Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1953
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(aka Bike) Part 1953 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad
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“Crikey,” I shivered running from bed to the bathroom. The easterly wind seemed to find every crack and chink in the house and then pass a draught through each one so it felt like a veritable gale.
The bathroom was reasonably warm and I showered and dressed then sorted my hair. It felt warmer to wear it down–lag my brains a little. It was the last day of school holiday and they’d all be back noses to grindstones on Monday with just the two days of the weekend left
I went to rouse the girls, to see if there was anything they wanted to do and also to call Danny for his last day of the soccer school. For a change I decided to call Danny first. I quietly walked up to his room and thought I heard a sniffle. I listened at his door and I was right, he was crying or it certainly sounded like he was.
I knocked and entered, he quickly turned away from me. “What’s the matter, son?”
He remained turned away from me, but something was worrying him enough to cry.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, “Whatever it is, you can share it with me, you know; and they say a trouble shared is a trouble halved.”
He shook his head.
“Come on, shake a leg otherwise you’ll be late for your football.” I tried to cajole him into feeling better.
“I’m not going.”
“Yes you are, it’s only Friday, it’s the last day today.”
“I’m not going, so leave me alone.” He pulled the covers over his head.
“I might expect this sort of behaviour from Mima, not someone who’s nearly grown up. I also paid good money for you to do the course, so you’d better tell me why you aren’t going before I phone them up, or worse, go over there and find out what’s happening. So sit up and tell me–now.”
I pulled back the duvet and he sheepishly sat up. “I was banned.”
“What for, drinking too much energy drink?”
“Fighting.”
I sighed–he was always in trouble for fighting. “What about this time?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It must have been to make it worth risking the last day.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Daniel, I don’t believe you. So tell me the truth or I’ll ban you as well.”
“What d’you mean?”
“I’ll stop you playing until next season.”
“You can’t do that–they’re relying on me.”
“Don’t tell me what I can or cannot do. If I tell the school you can’t play football until next season, they are obliged to accept my ruling.”
“But you can’t do that.”
“Watch me–or tell me what happened yesterday.” I waited a moment then stood up, “Okay, do it the hard way.” I walked towards the door.
“Wait, Mummy, please.”
I turned and walked back to the bed, “I’m waiting.”
“Okay,” he paused and wiped his nose on his pyjama sleeve–where do they get these horrible habits? “It was about Billie.”
My tummy flipped. “How can it be about Billie? She’s dead,” those words sliced through me as I said them.
“One of the kids on the course remembered her, or her as a him and asked me if I was that poofy kid’s brother. I told him she was dead, and to respect her. he just laughed at me–she? He said, 'That figures, bloody fairy,' and I just lost it and whacked him one. The teacher saw me and sent me home telling me not to come back today.”
“Okay, who was the teacher?”
“Mr Samuels.”
“And the boy you hit?”
“Ricky Germaine.”
“Get yourself up and ready for your course, and get a move on.”
“I can’t, he banned me.”
“He can’t, or I’ll ban him. Hurry up, you need a good breakfast.” I left him and called the girls. Julie and Phoebe were cussing because they were late. I pointed out that they had alarm clocks so it was their own fault. I then got the younger ones up and went down to have my own breakfast.
Half an hour later I took Danny to the school and a short time later was heading for the teacher like a guided missile, only much more dangerous than mere weapons.
“Excuse me, are you Mr Samuels?” I asked politely.
“Yes, madam, who are you?”
“I’m Lady Cameron.”
“How can I help?”
“You suspended my son yesterday.”
“Your son? I don’t think so–I don’t actually recall anyone called Cameron on this course.”
“Daniel Maiden.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not quite connecting on this one.”
“Daniel is my adopted son.”
“Ah, now I’m with you.”
“You suspended him.”
“Yes, he was fighting–they all know from day one, any fighting and off they go.”
“Do you know why he was fighting?”
“I’m not interested–they know the rules.”
“I’m going to tell you anyway, and then you’re going to either suspend the other boy as well, or reinstate him.”
“I don’t think so. Look, Lady Cameron, I make rules and stick to them.”
“The other boy started it.”
“The other boy didn’t touch him.”
“He provoked him.”
“Sorry, that doesn’t count. They have to learn to control their tempers on the field and off it.”
“So you won’t reconsider?”
“No.”
“Fine, I’ll just carry on with my complaint. The police will be here in an hour and you’ll be suspended and possibly dismissed within a matter of weeks–and unable to work in teaching ever again.”
“What?”
“Good bye, Mr Samuels–and say the same to your career.”
“Now hang on a second, just because you’re wealthy doesn’t mean you can just go around throwing your weight about.”
“Can’t I? I make rules too, Mr Samuels–anyone who affects my children negatively, with no good reason, I destroy.”
“You’ll be taking on the union.”
“Mr Samuels, you’ll be homeless by tea time–what union?”
“Homeless?”
“Yes, I’ll call in your mortgage.”
“You can’t do that?”
“Watch me.”
“You bitch.”
“Ah but you have rules, Mr Samuel, you mustn’t rise to the provocation, or is that just for the children?”
“I’ve a damn good mind to slap you.”
“Feel free, but I must warn you I shall defend myself.”
“What with posh lawyers?”
“No, I’ll lay you out.”
“You?”
“Yes me. Better men than you have tried it. I’m off, I think I’ll destroy your wife’s career as well. Yes, that should be fun.” I turned, he stepped towards me and swung. I ducked and caught him behind his knees–and down he went.
“You were warned–I take it you’re now going to suspend yourself–or shall I just call the police?”
“If I go the course is over.”
“I gave you an alternative.”
“To reinstate Danny?”
“Yes, or suspend the other boy as well.”
“But he didn’t do anything–least not in front of me.”
“Get up and walk with me a moment.” He did as he was told, and I explained what had happened and how Billy became Billie and how protective Danny was of his sister.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“So what is your decision?” I asked him.
“What is yours?”
“If you either reinstate my son or sack the other boy as well, I’ll be satisfied.”
“Which would you prefer?”
“It isn’t my decision.”
“Okay, he can come back but if they clash again I’ll send them both home.”
“That I can live with. Oh what position does Germaine play?”
“Goal keeper, why?”
“I take it on opposite sides to Danny?”
“That could be arranged–why?”
“Shall we just say, I’d prefer to let Danny’s footballing skills speak for him, rather than his fists.”
“Where did you learn that thing–you know–where you dropped me?”
“I was bullied as a child, Mr Samuels–I learned to defend myself–I let you off easy, I could have seriously hurt you, but I was making a point. Provocation is every bit as bad as retaliation–I’d never have carried out the threats I made, but I needed to wind you up to make my point. We all have vulnerable areas, mine is my children. Good day, Mr Samuels.”
