(aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2187 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad
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I mused on Danni being at either Pia’s or Cindy’s house, then remembered she was supposed to be working with Julie. I went in search of Livvie. “I thought Danni was supposed to be going to the salon this morning?”
“So did she.”
“So why didn’t she?”
“You forgot to take her.”
“I forgot?”
“Yes, Mummy, you forgot.”
“I thought she was going with Julie.”
“Julie’s car is a two seater.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Phoebe went with her.”
“Oops–okay, my fault, but no one reminded me I had to take Danni.”
“She went up to change and you’d gone.”
This was not proving to be a particularly good day, I checked the calendar, it wasn’t the thirteenth. I decided I’d deal with lunch before things got any worse. I made soup with some cold chicken and vegetables we had in the fridge, as I left it to simmer, Stella and Siá¢n arrived with the little ones.
“Umm, that smells good,” said Siá¢n taking off her jacket.
“Mummy makes good soup,” Livvie offered a recommendation.
“It certainly smells like it,” agreed our visitor.
“Sadly it won’t be with fresh baked bread, but the stuff we’re having was made yesterday.”
“That’s not good enough, cook, I gave distinct instructions for fresh bread,” Stella pretended to do her Lady Muck routine.
“Beggin’ ya pardon, ma’am, but we ’ad to ’aul the coal to the ’ole, me an’ the children like.” I did a quick bob.
“Why was that, cook?”
“To make coal slaw, ma’am.”
At this point Siá¢n lost it and laughed until the tears ran. Livvie stood looking bemused at the three of us.
“Go and stir your cauldron,” said Stella breaking up the party.
“You lot are absolutely crazy,” was our visiting medic’s opinion.
“That’s a surprise?” asked Stella.
“Well yes, I mean I knew you were mad as a hatter, but I really expected better of Cathy–oops, I nearly said Charlie.”
“I think Charlie has long departed this place, don’t you?”
“Yes, it’s just that I knew her longer as a bo–girl called Charlie.”
“So you said.” Before Stella could add anything to whatever she was saying, I banged the gong in the hall and Trish and Meems appeared as did Jacquie who was dusting and polishing upstairs. Ingrid hadn’t been too well so Jacquie was helping out it should have been her study day–she’s doing an Open University course in gender studies or some such thing. It’s not that I’m not interested, but it isn’t a subject I’d want to pursue. Given my history that might seem unusual but I know what I am and feel quite happy to be there. However, as Jacquie has some stuff to work through and felt this would help her, I funded it for her. If she’s starts burning her bra in the sitting room, I might have to reassess things but for the moment I know where my ‘Female Eunuch’ and ‘The Third Sex’ have gone.
“This is good,” said Siá¢n in between sips of soup.
“She makes a mean soup–I taught her all she knows,” said Stella which was interrupted by me choking on a piece of bread.
“You must have learned it recently then, because I knew Ch–I mean–Cathy made some mean cakes.”
“What does that mean, Auntie Siá¢n?” asked Meems.
“Well, Jemima, I knew your mummy when we were both girls and she sometimes used to bring some cake with her when we went to school and she’d share it with me–and it was pretty good: better than I could do. But Cathy enjoyed being taught to cook by her mum, didn’t you girl?”
I nodded, my eyes were still red after choking on the bread. I can remember one of our form masters who I actually liked–well he tried to keep me from being bullied, so I had grounds for liking him. One year, in the third form I think, I baked him a cake for his birthday. What a stupid thing to do–on reflection.
The other kids had left and I was pretending to collect my stuff together but instead I pulled out the baking tin and walked up to him. “Mr Walker.”
“Yes, Watts?”
“Um–happy birthday, sir.” I blushed and handed him the cake tin, “Could I have the tin back when you’ve finished it?”
“What’s this, Watts?”
“I baked you a cake for your birthday, sir.”
“That’s very kind of you, Watts, but why?”
“It’s your birthday, sir, and everyone should have a cake on their birthday, and it’s my way of saying thank you for all the time you give us–I–um had better go.”
Blushing like a tail light, I scrambled my stuff together and dashed for the door. “Watts,” he called as I opened the door.
“Yes, sir?”
“Thank you.”
I nodded and still hot and bothered stepped out into the corridor where two of my antagonists were standing. “What’s with Charlotte?” one said loudly to the other.
“Why’s she blushing you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s just baked teacher a cake–I think she has a crush on him. That right, Charlotte?”
“Get lost,” was my riposte as I ran down the corridor to my next lesson pursued by two zombies.
The next day when Mr Walker handed me back the tin and told me he’d much enjoyed it as well as the card I’d placed inside the tin, I got lots of taunting from some of the roughnecks. “’Ere, Charlotte, it’s me burfday tomorra, ’ow about makin’ me a cake like?” I sat cringing and blushing at my desk trying to disappear while twenty eight boys shouted taunts and jeers at me.
Mr Walker took several minutes to regain control by which time I was very close to tears. “Leave Watts alone, d’you hear me?”
“But I wants a cake, sir.”
“Edmonds, shut your cakehole,” was his response, “giving you a cake would be like casting pearls before swine.” Of course they all started snorting like pigs by which time I think I had actually shed a tear or two.
To distract them from me Mr Walker put Edmonds in detention which was appropriate for his lack of respect but of course retribution was to follow, or should I say an attempt was made at it when Edmonds caught me coming down stairs. Just the two of us, I had my satchel full of books on my back and in my hand the cake tin in a carrier bag.
“Charlotte, you bitch–it’s your fault I got detention–so you’re gonna pay.”
My blood ran cold, he was half as big again as I was. “I didn’t do anything, Edmonds, you brought about your own downfall.”
He mimicked me in a squeaky voice then lunged at me, I jumped back up the stair and whacked him with the cake tin which made a loud bong noise. He staggered backwards clasping the side of his head where I’d hit him and I ran upstairs and avoided him.
I thought he’d get me later but apparently he went home with a nasty bruise on his face where he’d walked into a door post. He still teased me but never attempted to hit me again.
“A penny for them,” said Siá¢n.
“Oh nothing, just thinking about walking to school eating cake,” I lied.
Comments
Hard to say what is going on with Sian
She seems to have something deeply personal that she only trusts Cathy with. Being called Charlie will get irritating more and more.
Kim
Sian is being a little too
irritating for a Guest. I have left out of the house or office without my phone, but since I have my Laptop all the time It is not a big of a deal for one that only has a phone. Being out of contact can be very fiddly
Goddess Bless you
Love Desiree