Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 663.
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(aka Bike) Part 663 by Angharad |
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I was waiting by the school gate when Trish and Peaches came out of school. “Hello, girls,” I waved to them and they trotted over to me.
“Do I come with you until Mummy comes to collect me?” Pea enquired.
“Um–I’m afraid you’re staying a bit longer than that, Peaches, I hope that’s okay?”
“Has she dumped me on you?” asked the youngster, while Trish stood alongside her friend with her mouth open.
“Your mummy has asked me to have you for the weekend,” I said trying not to upset the child.
“What is it this time? Screwing money out of Dad?” This coming from a five year old made me blush.
“Um–I–um, don’t know, Peaches.”
“I hate my name, can you call me something else?”
“Of course, what would you like us to call you?” I asked, feeling very self-conscious for the child.
“My other name is, Olivia, can you call me, Livvie?”
“Livvie, it will be my pleasure, and I’m sure Trish would agree, too.”
“Yes, I like the name, Olivia, and Livvie, even better.” The two girls hugged and Livvie looked a bit moist eyed.
I took a hand from each of them and we walked back to my car and they both sat in the back chatting all the way home.
I went through, Livvie’s case with her, and sorted out some play clothes, so after some fruit and a drink, they played with Trish’s bike again. If she became a regular visitor, it might be worth getting a second bike. Meems could use it eventually, so it wouldn’t be a waste of money.
I got the dinner sorted and Simon came home early to discover our visitor. “Hello girls–Trish, Peaches…”
“No, it’s Livvie, now Daddy,” Trish informed Simon.
“Hang on a minute, I’m only a dumb man, Peaches is now called Livvie?”
“Yes, Daddy, that’s right.”
“Oh good, hello, Livvie.”
“Hi, Uncle Simon.” Simon stiffened a moment at the novel form of address, before he relaxed and smiled. Then he saw me watching.
“Hi, Babes,” he said and kissed me, “What’s for dinner, I’m starved.”
“I’ve done some boiling gammon.”
“Oh, any chance some pea and ham soup tomorrow?”
“I suppose so,” I said already having saved the stock for exactly that, but I like to make him work for it.
“Oh good,” we went into the house and he said, “I wasn’t expecting Pea–Livvie until tomorrow.”
“I had an interesting chat with our visitor’s mother,” I informed him, and told him what had transpired.
“She said what?” his face went red with anger.
“She tried to blackmail me into having the girl whenever she wanted me to.”
“The cheek of it. If she tries anything, I’ll get our lawyers to sort her out, her feet won’t touch the ground.”
“Let’s see if it was just bluster,” I suggested, then seeing Livvie coming in the door, I made a face towards her, which thankfully, Simon understood.
“Hello, sweetheart…”
“Auntie Cathy, can we ride the bike along the pavement?”
Remembering the incident with the car, I felt myself blanch. “Not tonight, sweetheart, dinner’s nearly ready, so come on in and wash your hands. Trish, put your bike away and come and get your hands washed.”
The girls came in and we ate, Tom arrived just as we were finishing, and I put up some food for him. The girls had gone out again, “Livvie?” asked Tom.
“Peaches as was–she doesn’t like her first name,” I explained.
“I hope her surname isnae Oswald or Owen.”
“Why?” I asked clearing the dirty dishes away with Stella who was sniggering.
“P-O-O,” spelt Stella.
“Yeah, oh,” I gasped as I got the joke, “I don’t know what her surname is, I’ve never asked.”
“I did,” said Stella, “relax,” she aded, seeing me tense up, “It’s Richards.”
“Peaches Richards,” I said out aloud, “Who could do that to a little girl?”
“What about Charlie Watts, then?” she fired back.
“I don’t know anyone of that name, other than the ‘Stones’ drummer.”
“I used to, “ she said sighing, “a nice young man–I wonder what became of him?” She poked out her tongue at me and I responded similarly.
“Mummy, why is Wivvie used to be Peaches?” Meems has this way with English–she speaks it like a second language.
“Do you mean why is Peaches now called Livvie?”
“Yes, Mummy,” she nodded deliberately to reinforce the point.
“She doesn’t like her first name, which is Peaches; preferring her second name, which is Olivia, or Livvie for short.”
“Can I change my name, Mummy?”
“What would you like us to call you?”
“Caffy, wike you.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Meems, people would get confused, what’s your second name?” I had seen it but not remembered.
“Anne, my name’s Jemima Anne, Mummy.”
“We could call you Anne or Annie.”
“I wike Annie, Mummy.”
“Well you’ll have to give us time to adjust to this, so don’t get upset when we forget and call you, Mima or Meems or even Jemima; will you?”
“No, Mummy, I wike aww my names.”
“Aren’t you the lucky one, hen?” said Tom.
“What’s wrong with Tom?” I asked.
“Whit’s richt wi’it?”
“It’s a good, solid name.”
“Aye, I’m lookin’ rather too solid these days.”
“That’s all those lunch time curries, and you need to exercise more often.”
“Crivvens, lassie, a man’s gottae eat,” he said rolling his eyes.
“I agree, but a bit less often or less quantity than you do, Daddy.” I smiled my sweetest smile and he scowled at me.
“Ach, ye bloody women, ye’re aw the same.”
“Huh, unless you want to be on salad all next week, you’d better watch it.”
“Ach, I’m nae one o’yer tree rats. I haftae eat proper food.”
“Yes, but not by the truck load.”
“Ach, awa’ wi’ ye.” He got up from the table and went into his study, grumbling as he went.
