Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 967 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“What’s the matter?” asked Simon seeing the look on my face.

“That was my Auntie.”

“I didn’t know you had any aunties,” he said in surprise.

“Yeah, you told her off on the phone, remember?”

“Did I? Oh yes, she was the one I told we were married.”

“Yes–remember she passed out in the loos at my dad’s funeral, Stella stayed with her.”

“Of course, we didn’t meet her, did we?”

“Stella and I did, you stayed out in the chapel.”

“Self-sacrifice again, you take it all for granted.”

“I know, Si, you are such a martyr, in fact you are double that, a two-martyr.”

“Very bloody funny–what about this ’ere aunt of yours? Didn’t you tell her you’d been fixed?”

“Yes, that’s why she fainted at the funeral.”

“Oh boy, this is gonna be fun, what d’you think she’s after?”

“Search me,” I shrugged.

“I will–but after she’s gone.”

“You are so considerate,” I smirked at him.

“Full body search, missus.”

“I suppose you’ll want some of those rubber gloves vets use.”

“Certainly not, since when have you been into rubber?”

“I beg your pardon?” I tried to add indignation in my tone, but probably failed.

“Well only vets and perverts use those gloves.”

“Yeah, so.”

“Well, what are you doing with them?”

“I haven’t got any, I thought you had.” This was wasting time.

“No, why should I?” he shrugged.

“Look, Auntie bloody Doreen is going to be here any moment, I need to change into something more aristocratic.”

“Try your birthday suit.”

“Thanks for the advice, Simon, but no thanks.” I dashed upstairs, grabbed a dress from the wardrobe, and shrugging off my jeans and top pulled it on over my bra and pants. I checked in the wardrobe–it looked okay. I put on some lipstick and squirted some perfume. I was ready.

Julie came past my room–“I hate to say it, Mummy dearest, but that dress is a no-no with trainers.”

Poo, I took them off and slipped on a comfortable pair of court shoes. I hoped I looked sufficiently patrician to see the old bugger off, without having the kids laughing at me. I checked the mirror again, I looked like my mother.

I had literally just reached the foot of the stairs when the doorbell rang–damn, it was them, Do and Arthur and I hadn’t briefed the kids.

I opened the door, and she stood there looking a bit older than she had before she collapsed at the crematorium. “Hello, Charlie.”

“My name is Catherine now.”

“You were baptised Charlie, so that’s what you’ll always be.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not anymore and unless you can get that into your head, then you’re not welcome at my home.”

“Oh stuff and nonsense, I’m your only living relation.”

“So?”

“Well open the door, let’s see this little home you have.”

“It actually belongs to Professor Agnew.”

“Who’s he when he’s at home?”

“Why have you come?”

“To see you, now are you going to let us in or are we going to talk on the doorstep?”

“Mummy, who’s this?” Trish had just wandered up from behind my aunt and uncle.

“Mummy? Ha, that’s a laugh.”

“My mummy isn’t a laugh you silly old woman.”

“Here, who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Someone who is calling my mummy names.”

“This is your mummy? Charlie is your mummy?” Aunt Do’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.

“Of course she is, why else would I call her mummy, are you stupid or something? Her name is Catherine, Lady Catherine–and I’m her daughter, Lady Patricia.”

“Is she really your daughter. Cha–I mean, Catherine?”

“Yes, she isn’t given to lying.”

“But how can she be? I mean–you were a boy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, how could my mummy be a boy,” Trish was still defending me, “I have a twin sister and a younger sister as well.”

“These are really your girls?”

“Yes, Auntie Do.”

“Is your name really Dodo?” Trish asked mercilessly.

“This is my aunt, Trish, Mrs Doreen Porter and her husband, my uncle Arthur.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m sure. Mummy, may I go on the internet again if I keep off the porn sites this time?”

I nearly died, even Uncle Arthur’s eyes widened this time. “She’s such a tease,” I shrugged and pretended it wasn’t said. Mind you I’ll have something to say later, especially if she actually knows what a porn site is. It felt like my children had just arrived courtesy of the Addams family.

I led the two bewildered visitors into the lounge. It’s a large room with very high ornate ceilings, my aunt’s eyes were everywhere. “You actually live here?”

“Yes while the girls are at school, we go up to the castle in the summer for the grouse shooting.”

“Grouse shooting? When you were a kid you bawled your eyes out if anyone so much as stepped on a bug. Perhaps you were really a girl, after all.”

“Would you like some tea? I’ll have to make it, the maid has the day off.” Just then there was a knock at the door.

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, would you like me to make teas for your visitors?” Julie was standing there in a black skirt, with a white blouse and white pinny.

“Could you, Julie, I thought it was your day off?”

“No ma’am, we swapped it if you remember, I’m off tomorrow for my ante-natal appointment.”

“Of course–you’re sure it’s Alfie’s baby?”

“Either that or Roger or maybe Walter, can’t remember, ma’am.”

“Oh well, I suppose you want me to pay for another DNA test when it’s born.”

“Thank you, ma’am–I’ll get the tea.” She bobbed and went out of the room. I had no idea who was organising this, but it smacked of Stella.

“Your maid is pregnant and she doesn’t even know who the father is–goodness she only looks about fifteen,” Auntie Do said with disgust.

“I know, but she’s very good at her job–sometimes–but you know how hard it is to get and keep staff, especially on what we pay her.”

Simon walked in wearing a pin striped suit, “Oh sorry, darling, I didn’t realise we had company. Who is this?”

“Simon, this is my Auntie Doreen and Uncle Arthur, Auntie Do, this is my husband, Lord Simon Cameron.”

“How d’ya do?” he said and shook their hands vigorously. “Sorry, darling, but my favourite gun, there’s something wrong with the mechanism–I’ve instructed the gunsmith to open for me and he’s going to sort it. Sorry an’ all that, have to toddle. Nice to meet you–um–yes.” He walked quickly out of the room before he began to laugh. Then the front door shut and a car started up–I hoped he took several children with him.

Julie called us to the dining room, where again I smelt the hand of Stella, the silver tea set was on the table–I’d only cleaned it a couple of weeks ago.

After tea, which I let Julie serve–she actually did it like a proper maid, again Stella must have instructed her. If this facade went wrong, I was going to start killing my in-laws and children–slowly.

After some small talk over hobnobs and tea, we got to the nitty-gritty. “Tell me, Catherine, Derek didn’t show you some pearls did he? I loaned them to your mother some time ago and I’d like them back.”

“Pearls? No. I don’t remember Mummy wearing pearls, ever.”

“Oh dear, I’m sure I loaned them to Derek for your mother, they were given to me by my grandmother.” I knew she was lying but it explained her presence.

“How did you find me?”

“I spoke to one of your neighbours in Bristol, you’d given her your address and phone number.”

Obviously one of those I asked to keep an eye on the house.

“This is a lovely house, Catherine, even if it isn’t yours.”

“It sort of is, but the professor still stays here when he’s in the country.”

“What’s he a professor of?” asked Uncle Arthur.

“He’s a biologist like me.”

“Oh–of course, you did that dormouse film. It was you, wasn’t it?” Uncle Arthur’s solitary brain cell had woken up.