Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 665 by Angharad

The next morning after breakfast and a quick check of the weather forecast, I asked the girls if they’d like to go to the beach. The weather was a bit iffy, but the sun was shining at the moment.

“I haven’t brought my swimming cozzie,” Livvie complained.

“I don’t think it’s warm enough to swim, so just wear shorts and if it feels okay, you can have a paddle.” That seemed to satisfy our visitor and, she ran upstairs to change; Trish and Mima were already wearing shorts.

Simon decided he had things to do so he wasn’t coming with us, Tom however, agreed he would once he’d walked Kiki. By the time I’d packed the sandwiches I was making, and organised drinks and so forth, Tom was back.

“I hate to say this, but it’s looking a wee bitty dark towards Soothsea.”

“I’ll make them take a book each, or we could take my lappie and run it off the power inverter and they could watch some more of that Disney rubbish.”

“Wi’oot ye goin’ doo-lally?”

“I’ll take my MP3 and sit in the front, with my book.”

“Whit book, would that be?”

“The Mammal Society’s journal.”

“Och, jest somethin’ light then?”

“Did you want mustard on your ham?”

“Aye, of course I do.”

“Tough,” I said and poked my tongue at him.

It took another twenty minutes to get the car and the kids packed. It would have been easier if we’d put the kids in the boot and the picnic inside the car. Still, eventually, I managed to lock up the house and off we went.

As we went towards Southsea, the heavens opened. I hoped whatever rain we had, it would ease up as we drove on. It didn’t. So we ended up parked at Southsea watching the rain bouncing off the bonnet and the ground.

The kids read their books for a while before Tom pulled out his battered copy of Kipling’s Just So Stories, and read to the girls, who fidgeted a bit but on the whole remained fairly calm.

The rain stopped for a few minutes, just enough for me to rush to the loos with the kids. I took them in one at a time, which meant that the elder child who wasn’t in the cubicle with me, had to watch Meems. Trish, was grateful for my method to protect her modesty. She gave me a hug before she left the cubicle.

Back to the car, and it started to rain again as I was bringing the picnic from the boot: I got quite wet despite it only taking me a few minutes. However, once back inside, we had a reasonable meal, Tom’s face smiling when he discovered I’d put mustard on his meat sandwich. He took a bite, his face lit up and he said quietly, “Ye scunner,” but the smile meant he didn’t mean it.

The car was steaming up beautifully, and I felt like I was in a Turkish bath, not that I’ve ever been in one. I opened my window to let some fresh air in and rain drove through the gap causing squeals from behind me, so I closed it again.

After we’d finished eating and drinking, I packed up the picnic stuff and got my laptop from the boot, with the power inverter. “Oh no, Mummy’s going to do some work, we’ll have to be quiet now,” wailed Trish almost sarcastically and the other two laughed–actually they giggled, and before long the car was moving as the three of them bounced on the back seat in fits of giggles. Tom and I looked at each other and shrugged.

When the giggle-fit was over, I switched on the computer and Trish sighed, until she saw the film coming up on the screen and then squealed, “Mummy’s brought Bambi, yay!” The other two then squealed with pleasure.

“Right, you three, you sit quietly and watch it, or I turn it off. If it goes off, I won’t turn it back on. Understood?”

Three yeses came from behind me. I positioned the computer so they could all see it and sit reasonably comfortably. Then, after fitting my earphones to my MP3 I leant against the door of the car and nodded off listening to the haunting music from the The Mission, one of Morricone’s masterpieces.

Life seemed to reach an element of balance and I woke some ten minutes later with the sun blinding me as it shone through the window. The clouds had parted and suddenly, summer seemed to be on its way back.

I asked the children if they’d like to go for a walk, but they preferred to continue rotting their brains with Disney and my computer. I grabbed my jacket and wandered about a hundred yards from the car enjoying the peacefulness of the fresh breeze and sunshine.

Alas, it didn’t last long; suddenly a large black cloud came over and the deluge began again. I ran back to the car and hopped in quickly to squeals from the girls as some rain followed me through the open door.

Once the film was over, I packed up the computer and we went home via an ice cream shop, where Tom treated us all to knickerbocker glories. I hadn’t had one since Simon bought me one when we were first dating–so, despite the coldness of the ice cream I had a warm feeling in my tummy.

On the drive home, I led the choral singing of, One Man and His Dog, and Ten green bottles, by which time we were home and it looked as if it hadn’t rained much there at all.

Simon was busy mowing the lawns for Tom, and when asked about rain, reported there’d only been a short shower just after we left, but that was all. The girls decided they’d play on Trish’s bike. I stood by the car and paused in my unloading of it. Trish got the key from the house and unlocked the garage and opened the door.

There was a pause as she walked in then a squeal of surprise–a bit like a rabbit being caught by a weasel–then she came running out. “Daddy’s bought another bike,” she said dancing around and clapping, “look, Livvie, my daddy’s bought another bike.”

Tom paused in helping me with the picnic, “Her daddy or her mummy?”

“You know, Daddy, prophets in their own land.” I shrugged and continued unloading the car.

I watched them from the kitchen window as they rode up and down the drive on the two bicycles. Meems, had come in with me and had decided on a nap on the sofa in the lounge, I closed the door and washed up the picnic stuff.

Stella came and sat with me and we made a cup of tea. Simon came in and had one and while we were sat enjoying it, the two older girls came in for a drink.

“Thank you so much for the new bike, Daddy,” said Trish.

“New bike? What new bike?” he looked completely bemused.

“The girl’s bike that was in the garage, Daddy, the one you put there.”

“I didn’t put anything in the garage except the lawn mower.”

“Yes you did, Daddy, you’re fooling with us, aren’t you?”

“No I’m not, Trish, I haven’t bought a bike since Christmas.”

“Well, who did then?” She looked quite chastened by her mistake. “Was it you, Gramps?”

Tom had just appeared from his study, “Wis whit me?”

“Did you buy us a new bike, Gramps?”

“No, it wisnae me, Trish.”

“Auntie Stella, was it you?”

“No, it wasn’t, Trish.” Trish looked really puzzled. “Now think, young lady, who is the real bike fan in this house?”

“Daddy?” she said and I nearly choked on my tea.

“Mummy?” the way she said it, it was half in astonishment. “What? Mummy bought the bike?”

“Yes, I did, why the surprise?”

“Of course, you like to ride sometimes don’t you?”

“I do, when I have time.” I thought back to the days when I could ride almost anytime, they seemed a long time ago.

“I think a thank you might be in order, young lady,” said Simon.

“Oh yes, thank you, Daddy.”

“Not me, you nit, your mother.”

“Oops!” Trish put both her hands over her mouth and blushed, “Soz, Mummy, thank you for the bike.” She reached up and gave me a kiss and a hug, then Livvie did the same. A thunder of tiny hooves and they were off out again.