The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2424 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Two hundred and two dozen or four dozen, depending upon whimsical maths.

“Thank goodness you’re back,” Simon seemed sincere in his observation.

“Why, what’s happened?”

“Nothing, but I’m running short of cash to buy them off.”

“Eh?”

“I got them to do little jobs and promised to pay them.”

“How much?”

“A pound a job.”

“And how much have you spent?”

“Uh, forty ni—no fifty quid.”

“What?” I was flabberwotsitted, “What have you had them do?”

“You know,” clearly I didn’t or I wouldn’t have asked, “tidy their rooms.”

“You got them to do that for a quid each?”

“Not quite, I paid a bit more than that.”

Why am I not surprised? “How much more?”

“Four pounds—so that was a fiver each to do something I told them to do anyway.”

“You didn’t did you?”

“I’d hardly be saying so if I didn’t, would I?”

“No, I s’pose not, no wonder Trish and Livvie were high fiving it.”

“High fivering, I think you mean.”

“Cunning little minxes.”

“Dumb ol’ Daddy, might be more apposite.”

“Yeah, could be.” He actually blushed.

“What else did they con you on?”

“I had them helping David and Jacquie.”

“They like doing that anyway, I certainly don’t pay them.”

“They said you did.”

“They were using terminological inexactitudes,” I offered.

“What?” he said looking bewildered.

“Being economical with the actuality.”

“What—lying? They lied to me?”

“They deceived you, more I suspect as a game than any malicious intent.”

“I can’t believe they lied to me.”

“Excuse me a moment.” I went off in search of the miscreants and found them sharing out their loot. It was like something out of a very second rate B film, but they were so intent on their task they didn’t see me stroll in to their bedroom. They jumped visibly when I shut the door.

“Mummy,” exclaimed Trish, “You’re back.”

“Yes. Now I think you had better explain just what you’re doing.”

They all looked embarrassed. “Um, Daddy gave us some pocket money, I was just sharing it out.”

“You have pocket money every week, so you can give that back to Daddy.”

“But—we earned it,” she protested.

“How did you earn it?”

“We um—tidied the bedroom,” she glanced around the room.

“I asked you to do that yesterday—which is a condition of getting your pocket money, as you well know.”

“We hoovered and dusted,” said Livvie then saw my expression and looked at the floor.

“You do that to help me so I have more time to spend with you.”

“But he offered us money,” protested Trish.

“I don’t care, you get paid pocket money for doing the minimal amount about the house, you are not defrauding your father because he doesn’t understand the system.”

“I hewped Jacquie wiv Wizzie,” declared Meems.

“Were you paid for that?”

She nodded.

“I thought you liked helping with the babies?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“I helped David,” said Livvie in a voice that died away at the end of the sentence.

“Helping David is a treat, you don’t get paid for it, he rewards you by showing you how to do things, and you always get something nice to eat from him as treat.”

“No, sorry, Mummy,” she started to sniff and the tears started. In seconds the lachrymal epidemic had spread to the others and I had the three of them hugging me and begging forgiveness.

“It’s not for me to accept your apologies, you have to apologise to Daddy and give him his money back.

“All of it?” snorted Trish.

“Every penny.”

She sighed and then agreed. I made them wipe their faces and collect up the money then we went and found Simon. He was about to say something when I stopped him. That startled him a little but before he could say anything I leapt in and told him the girls had something to say to him.

“Oh, alright...” he was going to add something probably like, ‘and I have something to say to them,’ but my look silenced him.

“We’re sorry we took your money, Daddy,” Trish started and the other two enjoined. “We love you, Daddy, an’ didn’t mean to make you cross.” They then cried all over him and clung to his waist.

I watched the theatre of three girls completely manipulate Simon who was more embarrassed than they were. Of course he forgave them with a caution not to do it again. They went off red eyed but their apparent penance prevented further sanctions and he got his money back and to play the firm master of his house and all he surveys. All bovine excrement of course, but I left him to polish his ego while I went in search of something to eat—I was famished.

Simon sauntered into the kitchen as I was eating the casserole David had left for me. “I think that went rather well and my rebuke should ensure they never try it again.” I nearly choked on my chicken. How can someone with a master’s in economics or whatever his higher degree is in, not see the evidence before his very eyes. They ran rings round him—no bother. He was out manoeuvred so comprehensively if he’d been a merchant vessel, the three pirates would have taken his ship as well as his cargo while he congratulated himself that he’d negotiated a rowing boat to go home in. He had no idea. Is that just a man thing or simply that he doesn’t interact with them often enough.

“You can be so masterful at times,” I said without adding, ‘but this ain’t one of them.’

“I know, it’s part and parcel of being a man, you know.”

“Of course, dear; could you pop the kettle on, I’m gasping for a cuppa.”

“Jason not buy you one?”

“We had a quick coffee after we left the judge’s chambers.”

“How’d it go?” he asked making the tea.

“We can go on holiday but I have to promise not to shoot any other would be murderers for at least three weeks.”

“Really?”

“No, you great pudding, but I have to tell the police when I’m back.”

“Oh, so that’s not so bad then.”

“Simon, those bastards were firing live rounds at us, we could have died and I’m on bail for stopping them.”

“Word is they could both lose their balls.”

“Good, idiots like that shouldn’t be encouraged to breed.”

“They’re also looking to sue.”

“Let them, Jason can earn his money and I’m going to refuse to pay them a penny. They started it...”

“And you just happened to finish it—like you usually do.”

“Would you prefer I’d let them kill us?”

“Of course not.”

“Well pour the tea before it gets too strong and I’ll advise Jason.”

“He knows.”

“You told him?”

“Not entirely, their solicitor informed him of their intention to sue for damages from your excessive violence.”

This time I did choke. It would possibly have been easier if I’d killed them both—dead men tell no lies.