The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1107 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Excuse me Lady Cameron, but you’re going to need to express some more milk.” Jenny Bell produced a tray with the pump and a bottle on it, plus another cup of tea. “Have you tried the battery ones, they’re much quicker?”

“No I usually use the baby powered one,” I threw back at her.

She smiled and left. I drank the tea, went to the loo and began sucking out the precious fluid. It came out in buckets–well, okay, that’s an exaggeration but it certainly flowed faster than previously and it felt quite a relief when it was done.

I went for a shower, then took it down to the kitchen and popped it in the fridge, it was pretty well a whole bottle full. I drank some water and felt my boobs filling up with baby juice again. At this moment, I had great sympathy with dairy cows.

After tidying myself up somewhat, I set off for the hospital in Simon’s totty mobile and after parking it went up to the ward where I saw Simon and Trish in deep conversation.

“Muuummmeee,” she squealed and probably shattered windows on three floors.

I rushed in and gave her a hug and a kiss. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“A bit sore.”

“So you won’t be trying that again, will you?” I gently chided.

“I won’t need to; my goolies are gone for good.”

I shook my head and gave Simon a kiss and a hug. “How long has she been awake?”

“About half an hour, she hasn’t stopped talking ever since.”

I glanced at Trish, she blushed and giggled. I wondered what sort of hormone therapy she’d need as she grew up–she sure wouldn’t be having a male puberty and I remember reading about how injecting male hormones into girls masculinises them but also stunts their physical height. I wondered if the same happened with biological males or would they just go for a female model of development?

I sat hugging her while she sobbed onto my chest, and I wondered if I’d be allowed to keep her. If social services got their way, it was anyone’s guess. I had some enemies there. I felt like telling Trish how she could have jeopardised everyone’s future–but what would be the point? She is six years old and looked very small in that hospital bed.

Simon decided he’d go home and have shower and an hour’s kip, he’d come to collect me at nine o’clock when the visiting ended. Trish was upset when she realised she’d have to stay overnight.

Sam Rose came by a little later and once again offered his help, Trish overheard the conversation. “What do you mean, Mummy?”

“What’s that, darling?”

“About social services–I won’t go with them again, if I can’t stay with you–I’d rather die.” With that she began to climb out of bed and, Sam was pushed to calm her down and get her back into bed.

“I think you’d better get Stephanie here, PDQ,” he said very quietly to me.

“Could you give her a shout for me?” I pleaded to him with my eyes.

“Okay, Cathy. I’ll see if she’s about this evening.” He left us after kissing Trish and hugging me. I pecked him on the cheek and thanked him.

I’d managed to calm Trish down, telling her that I wasn’t planning on letting anyone take anyone anywhere, but we might have to fight to stay together. She realised that she had caused this crisis with her DIY surgery and I argued with her that it was nothing to do with that, but an ongoing spat with Social Services. She didn’t look convinced.

A short time later, Stephanie poked her head round the door, “Is this a private party or is anyone invited?”

We invited her in and she went and hugged Trish, then came and gave me a similar greeting, before telling me to go and get myself a cuppa. Trish looked more than a bit anxious, “You’re not going to send me away?” she wailed.

“No, why should I do that?” queried Stephanie.

“Mummy and Uncle Sam were talking earlier.”

Stephanie gave me a vexed look. “I promise we’ll both still be here when Mummy comes back, okay?”

“Okay,” Trish reluctantly agreed.

“Thirty?” I asked pointing at my watch.

“Um–yeah okay, she’s looking tired.”

I wandered up to the hospital canteen and got myself a cuppa and a sandwich, I hadn’t eaten for a while and felt hungry and exhausted. I looked at my watch–fifteen minutes and I’d eaten the tasteless bit of bread and whatever they put inside it, and drunk the tea. I began to stroll back towards the children’s ward.

I wandered into the cubicle which they called a private room and neither Trish nor Stephanie were there. My heart nearly stopped and I had an icy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I rushed out only to see Stephanie walking Trish back from the loos. Panic over–I felt some milk run down my chest–great.

I let them back into the room, “’Scuse me, I’m leaking,” I went to go to the loo when Stephanie stopped me.

“So it’s true then?”

“What is?”

“You’re breast-feeding the baby?”

“Yes, so?”

“And without any external help?”

“Other than a baby suckling, no–why?”

“It’s fascinating, that’s all.”

I went and wiped myself down with some paper towels and changed the pads. I kept some in my bag just in case.

