The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2445 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“There’s a wee gathering o’ thae clans outside yon gate,” Tom said as he sipped his coffee.

“Come to see how you’d vote, have they?” I teased.

“I think they micht be moore interested in ye, Cathy, as they wis takin’ aboot aircraft and extradition.”

“Oh bugger, someone has told the press, probably for thirty pieces of silver.”

“Cathy, I dinna ken which is worse, yer blasphemy or yer immodesty.”

“Well it’ll give you something to think about, won’t it?” I had bigger fish to fry and worrying about denting his god’s ego was low on my priority list. I don’t believe in men made gods, men are men and gods are imaginary. So how can you blaspheme a figment of someone’s imagination? You can’t insult something which doesn’t exist. Besides, I hadn’t intended to compare myself with Jesus, just an act of betrayal of one human to a group of other humans.

Simon had been watching the group growing outside the entrance way. He pointed them out on the screen of the CCTV. “Well, I’ve got to go soon.” I glanced at the clock, it was eight.

The younger children arrived and Livvie asked who all the people were. “Remember the little fracas on the aeroplane?” I asked her.

“When that bloke grabbed you in the toilet and Daddy bashed him?”

“Exactly that, well those people out by the gates are the press and they want a story about it.”

“Why? It was boring.”

Not to all of us, Livvie. “Yeah, I suppose it was.”

“Couldn’t see anything.”

“I don’t think there was very much to see.”

“What, Daddy decking someone, I wish I coulda seen it. Bang wallop, an’ he goes darn like a sack a spuds.”

“The word is down, Livvie, not darn.”

“Well, Mummy, darn sarf, thass wot we says.” She giggled and ran off before I could say anything. I did think about complaining to the school before realising she was winding me up, perhaps not the best time for it.

The cameras have sound recording and it transpired they’d decided to wait for us to emerge as they knew we would have to at some point and at the same time they knew we wouldn’t answer the gate. Simon was aware of this and said he had to brave them to get to his meeting. I watched Sammi and he stride out to the car before he opened the gates and blasting his horn at them he drove through them and off to his meeting, Sammi sitting alongside him possibly prompting rumours in the red tops. Oh well they’ll print what they want to and we’ll sue who we want to. Just think of it as keeping the lawyers in a manner to which they have become accustomed as much as protecting our name.

If they were still out there tomorrow they catch me leaving with a car load of girls going to school, or would they have given up by then? I spotted Jackson from the Echo, he’s been after me for ages but so far I’ve eluded him. I suppose the law of averages suggests he’ll get me one day, but I decided today was not the one.

Tom had changed into his working clothes, ie his university suit. He still had egg on the tie from weeks ago but his shirt looked clean though not ironed. I wondered if he’d worked on his own laundry while I was away because it didn’t look as if Stella had done any for him. He drove through them the landrover horn blasting at them as they jumped back from his on-rush.

An hour after they watched Tom leave they decided to take more direct action and began pressing the bell on the electronic gates. David had arrived and told them to clear off, there was no one of that name here. It was me they wanted, it was Jason they got, on his way to court.

In his legal outfit, mourning jacket with pinstripe trousers over white shirt and jabbo. I heard him ask them what they wanted. They wanted to talk to the hostage, then to my hubby for rescuing me, and was my life really in danger from Cortez. Jason explained it was all sub judice and he couldn’t possibly comment but that he’d give them some sort of statement tomorrow.

Tomorrow? Oh poo, I have to take the girls back to school tomorrow. Jason called in briefly and I answered his questions. He cobbled together a statement and translated it into legalese. It made very little sense but that was part of his plan. He drove off stopping at the gates to give them his latest document before rushing off in his Mercedes.

I glanced at the calendar and groaned. Livvie and Trish had dental check-ups scheduled today, at eleven, it was now half past nine. I sent them up to change and clean their teeth before doing so myself. Leaving Stella and Jacquie in charge of the children, we got into my car and drove down to the gates, they opened and I drove at them beeping and cursing them except they didn’t move. They knew I couldn’t run them over. David could see what was going on and called the police.

The two girls in the back thought it was funny at first but then became anxious as the throng enveloped my Jaguar. Now I couldn’t go backwards or forwards without running someone over.

The arrival of a police car eased the situation and we were let go by the crowd, most of whom didn’t look like they’d slept very long the night before. I honestly worried about how long they’d been waiting. I sent a text to Simon, who reminded me he was in a meeting—wonderful.

I dealt with the dentist, both girls had good teeth and needed nothing done, return in six months. That suited me fine. We went to Waitrose and bought a whole boot full of groceries and when we got home the reporters had all gone. I wondered if Henry had been involved but apparently not. It was Simon and I had to be at the hotel at Southsea for a press conference, so to look tidy. I felt like refusing for his last statement alone. However, I knew we had to grasp the nettle, I suppose he thought by taking the initiative we had some control over the outcome. For an intelligent man, he sometimes lacks common sense, but I had to go nonetheless. We came as a team and Jason would be there too, acting as master of ceremonies. Between us, I hoped we could cope with the situation and perhaps then they’d leave us in peace.