea but I just followed him so when he grumbled later I could tell him it was his own fault.

I think I was puffing and panting more than he was–it felt like I was so out of condition–but pure bloody-mindedness kept my legs turning the pedals. It was with some relief that I saw him stop at a viewing place and get off his bike. Sadly the ice cream van wasn’t in evidence so we had to make do with the drinks in the bottles on the bike, otherwise known as water.

We sat on the seat with the bikes resting on the back of it watching the view over the Solent and the ships coming and going–it’s quite a busy stretch of water.

“Mummy?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Would you still love me if I were gay?”

My tummy flipped and my eyes welled up with tears. “Of course I would, so would Daddy and everyone else.”

I waited for him to speak again. It was some time later that he added: “I don’t know if I am or not.”

At twelve I certainly knew I had the wrong body but was in denial or partly so. I didn’t have a clue about my sexuality so I could believe he wasn’t sure either or still dealing with the potential ramifications. “Do you want someone to help you work it out?”

“I don’t know at the moment.”

“Okay–there’s no rush–you’ve got the rest of your life to find out.”

“The other boys in school think I am because of what Peter done, you know, to himself.”

I felt like saying that their opinions didn’t matter, but they did. They had the capacity to make his life a living hell or tolerable. I suspected the former was more likely but said nothing.

“Peter was very upset and I suspect he regrets what he did.”

“He told me he didn’t regret it, he was proud did it.”

What? Is the kid some sort of loony?

“If he starts seeing girls he might well regret it.”

“He is a girl.”

“I think it takes a bit more than an accident to your wedding tackle to make you a girl.”

He shrugged.

“I hope you’re not thinking of a similar accident?”

He went pale and flinched, “No way. I might be gay but I’m not a girl.” Was that a Freudian slip or a hypothetical? Does it matter? Not one bit–not to me–but it might to Danny.

He said nothing much more so we rode home and I changed my shoes and went to get the girls. It was the Friday of a bank holiday weekend and half term; they’d be like bottles of pop–of the shaken variety. Danny almost offered to come with me but I didn’t encourage it, once the girls were with us no serious conversation could really take place without them chipping in. Don’t get me wrong, I’d have loved to talked with him but not in front of the others as I wouldn’t any of the others in front of him.

It’s astonishing that adolescents have such thin skin yet hurl abuse at each other with joyful abandon, but then adolescence is such a paradoxical time with more than its fair share of ironies.

The girls got into the car, “You goin’ for a ride, Mummy?”

“Um–no, just got back from one.”

“May we do one?” asked Trish.

“During half term if it stays fine.”

“It better had,” threatened Trish–but unless she knows more powerful magic than I do–she was peeing in the wind.

I was so engrossed in what was going on with Danny that they all shouted because I’d driven past the house again without noticing. Blushing I turned the car round and took them home.