I fed Trish her tea while talking with Stephanie about nothing in particular, after which we spoke outside the room.

“She is paranoid that social services are going to try and take her away from you, or some of the other children.”

“Wouldn’t they have grounds to do that?”

“I don’t think so, none of the children are particularly at risk, which I think Sam and I could argue comprehensively.”

“But, letting Trish self harm is hardly a vote of confidence in my motherhood abilities, is it?”

“Did you let her? She hid from you and did it herself, with a kitchen knife.”

“Well I didn’t stop her, did I?”

“That’s not the same is it? You didn’t know she was going to do it, or you would have stopped her.”

“Of course. I nearly died when I saw her.”

“Is she your favourite?”

“Stephanie, I have no favourites, but each has a special relationship with me and probably with each other and the rest of the adults. Trish has a developing intellect which is way above anyone I know. The baby has a helplessness about it, much like Simon.”

Stephanie looked at me then creased up with laughter. “You are wicked,” she said then creased up again.

We talked a little longer, then she said, “This child is no more at risk from you or anyone else at your home than any other child in a safe and loving family. Now you have your nanny, I am happy that she should stay with you and the others, after all, she achieved what she wanted.”

“I thought she was trying to create a female pudenda?”

“You’re right she is far cleverer than you, Cathy. She knew she couldn’t do that herself but she wanted to stop being at risk of growing into a boy. She knew from somewhere that her testes were the primary cause of male hormones, so she set out to destroy them, hence the bleeding.”

“Did she just tell you that?”

“Indirectly yes.”

“My god, she is brighter than I am–except she could have bled to death.”

“Yes, that I think was a miscalculation.”

“The little minx.” I wondered just what went on in that head of hers.

Stephanie shrugged. “You have my mobile number, give me a shout if the SS try anything.”

“The SS?” then the penny dropped, social services. “Gotcha, thanks Steph.”

“You owe me a nice dinner.”

“When this is over, I’ll do you one.”

“You better had or I’ll have you sectioned,” she sniggered and after waving goodbye to Trish, left.

I settled down to read to her, when Sam Rose returned and had with him Dr Woods the casualty consultant. “Hello, young lady, you don’t remember me, do you?”

“Are you the one with cold hands?” she asked and he laughed and explained they’d used ice to slow the bleeding before she went into surgery. They both examined her and spoke for few minutes.

“Right, young un, if I let you go home tonight, do you promise to take things easy and not pull your stitches?”

Trish looked at him in disbelief, “I can go home, with Mummy?”

“Well, I was rather counting on her being there too.”

I felt tears fill my eyes and I thanked Sam who winked at me.

“You have to do very little walking for a day or so and if it starts to bleed or feel sore, you must tell your mummy so she can bring you back for me to see it.”

“What happens if you’re not here?” asked Trish.

“One of my team will see it for me–that good enough?”

“Okay.” She held out her hand and Dr Woods shook it. Sam stood behind him trying not to laugh his body was quaking with the effort and tears were rolling down my cheeks, I felt so emotionally wound up.

“Take her down in a chair, she is not to do excessive walking and certainly no running for a few days. She’ll need an iron supplement, she has quite a bit of blood to make up, so she’s going to be tired. But you can take her home. Bring her in to see Sam next week, okay?” he looked across to Sam who nodded.

“Thank you,” was all I could get out I felt so choked.

“I’m releasing her to your custody, which means I have every confidence in you as her mother and your family. I’m sure this is a one off.”

“Actually it was a two off,” said Sam sniggering.

“Smart arse, you know what I mean–she can’t actually do it again, can she?” continued Dr Woods.

“I promised you I wouldn’t do anything like this ever again,” piped a little voice from the bed.

“That’s right and we shook on it, so make sure you don’t.”

“I keep my word, ladies do, don’t they, Mummy?”

“Yes they do, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Lady Tricia.” The good doctor bowed to the bed and left laughing to himself.

I hugged Sam and thanked him. “Stephanie is coming for a meal soon, will you come too?”

“Cathy, don’t you have enough to do?”

“We have a nanny now, so things will be a little easier–please say you will?”

“Okay, but let’s all get over this first, right?”

I caught sight of movement behind Sam and Simon hove into view, “Dr Woods told me you needed a ride home.”

“Yes we do, Daddy, but you’ll have to drive tonight, I’m not allowed to exert myself,” answered a voice from the bed and we all fell about laughing.