Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1144.
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(aka Bike) Part 1144 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved. |
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It was three o’clock as we began to leave Salisbury on the A36, just when it began to rain. It had been a fine morning so loads of the school kids were caught without umbrellas or raincoats–not that some of them bothered, wearing just shirts or blouses. They’d have been in deepest doo-doo in my days, detention for not wearing the proper uniform.
On the outskirts of the city we passed someone holding a card saying Portsmouth, please. It was a young woman of about sixteen and she was soaking wet. I stopped the car and she came running up to it.
“I can take you to the city centre, is that any use?”
“That would be brill,” she said, her whole face lighting up.
“Hop in then.”
She got in and I introduced myself as Cathy, she said her name was Phoebe.
“So do you know Portsmouth?” I asked, making conversation, the baby having gone off to sleep as soon as the car started moving.
“I’ve been there a few times.”
“Where are you staying?” I asked aware that she only had a small grip with her.
“With my brother.”
“Where does he work, the dockyard?”
“No way, he works at the university, in the biology department.”
“Oh, I know some of them, what’s his name?”
“Neal.”
“Neal, what’s he do?”
“He’s a technician.”
“Is he, can’t say I know too many of them.”
“Apparently, he works with this woman–well she used to be a man–but he says she’s drop-dead gorgeous since she had a sex-change, so I don’t suppose she has had a sex-change, I mean, you can’t make a beautiful woman out of a man, can you? She’s been on the telly, too, she’s an expert on dormice and she’s always in trouble–she’s like a crime fighter.”
“So she’s beautiful, a crime fighter, on the telly, and had a sex change–she sounds pretty busy?”
“I’d love to meet her, I’d be able to tell in a moment if she’d been a bloke.”
“Well you’re cleverer than I am, I just accept people for who they want to be.”
“Yeah, I suppose I do too–we’ve got this boy in school, they say he wears girl’s clothes when he’s not in school. He gets bullied all the time.”
“Do you bully him?”
“No, me and a group of us girls, we sometimes let him hang out with us to keep him from being beat up. He’s alright I suppose. His name’s Steve, and we often call him Stephanie.”
“What’s he say to that?”
“He doesn’t seem to mind–he might even like it.”
“Have you asked him?”
“No.”
“It could be a good thing to do, and then if he doesn’t like it, perhaps you could stop teasing him.”
“Yeah, I might.”
“Is Neal working at the university, today?”
“I s’pose so. It’s his birthday, so my visit’s a surprise.”
“Perhaps you should let him know–what if he’s got something planned?”
“He won’t mind, nor will Glo–Gloria, they share a house, well they live together–she’s nice, although she seems to spend all her time looking after dormice.”
“For the crime fighting woman?”
“Yeah, I s’pose so.”
“Don’t you think you should call him, just in case?”
“Nah, I’ll do it from the city centre. He can get me on his way home.”
“I think you ought to call now.”
“Nah, I’ll do it later.”
“What if he’s away for his birthday?” I happened to know he was in Brussels with Gloria–she told me about it ages ago.
“He never goes away.”
“I’ve got a horrible feeling, someone told me Gloria was going away,” I dropped a hint like a brick.
“She wouldn’t go away on his birthday, she’d never do that.”
“She would if he went with her.”
“Oh crap,” she picked out her phone and discovered it had a nearly flat battery. “Oh crap and double crap–oops, sorry, um, Cathy.”
“It’s okay, here use mine, d’you know his number?”
“Oh, a Blackberry, nice.” She accepted my phone and dialled before I realised something.
“Cathy? No it’s Phoebe.” She put it on speaker.
“What are you calling from Cathy’s phone for?”
“Mine’s got a flat battery.”
“Yeah, but how do you know Cathy?”
“She’s giving me a lift to see you.”
“Where?”
“To, like, Portsmouth, stupid.”
“Who are you calling stupid? I’m not in Portsmouth, I’m in Brussels. So now who’s stupid?”
“Oh, crap, you’re not, are you? Like where am I gonna stay?”
“Let me speak to Cathy.”
“He wants to talk to you.”
“Tell him to hold on a second, I’ll pull over here.”
“Cathy, is that you?”
“Yes, Neal, hold on, I’m pulling over to a rest area.”
“You said you didn’t know him.”
“Short term memory loss, didn’t sleep too much last night–‘cos of her.” I indicated the sleeping infant.
“Aaah, isn’t she lovely?”
“Not at three in the morning.”
“Cathy, c’mon this call’s costin’ me a fortune,” Neal complained.
I took the phone. “It isn’t, Neal, I’m paying for it. Now what d’you want me to do with Phoebe?” who sat with her arms folded and pouted.
“Apart from strangling her?” he joked.
“She was trying to surprise you for your birthday.”
“She succeeded, too–stupid girl.”
“I could put her up, for the night.”
“Would you–that’d be brilliant, Cathy?”
“Yes, she can decide what she wants to do in the morning, as long as she doesn’t eat too much.”
“She does, she eats like a bloody horse.”
“I’ll see if I can find a spare nose bag.”
“Thanks, Cathy–can I speak to her again?”
“Of course, have a nice weekend, and don’t worry about her, she’ll be fine.”
I handed the phone back to Phoebe, who put it on speaker again.
“It’s me,” she said.
“You idiot for not letting me know, you behave yourself for Lady Cameron.”
“Who’s she?”
“The person whose phone you’re using.”
“Lady?”
“Yes, she’s married to a lord, he’s a nice bloke, called Simon.”
“Wow,” was all she said.
“So behave, Phoebs or I’ll tell Mum what a twit you are.”
“I’ll behave, have a nice birthday.”
Neal rang off and Phoebe handed me back the Blackberry.
“I take it you’re happy to slum it with me.”
“Ha ha, you’re Lady something or other, so where d’you live, a stately home, with a butler and loadsa servants?”
“Not quite, I live in an old farmhouse, which belongs to Professor Agnew.”
“That’s Neal’s prof–he said that woman, the beautiful one lived with his prof.”
“Oops, perhaps I’d better do some crime fighting–I know, I’ll arrest a dormouse, how about that?”
“I don’t like mice.”
“Dormice aren’t like housemice.”
“Aren’t they?”
“No, maybe I’ll show you one tomorrow.”
“If that’s your baby, you can’t have had a sex change–I’ll kill Neal when I see him.”
“Perhaps he meant someone else.”
“Yeah, mustadone, though you are quite beautiful.”
“Oh well, if I’m only quite beautiful, and your weirdo was drop-dead gorgeous, it must be someone else.”
We rejoined the motorway, and were home about twenty minutes later. As soon as I walked in I had an avalanche of children wash all over me. After dealing with that, I introduced Phoebe to the girls and to Danny as he walked through. His eyes were as big as saucers, and I think I recognised love or lust in them–she was quite a pretty girl.
I sent her up to shower and change while I shoved her clothes in the washing machine–they were quite damp. So, unfortunately, were her spare clothes, her grip wasn’t very waterproof. I loaned her some of Julie’s stuff as they were about the same size.
Jenny looked quite tired and I gave her the evening off, so she left minutes later.
“Who’s Phoebe?” Trish asked on behalf of the interrogation committee, “She’s not comin’ to live here, too, is she?”
“No, she came to see her brother, Neal, one of the university technicians, but he’s away, so she’s staying the night.”
“Oh, that’s okay then.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Cheeky madam.
