Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 853.

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Wuthering Dormice
(aka Bike)
Part 853
by Angharad
  
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The next day was Christmas Eve, and I rushed out early with Trish and Livvie to finish the food shopping, grab a Guardian and so forth. We were back by eight and making breakfast for Meems, Simon and the two boys. I did a very unhealthy fry up of bacon, sausage, hash browns, beans, tomatoes and mushrooms. We all indulged and they all helped clean it up. I announced that lunch would be a very small snack and dinner would be light as well–hence the morning blow out. Simon and Tom took the boys, Livvie and Meems out to visit some aircraft museum near Southampton.

Trish feigned a tummy ache not to go. I let her stay with me and set her work vacuuming–she seemed quite happy to do chores. “Now tell me the real reason you didn’t want to go.”

“He knows.”

“Who knows what?”

“He knows who I was?”

“Danny?”

“Yes, Mummy.”

“Oh, sorry, darling.” I gave her a hug, “I did try to put him off the scent.”

“I know, Mummy.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“I don’t know–he said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“He said he could see I really was a girl, and we’ve all been so kind to him. He really likes you, Mummy, said he wished he had a mummy like you.”

“Don’t tell him where I live,” I said and realised from her expression that it had gone right over her head.

“He knows where you live, Mummy.”

“Never mind, kiddo, let’s have a quick cuppa and”–the doorbell rang and I didn’t get to finish my sentence.

It was the van from the bike shop, we unloaded the three boxes into the garage cum workshop, the driver admired my set up, “No wonder you didn’t need us to assemble them. What no wheel truing jig?”

“Behind the door,” I pointed and he pulled back the door.

“Not many women like to get their hands dirty,” he remarked.

“I like to be different,” I smiled and we leant the boxes against the wall I’d cleared earlier. For those who’ve never bought a brand new bike, they are delivered in a box that looks big enough for a child to live in. These were smaller boxes because they were all children’s bikes, so I let the delivery man carry them himself.

“Crikey, are these all Park tools?”

“Yes, on that wall, over here are those I’ve collected over the years.”

“Your workshop is as good as ours.” He stood looking round and shaking his head. “It is you who uses these–not your husband?”

“He has been known to borrow the odd screwdriver, but this is my workshop.”

“And your bikes?”

“Those three are mine, that one is Simon’s, that belongs to his sister Stella and the children’s bikes are fairly obvious.”

“A family which cycles together, stays together?” he posed.

“Something like that.”

“Do you race?”

“Nah, not good enough.”

“I’m sure the local club would disagree, I can give you their number...”

“No thanks, I don’t have time these days, the children see to that.”

“Okay, well Merry Christmas,” and he got back in his van and drove off. Trish came out carrying a mug of tea, and a mince pie.

For the next two hours, we opened boxes and assembled bikes. I’d bought the two boys bottom of the range of decent mountain bikes from Giant–they seemed as good as any and I managed to negotiate a decent price. I also got Meems the same bike as Livvie and Trish had. Trish was really pleased for her. She helped me tidy up afterwards and talked constantly while I was working.

Finally she brought the conversation back to Danny. “He said he felt much better after what you did last night.”

“Good,” I said checking the alignment of some forks.

“He said a weight had been lifted off him, what does he mean, Mummy?”

“Sometimes carrying an emotional pain feels every bit as bad as carrying a physical weight, it can even make people curl up as if they had a heavy bag on their back.”

“And you helped him with the weight?”

“Looks like it–pass me that spanner, will you? No, the big one, that’s it.”

She ran and hugged me, “You’re a wonderful Mummy,” she said then burst into tears.

“What’s the matter?” I hugged her trying not to get my oily gloves–yes I wear vinyl gloves to tinker with bikes these days–on her clothing.

“I don’t know,” she sobbed hugging me tightly.

“Is it Danny knowing about you?”

“I don’t know, he said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“But you don’t trust him?”

“I don’t know.” She continued sobbing and holding on to me.

“Okay, I’ll speak with him.”

“Will that help?” she cried.

“I honestly don’t know, but at least I can put him in the picture and say we have doctors who believe you are female, so we’re waiting for the time for your body to stop growing to put the little anomaly right. D’you think that would help?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nor do I, darling, but whatever he says, it won’t actually change anything, you’re still living as a girl and that’s what counts. Personally, if he said he won’t tell, I believe him.”

