Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1327.

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1327
by Angharad

Copyright © 2011 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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We stopped for our evening meal at a supermarket cafe and arrived home about eight, then it was baths and bed for the girls–including Meems, who’d had a nice day out with Simon–he spoils her rotten, I suspect Danny did well out of it too.

“How was your day?” asked Simon as we settled down with a hot drink before we went to bed ourselves.

“Okay–I laid the flowers on the grave after disturbing the son of the woman I pay to keep an eye on the place.”

“Disturbing him? From what?” Simon’s eyes were like tea plates.

“Screwing or about to screw his girlfriend.”

“What, in your house?”

“Yep. I sent him off with a flea in his ear after making him cut the lawns and her washing the bedding. I made them sit and have lunch with me and three giggling girls.”

“Sadist.”

“No, if I were that, I’d have phoned his mum. Instead I embarrassed them and sent them on their way.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, I ran into the priest who buried my parents and with whom I thought I had loads of issues.”

“You thought you did?”

“Yes, he seemed to have matured since his tub thumping days.”

“Oh good.”

“He’s still a patronising old twat.”

“I thought you said he’d matured?”

“Only a bit, he made me go back to the vicarage for a cup of tea, and then asked me about things.”

“What sort of things?”

“The kids calling me mother and so on. He seemed surprised that I’d got married–where was he when the Gender Recognition Act was passed?”

“On the moon?”

“Yeah, probably. He was also patronising when I explained I’d married an aristocrat.”

“In what way?”

“He suggested it was a double hit, not only to get a man but one with a title.”

“Oh–I suppose he’s right really, I am quite a catch.”

“Any more of that, buster an’ I’ll throw you back overboard.”

“Heartless hussy.”

“That’s me, so how was your day–not that I care of course.”

“Just for that, I shall tell you in excruciating detail.”

“Carry on–wake me when you finish,” I smirked back at him.

“You are the giddy limit, missus.”

“Yeah, so tell me something I don’t know.”

“Okay, I will–Danny scored two goals this morning.”

“Oh brilliant–did they win?”

“No, they lost three two.”

“But he did his bit by the sound of it.”

“He tried his best and I thought he deserved reward for his effort.”

“What did you buy him?”

“Some new trainers.”

I shook my head, “And what did Meems con you into buying?”

He blushed, “Con me? Ha–I’m a sophisticated banker type–no one gets money out of me...”

“Except your family–especially the girls in it.”

“Alright, I’m a generous banker type.”

“They twist you round their little fingers every time.”

“That’s your fault.”

My fault?”

“Yes, you adopt all these bloody waifs and strays, so I have to treat them like my children–which they are now.”

“Okay–guilty as charged–but you can say no to our children, I do all the time. It’s me you’re not allowed to say it to.”

“Ah, I knew there was a caveat somewhere.”

“Yeah, I keep it in the drawer under the bed.”

“But you’re allowed to say no to me?” he asked diffidently.

“Of course.”

“Isn’t that a tad unfair?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm,” he pouted–yes pouted–“Surely that isn’t right?”

“Only for you, I don’t have a problem with it.” How I managed to keep a straight face, I’ll never know. He is absolute rubbish at these mind games.

“Can’t we renegotiate these rules?”

“Why? I’m perfectly happy with them.”

“But I’m not sure I am.”

“Tough–what did you buy, Meems?”

“A shotgun.”

“Single or double barrel?”

“Pump-action.”

“I hope it was in pink.”

“With flowers on it.”

“Good–does it go bang, delicately? You know how girly she is.”

“Oh yes, it goes bangsy-wangsy, ever so delicately.”

“I see, anything else?”

“A pony, an Aston Martin and a private jet.”

“What no flying lessons?” I chided.

“I thought you were better qualified with broomsticks than I,” he smirked and won the round–the miserable sod. “You walked into that one, didn’t you?”

“Okay, but I nearly had you with the house rules.”

“True–that had me worried for a bit.”

“What did you buy her?”

“A couple of outfits for her dollies.”

“That all–you got off light.”

“Um–not quite, I also had to cough up for two new dollies, so that was ten outfits altogether.”

Now it was my turn to laugh, “You sucker.”

“I would be if I could get your bra off,” he fired back at me with a sparkle in his eye.

“C’mon then, let’s go to bed.”

Despite being asleep as soon as I’d washed after our acrobatics, I woke up after a dream. I hardly ever dream about my dad, but Mum features a bit more regularly. I suppose she was on my mind after visiting the grave–so I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?

I was remaking the bed after chasing the teenage lovers away putting the now clean linen back on my parent’s bed. My mother came in and thanked me for making the bed. “The flowers are beautiful, thank you so much, Cathy.”

When I looked round she was carrying a huge vase of flowers which she placed on a table by the side of the bed. I’d never seen the table before–not in our house, or Tom’s one, so which part of my febrile imagination that came from, I have no idea.

“Glad you like them, Mummy.”

“You’re such a nice girl, I’m so glad you weren’t a horrible boy.”

“But I was a horrible boy, Mummy,” I corrected.

“Not really, sweetheart, your father thought so and tried to make me support his efforts to turn you into one. Instead I showed you how to bake and sew, keep house and other female skills–what did he show you?–how to mend a puncture.”

“You knew I was girl?”

“Of course I did. You can fool men, even your father, but not your mother.”

“But you let him beat me, even reported me to him when I was doing embroidery–why?”

