The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2418 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Simon was livid when I told him about my meeting with the detective inspector and he passed on his irritation to Jason who came round for dinner. After eating a delicious turkey casserole and strawberry cheesecake, we adjourned to my study.

I narrated the meeting as best I could recall it. He made notes. “This the same guy we saw before?” he asked and I confirmed it was. “That was outrageous, even if he changed his mind later, he had no right to accuse you of trying to cause your children to want to change gender. I’ll demand an apology.”

“I’m more concerned with him telling me I can’t go abroad.”

“What?” he gasped, “You’re on a hundred K bail, no one skips off for that amount.”

“I was planning on going for a fortnight.”

“Leave it with me, I’ll speak to the court.”

“I don’t want to have to report to a Spanish cop shop.”

He laughed.

“It’s not funny.”

“Thinking of you trying to make the Spanish police understand what you were there for might have been, especially if they don’t speaka da Inglesè.”

“This isn’t Monty Python’s flying bloody circus.”

“I went and saw that.”

“What the live show?”

“Yeah, totally brilliant, even at their ages.”

“So back to the matter in hand, can I rely on you to get the court to allow me to take my kids to Menorca?”

“As good as done, milady,” he said bowing.

“Thank you, kind sir,” I dropped a curtsey.

“Cathy, how could he pretend to see you as anything but female and gorgeous?”

“I accept that not everyone does.”

“But only the blind or the bigoted.”

“What if he’s both?”

“And remain a detective—bit difficult.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve had the odd blind cab driver.”

“You what?” he chuckled shaking his head.

“Carry on with your holiday plans, I’ll speak to the court and also to the plod.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“My pleasure, madam,” he winked and went off home, I followed behind and heard him thanking David for a splendid meal. It always pays to thank the cook

I spent the rest of the evening doing parental things, washing or ironing and then reading more Gaby stories to the assembled throng. Apparently there’s twelve of them and we only have eleven. How did they know that? Sammi told them, so how did she know? I’d have to ask her and order the latest one.

After a chapter they all went off to sleep—no it wasn’t that boring—they were relaxed and zonked. Danni then took the book to read, “Why did it have to be cycling, why couldn’t she have been a soccer queen?”

“Not everyone loves soccer as much as you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, but cycling—it’s such a naff sport, innit?”

She was trying to wind me up, she loves cycling almost as much as football, and it was her who sat with me sewing as we watched both the Commonwealth road races and the London race last weekend.

“Yeah, anyone who rides a bike is pretty naff, especially girls.” I agreed upping the ante.

“But you ride.”

“Think I’ll give it up, too naff.”

“Ha ha, you’d cut off your leg first.”

“That could make cycling a bit difficult.”

“What could?”

“Cutting off my leg.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It was you who said it, not I.”

“No I didn’t—did I?” she blushed and looked five years younger. You really wouldn’t know this child used to be a boy, so quickly have the hormones transformed her. Yet when she was one, I didn’t think of her as feminine, strange how perception changes with experience.

“You said I’d rather cut my leg off than give up cycling.”

“Did I? But it’s true, isn’t it?”

“I’ll answer that if you’ll answer a question for me.”

“Okay—was that the question?”

“No, was that yours?”

“Grrr,” she growled at me, “no wonder Daddy’s so strange living with you, Mummy.”

“I think you’ll find he was strange long before he met me, though of course he won’t admit it.”

“I love you, Mummy,” she said and suddenly hugged me sobbing in my arms.

“Oh, sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

“Those two men with guns, they were so frightening. They scared me half to death.”

“It’s okay, they won’t ever frighten you again.”

“How d’you know that, Mummy?”

“Because I intend to see they go to prison for a long time.”

“But they’ll get out and maybe come looking for us.”

“I won’t lie, they could, but it’s very unlikely because they could end up in prison again.”

“They must have known that before, yet they wanted to hurt us—why? We didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

“I don’t know if they thought things through properly before. They’ll certainly have some time to do it now, besides, they came off worse and that was without any proper weapons. That we have Gramp’s shotgun and my bows, they shouldn’t be too difficult to persuade to leave.”

“If Daddy’s here we’ll be safe,” she said seemingly ignoring my part in their rout.

“I expect so, now how about an early night?”

We hugged again and she went off to bed with the Gaby book. She didn’t stay there, about two she wandered into our bedroom and I left her to cuddle with Si while I went to sleep in her bed. Once I got off, I slept quite well—no snoring.

I hoped that this wouldn’t last too long because it was going to play havoc with my sleep, not to mention doing little for Simon’s reputation if anyone found out he slept with his thirteen year old daughter. If it happened again, I’d get the folding bed put up in our room—not an ideal solution, and it would play hell with our sex lives.

I heard Simon and Sammi leave, returning to my own bed to have a short cuddle with Danni who was fast asleep. I was soon back asleep myself and I awoke two hours later with a head like a bucket—a metal one, that had just been struck by a hammer. It was thus with some difficulty that I dragged myself into the shower while Danni went off to get some clothes from her own room.

“You’re late for brekkies, Mummy,” accused Trish.

“I overslept, all right.”

Trish burst into tears and rushed off from the table nearly knocking Tom over as she did so.

“Whit’s thae matter wi’ Trish?”

“She asked a silly question and received a silly answer.”

“Och, why d’ye nae gang an’ comfort her?”

“It was me she asked the silly question.”

“Och weel that explains it.”

I felt like slapping him, talk about judgemental. He went off after Trish and I decided they could sort things out between them. Quite honestly I didn’t actually care, I had bigger fish to fry.