Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 225

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Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part 225.

I sat in a chair in the lounge, the tea beside me was cold when I woke up. It was also dark and dreary, a drizzly rain was falling made thoroughly unpleasant by a strengthening breeze. I glanced at my watch it was nearly eight o clock, I must have zonked for nearly two hours.

I stretched and rubbed my stiff neck. I had a foul taste in my mouth and my head felt quite fuzzy. After staggering to the kitchen and wetting my whistle, I found a note on the fridge.

'Cathy,
Tom & I have gone to see Stella. Seemed a shame to wake you. C U later.
luv
Simon
xxxxx

ps get the dinner on.'

I shook my head and huffed, the cheek of it! One of these days Simon, one of these days!

I busied myself with doing some veg and fumed silently. There was cold chicken in the fridge, so I'd do a cold meat dinner. Not very enterprising but adequate.

To be honest I felt shattered. The funeral had taken more out of me than I cared to admit, it also brought back memories of the two funerals I'd attended recently, that of Mary Miller and of course my mother's. I did miss her.

I laid the table and waited for the two boys to come back before putting the greens on, it was broccoli and I hated that when it was over cooked, like green slime. If I wanted to eat algae I'd have been a fish.

My mind went off thinking about our rescheduled Christmas, it would be something to look forward to, but I hope they weren't expecting me to cook when I came home from hospital, surely not? Well Tom I'm sure wouldn't, but Simon can be a true aristocrat at times and seem unable to work out which foot goes into which shoe. Stella of course would be home but hardly likely to be well enough to run a kitchen, not that she seemed to do much before she was sick. I definitely seemed to be the domesticated one, although Tom was self sufficient, which is fine if they are as fond of curry as he is.

The door slammed and in walked the two hospital visitors, "Brr," said Tom, "cold as a stepmother's breath!"

"I'll have you know my stepmother is quite a warm individual!" said Simon dead pan.

"A little too warm for my taste," I offered returning to my kitchen and turning up the gas under the greens.

I'd already carved the meat and plated it up, so I shut the kitchen door to stop them picking. Maybe I'm getting to know them too well!

Tom went to find some wine and Simon went to wash his hands. By the time they were ready so was dinner. I plated everything up and took it through. They seemed to enjoy it well enough, helped down by Tom's very palatable Chablis. Even I had a glass or so. Then after clearing up I wished them both a good night and went to bed. It was ten o' clock and I was knackered, the tiredness probably helped by the wine.

I don't recall Simon coming to bed nor did I wake during the night. I did finally open my eyes about seven, it was of course still dark but the alarm clock was clearly visible on the clock radio. I felt the need for a cuppa and slipped out of bed without waking the snoring Simon.

Down in the kitchen I boiled the kettle and made my tea then some coffee for Simon, I also made Tom a mug of the strong smelling brew. I like coffee and normally the smell of it, but for some reason that morning it made me feel queasy.

I carried the drink up stairs on a tray, never having mastered the art of carrying two mugs in one hand, I always burned my hand. Tom was surprised I was up, apparently Simon and he talked for several hours after I left them.

"What about?"

"All sorts of things, from holidays to hurricanes."

"The aeroplane or the storm?"

"Oh the storm, he was talking about taking you to the Caribbean after you recover."

"Might be nice if he asked me if I'd like to go."

"I think he was sounding me out if I thought you'd like to go."

"I believe they have a place on Minorca."

"Do they?"

"I quite fancy that."

"Yes it is nice, quieter than the other Balearics."

"They have dormice."

"You and your dormice."

I smiled, "I'm consistent."

"Aye true lassie, you are that."

"What's with all the Scottish dialect?"

"My accent has faded in recent years and some even have difficulty believing I am Scots."

"I did at first."

"But then you're half guid yersel'."

"Aye," I replied in my best Bristolian haggis accent. The thought that Dave Millar was Scots came back to me. I'd heard him interviewed on telly and didn't especially notice an accent. Maybe I was going deaf!

I escaped suggesting Simon's coffee was going to be cold. I woke my lover with a kiss, chickening out from various less pleasant ways I could have improvised upon with a cold wet flannel.

He sat up and after wishing me a good morning, drank his coffee.

"What's this about asking Tom if I'd like the Caribbean?"

"Very Miss Marple," he said and snorted.

"Ha ha, if you want to know anything about me, try asking me." I felt nearly cross with him.

