The return of the bike, will she fall off again?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 107.

I was excited as I drove to Gloucester to collect my bike. I was going to put it inside the car, even if I had to take both wheels off, bike wheels that is. Taking wheels off the car would be rather unhelpful. Following Chocolate Mike's directions, I made it there in just over an hour once I got clear of Bristol, and the ubiquitous road works. At one point I listened to three tracks of Abba without the traffic moving at all.

For a change I was in jeans and a Portsmouth Uni sweatshirt, I thought it better to be prepared for messing about with bikes and cars. I'd also found an old curtain I could cover the bike with to keep oil from the carpet or seats in the car, and it would disguise what was in the car.

Mike lived in an old rectory, or part of one. The house was divided in half with the original huge garden split into two large ones. He was busy picking potatoes when I arrived and his wife or girlfriend called him from the garden.

"You must be Cathy?" he extended a huge hand which dwarfed mine, his hands were like the proverbial shovels.

"Yes I am, thanks so much for helping me recover my bike."

"That's okay," he smiled a set of white teeth beaming through a grizzled beard. He was as tall as Simon and even broader. "Anything to help a friend of Simon's."

He led me into the house where Gina, his wife, as I learned a few minutes later, was busy brewing coffee. I'm not much of a coffee drinker, it makes me want to wee even quicker than tea, but it smelt absolutely gorgeous.

We sat in the lounge and he regaled me with the story of how he had monitored ebay and made the sting. It turned out he was a retired copper, he'd been shot and it damaged his leg, so rather than face a desk job he went freelance as a private investigator. Judging by the size of his house, it obviously paid quite well.

I was aware that I'd left the breadmaker on and that I had soup to sort out for my dad, I explained I had to get back and he took me to see my bicycle. It was mine okay, there was a tiny scratch I'd patched with nail varnish which was exactly where I knew it would be. He helped me load it into my car and we only needed to remove the front wheel after I put the back seats down.

I thanked him again and left for home. The drive back became extra boring once the rain started and I was once more left singing along to Abba as I almost swam my way back through the roadworks. It sure did rain, reminding me of the day that started all of this adventure and my chance encounter with Stella. Little did I realise how much it would change my life. I said to my bike, "Look Scottie, I have enough adventure in my life just now, so although I have you back and will be riding you again as soon as I can, I don't need any more excitement other than whizzing along on you. Got it?"

Anyone listening would have thought me crazy, but I wasn't taking any chances with the bike this time. I'd wondered about the police needing the bike as evidence, but apparently they knew Mike and he got them to agree to a series of photos and his statement, plus that of Lord Stanebury, which tipped the balance. I knew his title would come in handy some time, having said that it didn't impress me one bit, I loved Simon for who he was not for bits of silver spoons in his gob or up his backside for all I cared. I'm not a forelock tugger, but the prospect of meeting one of the wealthiest men in the UK did make me feel uneasy.

What would Earl of Stanebury do when he found out what I was or had been? Have me murdered? I shuddered at the thought. I would have to work hard to be my charming self and make him like me, then he might think I was gold digging. Oh bugger, I couldn't win, so I'd just be myself, if he caught me on an off day, too bad. I could give as good an impression of PMS as any woman I knew.

Home and my bike safely esconced in the garage, and locked to a wall unit. I locked the garage and went inside. The bread was done and I set about knocking up a quick potato and leek soup for my dad. I was finding my way around the kitchen too easily, at this rate I was going to end up as a hausfrau, and even for Simon that wasn't what I wanted to do. For my dad, no way! I felt a twinge of guilt but a paracetamol would deal with that if necessary!

I did my duty and saw my father. He was brighter today and more chatty. I told him I'd got my bike back and would deal with the insurance company afterwards. He was pleased and told me to take the money he'd offered me anyway, as an early Christmas present. I refused and he got irritated and began to mix up his words. He tried to tell me that he had neglected me all these years and wanted to make it up to me.

I decided I wasn't playing. "Daddy, I love you but I won't be bought by you or Simon or anyone else. I'm an independent soul and I'm going to finish my PhD before I worry about anything else. As you couldn't be bothered to give me the money when I really needed it, you can keep it now." I kissed him on the cheek and left, warning him I would call tomorrow but was going back down to Portsmouth afterwards and couldn't guarantee I'd be in on thursday. I was busy on friday and saturday, so didn't expect to be in.

I saw him shrink back in his chair and the tears flowed down his cheeks. It cut me to the quick, but I smiled and left.

I was in combative mood that afternoon and fell out with the woman at the insurance company too. She tried to tell me that my excess, that is the money I had to pay to activate my insurance claim, was non-refundable. I actually swore at her and she put the phone down.

Next I decided to check out if my mother's bank account had been closed down, it had and I found a will she had left. I didn't realise she had so much money, according to that she left everything to my dad other than ten grand which she left to me. Wow, no wonder he's been so generous, I wondered if that was the most recent will.

