The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 2041 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“So what did Gloria want?” enquired Simon as we snuggled in bed.

“Oh, storm in a teacup, you know.”

“If I knew would I be asking?

Knowing him, yes. He knows where his socks and underpants are kept but he still asks me. “She and Neal had a bit of a row and he went walkabout.”

“Haven’t they got a new baby?”

Well strike me pink! “How did you know that?”

“Phoebe mentioned it the other day, I got the impression she wasn’t too enamoured of Neal and Gloria as parents.”

“I don’t think sixteen year old girls are easily impressed by anyone over twenty five unless it’s the latest boy band.”

“Were you into boy bands at that age?” he asked.

“Not especially–well, take that were okay I suppose, or the Stylistics, but I’d just as soon go to a symphony concert, but not Stockhausen.”

“I see some guy offered Abba millions to reform–if they did I’d go and listen.”

“It’s not going to happen, is it?”

“No, sadly.”

“Just think how much money the Beatles were offered to reform, multi millions.”

“If they could do it now, that would be a trick worth megabucks,” he said with a laugh in his voice.

“Very funny–I meant before that idiot shot Lennon.”

“D’you remember it, then?”

“Remember what?” I asked.

“When that Chapman bloke shot Lennon?”

“Hardly, it was before I was born.”

“I barely remember it and I was five–Dad got quite upset and had to explain that someone whose music he liked had been gunned down in New York because they allow any nutter to have a gun over there.”

“I think we’ve discussed guns in the States before.”

“Yeah, two percent of the world’s population, fifty percent of the guns.”

“You don’t need guns to kill people, two women die per week from domestic violence in this country, I doubt too many of them are shot.”

“You don’t think Gloria’s at risk do you?”

“I doubt it, Neal may be a bit insensitive but he’s not the violent type.”

“I see they convicted that bloke up in Machynlleth for the murder of that little girl, did you know she had cerebral palsy?”

“No, have they found the body?”

“Nah, he’s disposed of it possibly even burned it, they found skull fragments in his wood burner.”

“Her poor parents, at least we had a body to grieve over–how can he not tell them where he dumped her?”

“Because he’s a prize bastard, and he likes playing mind games. Give me five minutes with him and I’ll find out where she is.”

“Simon, you’d happily kill him, wouldn’t you?”

“Yep–can’t abide his sort–paedos who kill.”

“Simon, wouldn’t that make you just as bad?”

“No, I’d be acting for the common good not to satisfy some perverse desire.”

I wasn’t convinced but said nothing. About ten minutes later just as I was drifting off nicely to sleep the phone rang. I grabbed at it to stop it waking the children.

“Hello?” I said sleepily.

“Cathy, it’s Gloria–I don’t think she’s breathing,” the voice was Neal’s and he sounded frantic.

“Check for airways and start CPR–oh, call an ambulance first, I’m on my way.”

I leapt out of bed suddenly wide awake. “Where are you going?” asked Simon.

“That was Neal, Gloria’s been taken ill.”

“No more babies–okay?”

I was too busy to argue pulling on jeans and a sweatshirt then socks and trainers, before rushing downstairs, grabbed my bag, a jacket and car keys and ran down the drive as fast as I could. Thankfully, I’d left the gates open when we came back from Neal’s so I lost no time there. I drove as fast as I could–certainly more than the permitted maximum but I was lucky, there were no speed cops about and I passed no speed cameras.

Within ten minutes from the call I was walking into Neal and Gloria’s house, or running might be accurate. “Neal? It’s Cathy, where are you?” He called from upstairs and I simply followed his voice.

Upon entering the bedroom I saw Gloria lying on the bed, her lips were blue. “Where’s the ambulance?”

“I didn’t call it.”

“Get it now–but help me get her onto the floor first.”

“What for she’s gone,” he began sniffing and whining and I slapped him sharply across the face.

“Help me,” I demanded and he reluctantly assisted me to get her on the bedroom floor. “Call the paramedics–well go on.” He looked at me in a daze and then walked out of the bedroom to the phone, I could hear him speaking.

While he was doing this I was hoping I still had some of the blue energy with me and felt it coursing through my body and into hers. That gave me an incentive to try and revive her, if the energy seemed to think it was appropriate who was I to argue?

“Hi, Gloria, it’s Cathy, c’mon girl, I need you to start breathing for me.” I pushed back her head to open the airway and began a couple of breaths, then it was bouncing up and down on her chest to Nellie the Elephant. Two more breaths, then another sixty compressions–bloody hell this is hard work.

“Get in here, Neal, start doing the breaths,” I ordered him and he knelt down and blew twice into her mouth. I went straight into chest compressions and the energy poured into her. Something was happening, I could feel the energy changing, she was either dead or her heart was restarting, I hoped it was the latter.

Blue lights flickered through the bedroom curtains and the sound of a diesel engine announced the arrival of the paramedics and in a couple of ticks they were dashing up the stairs laden with all sorts of bags of equipment.

“Thank goodness,” I sighed.

“Keep goin’,” said the first one, “it’ll take a minute to set up.

“Oh shit,” I gasped and did another set of compressions humming the tune in my head.

He cut her nightdress with some scissors from his belt pack and attached electrodes. Then he switched on his defibrillator. “Okay, she’s got some cardio, take a break.” A break? If I did any more compressions he’d be treating me for exhaustion–I was knackered, not to put too fine a point on it.

“What happened?” asked his mate, another of the green clad emergency team.

“She fell and banged her head,” said Neal.

“Where?” asked the paramedic.

“Against the wall over there.” Neal pointed to a section of wall near the bed.

“No, where did she bang her head, back, front, side?”

“Oh, I dunno, I wasn’t watching but it made quite a bump and she went out like a light.

“Okay, did she stop breathing?”

“I dunno, she might have, I called Cathy.”

“You should have called us first, Mr...?”

“Allen, Neal Allen.”

“BP’s very low, some CSF left ear.”

“Okay, immobilise then we’ll get her on the stretcher.” He ran off while his friend wrapped a collar round Gloria’s neck. I continued to send the blue light into her.

His mate returned with a stretcher and they lifted her onto the device and went to pick it up. “She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?”

The paramedic nodded, “You coming in the van or by car?”

“I’ve got a young baby here.”

“Go with them, Neal, I’ll take the baby back with me you can collect her later.” Simon will threaten to kill me, but what else could I do?

Neal went off in his car after the ambulance telling me to just slam the door when I left. I got the baby and made up a package of nappies and other clothes, food and some milk Gloria had presumably expressed earlier. I filled up the boot of the car with stuff, and as the baby was sleeping in a carrycot I placed that on the back seat of the Jaguar and put a seat belt round it. Then it was back to my house and the uncomfortable feeling that Gloria didn’t fall, she was pushed.