(aka Bike) Part 979 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad
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“I’m going to see about having her removed,” grumbled Stella, still whingeing about the young woman at the hotel.
“She’s only been there a couple of months, give her a chance for goodness sake.”
“Give her a chance to do what?”
“To learn her job. It takes time you know–I’ll bet you weren’t an expert nurse in five minutes.”
“No it took me at least six.” She grinned at me, “How tall do you reckon she was?”
“Oh give over, the poor kid can’t help being tall.”
“She towered over you.”
“So? What is your point?”
“Well with all these weirdos changing sex, she wasn’t another one was she?”
“No.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“She has a young child.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw a photo in her purse.”
“I don’t remember her getting her purse out.”
“She lifted it out of her bag to get her pen which had fallen to the bottom of her bag. You probably couldn’t see it, but she has a youngster–a boy I think.”
“Well maybe she should go home and look after him instead of mucking up her job. I think it’s ridiculous that we should have to pay to use our own hotel.”
“Stella, the place is a business, we’ll get it at a discount anyway. Why should they give it to us free of charge?”
“Because the family owns it.”
“But if they owned a supermarket, would you expect to get free goods from it?”
“That’s different.”
“No it isn’t, they have to pay their staff, they have to pay for goods and food. I’m happy with the discount she thought was possible.”
“No wonder we lost the British Empire, people like you and Chris Patten gave it away.”
“Chris Patten was governor of Hong Kong, I’m a housewife. I don’t see the comparison.”
“He gave away Hong Kong, you’re giving away your heritage as a member of the Cameron family.”
“That’s a very tenuous association, Stella, besides he’s a Tory, I’m a card carrying Guardian reader.”
“You’re certainly Bolshie enough.”
“Nah, I’m more Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité and the pursuit of dormice.”
“Dormice? Shouldn’t that be happiness?”
“Only if you’re American; besides I’m happy when pursuing dormice.”
“I thought it was when you were with your children, or riding your bike, or with Simon?”
“I guess I lucked out on happiness.”
“You’re a jammy sod, Cathy, imagine all the drivers in all the world and you had to crash into me–the one person who could offer you a portal to complete fulfilment and happiness.”
“As I recall, Stella–it was you who crashed into me.”
“That’s a mere detail.”
“Mere details can be quite important in apportioning blame, Stella.”
“Ah, you’re no better than all the rest, blaming someone, anyone as long as it isn’t you. No wonder the country’s in such a mess, what with you and that Chris Patten bloke.”
“Isn’t Lord Patten Chancellor of Oxford University?” I challenged.
“Probably, those failed politician types always come out on top.”
“For a failure, he’s been remarkably successful.”
“Fiddlesticks,” she grumbled and went off to check on Puddin’.
“I’ve done my invites, Mummy.” Livvie handed me a pile of envelopes. I counted twenty four.
“You’re inviting your teacher and Sister Maria?” I asked in surprise.
“Yes, Mummy, I think they could do with a nice party and they could help with the washing up afterwards.”
“No, you and Trish have to do that–it should only take you about three hours if you take it in turn to wash and wipe, say every hour.”
She looked at me with a pout and then laughed, “You’re telling me fibs, Mummy.”
“Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Do you have to do the washing up with Daddy and Auntie Stella?”
“Only if the cheque bounces, kiddo.”
“What’s a cheque?”
“Never mind, it’s a way of paying for things–but I don’t use them very often these days.”
“You have to pay?”
“Yes, darling, someone has to pay for your party.”
“Oh, I thought it was free.”
It was me who adopted her not Stella, wasn’t it? “No, sweetheart, everything has to be paid for–very little is free, only fresh air and love.”
“Is it going to cost you a lot of cheques?”
“It’s quite expensive, so enjoy it while you can. Next year may be scaled down significantly.”
“What do you mean, Mummy?”
“You might have to make do with something smaller, it depends upon how much money we have for parties and things next year.”
“Will you be poor next year?”
“I don’t know, darling.” Just then my mobile rang. “Hello?”
“Hey, Babes, put the telly on, I’m in the news.”
“You haven’t done anything awful have you?”
“Just watch the telly, BBC1.”
“But the news is on.”
“Well–duh, news usually is on a news bulletin.”
Still holding my phone I went into the lounge where I changed channels much to the annoyance of the children.
”High Street Banks report a record profit for the first quarter of this year, of four billion pounds, most of which comes from their investment section. The chairman Lord Stanebury, said he was very pleased with their performance which was up a third on the same time last year considering the challenging trading conditions. High Street, is the largest privately owned bank in the UK and possibly, the whole of Europe.
“Reports that it’s ripe for a takeover by a larger European or US bank have been rejected by Lord Stanebury, who is the largest shareholder in this family owned bank. ‘There’s no one we would consider worthy of looking after our clients as well as we do. Besides, I wouldn’t sell for all the tea in China.’