“I had to, otherwise he might have realised what I was doing. I never thought he’d beat you so hard, I thought he was just going to bawl you out.”

“But he didn’t–he nearly killed me–and I wanted to finish the job.”

“Yes–that was unfortunate–but the gods weren’t going to let you die until you’d fulfilled their mission.”

“Gods? Mission? You still talk in riddles, Mummy.”

“When it’s time all will be revealed.”

“Yeah sure, by Father Christmas I suppose.”

“Don’t be disrespectful, Catherine Watts.”

“It’s Catherine Cameron these days, Mummy, I’m a married woman–remember?”

“Of course you are–because you didn’t invite me to the wedding, I forget.”

“I couldn’t, Mummy, on account of you being dead.”

“Ah, that’s why–it’s alright, sweetheart, I forgive you.”

Talk about weird–I know dreams usually are but this was stranger than normal–if you see what I mean. At least we were amicable in it though it was probably wishful thinking about the housekeeping skills–or was it?

Did she have to teach me about hanging curtains and hemming them and coordinating colour schemes for rooms–for student rooms? I don’t think so. Geez, was it a dream? I shivered and cuddled up to Simon, who muttered something about scarlet. I’ll bet the bugger was dreaming about Scarlett Johanssen–randy sod, just you wait, Simon Cameron–just you wait.

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Comments

Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1327

With Cathy having dreams with her Mum in them, I am wondering if this is a set up for something that Cathy never thought possible.

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

Strange dreams continue

Enjoyed the banter between Cathy and Simon. Strange dreams though. Must be a message there somewhere. I'm sure Simon has a reason for "Scarlet" in his dreams.

Like a Fine Wine

littlerocksilver's picture

“Yes, he seemed to have matured since his tub thumping days.”

I think Cathy has matured a bit also. She is like a fine wine that will only get better with age: just the right combination of body, sweetness, a little piquancy perhaps. Complements lamb, chicken, oriental, pork, and beef tenderloin. She must be poured gently, to just the right depth to be fully appreciated. Though her vintage is rare, there will always be enough for friends and family.

Girl.jpg
Portia

Portia

I love the dream

... or was it? The romantic in me would like to believe that Cathy is being giving the gift of a bit of life with her mum even if she has passed on.

*sniff*

Kim

Can't comment.

Never remember my dreams, friends tell me everybody dreams, well maybe they do ... maybe I do but I never remember them. Wonder if that's got any significance.

Good chapter Angie.

Made me think.

Hugs.

XXX

Bev.

Growing old disgracefully.

bev_1.jpg

You know....

You know... It's times like these (okay and many other times... Okay most of the time...) where I'm glad my mom's still around... So I don't have these kind of dreams - at night. (I just have the notes suggesting that I continue to pretend to be a boy... *sighs*). Oh, by the way, that was some dream!

Interesting discussion there... Nice you let Simon "win" at the end. :-)

Thanks,
Anne

I know I'm repeating myself...

...but I really do enjoy the dialogue you regularly write for Cathy and Simon.

Thanks A+B: I can't help but wonder just how frequently Cathy is going to have these sorts of dreams.

Persiflage Superb


Bike Resources

Finally

Only took me 3 weeks to get from pt 1 to this part. Now I am going to be trying to wait patiently for continuing parts and probably failing miserably. Oh well, at least I have singing in the church choir to help me stay occupied for Maunday Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Vigil (saturday) and Easter Sunday.

geez and I thought I did well @ two months to catch up to

chapts 90 something in that period. do agree it's very adictive. and currently i'm a bit behind because I was force'd off internet due to surguries and rehab that while I actually had lots of time on hands, certain pain meds, etc...kept my brain cells quite abit unfocussed. i'm quite well now, and reading up a storm to get caught back up.
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well dammit, everytime I actually think kathy learns a lesson, she disapponts me in later chapters by making comments as she did in telling Simon about her day. Maybe unconsciously she's soaking it in. but Def not awake is she doing it....
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I did find curiously tho, she is starting to realize her Mom must have known something...because Yes, she's got too many skills a boy normally wouldnt have been taught even if he'd asked .. and even stranger yet, the other adults, older kids havent noticed, just assumed cause she presents as a woman, she ha them from birth, not skills honed by actual practice.
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Just as she's been teachng her children, spec. Trish whom is almost always around the kitchen helping out.
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I just sat here for a few minutes looking what i'd just writen and YES, she actually been doing alot of that to the children in teaching things, typical of a Mom. but not necessarily to Danny cept when he more or less volunteer to learn such. most interesting
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hmmmm - I know this is a story...not psychology 101 class reading assignment, but, ANG, you sure are putting in alot of REAL LIFE stuff in here, and making the reader look seriously at even moral stuff we normally would of dismissed in course of reading a story and sometimes enjoying.
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oh boy...maybe those meds i'm taking is taking me tooo far inbetween the lines ... .......... posting a story on website that's truely a psychology 101 examination in what and how we think & process it.
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EEEEPS !!!!! I'm sure I lost it now ... now... lol
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well maybe i might have lost it...but lucky for me i just looked @ clock before I hit enter to POST this... it's 1:15 AM and TOPSHELF server normally must have some sort of maintainance between 1AM and 1:30AM every day cause I always get locked out for that 1/2 hour... so least I caught it and paste this post to something TEMP till it's back up

(SMILES)