The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2316 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

She was quite ill for a day or two but when she came round, Simon presented her with a copy of the report in the Echo and she was pleased as punch with that. Those of you who have either had or nursed pneumonia will know it can take weeks to recover. The football team were talking about ending her contract until I called their bluff and suggested we would talk to Southampton if they did, and get a better fee and prospects from them.

I had no idea if it was true or not but such is the rivalry between the two south coast teams, that they’d do almost anything to stop the other stealing a march on them. The other thing was that they wanted Danni’s talent, she was something special and I hoped one day she would play for England Ladies, she deserved to have something as a reward for all the trauma she’d received during her short life

It was also ironic that she spent her first holiday at St Claire’s in a sick bed, and with luck would be well enough to go back to school after the holiday. She had another two weeks or so to go. Cindy came round most days and spent an hour or two trying to cheer up her friend—which largely seemed to work.

It was towards the end of the first week that Cindy came up to me and asked if she could speak to me in private. I steered her into my study and shut the door.

“How can I help, Cindy?” I hoped I didn’t sound too much like someone from Asda.

“Have you heard the rumours?”

“Which ones are they this time?”

“About Pia.”

“Our little friend Pia,” I said ironically.

“She’s no friend of mine,” said Cindy in disgust.

“Regardless of that, what about her?”

“They reckon she tried to kill herself.”

“Where did you hear that?” I asked as I’d heard nothing about it.

“One of the girls at school, her dad’s a copper.”

“He’ll need to be careful or they’ll sack him for breach of confidentiality, especially about a minor.”

“I thought you’d be interested,” she sighed.

“Oh I am, and thank you for telling me, but please don’t say anything to Danielle”, I don’t think she’s well enough to hear anything about Pia.”

“I might not be a brain box like Trish or Livvie, but I’m not stupid neither.”

“I know jolly well you’re not stupid, Cindy.”

“Well just ’cos I don’t talk posh don’t mean I’m stupid.”

“Who has been calling you, stupid?”

“Several girls in school do. They used to accuse me of being a boy until Trish intervened.”

“Oh yes, I have a memory of being told about that—it was bit OTT if I remember.”

“I dunno, it was looking to get quite nasty.”

“I’ve never understood the proclivity of some young women towards violence. You didn’t hear of it years ago, so I don’t know why it happens now unless it’s to do with an upsurge in tribalism and youngsters forming gangs.”

I suspect my philosophical musings went over her head because she changed the subject. “Could she and Danni watch the Voice?”

“What’s that exactly?”

“It’s a singin’contest thing.”

“A talent contest?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“A reality talent contest?”I ventured.

“Yeah, it’s really good and has Kylie in it.”

“Kylie Minogue?” I clarified.

“Yeah, the little Aussie woman.”

“From Neighbours?”

“What she’s a neighbour?” asked an astonished Cindy.

“No, she made her name in the Australian soap, Neighbours.”

“Did she?” her enthusiasm was—um lacking.”

“Though I remember her as a waitress in Dr Who in a Christmas special. She died.”

“I don’t remember that one,” Cindy admitted.

“They were on some sort of space ship called the Titanic and it crashed into a meteor or some such thing, all I remember was she saved David Tennant’s life, so I could forgive her almost anything.”

“You don’t like that Scottish geezer, do you?”

“I’m afraid so,” I blushed.

“But he’s so old.” she whinged.

“I don’t think so.”

She looked at me as if I was some demented old biddy. I let her go and she went in to cheer up Danielle. I hope she did a better job than she did for me.

I heard the television on a short time later and when I looked the three mouseketeers were in watching it with Danni and Cindy. It was a repeat they’d found on Sky I suspect, because I knew enough to know it was usually on during a Saturday evening.

The weather seemed to have broken, or the nice spell we’d had and we were back to rain and strong breezes. Yep, it was a school holiday time, no wonder so many went abroad, even if it was a rip off, at least they had a chance of some nice weather.

David, him in the kitchen, had the day off so I was doing the lunch. Cindy told me after the Voice had finished, that one of the girls in school was going to Tenerife for the Easter hols. “We never seem to go very far at all, only to Auntie Marge’s at Eastbourne.”

“I took you to Scotland if I recall correctly.”

“Yeah, that was the furthest I’ve ever been.”

“You’ve got plenty of time to explore the world yet, Cindy.”

“I know, but I just feel ashamed I ain’t been nowhere.”

“You’ve stayed in a castle—not many could say that.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that—that was good fun.”

“I wish I was rich an’ famous like you.”

“Go to university, study some photogenic animal, preferably small, and become an expert; then make a film of said animal. The day after they show it, you can’t even collect the kids from school without people pointing at you.”

“That must be fab, being famous.”

“I’m afraid in my case, it palled very quickly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I was bored by it two seconds after it started.”

“What? I’d love it.”

“I’m not sure you would once you’d experienced it for a few minutes. It gets old very quickly.”

“I dunno, David Beckham seems to do okay, him an’ his missus.”

“I think David Beckham is very special.”

“What, you like him?”

“I’ve only met him once, but he seemed very nice then. For such a celebrity he is very grounded and I suspect his wife is too.”

“You’ve like met Beckham?”

“Once I think.”

“OMG,” she said, “can you like get me his autograph next time?”

“If there is a next time, I’ll try to.”

“Oh wow, your mum has met David Beckham.”

“Yeah, so’ve I.” Danni was travelling up the status ladder like a rocket.

“When?”

“He was signin’ books in London an’ Mummy took me up to get one. He was okay.”

“Did you kiss him?”

“No, I was still a boy then.”

“Oh, I wonder if he was a good kisser...” I shut the kitchen door at that point having heard enough of adolescent crushes. Mind you, he did seem like a nice bloke but I’ve got my Simon and I wouldn’t swap him for anyone, not even David Tennant or Colin Firth—well maybe for both of them...