“He’s so much bigger than me, he frightened me.”

“When?” This sounded more serious.

“When I was Patrick.”

“He hasn’t done so since?” I held her by the upper arms and looked into her eyes.

“Only that he might recognise me–and he has,” she sobbed again.

“Trish, it’s one of the prices we pay for being true to ourselves–that someone, can at any point in time produce information or accusations of a past identity. If you really want to live as the girl you tell me you are, you have to learn to cope with it.”

“I don’t want to, Mummy, it’s horrible.”

“Do you want to go back to being Patrick?”

“No, Mummy, I’d die.”

“You have to be brave, my darling, be brave and grow stronger from the experience.”

“I’ll try.” She wiped her eyes.

“Good girl, remember all those bad things happened to Patrick, not Trish. Trish has the support of the whole family. We’ll help you, you won’t be alone–I promise.” I hugged her and kissed her.

“C’mon girl, let’s go in and change into something tidier and you can wash your face and help me make some mince pies.” I took her hand and after locking the garage walked with her into the house.

At about five, the expedition to Southampton returned to warm mince pies and hot chocolate for the children and Simon and Tom as well. Stella came down with Puddin’ and partook of our feast and we listened to some carols on the radio.

The house felt full and had we been eating canapés and drinking mulled wine it would have been a real traditional Christmas scene, but to us unbelievers, it was one of nostalgia rather than religion–but it was still nice.

Tom took me to one side and apart from snaffling another mince pie, he said, “I lang dreamt o’ this place full o’ bairns at Christmas, and ye’ve made it happen fae me. Thank ye, Cathy.”

“Just wait until tomorrow, Daddy, we have another two coming with Pippa.”

“Och, tha’ll be brilliant, jest brilliant.”

“I hope so, Daddy–I really hope so.”

“Ach it will, I trust ye implicitly.”

“I hope so.”

A little later I managed to grab Danny and took him into the utility room and shut the door behind us.

“’Ave I done somethin’ wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know–yet. Trish says you told her something earlier.”

“I told her lots of thin’s.”

“Come off it, Danny, don’t mess me about–I’m too busy to play games with ten year olds. So give.”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell no one.”

“I think I might be the exception there, and as she is my responsibility as my daughter, I think you’d better tell me.”

“I said I’d tell nobody.”

“So that includes me?”

“Yeah, you’re like someone in’t you? So yeah.”

“I could make one phone call and have you sent to a children’s home tonight.”

“Yeah, so? I ain’t gonna tell you.”

I smiled at him. “Can you honour that pledge forever?”

“Wossa pledge?”

“A promise.”

“Yeah, I s’pose so.”

I hugged him–“Trish is a very special little girl, she deserves to be allowed to live her life in peace. Thank you.” I kissed him on the forehead.

“WhattidIdo?” he exclaimed.

“You proved that you have started to heal the past, young man–and I’m very proud of you. I hope your confidence in this matter won’t mean you tell Billy anything about this?”

“Nah, if he can’t see it for ‘imself, tough innit?”

“Good man.” I patted him on the shoulder and we went back to the party.

“Auntie Cathy, do you think someone will eventually be my family?”

“I can’t answer that, Danny, but from what I’ve seen of you recently, I can’t see why not. You’re an okay kid.”

He squeezed my hand and I felt my throat form a lump–I can’t, I don’t have time or the energy–I really don’t.

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Comments

Christmas all year

Angharad

Normally we think of Christmas or birthdays as the time for giving and receiving of gifts.

Yet I think I receive a present from you every day with another episode of Bike/Wuthering Dormice/whatever Bonzi's decided to call it.

So many thanks for what we receive from you every day. I don't know how you or the furry feline(s) manage it, but I for one really appreciate this continuing saga. Long may it continue.

Today's installment was just great. I love the interaction between Cathy and her brood: superb stuff.

Prose Sublime

I Agree

Thank you PS for saying it so well, and thank you Angharad for your almost daily gift to us.

Bike 853

"I can’t, I don’t have time or the energy—I really don’t."

The only question now is, is it 4 children for Cathy, or more? Time will tell.

Hmm! Why don't i

believe Cathy when she says she has'nt got the time or the energy, Seem's to me that little boy is already making inroads into her heart.

