The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2992 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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The drive to Reading is tedious at any time of the day, in the early morning it’s even more so. To begin, Danielle did not want to wake up–silly girl was fiddling about with her football boots when she should have been in bed. I mean how was I to know the studs screw out of them? She took them out to clean them up, apparently, then cross threaded one of them putting it back in. We had to get Simon to undo it, neither of us were strong enough–which annoyed me more than a little. She was in tears–I don’t know why, she’s got about four pairs of them–because they were the pair she needed and just had to wear at the training session. She nearly became hysterical at one point and I was very close to slapping her.

Simon saved the day, or should that be night? He undid the offending stud and with a bit of the usual brute force and ignorance, managed to wangle it back in. By this time Danielle was a hot and bothered lump of teenage misery and I decided if she was to sleep at all I needed to calm her down.

That took quite a while so by bedtime I was absolutely knackered and I suspect Danni was similar though she’d been in bed an hour before I managed to complete all the things I needed to do that night. Then Bramble had a silly five minutes and I nearly fell over her when I was carrying the laundry basket, so I shouted at her and she disappeared. I knew where she was, up with Trish, who is her favourite. All the girls love her, but she likes Trish the most and that girl can do almost anything with her.

Back to the drive to Reading, it was uneventful and during it I discovered the training thing was a one day affair, so rather than go home and return that evening, Hannah and I stayed in or around Reading and I decided I’d indulge in a little retail therapy. I’d let Simon know what was happening but rang off before he could say anything in response to it.

I’m not especially racist but it is noticeable if people wear their own country’s dress, unless it’s European or American, I will recognise the wearer as foreign. We saw one chap in what was obviously Middle Eastern garb, not quite the archetypal Lawrence of Arabia outfit, more matching skullcap and nightshirt type appearance. Women in burkahs were another obvious giveaway as being foreigners or at least having come from a foreign culture. Even Hannah noticed it, though I hadn’t said anything to her in case it made me look racist or encourage it in her. When the numbers of foreign bodies appear to outnumber the locals, it’s hardly surprising that the locals complain about being overrun, yet the reality was, they weren’t being anything like overrun, they were just more visible.

We passed a pair of women with headscarves and several children, it seemed that the faithful were very fecund, a point which slightly worried me as an agnostic and possibly should worry secular Europe. Godbotherers are fine so long as they keep to religion and out of politics but sadly, for some the two are synonymous.

We entered the shopping mall and I asked Hannah if she’d like something to eat as I was feeling a little hungry, banana on toast can only last so long. We ended up in a small cafe where all the staff except the owner appeared to be Polish, not that it was a problem as their English was adequate to good. It was well after nine, so I took the plunge and opted for a full English breakfast and Hannah agreed and ordered the same. We both opted for tea to drink.

Why is it that they bring the drinks hours before the food arrives? If like us, we were having hot drinks, by the time the food arrives, the drinks are either finished or cold. I asked them to delay the teas until the food was cooked, which confused the waitress slightly. The owner looked a little miffed as well—someone was challenging his routine. However, I stuck to my guns and chatted with Hannah as we waited for the bacon and eggs to be cooked.

It must have been about fifteen minutes when the food arrived and I requested the teas. The food was all right, I’ve made better myself many times. It was hot and just about cooked; bacon and fried eggs with fried bread and few beans. Oh well, it wouldn’t prevent me enjoying lunch. Hannah seemed to enjoy hers seemingly unaware of the paucity of goodies on the plate and the tea was fine, so there was a saving grace, just about.

I don’t like to think of myself as a snob, and I’m aware that cafe owners have a living to make but I felt the food had been very basic in terms of quantity and variety. I’ve had far better food in transport cafes and at a better price but half an hour later we were moving on from the cafe and the experience, oh and the toilets were old but clean, I was relieved to see, no pun intended, not that you’ll believe me.

Hannah needed some new jeans so they became the first priority and we got some which she liked and which fit her slim figure. As they also had some obscure designer label, she was doubly pleased. I got her sisters some new socks and panties. We continued our retail prowling looking at all sorts of clothes and accessories. Some hair bands joined our bag of plunder and I treated myself to a new shower cap, which made Hannah smirk.

“Is that all you’re having, Mummy?”

“I have plenty of clothes so I don’t need to buy them for the sake of boosting the economy.”

She gave me a bemused look before returning her attention to rails of clothing. Hannah rarely wears a dress appearing in jeans or shorts when not in school uniform. So when she saw a dress she wanted to try on, I was a little surprised. We got the right size and off she went to the changing rooms to try it on, having handed me her little backpack.

Trainers were hardly the most suitable accessory for a floaty summer dress but she looked absolutely delightful in it and she knew it. This girl was developing a style which was getting more girly as her body edged towards puberty. Of course, we had to get some girly sandals to go with it and she knew exactly what she wanted there as well. It was in the third shop we found them, a delicate duck egg blue which highlighted the background of the dress. I was really pleased for her and told her so.

“Ingrid wouldn’t have allowed me to have both, so I’m really glad you’re my mother now.”

“I hope that isn’t just because I indulged your fashion sense?”

“No, Mummy. Well it is partly. She’d never have told me that she liked my choices let alone paid for them. You did, and that made me feel good.”

“I’m glad, because you’ll look good as well. Oh look, there’s a bracelet pretty well the same colour.” With that we entered yet another emporium but the drudgery of shopping had evaporated as I realised she was really enjoying herself.