Easy As Licking Yer Own Bum.
by: Bonzi
part: 383

I had been home an hour, Stella had come to collect me from the hospital. As soon as she left me alone, I was out to the garage and checking over my bikes.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" said a voice from the door.

"Playing with the spiders, why?"

"Ugh! I don't like spiders."

I knew this, which was why I said it. "Better stay out of here then."

"My bike had better not have any spiders on it," she said accusingly.

"Oh, it has hundreds, I've been taking them off mine and putting them on yours."

"You'd better not."

"Why, Stella Bloody Cameron, what are you gonna do about it?"

"I'll squeam and I'll squeam until I make mythelf thick, tho there!"

"Richmael Compton has a lot to answer for, creating that monster."

"I never read the books, just used to listen to the tapes that Martin Jarvis did."

"They were very good, they used them quite a lot on the radio."

"Radio, when did you have time to listen to the radio? You were supposed to be studying."

"Not 24/7, have some compassion - damn, you're a nurse, they remove it don't they?"

"Very funny, I don't think. So why are you playing with bicycles, Catherine Watts?"

"Because I don't like riding them with flat tyres, too bumpy, see!" I did a mock Welsh accent.

"There's terrible for you!" said Stella in an equally stereotyped Welsh accent.

"Look you, Stella Cameron, you'll be sorry when my army of suicide spiders attacks you and declare inde-bloody-pendence from England."

"No, you look you, Cathy Rubbish-Welsh Accent, 'Ow can Portsmouth declare independence from England?"

"We'll invade the Isle of Wight, using Portsmouth as a bridgehead."

"I didn't know spiders could swim?"

"They'll fly, from b'there to over b'there."

"Spiders don't 'ave wings, look you!"

"They balloon, stew-pid woman and you sound about as Welsh as haggis."

"How would y-ew know, y-ew Bristolian imposter? Look yer boyo..."

"Oi! Girlo if you don't mind."

"Alright see, look yer girlo, I come from a long line of Welsh haggis."

"Welsh haggis?" This had got a bit silly, it would have made Monty Python seem sensible.

"Yes, why not? Just 'cos our sheep have wellies on their back legs."

"I thought thy wore wellies on one side, so they could walk round hills."

"No girlo, it's on their back legs see, why d'you think Welsh leg of lamb has such a unique flavour?"

"What, wellies? Ugh!"

"Absolutely!"

"Tell me, as you're such an expert on haggis, why does it look like a bladder stuffed with horse manure?"

"Have you tried it?" asked Stella, the phoney accent now gone.

"No, I haven't."

" 'cos it tastes like that, too."

"Is that just the Welsh variety?" I said laughing.

"Oh God no, I may be Scots by birth, but I prefer cornflakes to porridge."

I began pumping up the tyres on my bike with the track pump.

"What are you doing that for?"

"They need to be one hundred psi."

"Why? You're not going to be riding it."

"Let me give you a tip, Stella, don't put any money on it."

"Simon said not to let you ride."

"Simon isn't here and he doesn't own me yet, whatever he might think."

"He is going to be cross with you."

"Would you prefer we went for an hour's cross country run?"

"You're joking, you can't do that, can you?"

"I did for the previous week before I came home, had a physio run with me."

"Was that wise?"

"I don't care if it was or not, it's what I needed to do. Riding my bike is what I need to do now. So you can either shut up and go and get changed into your cycling stuff and come with me, or shut up and piss off!"

"I suppose I'd better come with you then."

"Right, I'll check your tyres too, then."

We did eventually get a ride, although we didn't go very far, Stella couldn't keep up with me. She seemed to be short of breath. "I thought you were going to keep this up, so you could give me a run for my money?"

"What with running back and fore to that hospital and recording that stupid bike race for you, I didn't have much time - when I did it would rain."

"Right, well I have a training schedule in mind, so you can come on board if you like."

"How vigorous is this going to get?"

"Not very...to start with." As I said this I saw her relax then tense up. "No, an hour's ride each day, which will get progressively tougher as we improve."

"Simon isn't going to like it, you know."

"I don't care, this is how I get to feel fitter and happier, back to my usual sweet self. If Simon doesn't like it, he'll have to lump it. Besides, he can come out to play at weekends if he behaves himself."

"What about work and your film?"

"I need to speak with Des about that."

"How is that man eating dormouse of yours?"

"Spike? I don't know, I haven't asked Tom, just in case something had happened to her."

"It hasn't has it?"

"I don't know, but she is rather elderly."

"Oh dear, I didn't realise that. I hope she's alright."

"Me too, I shall find out tomorrow, you can come with me if you like."