"It was just a thought, but as you mention it, would you like to go there?"

"Maybe, I suspect I'd prefer Minorca."

"Menorca! Are you mad, we can go there any time, we have a villa there."

"That's where I'd like to go."

"Why? I mean it's nice enough but hardly compares with St Lucia."

"I'd rather watch dormice than cricket."

"Dormice? I didn't know they had them on Menorca."

"Well they do and the only ones I've seen are in books. I'd like to compare them to ours."

"Fine, I'll take you to Menorca if that's where you'd like to go."

"It is."

"Okay, let me know when you fancy going and I'll check if the villa is free. Dad likes it quite a lot, and it is sort of his."

"April some time, then we can see all the spring flowers."

"Probably, I'll ask him the next time we chat."

"Thank you, I'd really like that."

"You wish is my command dear lady."

"I know brave knight, so maybe I'd like to see what happens if I commanded you to kiss me."

"I think Madam would enjoy it," he moved across to me and kissed me on the lips, then on the neck, then on the... nah you wouldn't be interested in that.

After breakfast I stripped the chicken carcass and boiled it for a soup stock. Tom made a curry for himself and Simon, whilst I had a chicken sandwich with the fresh bread I'd made. For supper we had chicken soup and bread. It was pretty good if I say so myself.

Tom went to see Stella in the afternoon while Simon and I did the sales. I bought a new laptop through his bank which saved me quite a bit on the VAT. I wasn't sure it was either legal or morally correct but he insisted it was both. Next time I'd be able to claim it against my own tax bill, as my being advisor to the bank was considered self employed. This was all new to me.

We saw Stella on the evening visit and she told us she was allowed to come home tomorrow if the consultant agreed. That was great news, we could finally have our Christmas.

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Comments

Things remain...

... how they remain. Sounds like one exhausted girl there... Glad she's staying "healthy". Don't you DARE make her too sick to go through with things!!! You hear me? Of course you can't hear me. I'm typing... ARGH. Some metaphors just don't work not in person.

Thanks for more of the same fun.

You read me?

Is also a valid phrase... but it's primarily used in radio communications. Heh.

True, how true...

... but apparently I was half brain dead when I tried to think of something like that... You good authors come up with the needed phrases so easily. :-) (Only brain dead on my "you hear me" not on my appreciation of the fun story. Brain was working OK for that bit... Must have turned it off when I started commenting.)

Cathy And Her Dormice

I can just see her and Spike tooling around with Simon getting to know the locals and THIS time, Simon does something that makes Cathy laugh instead of cry like last time. Who knows, they just might come across some weird cult that will worship Spike.
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Comments, as Requested

I'm loving he story as usual but, by the time I get to read it, it's usually just about bedtime which means I'm too pooped to be able to think of anything clever or even intelligent to say (and I'm not even blonde! Unless you count Platinum Blonde aka grey?).

Still, a promise is a promise, so I've posted a comment.

Thanks again for putting up with stupid comments and still obliging us by keeping us entertained!

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

x

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

What day is it?

I've lost track. What date are we up to? It's like three days after Christmas, so four days before Cathy goes under the knife?

Does it matter?

The fact is that Ang like so many authors on this site, can keep one day going for several chapters, so there may well only be four days until her op, but that could be dozens of chapters.

You wait until Ang does a step-by-step of the surgery. That's got to be worth a half dozen chapters on its own.

Christmas for them may well be hitting us at about the same time as ours.

Confusing ain't it?

NB

VAT

Here it is called sales tax. It is usually around 8.25%, and is sliced up between cities and state. It usually also includes the local public transportation service.

Re: VAT

Wendy Jean,

You are correct that most states in the US do have state sales taxes. However, accoring to aboutmoney.com, those range from a high in California of 8.25% to a low in Hawaii of just 4%. Additionally, 5 states have no sales taxes at all: Alaska, Delaware, Montana, New Hampshire and my home state of Oregon (Alaska does allow localities to impose sales taxes ranging from 1% to 7%). Also, while Delaware does not have a sales tax, it does have a gross receipts tax on businesses which can be as high as 2.07%; this is generally not passed on to the consumer.

Here in Oregon, the money many states receive from sales tax are generated either through property taxes or the state income tax.

Jenny

dormeese

Are these what we ungrateful wards of George III call Hedge hogs ? A friend of mine has 2 for pets.
Interesting chapter, is Simon getting bossy ?

Cefin