“Simon Cameron, who runs the investment side of the bank, said he was very pleased by the upturn in business and the support the government had shown to the banking industry. He also said High St had been fortunate in not becoming involved with toxic loans from the US sub-prime mortgage affair, which had given it a flying start over the other banks."
“Was that Daddy on the news?” asked Trish.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“Is he famous?”
“He’s respected in his field.”
“Daddy’s in a field?”
“Not literally, darling.” Why do I dig these holes for myself? “It’s an expression which means the type of work he does.”
“I thought he worked in a bank not a field, Mummy?”
Oh boy, maybe I should just go to bed and stay there until they’re all at least twenty five.
“Why is he inspected, Mummy?”
“Not inspected, respected. He’s made his bank a lot of money.”
“Does that mean you can pay for my party?” asked Livvie.
“I hope so, I sincerely hope so.”
Comments
Yay!
I get first comment!
Unfortunately, I don't really have anything to say....
Except a little something I was thinking about. You can't quit at a round 1,000 episodes! There are a lot of geeks out there waiting for episode 1024(KiloBike!)!
Thanks Ang!
Abby
Very Punny
Would you mind if I groaned loudly now?
YES!
nice job and seems so appropriate after the discussions in the episode.
Oh dear!
While the news about the bank is good, I can't help but fear that it's going to make them a target for another nefarious group looking to acquire a money laundry.
Profits Scrubbed
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Nefarious group
sometimes known as the British government, Which i expect will rub its hand together when they hear just how much money High Street Bank made last year.
Kirri
It pays to be careful....
When talking about money around our kids. They are so giving. At one time or another, many probably go to their parents offering their piggy banks to help pay bills. I recall a friend of my daughter offering to sell her toys to help pay for bills (they were selling one of their cars to cover expenses).
It can be hard explaining that it's really okay - when they get it into their heads that there's a problem, it's hard to convince them otherwise.
Thanks for this episode,
Annette
The Daily Dormouse-979
Cathy and Simon will need to talk to the kids about the news and be ready for a kidnapping attempt as well.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
[grin] The logic of small
[grin]
The logic of small children. I know it well.....
Couldn't stop
laughing as I read the conversation between Cathy and Livvie. Aren't kids fun.
The pursuit of dormice
I do hope Cathy's not going to take up blood sports, now she's a member of the aristocracy. Riding to hounds against dormice would just be unseemly, I think.
Cheers,
Puddin'
-
Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
Not against dormice...
But she would probably ride against creatures that rip up hedgerows or hazels or otherwise destroy the habitat of Muscardinus avellanarius. I believe these foul habitat destroying creatures may be referred to as Homo sapiens farmerensis, Homo sapiens bigprofitus or possibly even Homo sapiens clarksonus...
Way back in the beginning, Simon showed a little concern about two drains on his credit cards. He ain't seen nothing yet! :D Especially as after Livvie's party, someone else will be wanting a similarly-scaled event when it's her turn in September. Then if planning parties for five year olds wasn't bad enough, two tween boys will probably want some form of lavish celebration, then next December, barely a week after Cathy's own birthday, someone will no doubt be expecting a set of driving lessons. "And no, you can't have Stella as your driving instructor :D"
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
Hunting...
...is a sure way to set Cathy off. For instance, consider this excerpt from Part 89:
Something tells me Cathy's definitely not about to take up blood sports.
Preempting Sanguineness
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The only thing wrong...
with her scheme is she has the order backwards.
>> they should shoot the bloody dogs and the horses and then the fucking riders.â€
Cheers,
Puddin'
-
Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
That Reminds Me Of An Old Joke
That reminds me of an old joke about the farmer. Why was the farmer given an award?
Answer: He was outstanding in his field.
This episode was one of the funniest with the way that everything was taken so literally and misunderstood. The more she explained the funnier it was.
Ouch
... now that is one joke that should've been left fallow :)
Kim
In a similar vein...
Q. What do you call three farmers out standing in a field?
A. {Highlight to read} A thicket!
Pastoral Sarcasm
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Cute
(the highlight - not the joke)
Small children, Livvie's
Small children, Livvie's age, can get words so tangled up because they don't know the meanings to a lot of them yet. Cathy trying to correct her was really funny as she was getting frustrated by trying to explain to a soon to be 6 year old what was going on. I can see Trish understanding what Simon did, perhaps Cathy should get her to explain it all to Livvie, Meems and maybe even Stella. Jan
Trish
What do you call a brunet sitting between two blonds. An interpreter.
What do you call a blond sitting between two brunets. Confused.
You need to explain it to Trish first, and she'll pass it down (with amusing additions).
I knew I missed this Posting
See only us Mericans can freely pursue happiness. Every one else needs a permitn
Cefi