The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2184 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Whit’s goin’ on?” gasped Tom tying his dressing gown as he rushed over to me. “Ma god, hen, yeve cut yer heid.” He grabbed the tea towel and I held it to my throbbing skull.

“I think someone is hurt outside, Daddy.”

“Whit?” he opened the back door and whatever he saw he shut it and dashed off to the phone. “Aye fire brigade an’ ambulance. Nimber o’ casualties, aye, possibly three, ain wi’ heid injuries, anither twa wi’ unknown injuries.” He came back to me, “Thae cavalry's on its way.”

“Is Simon alright?” I asked feeling my head begin to swim.

“I canna tell ye, hen, I’ll jest gang an’...” I heard before it all went black.

I came to in the back of an ambulance. Simon was sitting beside me and judging by the way that I was bouncing round, the thing was moving quite quickly.

“Wakey, wakey, sleepy head,” he said and smiled at me.

“God my head hurts,” I groaned before closing my eyes again.

“Try and stay, babes.”

His voice seemed to be coming through a deepening wall of water, distorting, washing over me, the words becoming just sounds with no meaning except it was his voice. Suddenly, I was swimming amongst his words or the sounds of his voice and it felt quite liberating and certainly different. I loved this man with my whole heart and now I was swimming in his words, words of love–he thought I was dying, maybe I was–the only thing it didn’t do was frighten me, oh and the pain, my head felt like I’d had the top of it cut off with an angle grinder.

I was floating when I knew they were in the hospital, trying to shove lines into my veins and organise a scan to see how badly my head was injured. I wasn’t worried, Simon was alright, that was my first concern–my kids would be safe, so what happened to me was secondary–and I was thinking this while a surgeon stood looking at a CT scan wondering if he could get to the bleed I had behind the frontal lobe without damaging my brain.

The story, or so it goes, at least that what they told me, is that quarter of an hour after that scan while they waited for my blood pressure to come up enough to operate, I received two visitors brought into the cubicle by Ken Nicholls. “You’ve got ten minutes, maximum,” he hissed.

“Mummy, please come back to us, we need you,” pleaded a voice that sounded a bit like Trish.

“Mummy, look for the light, we’re both sending it to you–please follow it, please come back to us. Follow my voice, Mummy, and I’ll bring you safely back home. It’s there now, follow the star–please, Mummy, find it and follow it, please.”

My thoughts were confused. Here I was in an absolute surfeit of stars, millions if not billions of them. Which one did they mean?

“I love you, Mummy,” I heard Trish’s voice and I saw the most amazing thing a star that appeared to be made of rose quartz appeared and glistened and my search was over. I floated towards it and her voice got louder and LOUDER and LOUDER and my whole body seemed to hurt but most of all my brain seemed to be on fire. I know I screamed–then the pain stopped and I felt a coldness and as I slipped away into blackness again I heard other voices, several of them but they were drifting away from me.

Apparently, Ken Nicholls and the neurosurgeon, Mr John Adamson argued over giving me another scan until Adamson gave way when Nicholls threatened to push me to imaging himself. They did the scan and found the bleed had mysteriously stopped and the haematoma had reduced in size by a half and seemed to be shrinking spontaneously.

Ken Nicholls told me later that Adamson nearly fainted when he saw it happening before his eyes. He agreed to wait to operate until the next morning but if anything worsened, I’d be airlifted to Southampton. I was one lucky bunny.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the injury was in my hairline so I wouldn’t have a scar–not that either Julie or Trish would have allowed that to happen to me, and the next day–school was cancelled–Trish came and zapped me again and the scar shrank until it was almost invisible.

According to Julie, they each grabbed a hand and also held hands, using the energy emanating from me to heal me–I don’t quite understand unless it just happened because I was in a place of need and the energy simply followed me and flowed from me. By each holding me and then holding hands they had it almost trapped and it flowed through me faster than it would normally have done. Wonderfully, that idea came from Julie not brainbox.

I was discharged the next day–there was nothing wrong with me–even the scars on my wrists disappeared as Trish held my hand while we walked to my car where Simon was sitting smiling at me.

“What happened with the tree?” I asked seeing a gap behind the garages.

“Yes, that tree–um–it’s in the woodshed.”

“Why?”

“It sort of fell on David’s new car.”

“I heard a scream, I think.” It was all rather hazy.

“That was David yelling for me to jump clear, but it was too late and the branches knocked me down which was when Tom saw me. I was only winded and able to come to the hospital with you.”

“Did you? Sorry, I can’t remember.”

“Don’t worry, babes, but you did promise me you’d have sex with me every night when we got home.”

Trish burst out laughing at this and he told her not to repeat anything.

I told him I was only unconscious not out of my mind. “What happened with David’s car?”

“I found him a new Astra for a bargain price, he’s okay about it–the old one was a write off.”

“But he’s only had it a couple of days,” I squeaked.

“Yeah, I know that’s longer than you usually have them but...”

“But what?” I squeaked even higher.

He roared with laughter and Trish did too.

“Pig,” I spat at him before I too chuckled.

We went into the house and Danni and Meems bounced round me while Livvie put the kettle on–glad to see one of them knew what to do. Stella wandered past and asked how I felt then Jacquie came carrying the vampire bairn with Cate escorting them. Ten minutes later, I had the infant breast chewer in situ with a cup of tea on the table beside me.

“Where’s Julie?” I finally noticed she was missing.

“Had to go to the salon, one of her stylists couldn’t get in so Phoebe and she went to open up and sort things out,” explained Sammi. She couldn’t get to London as the trains were almost all cancelled through debris on the lines–mainly bits of tree.

“The responsibilities of office,” I sighed.

“Well she’s a small businesswoman now,” offered Simon.

“I know and I’m very proud of how she’s grown with the role.”

“She’s a good kid, and a canny businesswoman.”