I phoned her solicitor, the conversation was surreal and I won't relate it to you here, but they asked me attend their office. It was four o'clock, but they told me they could wait for me until five.

I grabbed my ID stuff, including my change of name form, changed quickly into a skirt and top, the denim one again, popped on the jacket and my boots and rushed off.

"Hi, Cathy Watts to see Mr Potter," I smiled at the receptionist.

She smirked at me, obviously aware of my secret and showed me through to her boss. I flashed him a smile and he held out his hand to me, "How do you do mist...um, Miss Watts."

I sat at the side of his desk as he opened the files and showed me the will, exactly the same as the one I'd seen at home. I showed my proof of identity including the form Dr Thomas had given me.

"The will is straightforward enough, and we don't anticipate any difficulties with it. Her share of the house goes to your father as does all the rest of her property with the exception of ten thousand pounds which she bequeathed to Charles her son."

"Now Cathy."

"Exactly," he pulled at his collar. He was about fifty-something and wore a grey suit, probably from Marks and Spencers, as were his white shirts and perhaps even his shoes and socks. His silk tie bearing a picture of Bugs Bunny, was most likely a Christmas present from one of his kids. I suspected his wife bought all his clothes for him, he was wearing a wedding ring.

"The reason I asked you to attend is that you have power of attorney for your father at the moment, so you could sign these release forms for us."

"Not without speaking to him first, and I'm not his favourite daughter at the moment, I upset him this afternoon."

"Oh, you said not his favourite daughter, is there someone else we don't know about?"

"No, it was a figure of speech. The old buzzard is trying to get me to stay home and look after him when he's well enough to leave hospital or a rehab place. I told him that I was going to continue my doctorate."

"Oh I see, what are you studying?" he suddenly became more friendly as if I'd become more valuable because I was doing a degree.

"Dormice."

"Dormice, how lovely, where are you doing it?"

"Portsmouth."

"Not with Agnew?"

"Yes, do you know him?"

"My own daughter is there doing her BSc."

"Oh yes," I smiled at him, "What's her name?"

"Harriet, but ever since those blessed books came out, she's called herself by her second name, Judy."

"Sorry, what books?" he'd lost me.

"Those Harry Potter books, we used to call her Harry."

"Oh yes those books," I smiled. I didn't mention the ribbing I got about the Rolling Stones with my old name. Then I thought maybe I would as it would show a good reason to change it, then I saw that could be a mistake, so I didn't.

"So are you involved in this new government survey thing?"

"The mammal survey, absolutely, I'm leading the rodent aspect of it, Bristol is doing Mustelidae." His look of uncertainty caused me to explain, "Badgers, otters and things like weasels and stoats. They're also doing foxes. Inverness are doing squirrels and wildcats. York is doing deer, and Prof Agnew is coordinating it all."

"So you'll be doing rats and mice and assorted other vermin?"

"Yep, although some mice are protected."

"They are?"

"Harvest mice."

"Oh, of course."

"I shall be setting up a team of researchers, as the dormice keep me busy by themselves."

"Yes probably the cutest of the rodents, eh?"

"Probably and one of the hardest to locate, which was the original attraction."

"Are you doing hares and bunnies?"

"No, they're lagamorphs not rodents. I think someone from London might be looking after them, can't remember."

"Right, Miss Watts, good luck with your research, keep an eye out for Judy, she may be able to help."

"I shall. Now what about these releases?"

He showed me the documents and it was only to pay off some bills and close up my mother's account.

"I thought you had to wait for six months in case any other creditors appear."

"Oh we will, but we can have everything ready to wind up before then."

"Are you sure I have the authority to do this?"

He looked over my letter of attorney as accepted by the bank, and asked me to sign. I did but with misgivings.

We shook hands and I left, he wished me success with my research and my voyage of self-discovery and if he could help, you know the stuff. I decided that I wouldn't use him if he was the last solicitor on earth, didn't like his patronising attitude until he discovered I was cleverer than he was. As for his daughter, she could go take a running jump if she was as creepy as him, Harry Potter, ha bloody ha!

It was nearly dark when I got home and I just wanted to go in and do a bit more work on my project before I set off to Portsmouth tomorrow. If I had time I would pop in and see my prof, I sent him an email.

He replied, 'Hi Cathy, glad you're managing some work as well as looking after your dad. I look forward to seeing your proposals for the survey. I'm still waiting for you to come to dinner with me, I could do with a pretty face to cheer me up and laugh at my jokes. I hope you have someone accompanying you on your survey work? It's different for girls, you know.'

Suddenly, everyone was an expert on being female, especially men who usually saw women primarily as sex objects. Maybe that was why they were warning me, in case people like them were about. At dead of night and in deep woodland, a bit unlikely. However, I was glad Simon was going with me tomorrow night.