The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2662 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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It was a fait accompli from the start, Danielle had no chance of catching me especially downhill, where my extra bodyweight would count in my favour; not to mention my better technique and experience and probably strength.

I waited for her for a good few minutes before she arrived at the bottom. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes watering. “Overtake any cars?” she asked.

“Not quite, did you?”

“No, can’t go fast enough.”

“I used to do it at your age.”

“Score any goals?” she asked.

“Touché.”

“You started it.”

“Shall we stop the yapping and get home?”

“Okay with me,” she said and led off.

We did the odd sprint here and there on the way back and on one occasion she nearly beat me by trickery pretending not to hear me so when I drew up behind her to repeat the instructions which she’d heard the first time, she shot off like a rocket. It caught me unawares and I really had to go some to catch her. I did but only metres from the line. I was still breathing hard when we arrived at home.

“Feel better?”

“Do you care?” I replied to Simon.

“If I didn’t why would I bother wasting my breath?”

“I do thank you.”

“I’m glad. David is waiting for you to shower before he dishes up.”

“Okay, I won’t be long.” I ran up the stairs with Danni hot on my heels and we parted to use our separate bathrooms. Fifteen minutes later, my hair was mostly dry and I was dressed in jeans and top. Danni emerged a moment later looking immaculate with makeup on and wearing a skirt and blouse plus tights and shoes.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To lunch, just thought I’d dress up a little for it.”

“You look gorgeous, darling.”

“Thank you, Mummy, you don’t look half bad yourself.”

“Had I known we were in competition I’d have made more of an effort,” I said aware I was blushing slightly.

“You’d have won hands down, Mummy, and I don’t want to compete with you.”

“You don’t need to, sweetheart, I can’t compete with the charm and innocence of early teen years.”

She smirked before responding with, “Well I can’t compete with the experience and sophistication of my mother, who is beautiful beyond compare.”

“What are you after?”

“Not a lot, but a ride to Cindy’s would be good.”

“Do they know you’re coming?”

“Not exactly.”

“Better go and phone her then.”

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialled Cindy who must have been almost sat on hers, she picked up so quickly. “I asked her and she said it was okay and she’d bring me over.”

“That wasn’t quite the conversation I remember having, Danielle.”

“Yeah, they say you forget the details of things as you start to age.”

“Must be that then.” I decided not to play games with her—least, not in the way she expected me to play.

“Oh—yeah, must,” she smirked as we entered the kitchen where everyone else was seated. If nothing else we got a round of applause.

In the words of the prophet, do unto others as we would they do unto us—but get your retaliation in first. “Sorry we’re late, I had to wait while Danni put her face on.”

“Couldn’t you have done that after lunch?” Simon gently criticised her and she gave me a shocked and then revengeful look, just waiting to hit out at something of mine if not me. Danni saw Simon was unlikely to allow any direct criticism of me, so she let discretion be the better part of value and kept her powder dry.

The meal was a delicious roast pork dinner with all the trimmings, though as I don’t like apple sauce—that’s not true, I do like pureed apple but not with roast pork, I prefer it with custard and a crumble top. Anyway, the meal was lovely and we thanked David who sat with us and ate some as well—he does occasionally.

Then after a quick clean up, I took Danielle to Cindy’s whose mother agreed to run her back. I reminded them it was a school day the next day so to be home at a reasonable time. I knew I was wasting my breath but I felt I had to say it, then it was home to spend some time with the rest of my brood.

I got back to discover, Trish, Livvie, Meems and Cate had gone for a walk with their Gramps and Kiki, to feed the ducks. Stella was watching Lizzie as Julie and Phoebe were at the salon packing stuff up for their move the next day.

The new salon was all fitted out and had space for two beauty therapy rooms so they could do things like facials and massages or even tanning. Phoebe already could do electrolysis but they were looking at the cost of laser hair removal although I’d heard mixed reports of it, including the regrowth of coarse white hair which even electrolysis was unable to banish. Having blonde or fair hair in places I might want it removed, I was aware laser was no use to me anyway because it requires pigment in the hair to carry the light into the follicle. Blonde or red hair has little pigment in it, as does grey hair.

Jacquie was out with a friend and Sammi was busy with writing some computer program and thus incommunicado with the rest of the planet. Simon was on ther phone to Henry about something and indicated he could be some time so I popped Lizzie in the car seat and we went to see how her big sisters were coping with the move.

As I had to keep an eye on the baby I couldn’t do too much except make cups of tea. Apparently the guy who’d bought their old shop was a barber. I hadn’t seen one of them since I was a kid when my dad made me attend one every couple of months for a short back and sides. I hated it, especially when he used the clipper things on the back of my neck and when I got to age ten I refused to go anymore. My dad was furious but Mum took my part and I began to grow my hair so by twelve I had hair almost as long as many of the girls and I was so lucky because it was just as luxuriant.

Until I went away to uni, my dad and I argued about my hair practically every time we met. It was the one battle he lost because I refused to have it cut, except to clean up the split ends. In buying my mother’s support, it always had to be clean, conditioned and tied back tidily when in school. In her words, “If you’re going to have hair like a girl, then you can look after it like one.” I did and still do.