Thank you Angharad for giving up some of your time on Christmas day, I'm sure you must be very busy But as always, Your sharing of your stories with us all is very much appreciated.

Kirri

Angharad, What wonderful

Angharad,
What wonderful Christmas present, another part of your Cathy saga for us all. I do hope you and all your family had a very special Christmas and that even Bonzi got a few prezzies, like a new pen for writing some more chapter plots :) I do feel after the talk Cathy had with Danny, that he is a boy of his word and won't tell anyone ever. I also believe that some of that comes from the fact that Trish and Cathy helped him over both his physical hurt and his internal hurt. Hugs to you, Jan

Sure Cathy, keep saying it...

Love it when she tries to be firm but we all know she has too big a heart.

“Auntie Cathy, do you think someone will eventually be my family?”
“I can’t answer that, Danny, but from what I’ve seen of you recently, I can’t see why not. You’re an okay kid.”
He squeezed my hand and I felt my throat form a lump—I can’t, I don’t have time or the energy—I really don’t.

You're just

You're just tearjerking.....
Thank you.

Thank you

For a wonderful Xmas prezzie. Enjoyed as usual - take care and merry xmas - Jay


That which does not kill me only serves to delay the inevitable. My blog => http://jaym.angelblogs.co.uk/

That which does not kill me only serves to delay the inevitable. My blog => http://jaynemorose.wordpress.com/ <= note new address

Wuthering Dormice-853

I can see Tom adopting the boys if Simon and Cathy don't. Even Stella would make a good mum, look at her with Puddin. And Danny standing his grounds no doubt pleased Cathy. I can see her telling Trish and the girls, as well as the adults.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Thank you, Angharad

for this delightful tale.

I wish you, your feline family, and all you love and care for, a very Happy Christmastide and a healthy New Year.

Susie

Thank you

I have about a million words for you, but can only include a few here

Thank you thank you thank you thank you
Thank you Thank you thank you thank you
Thank you Thank you thank you thank you
Thank you thank you thank you thank you
Thank you Thank you thank you thank you
Thank you Thank you thank you thank you

for a wonderful story.

I seldom comment here,

I seldom comment here, because I usually have trouble with putting my feelings into words. But I have to say this: thanks for the 852 chapters that have brought us to this beautiful moment.

Bob

Bob

Thanks!

Yes, others have already said it, but as I've only just got back from an offline Christmas...
...and almost immediately upon turning on my router and computer, started catching up on Bike...
...I'll take this opportunity to follow suit.

Thank you for taking the trouble to scribble out an episode on Christmas Day - which is a special occasion for many, even for those purely celebrating the secular version of the event.

I can't help wonder if Cathy's comment about not having the time or energy to look after more children will prove to be true, or, in the great tradition of storytelling, turn out to be false...

Oh well, only one way to find out...keep reading :)
 
 
--Ben


This space intentionally left blank.

As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

Yabbut!*

"I can’t, I don’t have time or the energy"

Yabbut, most of us don't get the opportunity to find out, do we? Many people find themselves riding to meet the challenges that life (or God, as some of us believe)gives them, eh?

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

* For those who don't speak North American, that translates into (more or less) Britspeak as "Yes, but".

x

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

I look at the date this was written

And I have to say thank you too.

Looks like this year I'll be spending Christmas with you. :D

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to Bonzi and your friend, to Angharad and the BIKERS out there!
I don't comment often enough, but I do try to leave a KUDO for each day.
Cathy is worrying she doesn't have time for another child, but I contend that with all she is doing, she is making it appear it is as EASY AS FALLING OFF A BIKE, and the she does indeed have the time necessary. Seems to me that 'time taking care of the children' is a phrase that is much like 'LOVE' - There is always more than enough to go around, regardless of how much you give out.
Keep this story coming (and it will, because the episode for today is about 1660, give or take a few chapters).

A Mother's Love is not to be Returned, But Passed on....

Don't let someone else talk you out of your dreams. How can we have dreams come true, if we have no dreams?

Katrina Gayle "Stormy" Storm

Oh, yes You do !

Every posting, every sentence, you make it seem as if I'm standing beside Cathy, feeling her emotions, and the emotions of everyone around her. Just how do you do it ? that's the question I have Ang, how do you do it ?
You may need a new bonnet size but, you are right up there with the best mystery and adventure writers of today.

Cefin