The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2275 by Angharad Copyright © 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

We stood at the window and watched the hailstorm its particles of frozen water pinging off the glass. It lasted perhaps two minutes and for another five or so the ground was white, then as it turned to rain proper, much of it was washed away to form strandlines of white around the higher surfaces of the drive and garden.

“I thought you were going for a walk?” I teased Stella.

“Why, you want to come?”

“Ah no, I have to get tea ready,” I wimped.

“Ha, after what they had for lunch they won’t need feeding ’til next Sunday.”

“I’ll come,” said Julie much to my surprise. They went off to dress up against the elements. I went upstairs to put some ironing away and noticed that Danni’s door was ajar and voices were emanating from within. I know they say that listeners hear nothing good about themselves, I was just curious as to what they were doing.

“Why did you squabble with your mum?” asked Cindy.

“Daft bat said that things had changed and I was now the girl and you were the boy–in a technical sense.”

“That’s crazy, I’ve been a girl longer than you–and you get surgery first–that’s no fair.”

“Yeah, I know–but as she pointed out, you’ve still got your todger, I haven’t.”

“Oh, so, Miss Cameron, I’m still a boy am I? Well you’d better get some spray on starch ’cos that’s about the only way it’ll ever get hard again.”

“Ooh, be careful with me, I could get pregnant,” said Danni in a Minnie Mouse voice. They both collapsed into laughter and I had to smile myself. Had I been unreasonable? I didn’t know what their relationship was–I hoped just two girlfriends, so they’d talk about clothes and contemporary culture, makeup and possibly boys or even girls they fancied.

I tapped on the door, “Hi, girls...”

“Look out it’s the thought police,” said Danni.

“I’m making a pot of tea, would you like some?”

Danni shrugged but Cindy said she would. I handed Danni her ironing and asked her to hang it carefully in her wardrobe.

“Huh, my mum makes me do my own,” complained Cindy, adding, “Shall I come down and get the teas?” I nodded as she followed me down stairs.

“Danni was saying you saw me as the boy in our relationship.”

“I was trying to point out how things had changed. I don’t see you as a boy, Cindy, but at the same time I don’t know what your relationship is now, given the changes.”

“We’re just friends.”

“That was what I assumed the relationship was with Pia and we al know what happened there, Danni very nearly died.”

“OMG,” she said and I gasped. I’d heard that people said it but had never heard it. Is this literally, ‘text speak,’? LOL.

“I’ve never quite got to the bottom of what exactly happened and I don’t know if Danielle can actually tell me now, given the amnesia associated with shock and blood loss.”

“I don’t know, Lady C. I heard then talking about it ages ago, where Danni was saying if she didn’t have her nuts, the hormones would work quicker. Pia offered to remove them for her but she pooh-poohed it saying, like you did your own–no thanks. Then Pia told her she could do a better job on Danni.”

“Why didn’t you tell us before?” I asked as the kettle boiled.

“I thought they were just messing about, I never thought they do anything.”

“Didn’t you realise that Pia is as mad as a March hare?”

“I was coming to the conclusion that she was different to us, yeah, she was bonkers, some of her ideas were plain crazy.”

“Like what?”

“She said if people got rid of their head hair they could wear wigs and be different each day. Like I get rid of this.” Cindy touched her long hair, “No way.”

“I worry about Danni, she’s very vulnerable at the moment. Did she tell you she made a mistake?”

“OMG,” she said it again–geez. “No, she never said nothing to me.”

“You see my problem?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe she’d want to be a boy again.”

“I don’t think she could anyway, but that’s a matter of opinion. I’d like to see her make a go of being a girl because I think she could succeed, but I’d be grateful for you to help me keep an eye on her.”

“You want me to spy on her?”

“No, I just want you to be aware she has this conflict inside her and that she is now female whether she likes it or not. If she’s having problems with it–with being a girl–I’d be grateful if you let me know, so I can help her.”

“I don’t know, it still sounds like spying to me.”

“Look, she tried to harm herself the other week, I don’t want her to succeed in another attempt.”

“OMG,” a text speak parrot?

“If you like her as much as she does you, you’ll try to help me keep her safe.”

“Okay, that’s different.”

I poured the tea and she took a tray of tea and biscuits upstairs. I didn’t know how much help she’d actually be, when Danni goes to school, she might be useful but at the moment I knew more of what was happening in Danni’s life than she did.

The rain stayed off for a couple of hours and Stella and Julie with her two little ones and my two–well my one and Lizzie came back with roses in their cheeks. Cate and Fiona had mud splashed up their legs where they’d been puddle jumping and–you get the idea, so they got stripped off and rushed up to the shower to get clean and the washing machine was in action yet again. Did I mention it was an industrial one like they put in launderettes?

Nobody seemed interested in eating again, even Simon wasn’t hungry–but then he’d eaten most of the crackling. I was surprised he wasn’t sick. He’d also had much of the wine and was asleep in the lounge–the winter Olympics were on but he wasn’t; the Merlot had switched him off.

I boiled the kettle once again and sat down with Stella and Julie for a quick girly goss. I asked her when she was supposed to be doing the double date with Sammi.

“Oh that should have been last week. He works for the Environment Agency and had to go to Somerset for something or other.”

“I think a few hundred square miles of concentrated moisture.” I said and Stella smirked.

“What?”

“They have severe flooding in Somerset, and now in the Thames valley.”

“Since when?” she gasped.

“In the West Country, about six weeks.”

“Where have you been?” asked Stella sniggering, “Hadn’t you noticed the precipitation?”

“If you mean rain–yeah, it’s gettin’ on me tits.” I suppose that’s one way of describing it, being rather more genteel I’d say something else.

And so it went on for about twenty minutes before I had to get up and do some more ironing, Julie ignoring the hints I was throwing at her and of course Stella disappeared very rapidly, though she does do her own and the girls’ laundry.