The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2177 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The next day before David could say anything about his car, I told him I’d spoken to Simon who would help him if he wanted to borrow the money for a better one from the bank. At first I thought he was going to hit me and he bashed pots and pans about in the kitchen from which I removed myself post haste. I went to my study wondering why I bothered, the more you put yourself out the less people appreciate it.

There was a ring at the doorbell and moments later Jacquie told me the washing machine engineer was at the door. I had to think for a moment, it was working all right the other day, then I remembered he’d come to service it–it was still under warranty so I told her to show him the machine, offer him a coffee and while she was at it could she make me one–I was up to my armpits in emails about the mammal survey and the way the badger cull was going so wrong for the government.

Essentially they hadn’t listened to anyone who knew what they were doing. They hadn’t counted them properly beforehand so the figures were all wrong, that they’d killed too few meant those left were likely to flee the area and if infected take the TB to pastures new–quite literally, and also possibly infect ‘clean’ badgers. Then they had the nerve to suggest the badgers had moved the goal posts. Like they’d negotiated with them and the badgers were now reneging on the deal. If there was a prize for stupidity, then Defra would get it this year for certain, perhaps the Darwin prize could go their way.

I popped into the kitchen to ask the engineer how it was going and the two men were in earnest conversation about cars–David had obviously found someone else to whinge at or to. I grabbed my coffee and slipped away without either of them realising I’d been there. I drank my coffee and fed Lizzie who’d had a bottle earlier when Jacquie had fed her and I made a mental note to express some later for tomorrow.

The little one gurgled when she saw me and I forgot momentarily about idiots in Whitehall and did what I do reasonably well, nourished a young scallywag who practically sucked my knickers off. I thought Cate was bad enough, this one was worse than one of those Dyson hand driers.

Cate did actually toddle in while I was feeding Lizzie and she stood watching and chuckling to herself, “Mummy’s titty,” she kept saying and chuckling. I hoped she wasn’t going to be like Puddin’ who had picked up some really choice phrases which would make a bishop blush and probably the average stevedore as well. She was now saying a few more things though not the mindless repetition of her previous parrot phase despite Trish and Livvie trying to encourage her.

The washing machine engineer left and I heard the door shut and his van start up, it was quite mild still and my window was slightly open. The sun was shining and although there was a stiff breeze I decided after lunch I’d go for a ride and see if Danni wanted to as well.

David banged a gong and we all got it on, as Marc Bolan would have sung and lunch passed. It was twelve thirty. I told Danni I’d thought of riding and she agreed. I told her she needed to have done at least half her homework by half past one when we’d go and change. She dashed back to the dining room and hopefully started her homework. I strolled back to my den when David called after me.

“Yes?” I responded as he hadn’t said anything except to make shifty glances at me and I knew he didn’t fancy me, I was far too conventional.

“About the loan–um–you said Simon could arrange.”

“What about it? You didn’t seem interested this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he looked everywhere but my face.

“You want one, I take it?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay, talk to him tonight when he comes in–have you found a car?”

“The washing machine repair guy, his wife is selling one.”

“Don’t you go and test drive them first?” I had no idea never having bought a car.

“Oh yeah, I’ll do that, she was going to advertise it and he stopped her until I’ve looked at it.”

“What is it?”

“A Vauxhall Astra, it’s seven years old and only done forty thou.”

“Sounds good, how much?”

“He said I could have it for three grand.”

“Sounds very good, take your mobile and text Trish when you look at it, give her the number and she’ll run a check to see if it’s been blacklisted by insurers or whatever.”

“An eight year old can do that?”

“Only if you ask her.”

“I don’t believe this family.”

“Oh, what’s wrong with it?”

“Absolutely nothing, they are the best bunch of people on this godforsaken planet.”

“Do I take that as a compliment?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good, I’m going to change for my ride now.” I called to Danni and we went up to change. I felt quite chuffed with myself especially if the car is a genuine bargain–it could be. I wonder what the engineer went off with in his bag from my kitchen in return.

After checking the bikes and adding some air to the tyres we set off. We only had an hour and I wanted a leg stretch with attitude. So after a mile or so of gentle warm up I indicated I was going to up the pace, Danni called okay and we doubled our speed.

We only got half way to Hayling Island before I decided we’d best turn back and we were then riding into the teeth of this stiff breeze which was gusting to nearly thirty miles an hour. It also blew over a huge black cloud and we were still ten minutes from home when the driving rain started and soaked us through as thoroughly as if we’d gone swimming on the bikes.

It was half past two when we turned into the driveway, dripping wet, or drookit as Tom would say. I was thinking far less polite things when the cold wet rain had worked its way into my shorts and they in turn began to chafe in places they were meant to cushion. Despite that we wiped the bikes down and stored them dry before we ran into the house cold and wet, although the sun had now decided to shine again–typical.

At three I was showered and mostly dry when I pulled on some trousers and a top to go and collect the mouseketeers. “That was brill, Mummy,” said Danni as I passed her room.

“What was, sweetheart?”

“The ride, I feel all zingy and alive now.”

“Oh good, well finish your homework there’s a good girl and keep it quiet–the others will be jealous.”

“Yeah, course.”

When I got back Danni was looking very pleased with herself. “What’s happened?”

“Eh?”

“You look very pleased.”

“Oh yeah, Auntie Stella asked me if I’d like her bike as a Christmas present.”

“What did you say?”

“Yes please, Auntie Stella.”

“Good for you. Right I must go and see where David is.”

“Oh he’s gone to look at a car.”

“What about dinner?”

“He’s left instructions on the fridge door.”

“For who?”

“You, I think, Mummy.”

“Did he now?”