The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3011 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 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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When you have two teenage or just under teenage girls, squabbling over whose is what’s, it tends to disturb the peace. When you have five of them doing it, it verges on a full riot.

I know it’s my own fault, being unable to pass up on waifs and strays but I wasn’t doing very much that day so... Actually, except for the amount of the cleaning and feeding required, I quite like having a house full of young people. Hark at me, Granny Cameron—not a role I’ll be able to play for many years if at all. But I won’t stand here ruing the sadness of life, because life is for living and we appear some days to be doing this at full speed—sometimes ahead and sometimes in reverse.

Arriving home in cycling skins didn’t endear me to Danielle who felt she should have come with me. I suppose she could have done, but it might have slowed me down a little and sometimes being alone gives a chance to mull things over.

The holiday means that I can be back in time for the National Dormouse Conference being held at Reading University on the 9th and 10th of September. I asked Diane to book me in. I authorised the payment already. It’s being run by PTES, the Peoples’ Trust for Endangered Species. The first day looks like it will be only half as entertaining as the second one. The first is much involved with legal issues and very technical stuff, whereas the second day is aimed at dormouse checkers and surveyors, many of whom are volunteers. Good ol’ Pat Morris will there, he’s retired now but was the original drive behind dormouse and hedgehog studies in the UK.

One of the authors of the monograph on the Hazel Dormouse, Sven Büchner will be there too. It’s got to be the most comprehensive volume of dormouse information ever published and yet it’s not a big book—and no that doesn’t mean not much is known about them, because we’re starting to learn plenty—one of them being—you don’t shove dormice into teapots.

Thankfully, I’m not involved this time so I can relax and go as a delegate and enjoy myself, especially on day two. I wonder who else I know will be there...

Just as I was relaxing a little, world war three began with Hannah complaining Trish had hidden her new bikini. I felt like strangling both of them but instead managed to control my anger and called Trish to come to me. She was wearing her new one.

“Where is Hannah’s cozzie?”

“Dunno, do I?” she shrugged her shoulders.

“She seems to think that you do.”

“She’s wrong. I don’t know where it is.”

“Go and help her find it.”

“You took it, you pig,” declared Hannah.

“Why would I do that?”

“’Cos you don’t like me.”

“You’re my sister, course I don’t like you.”

“See, Mummy, she’s being horrible to me.”

“Trish, behave and go and find Hannah’s bikini.”

“Why me?”

“Because it’s usually you, now go and do as I tell you—or face the consequences.”

That seemed to get a response and they went off and minutes later Hannah shouted that she’d got it. The little buggers like winding each other up, I suppose without school, they don’t have as much to keep them occupied—I did think about sending them down a flint mine but there isn’t too much call for flints these days as stainless steel appears to have replaced it in arrow heads or axes.

Hannah dashed down to show off her bikini and she did look nice in it. I told her so and she hugged me and thanked me. So far none of the others have done so. I went up to check on my own list for packing and Danni came out of her room saw me and dashed back in. What was that about? I followed her in knocking as I went but not waiting for a response.

“Oh hi, Mum,” she said blushing.

“Why have you gone all red?”

“I haven’t have I?” she asked going even redder.

“You know jolly well that you have.”

“Oh,” she said and I saw her mobile phone in her hand.

“Sending a selfie to John were you?”

“No—uh, I mighta been, why?”

“Just be careful what you send as photos.”

“I am.”

“Look sweetheart, lots of young people in the throes of passion send pictures which are then used to embarrass them by estranged boy or girl friends, it’s becoming a real problem. So promise me no matter who asks you, you won’t send them any sexy photos of yourself.”

“Um...”

“You haven’t done it already, have you?” What have these girls got for brains?

“Only one of me in my new bikini.”

“Well no more, unless you’re at the beach or pool.”

“But we always look messy at the beach or the pool, my hair always looks a mess when I go swimming.”

“Well take it before you go in the water.”

“Oh yeah, I could do that couldn’t I?”

I was speechless. I’m paying a couple of thousand a term to educate each of these little darlings and none seem to have the brains they were born with.

“Get Livvie to take it for you, she’s the best photographer.”

“Thassan idea, thanks, Mum.”

I left before I said something unfortunate. I felt stressed enough as it was.

“Mummy, where’s my new jeans?” called Livvie.

“How would I know?”

“You’re our mother, you know these things—or supposed to.”

“Hey, that’s enough lip from you, madam. Where did you last have them?”

“In my drawer—oh, there they are. Can I pack ’em now?”

“What are you going to wear to fly out? Remember it will be quite cool first thing in the morning.”

“Oh yeah, I could wear these then, couldn’t I?”

“Might be a good idea, which shoes?”

“My trainers?”

“Sounds good, don’t forget to pack your sandals.”

“Good thinking, dor—uh Mummy.”

I left her to it shaking my head as I went towards my own room.

“What were you gonna call her?” sounded like Trish.

“Oh yeah, dormouse woman, you know like Superman...” As I closed my bedroom door I heard giggles. They’re all getting very excited and are like bottles of pop. We have yet to receive Hannah’s passport, without which, we won’t be going very far at all, let alone the Balearics.

Instead of looking at my list of clothing to sort, I sat on the bed and before I knew it, was lying on the bed musing about something and drifted off to sleep. I woke up to the sound of laughter.

“Wossgoin’ on?” I asked to see three of them looking at Danni’s phone.

“We got a clip of you snorin’,” chuckled Danni and the other two roared.

“I don’t snore,” I said with all the indignation I could muster with a mouth that felt like it had been carpeted.

“Wanna bet?” she held the phone up and sure enough I was lying on my back with mouth wide open and a noise emitting from it.

“You can delete that right now.”

“Yeah maybe, what’s it worth?”

“How dare you?” I blushed.

“I reckon Dad will pay better for it don’t you?” she asked the others and then they fled before I could give chase. I’ll murder the three of them.