The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3029 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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“Mummy have you been crying?” I was asked about half a dozen times and each one of them Danielle intervened.

“She saw Billie, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” was the usual answer except from Hannah who never knew Billie. “Is that the girl I think I see about the place, but when I look again she’s not there?”

“That’s her,” said Danielle, “she died a few years back had a brain haemorrhage while out cycling with Mum.”

“How horrible,” gasped Hannah.

“Yeah we don’t talk about it, it upsets Mum,” pronounced my self-appointed protector.

“It’s okay, Danni, Hannah didn’t know her and she’s curious.”

Danielle shrugged her shoulders and went outside, the sun was shining and she was possibly thinking of swimming. As she’d just eaten I called after her and told her to wait an hour.

“It’s not warm enough yet,” was her response.

“So if she’s dead, is she like a ghost?” Hannah looked a little concerned.

“A spirit person, if there is such a thing. Don’t look so alarmed, she’ll never do anything to hurt you and would probably like to be introduced, ask Trish, she sees her the most.”

“She like visits, often?” she said swallowing.

“I don’t see her very often but the others do. I suspect they treat her much the way they did when she was living with us.”

“Yeah, right.” Her expression said more about her feelings than the words, she looked as if she’d just realised we were the equivalent of the Addams Family.

“If it worries you ask Trish to ask her to avoid you.”

“No, no problem, just trying to understand.”

“I know we’re a bit strange...”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” said Stephanie coming into the kitchen holding Emily’s hand.

“Auntie Stephanie, if you worked in a chip shop would the food be shrink wrapped?” asked Trish arriving for breakfast.

“Look here, smart arse, just because you’ve got a big brain doesn’t mean I won’t strangle you.” All the fake threat did was make Trish giggle. In all probability, there is probably more chance of Trish laughing herself to death than Stephanie doing something violent—she usually has the patience of a saint, unlike moi, who is known to occasionally get a bit warm under the collar.

“So does everybody but you see her?” asked Hannah harping back to the previous topic.

“See who?”

“Billie,” said Trish munching on some toast.

“Isn’t that the little girl who died?”

“Yep, she comes around now and again, check we’re all alright.”

“Right,” said Stephanie rolling her eyes. “I see dead people,” she said quoting the line from the Sixth Sense. “Right Steph, remember it’s they who are mad not you,” she said to herself. “Okay, Morticia, what are we doing today?”

“Mummy’s name is Catherine, not Morticia,” scolded Hannah.

“Yes I know, I was making a joke.”

“Huh, well I don’t find it funny,” she turned on her heel and walked away.

“Pardon me for breathing,” said Stephanie.

“She’s trying to understand what she thinks she might have seen.”

“Your ghostly child?”

“Billie, yes.”

“Nice kid.”

“She was a delightful child and I still feel sad for her that she didn’t get to fulfil her potential.”

“It happens I’m afraid, even in very supportive and loving families.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“So she haunts the place—I thought she died in England?”

“She did.”

“So why is she here?”

“She follows us around, keeps in touch with the others, especially Trish, doesn’t she, sweetheart.”

“Uh huh,” said Trish now on her second slice of toast.

“That smells good, I think I’ll have some—anyone else?” Stephanie went towards the toaster.

“Uh—I had the last slice,” confessed the big brained one.

“You what?”

Trish giggled.

“Ask Danielle to run down the shop and get some more bread.”

I gave Trish a five euro note and she went off to find Danielle.

“Need anything else,” called Danielle from the patio.

“No, just some bread for toast.”

“Make it snappy,” called Stephanie.

“Yes, doc,” came the response.

“If I was with these smart alecks all the time, I’d be serving time for mass murder,” confessed Stephanie, “Dunno how you cope day in day out.”

“They’re my children, I have to.”

“I suppose, I’m just not used to so much backchat.”

“But I thought you dealt with teenagers?”

“Yeah, some—but they’re usually too frightened to say very much.”

“So see this as a mark of affection, they feel so comfortable with you they act as if you’re part of the family.”

“Really? So how does Simon cope?”

“He ignores most of it. Occasionally he’ll take issue if he catches them cheeking me, but that isn’t very often.”

“And Tom?”

“He thrives on it, gives as good as he gets.”

“And here am I, the supposed child specialist and I have problems with it. Says a lot about my skills doesn’t it?”

“Don’t take it to heart, remember you’re on holiday, so just let it go.”

“Sometimes, Cathy, I think I’ll chuck it all in and...”

“Don’t you dare, we need you.”

“You need me—I think it’s me who needs you, not the other way round.”

“Just remember, if it wasn’t for the support of you and Sam Rose, most of these kids wouldn’t be allowed to stay with me let alone come abroad for holidays.”

“Glad to see I have some function even it’s only to write snotty letters to social services.”

“I believe you are a leading light in the genre.”

“You what?”

“Here, I got you two loaves.” Danielle dumped the bread on the table and the small change alongside it. “Are we doin’ anythin’ or can I go for a swim?”

“Yes, are we, Cathy?” asked Stephanie, who picked up the bread and went to the toaster.

“Can if you like.”

“You’re the expert?”

“What about the one with the walk up the hill to the old farm?” asked Danielle.

“You mean Castillo de Santa Agueda?”

“Do I? Yeah fine.” She shrugged as if to emphasise her diffidence, if that doesn’t sound too Irish.

“Is that some castle?”

“It was a fortress in ancient times, Roman and then Moorish.”

“This toast is a bit moreish,” she quipped. “So we going there then?”

“We’ll need to take food and drink with us, it’s a bit of a step from anywhere.”

“We have bread, let’s go for it.”

I did eventually get my toast and mashed banana plus another cuppa before we settled down and made a huge pile of cheese sandwiches, bottles of squash and some fruit before setting off for Ferreries and then up the hill to Santa Agueda. I made everyone carry a bottle of water with them as it looked like being a hot day and we had quite a walk ahead of us.

“Mummy said the last time this path was repaired the Romans done it,” said Trish deliberately trying to sound downmarket.

“I think she may well be right,” said Stephanie grabbing Emily before she pitched forward into a pothole on the path.

“She usually is,” chorused Trish, Livvie and Danielle and I went as red as a tail light.