The Daily Dogmouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2455 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“I can’t believe I work for a titled woman,” said Delia as I drove us all back from the restaurant. Daddy was still cross that he’d snorted Guinness all over his suit from my throwaway remark. Remembering that he had quite an important meeting that afternoon he made me run him home so he could change. We drew up outside the house and Delia said, “You live here?”

“Yes, it’s only a house.”

“It’s twice the size of my parents and they have a three bed detached house.”

“We did have to make it bigger when the children came.”

“How many have you got?”

“Let’s see, there’s Sammi, Julie, Jacquie, Danielle, Trish, Livvie, Mima, Cate, with Phoebe and Lizzie the latest additions.”

“You have ten children?”

“Yes.”

“But you can’t be older than twenty seven.”

“I’m thirty, but confess they were all adopted.”

“You adopted ten children?”

“No, it was eleven originally but one died from a brain haemorrhage.”

“Your husband must be very wealthy to afford to keep ten or eleven children.”

“The older ones support themselves.”

“You adopted older children?”

“Yes, Sammi is twenty two, Julie is twenty, Jacquie is twenty one, then Danni is thirteen, Trish and Livvie are nine, Mima is eight, Cate is four and Lizzie is coming up one.”

“How can you work all day with a one year old baby?”

“Jacquie is doing a distance learning degree, she babysits while I’m in work and in return, I pay for her degree.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Professor.”

“Well professors are allowed to be a bit eccentric.”

“Is Professor Agnew really your dad? I mean if your maiden name is Watts, why isn’t it Agnew?”

“He adopted me after my parents died.”

“But you didn’t change your name?”

“No, I was twenty two at the time and didn’t consider it was necessary.”

She sat there looking at me and the house, shaking her head every now and again. “Isn’t twenty two, too old to be adopted?”

“Probably, but he was so nice to me, more like a father than my biological one had been, and he told me I reminded him of his deceased daughter whose name was also, Catherine. She was killed years before by a drunk driver. His wife, who had MS died from a broken heart a year or two later.”

Tom emerged from the house. “Samantha is home, are ye no gang tae see her?”

I glanced at my watch, “Okay,” I stepped out of the car and invited Delia to accompany me. Sammi was seated in the kitchen talking with Jackie, while Cate sat on her lap and cuddled her. It was Cate who squealed, ‘Mummy’ and woke everyone up, making Delia shudder just a little.

I made the introductions and Sammi told me she felt so much better to be home. They’d been very nice at the hospital but home was better. She was going to do some work from home that afternoon if she felt up to it. I told her not to bother, the bank would survive another day without her.”

“I promised Daddy I’d try and do an update for their firewall.”

“You work for a bank?” Delia asked her.

“Yeah, Mum and Dad are directors.”

“Cameron—bank, jeez, that’s High Street, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, no big deal, someone’s got to own it.”

“But the Camerons are billionaires.”

“So—it’s only money,” said Sammi not realising that very few people could say that because they had such a good job or wealthy family.

“Yeah, only money,” she sighed.

I caught a small amount of he conversation but declined to get involved. Simon’s wealth had been a problem for me at one point, now I accepted because I couldn’t do anything about it. I stopped complaining about it once I realised how hard Si worked for his money and besides, he’d always had huge amounts in his family compared to most people, so it would be the exact opposite for him.

When Delia saw the photo of Stanebury Castle, looking like something from a fairy tale, part of me wished Danni were here to tell her all about it. I balked, feeling self conscious about the wealth that had created it earlier. I think I felt a degree of shame about it.

“Wow, my boss owns her own castle,” she repeated as she stumbled out to the car.

It’s nice to make an impression on people, especially a good one. I’m not entirely sure that opulence is necessarily a good one. I’ve become used to the material things around me including being able to do things ordinary people can’t—like chartering a private plane or helicopter if we need to. For most people that option isn’t available. At the same time I’m not materialistic, I do value things I have, like my bikes and the dormouse Si had made for me, but my children and the adults in the family are my most treasured things. I can’t say possessions because we can’t own another person, I’m not even sure we own animals, just have responsibility for their welfare.

“Do you stay at the castle every year?” Delia interrupted my reverie.

“Uh, sorry?”

“The castle, d’you stay there very often?”

“No, it’s cold and damp and costs a fortune to run. The last time I was there the daughter of an estate worker hanged herself over a dispute with her dad. It was very sad.”

“How awful.”

“It was, she’d become good friends with Danni and Danni was very upset about it.”

“What would make a young woman kill herself?”

“Lots of things including religious parents.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought that happened nowadays.”

“It does and it isn’t related to a single religion, all of them give instruction in tolerance but then practice very narrow forms where everything is criticized and retribution sudden and lethal.”