The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2481 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

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“For goodness sake just take a ruddy bowl, you silly girl,” I said angrily. Of course, said daughter burst into tears and ran from the kitchen.

“I’ll go,” said Danni and went after her sibling.

“What was all that about?” asked Stella.

“I’m just sick to death of them bickering about stupid trifles all the time.”

“It’s what they do, Cathy, they’re children.”

“I was thinking about the children in the third world, especially those dealing with the ebola crisis.”

“Yeah, can’t be much fun for anyone, but we’re not in Africa nor are we dying of some horrid virus, so c’mon, lighten up.”

“I wish I could help.”

“Send some money, it’ll help more than you could—remember, you can’t save the world—not by yourself.”

“No, I’ll need Trish to do that.”

Stella smiled, “Yeah, with the two of you it could be possible. So who is going to be Jane the Baptist and who is going to be...” Stella obviously has a healthy fantasy life.

Danni returned with Cate who was still sniffing but she sat at the table and ate her breakfast. The sun was shining and the weather was incredibly mild for the time of year, possibly reaching twenty Celsius by lunch time, given it was November tomorrow, it was astonishing.

I asked them what they’d like to do. They’d remembered it was Halloween and wanted to make pumpkin lanterns, all except Danni who wanted to go and see Cindy. At first I thought about making them walk to town and then carry back their own pumpkin, but it wasn’t feasible. I counted those who wanted to do some carving and it was seven plus both Stella’s. I got her to watch the kids while Danni and I drove to the supermarket where she’d help me buy and carry the gourds to the car, then I’d drop her at Cindy’s on the way home.

For one night’s fun, it proved more expensive than I’d realised. However, I’d promised they could do it, so do it they would. I swallowed my pride and paid out a small fortune for nine pumpkins. When I returned David was in the kitchen with a gang of girls who it seemed wanted him to help carve their pumpkins.

For one second I thought I felt put out, usurped by David, then I realised he was probably better at it than I would be and it was obvious he would enjoy doing it and thus gave me some time to play professor. We unloaded the car and before he could change his mind, I grabbed my bag and jumped back into the car and drove to the university where Delia was delighted to see me. I told her I had a maximum of two hours before they missed me. She laughed in reply.

With a cuppa in my hand, we replied to twelve letters, commented on two reports—not from this university—an article on dormice on the BBC’s website—I offered some more photos—and began writing a proposal for a film on the garden dormouse, for which Alan and I would need to go to Menorca to film. He was encouraging me to approach the BBC to commission it, I thought he had a lot of cheek—is it endemic in film makers? The two hours were up and I collected Danni and we went off home for lunch.

“Can Cindy an’ me go to town tomorrow?” she asked as we exited the car.

“I should think so, why?”

“Jus’ thought I’d better ask, she wants a new skirt.”

“For school?”

“No, to wear out.”

“I thought you all wore jeans or shorts or leggings.”

“Yeah, an’ skirts.”

“Yes, you can go but be back for tea.”

“Oh, I will, don’t worry about that.”

“And keep out of trouble.”

“What sorta trouble are we gonna get inta buyin’ a skirt?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Aw, Mummy, I’m not that bad.”

“I think before I agreed I’d need a value for that.”

“Eh?”

“Never mind, let’s see what’s for lunch, if it’s pumpkin pie, I’m leaving home.”

Stella knew I didn’t like pumpkin and for a moment she was going to suggest David made some, then had an attack of conscience—I know, psychos don’t have one—it’s really worrying.

The lanterns were most impressive and I said so. I tried to avoid choosing one over the others and declared everyone a winner. As a prize they got a choc ice after lunch.

They played in the garden after lunch, enjoying the last of the sunshine, then as darkness fell, we put tea lights into the lanterns and arranged them around the back porch to frighten off any evil spirits. What they didn’t know was Pippa was coming over with her two boys at half-past six, and we were having a party.

They did accept the chance to dress up and Stella and I helped doling out the costumes of witches and zombies and assorted vampires. The makeup took a bit longer but we made it to half six by a whisker. Talking of which, the squealing, oddly dressed children freaked out the cat who shot up an apple tree and refused to come down to the zombie who was calling her.

While we were sorting out the fancy dress, David and Jacquie put out the food as a buffet in the dining room, rolls, sausages on sticks, crisps, salad, fresh fruit and so on.

They played ducking for apples, messed up people’s makeup, they had a competition on Livvie’s Wii, danced, played musical chairs and Simon says. Only Simon was in London, stuck in a meeting until after eight. By the time he got home, the kids were ready for bed but wanted him to read to them, which he did, much to my surprise. I’d expected him to look to eat first but he went up and changed then sat and read to the girls. I was delighted by this show of domesticity though I knew it wouldn’t last, I allowed it to run its course. He’d eaten in town waiting for his train so wasn’t interested in the tuna rolls, but he did enjoy the coffee I made for him.

We cuddled up in bed before he dropped his bombshell—he was leaving me—well for two weeks. He was doing a course up in London which ran at his old uni over two weekends. He’d resisted it until he discovered some banking laws which weren’t instigated by our bank, but which no one had noticed. So before the financial authority discovered the omission, he booked himself and three of his senior managers onto it.

He’d just made the deadline providing the course actually ran, so he was relieved he’d made it. So was I, but I teased him until he fell asleep when his snoring then kept me awake. Oh well, such is life—or mine is.