The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2299 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I came away from lunch thinking that perhaps Hilary was a lot nicer to work with than I at first thought. She’s got a bit of growing up to do but once she does, she’ll be a real boon to know. I wish I could help her with the leg. The scarring is nasty but not that bad—well, okay it is that bad and her legs are a bit thick as well, but even so in the warm weather, it’s nice to be able to wear skirts or shorts. Then again, I suppose I did fight quite hard for the privilege to wear them, even though I often wear jeans or other trousers.

I spent some time trying to tune into her energies but she’s so defensive about her leg, it’s nigh on impossible. Perhaps I’ll try again later. I drove home and did the reading up I needed to refresh my memory about the different staining media—for microscope slides—just checking. It’s quite a while since I did it all. I might be the fastest microtome in the west, but I can’t remember everything. Oh yeah, a microtome, is a device we use for the cutting of sections, usually it’s got some sort of screw at the end which enables you to advance the stuff at the end by a thousandth of an inch or so which means that when you slice it off with a scalpel it’s pretty thin. The more expensive ones also have some sort of cutter on the end so cutting sections is quicker. In somewhere like a hospital lab that might be very important.

Life is never how you plan it. I got home and expected to have an hour before I needed to go and get the mouseketeers. Instead, as soon as I entered the house Jacquie thrust Lizzie in my arms and said abruptly, “Here, you see if you can calm her down, I’m off.”

The baby was hot and bothered with tear stains down her face and cheeks which were flushed. I felt her forehead, I didn’t think she was running a temperature, but with babies it can be dangerous—they can fit if they get too hot. I pulled off her cardi and she started crying again.

By pushing my finger in her mouth I discovered she was teething and probably the cause of the problem. I gave her a small dose of Calpol—a paracetamol based pain killer and antipyretic (brings temperatures down) for children. Half an hour later she seemed much more like her usual self, though her nappies were stained more than usual—I’d heard that teething sometimes causes them to have stronger urine, don’t know why.

Jacquie came back an hour later, “I knew you had to collect the girls, is she any calmer?”

“She’s sleeping now.”

“She’s probably exhausted.”

“She’s teething.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“It’s easy to miss and they can get their nappies twisted.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m off to collect me a set of wonderful children who never gripe or whinge or squabble.”

“Where would you get those?”

“A taxidermist.” I said and left her chortling behind me.

I’d left a sticky note on the medicine bottle stating how much and when I’d given it. It’s five mils for a baby of her age every four hours, so we shouldn’t be at the hospital every two minutes checking she hasn’t been overdosed. I was pretty sure that Lizzie would sleep for a few hours so just asked Jacquie to check her every so often until I got back.

I was listed as her foster mother, so the responsibility lay with me, even though Phoebe was a closer relative being the baby’s aunt. However, Phoebe wasn’t the maternal sort, or not at present. In fact she hadn’t mentioned Neal for some weeks and when I last went to see him she declined to come with me. Mind you, it was pretty depressing, at times he seems worse or certainly no better. It’s as if his mind has gone into a deep withdrawal from the world, so deep he can no longer reach it so he just has to wait around to see if it comes back to him. As he was such a vital person before, it really hurts to see him like this. I’ve tried the blue energy but it does nothing—or seems not to.

While I was dealing with tiny wee, I had a clear message of how to deal with Hilary’s leg. I just hoped it would work. I’d try it tomorrow. Meanwhile, I had to collect the horde from school.

They were all deep in conversation when they ambled up to the car and got in without as much as a, ‘by your leave.’ Something had happened involving Danni, as she’d only been there a few days I wanted to know the ins and outs and fast.

The jabbering continued ignoring me until I raised my voice. “No need to shout, Mummy,” came the rebuke from Einstein.

“Isn’t there? So far no one has actually taken the time to check that I’m actually here. I mean I could be a hologram.”

“No, you need some sort of projector for that.” You know who said that.

“No what happened today?”

“Nothing much, why?”

“Danni, is that true?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

That struck me as a peculiar thing to say. “So tell me what happened in school today.”

“I did religious studies—that was quite interesting.”

“And?”

“French and science, then lunch and this afters we did maths and English and homecraft.”

“Homecraft?”

“Yeah, you know sewing and cooking—how to drown baby—the usual stuff.”

“Please don’t say that in front of Jacquie.”

“Why—oh yeah, course not.”

“You’d better tell her,” instructed Livvie.

“Tell me what?”

“Um—Portsmouth ladies contacted the school to ask if I could be released early on a Wednesday for training.”

“I thought you had to be a member of the team before you gave a commitment to training?”

“Oh didn’t I tell you that bit—they’ve accepted me, the contract is in the post.”

“I’m glad that you found it possible to tell me eventually.”

They all fell about laughing and Trish and Livvie high fived.

“Okay, I know I’m going to regret asking, but what was all that about?”

“Trish bet me that you’d make a remark about being the last to know.”

I’ll have to keep her away from one armed bandits, she seems to enjoy betting on things. I know officially she’s too young to gamble but then she seems to find her way round problems like she’s much older. Sometimes it frightens me, while at others I am in abject fear for her health and well being. That huge brain doesn’t have the experience it occasionally needs for the tasks in hand and she reverts to being a nine year old—that can be really scary.

“I need to pop in the health food shop on the way home.”

“What for?”

“Something to make little girls less impertinent.” Trish sat down and folded her arms. The baleful look she gave me surprised me in so far as I didn’t spontaneously combust. I needed something to be able to enact my plan for tomorrow, so she’d have to wait for a few minutes. I know, I’m a dreadful mother—but on the positive side, I’d make an even worse father.