The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2464 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

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“How did the film go?” asked Simon offering us a glass of wine. I declined, I’d be asleep for the rest of the afternoon if I drank now. Alan had one and I worried a bit about him driving home. To alleviate that, I switched the kettle on to make teas and coffees. Simon and Alan opted for coffee while Stella and I had tea.

Alan had answered Simon’s question. He said it was going really well and it had been suggested that the BBC might show it over Christmas. I wasn’t that struck on the idea save for getting money for doing it, as I considered Christmas to be a time when people fall asleep in front of the telly having indulged food and drink to the point of saturation. I’d have preferred they’d shown it at Easter when it might encourage people to go out into the countryside and see the wonders in real life that they say they enjoy on the television. The only problem being we’re so lazy these days we don’t do anything that requires effort or exercise. No wonder type two diabetes is like an epidemic. We’re eating and drinking ourselves into illness.

I’d agreed that I’d do a snack for tea—dinner having been the heavenly casserole at lunch time—so David could get some time off. He’d be off all tomorrow and Simon declared he’d booked us a table at the hotel to save me cooking. He can be very helpful when he actually thinks about things. Sadly, he tends not to much of the time.

I left Simon talking with Alan while I cleaned up the kitchen, Jacquie had done enough, Julie was doing her ironing, the youngsters their homework—I stipulated it had to be done before they could come to the hotel tomorrow. Phoebe was out with Daddy and the dog—they’d closed the salon early; it apparently was very quiet, Sammi was doing something for Simon on her computer and Stella was looking after the little ones.

Once I’d finished I made more tea and coffee and those who wanted it had some. Daddy and Phoebe came in just in time for a drink, so I poured them both some tea. She thanked me and said she wanted to ask me a personal question. We removed to my study.

“It’s a bit embarrassing.”

“You don’t need to feel embarrassed in front of me.”

“No, I know, but all the same it makes me want to cringe.”

“What does?”

“Accepting the thing.”

“Accepting what thing?”

“Some prize or other.”

“Where—at the college?”

“Yeah, but please don’t tell anyone.”

“Why ever not? I feel so proud of you. Come ’ere gi’s a hug.”

We embraced, “I’ve never won anything before.”

“Well then, it’s your turn now and I’m delighted.”

“I have to go and receive it in front of everyone, they have a prize giving day next week. Will you come with me?”

“Of course, when is it?”

“Thursday, I think—afternoon.”

“I’ll be there, would you like Simon or Tom to come as well?”

“I don’t like to ask, you’re all so busy.”

“What’s the prize for?”

“Best stylist.”

“Well done, kiddo, I’m really pleased for you.”

She started sobbing, “I wish Mum was here to see it.”

“She’d be as proud of you as can be.”

“I know,” she nodded, tears flowing down her face.

“Are you sure you want me to come—I’m not trying to replace her because no one could do that.”

“Yes, you’re my mum now, Mummy, and I really do want you to come with Daddy if he’s free.”

“I’m sure if he can come, he will, if not we’ll ask Gramps to deputise for him.”

“That would be nice.” She seemed to think for a moment and smiled ruefully.

“What’s the problem?”

“Oh nothing, but if you and Gramps come, I’ll have two professors supporting me—a hairdresser.”

“No we’re supporting you, our adopted daughter and granddaughter, who has shown she’s very good at whatever she applies herself to. We’ll be so proud and pleased to see you get your prize.”

“Thank you, Mummy,” she said before hiccupping and fleeing the room for a drink.

Julie had won best stylist as well but she declined to accept the prize so didn’t ask us to attend. She was worried that someone would see her picture in the paper and out her to the press. As that was her fear, I accepted it as a valid reason even though I felt cheated by it. Trish and Livvie get plaudits all the time because they’re very clever. Danni isn’t nearly so in an academic sense, but she wins fitba games and is sought after as a consequence. So I’m proud of all my girls. Talking of football, I suspect her suspension is over now, must ask her.
Alan eventually left after a sandwich and more coffee. He rang two hours later to say he was home safely, which relieved me. Memories of Des come to mind every so often and I think what might have been for Stella, even though he kept saying he loved me more—knowing full well I was still physically a boy, in one place anyway, at the start of knowing him.

I really didn’t know what I did or had that attracted these men, especially as they usually knew my history. Gareth was another who’d apparently wanted me but settled for Stella and he died as well. What do I do to them that condemns them to offer to marry Stella as a compensation for missing out on me. She’s the bio-female who can have children, I’m the barren one with the equivalent of Barnardo’s living with me. Life seems full of irony and at times makes little sense at all.

I was still musing on these things when Phoebe bounced in. “Daddy says he can come too.”

“You managed to ask him then?” Duh—ask a silly question.

“Yes, I caught him on his own.”

“Oh good, what d’you want me to wear?”

“Anything tidy, smart casual is fine.”

“D’you want me to wear a skirt or trousers?”

“Whatever you want, Mummy; I’ll have a skirt on but you wear what you like.” She bounced off again with a real spring in her step and I felt so pleased for her.

Minutes later Simon came in, “So wotcha think of our Phoebe?”

“I always knew she was a smart cookie, so it didn’t surprise me one bit. I’m just sad her real mum and brother won’t be there to see it.”

“These things happen, babes, oh by the way, Lizzie is clamouring for you.”

“Damn, she must be due a feed, since Jacquie has done most of the baby stuff, I’ve got out of the habit. Oh well, I suppose I’d better come and feed her.” I was almost tempted to say that it was a pity men didn’t have boobs, then realised some of us do.

Lizzie has a couple or more teeth which are like little razors, or feel like it when she bites down on my nipple. So far she hasn’t drawn blood but once or twice I suspect it was a close run thing looking at the bite marks in my flesh afterwards. So I wasn’t anticipating feeding her with the same degree of pleasure I had with Cate. However, it was actually quite pleasant this time as she restrained her desire to be a carnivore most of the time.