The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1562 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I spent much of the day in a dreamlike state, I was tired and emotionally completely empty, and I was supposed to be organising Christmas. Danny, Caroline and I managed to get the Christmas tree inside. Of course it was bigger than last year, but we dug it out and replanted it in a huge pot, which took the three of us to lift. At one point while we struggled, I know Caroline was going to say, “We could do with a man,” thankfully she didn’t, so I didn’t have to bury her in the hole we left.

Once we got the tree manoeuvred onto a large saucer atop a plastic sheet, I could task Danny with doing the decorating–he practically licked his lips at the prospect. I sent him up into the attic to find the decorations and some twenty minutes later and several trips up and down stairs, he began,

We had a growing pile of Christmas cards to put up, but the girls could do that when they got home. I went to collect them at three o’clock and when they arrived Meems was in tears.

Apparently, she was carrying her trifle across the classroom to the table where the food was kept and some girl walked backwards into her and knocked it out of her hands, breaking the dish as well.

“I’m sure it was an accident, Mima,” I said giving her a hug.

“I don’t wike her no more.”

“Oh dear, I’m sure she didn’t mean to do it.”

“Yes, she did, she had a twifwe too.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t as nice as your one would have been.” I really didn’t need this, I just wanted to get them home and changed and putting up the cards.

“I hate her, she’s howwibwe.”

“C’mon, let’s go home and then you won’t have to see her for a couple of weeks will you?”

They all got into the car and I finally got them home. When they saw Danny decorating the tree the three of them went ballistic, they wanted to do it as well. I felt like strangling the four of them and getting a kitten instead. Then I looked at the heavy brocade curtains and thought I’d keep them, the children, that is.

Caroline offered to light a fire in the lounge, so I took away the screen. I asked Danny to let the girls help him and he reluctantly agreed, so I sent them up to change.

“Where’s Dad, he usually helps me bring it in?”

“He’s away at the moment.”

“Yeah, at the hotel–why’s he staying there?”

“How d’you know where he is?”

“I saw the letter.”

“You shouldn’t read other people’s letters.”

“I wouldn’t if it hadn’t been on top of your desk, I went to borrow your little screwdriver set, the ones you keep in your desk drawer, and it was there. I couldn’t help it.”

“Okay, but please don’t do it again. We had a row over something dumb that he said and he left.”

“He is coming back though, right?”

“I can’t say for sure, but I expect so.”

“He’s gotta be here for Christmas, it wouldn’t be the same without Dad.”

“No it wouldn’t.”

“Tell him to come home, tell him it’s okay.”

“I wish it were that simple, Danny.”

“Course it is, just tell him–I’ll call him if you like.”

“I’m not sure I want him back just yet.” I could feel myself choking up and my eyes felt decidedly moist.

“Yeah, but we do–he’s our dad–like you’re our mum. I lost one lot of parents, I don’t wanna lose another.”

“You won’t son, I promise you that.”

“That’s what the others said, fucking liars.”

I was shocked by his language and by his argument. He was right, Simon should be here. If only he knew why we’d fought he might think differently. They must never know.

The girls appeared and Danny let them help, but on his terms. Caroline lit the fire and I crawled off to my study and locked the door, then I burst into tears. I did manage to control them and stopped after half a box of tissues.

I picked up my mobile and sent the following text.

‘The kids R asking 4 U. Ud betta come home. C.’

Five or six minutes later I got a response. ‘Wot do U want? S.’

‘2 go back 2 5mins b4 U sed wot U did.'

My mobile rang and I nearly dropped it as it rang and vibrated in my hand. It was Simon.

“Hi, Babes, look, what d’you want?”

“I told you.”

“Time travel isn’t possible yet, so what’s number two on the list?”

“You’d better come home, it might just stop me hanging all four of them from the Christmas tree.”

“Sounds like you need some help–I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Yeah.” I didn’t know what I felt apart from exhausted. I knew we needed to set some ground rules so it didn’t happen again, but just what and how I was too tired to think. I actually dozed in the chair because there was a knocking on the door and Trish’s voice was shouting, ‘Mummy, come quick.’

I jumped up and nearly fell over a pile of books by the desk. Stumbling, I tried to open the door forgetting I’d locked it. I finally managed to accrue the coordination required to unlock and open the door and I staggered up the corridor to the lounge where Trish’s voice was calling, ‘in here.’

I stepped into the room to be met with a picture of horror and absurdity at the same time. While Caroline had been setting the fire, some newspaper she was using had been sucked up the chimney. Fearing it could cause a chimney fire she reached up to grab it and was hit by an avalanche of soot. When I got there she was covered in it and looked like something from a poor slapstick comedy.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and by the look of things, neither did she. I sent Danny to get the vacuum cleaner and told Caroline to stay still. I was still vacuuming her when Simon arrived and he just burst out laughing until I gave him a Paddington hard stare and he quit the room. He was still guffawing outside but at least she couldn’t hear him.

It took a couple of hours to clean up the mess and poor Caroline spent ages and half a bottle of shampoo in the shower and she still smelt like the remains of a bonfire. Because she had stood still, Tom’s antique, or should that be, ancient, carpet suffered minimal damage and Mr Dyson sorted that, though I had to empty it twice.

“I thought you had the chimney swept?” Simon said when we were having a cuppa a bit later.

“I did, obviously they only did half a job, what with the rain and stuff it must have slid down the chimney and she dislodged it.”

“Better that than a chimney fire.”

“I’m not sure Caroline would agree.”

“Damn good vacuum cleaner that,” he indicated with his thumb behind him.

“Yes, but now it will need cleaning, new filters and things to get rid of the smell of soot.”

“Just as well you’re good with mechanical things then.”

“Oh no, that’s a job for the man of the house,” I said, and smiled.

“Tom?” he smirked back at me.

“Only if a younger one isn’t available by prolonged absence,” I countered firmly.

“What’s for dinner?”

“I have no idea, not had time to think.”

“Take away or d’you want to eat out somewhere.”

“Send for a Chinese.”

“What d’you want, dog in black bean sauce or kitten with mushrooms.”

“Don’t be disgusting–some stupid cow got sent to prison for six months for killing a kitten in a microwave, down in Devon, somewhere.”

“Ugh, what did she do that for?”

“To hurt the owner of the cat.”

“Pretty sick. I’ll order a complete meal for six, should be enough for about ten of us.”

“Okay, no more kitten jokes, I’m thinking I might get one for the girls, if Tom’s agreeable.”

“If he’s agreeable? He does what you tell him, same as the rest of us.”

“No he doesn’t.”

“You ask him.” He left to call the Chinese takeaway. I was left to my thoughts, am I that much of a tyrant? Maybe I am, but with a houseful of children and dysfunctional adults, someone has to take charge–don’t they?