Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 856.
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(aka Bike) Part 856 by Angharad |
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The conversation seemed to go quiet after Trish spoke. “Can we talk about this later?” I said to her.
“Sure, but I’m not going to change my mind.”
“Fine, but you’re not the one who decides who lives here–this is Grampa’s house.”
“Och, dinna involve me,” Tom shrugged.
“Okay, we’ll talk later, young lady, now go and play–oh, and shut the door, please.”
“The prophecy asserts itself,” said Simon, having a little too much to drink.
“C’mon, Si, that’s total rubbish and you know it?”
“What’s this about a prophecy?” asked Monica.
“Oh, Cathy had a dream a while back.”
“And...?,” she urged
“Her mother appeared and told her she’d have a large family.”
I sat there blushing–why did he have to open his big mouth?
“Ooh, dreams can be quite prophetic,” cackled Monica.
“Yes, but most are total nonsense–which is what I feel this one was.” I blushed and felt very hot as I issued this denial.
“Leave da poor girl alone, she one special lady.” Theresa joined the conversation, she winked at me and I don’t know if she was siding with me or dropping hints that she knew what I was–a total fraud.
“Goodness, we’re going to run out of titles,” said Henry and Simon laughed too loudly.
“Not if I murder your son,” I said quietly, but loudly enough for Henry to hear.
“I’ll help you dispose of the body,” he said behind his hand and winked at me.
“If you takin’ kids, you can have my Leon any day,” said Theresa and snorted.
“Whose side are you on?” I pretended to glare at her and she snorted with laughter. “Any more trouble from you and I’ll let your tyres down.” She roared at this remark, maybe I’d get Simon to stop pouring drinks.
“Anyone for...” I started.
“Tennis,” said Simon and laughed at his own joke.
“Och, the tennis court has no been useable fa years,” Tom volunteered.
Before my tiddly husband could open his mouth and shove in both feet up to the knee, I said, “I was going to ask if tea or coffee was required by anyone?”
“Hmm, I fancy a good cup of coffee,” said Stella, c’mon, I’ll help you make it.”
We adjourned to the kitchen. “You’re not seriously going to take those boys are you?”
“I don’t intend to,” I replied.
“So what are you going to say to Trish? I mean didn’t one of them push her down the stairs or something?”
“I think so–as to what I tell her–I’ll just have to say, it’s not possible. I mean I have a career to pursue as well as looking after the girls. Besides, I have no idea how to bring up boys.”
Stella thought this was amusing, I didn’t. I poured the boiling water on the coffee and the smell was wonderful.
“You don’t think it’s ironic that someone who was raised as a boy has no idea how to raise boys?”
“It may well be ironic, it isn’t necessarily, funny. My childhood was at times very difficult–I don’t want to pass those experiences onto the boys.”
“See you’re already considering their well-being.”
“I have to, I’m legally responsible for them until Nora comes back to collect them.”
“When’s that?”
“January the fourth.”
“By that time, you’ll have been able to decide if you want to or not.”
“Decide what?”
“Whether you want to keep them.”
“Stella, why is no one listening to me? I don’t want to keep them–I can barely cope with three girls and Simon.”
“Fair enough, but Trish is going to be broken hearted.”
“That’s her problem, Stella, she’s brought it upon herself.”
“Yes, but she’s coped wonderfully, hasn’t she?”
“Yes, but so have the rest of us, reassuring her and backing her up at every moment.”
“Isn’t that how parents are meant to be?”
“Probably, look I don’t know–mine weren’t, okay–so can we please drop this subject?”
She looked suitably chastened. “Yeah, fine–it wasn’t me who raised it in the first place.” She sauntered out of the kitchen and I felt like hurling the coffee pot after her. Instead I put some cups and saucers together and was about to struggle out with them when Henry appeared.
“Need some help?”
“Yeah, know a good psychiatrist?” I asked grinning.
“For you or my children?”
“Good question–could you take the tray, please?”
“Here, that’s heavy, girl, you’d have hurt yourself lifting this.” He picked up the tray and carried it through to the dining room, I followed behind with a coffee pot and some milk.
“What no cappuccino?” said Simon.
“You want it, you make it, darling,” I said through gritted teeth.
“You heard the lady,” Henry snapped.
“That was no lady...” I felt myself get very hot, “...that was my wife,” he laughed loudly again.
Henry put the tray down loudly, “I think you could finally be the proof that hereditary peerages have had their day.”
Simon laughed loudly at this, “That is so funny, Dad.”
“I didn’t actually mean it as a joke, son.”
“That’s even funnier,” roared Simon.
I noticed that the rest of the table were becoming embarrassed by this conversation.
“Coffee?” I said loudly and Henry handed me a cup to fill.
