The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2246 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Simon called just after my little táªte-á -táªte with Sammi. The kids were having a meal there which he hoped would save me some work at home. It would and I thanked him for his consideration. I asked how Danielle was, and he said she was having fun helping in reception.

I wasn’t sure what that meant but decided it was perhaps better not to know all that went on in my children’s lives. After returning the phone to its place I asked the remaining members of the family what they’d like for their dinner, bearing in mind I’d just boiled some ham. They agreed ham with parsley sauce would be fine, so that’s what they got and it was pretty good too, if I say so myself.

Ingrid had returned for dinner and went from it to see David. I decided that I could best help them by babysitting Hannah thus letting her mum go to see David with no pressure to return to see to her. Ingrid wasn’t so pleased that Hannah had stayed at the hotel for dinner.

“Don’t worry about it, she’s having a whale of a time.”

“With all due respect, Cathy, she isn’t your daughter.”

“I’m well aware of that, Ingrid, but she’s with my daughters and Simon and Stella are both there to supervise the fun, so she’s perfectly safe.”

“I wish you’d asked me first.”

“You were busy, if you remember.”

She went off far from convinced that her only flesh and blood was safe and sound. I didn’t like to tell her that the chances of anything happening to her precious daughter were far higher if I was there, statistically, at any rate. So hopefully, everyone would be safe and sound.

After dinner, Daddy went off to his study to have his wee dram and a snooze. Mima and Jacquie were dealing with the two little ones and Sammi and I tried watching telly but there was really nothing either of us wanted to see.

“Did I tell you, you’re a brilliant mother, Mummy?”

“If you did, I must have missed it.” I wondered what brought this on.

“Well you are, and I apologise if I ever thought otherwise.”

“Compliments are always welcome though I’m not sure why I suddenly deserve that one.”

“You know,” she said enigmatically, which usually means I don’t.

“You mean our little chat after lunch?”

“That and many other things. I don’t think I ever appreciated how much you do for us until I thought about getting my own place. It was gonna be good looking after my own man, like you do, until I thought about all the things you do for us, which I doubt I could do myself.”

“Why not?”

“No one ever showed me how.”

“Showed you how to what?”

“To cook an’ things, to do the cleaning and even repair my clothes.”

“I suspect we can remedy much of that over a period, but it will take a while for you to feel proficient.”

“Yeah, I know you tried before and I wasn’t interested. I couldn’t see the wood for the trees.” This was quite an admission coming from her. I was tempted to push for more compliments but then thought better of it. I know I’m supposed to be an adult, but...

“So what would you like to start to learn first?”

“Um,” she blushed.

“Well?”

“How to make love to a man,” she blushed but then so did I and more than she did.

Talk about winging it, I flew by the seat of my panties but she seemed happy with all I said, which wasn’t very much.

“So I listen to my body, watch what happens to his and use my imagination. Is that right?”

“Pretty well, kiddo.”

“It seems too easy.”

“If it wasn’t we’d have become extinct as a species millions of years ago. Remember this is what everyone does to reproduce...”

“Except you and me, Mummy.”She bore a pained expression.

“The fact that we can’t doesn’t mean the method is wrong, just the equipment.”

“Yeah I know, but when I lie there shoving that bloody plastic thing in and out, I wish it was Brad Pitt or some other Adonis and we were trying to make real babies.”

“You think I don’t? Well not the Brad Pitt bit, maybe David Tennant or Colin Farrell.”

“Does Daddy know you have these fantasies?”

“Of course, I’m a normal woman with normal needs.” I was still blushing like a stop light.

“Hmm,” she teased me. “I thought transsexuals were under sexed.”

“They might be,” I snapped back, “but I’m a woman.”

She suddenly launched herself at me and gave me a huge hug. “I’m so glad to hear you say that, Mummy. I know how you’ve struggled with all this stuff.”

“How d’you know?”

She blushed, “Um–Daddy mentioned it.”

“Oh did he now?”

“It wasn’t like that, Mummy, he sort of mentioned it in passing.”

“Go on...”

“Um–he’d say things like, he couldn’t understand how you were the loveliest woman he knew and yet you had no confidence in yourself as a woman.”

“I told him you were the most natural woman I knew which was why I found it so easy to see you as my adopted mum. I knew your history, it was all over the media a few years ago–little did I think I’d ever meet you let alone know you and share your home. You were my idol, when I saw you on the telly talking about saving a little girl’s life and being with Daddy, who said you were a woman as far as he was concerned, and his family.

“I’d only ever seen one or two who really looked female, Paris Lees was one but she’s an activist, I wanted someone who just got on with life rather than rubbed everyone’s nose in it.”

“She’s a very lovely young woman, but then so are you.” I’d seen Paris Lees on some TV programme and decided she was a very lovely young woman, who looked and sounded like a lovely young woman. So many of the ones you see on telly or the internet are gruff voiced, especially some of the American ones.

“Thank you, Mummy, but you’re my role model and always have been.”

I hope she left out the petulance and tantrums from her version of role models. I suppose every mother is a role model for her daughters, and I suppose I’d thought of it for Trish and Danni and perhaps to some extent, for Livvie and Mima as well. Though part of me feels that’s a bit of arrogance as they’re natural females and I’m–sod it, I’m female as well.

“In which case, get your sewing stuff, let’s do some needlework.” The look she gave me was priceless but at my repeated urging she went up to her room and came back with a small cardboard box with a few needles, a few reels of cotton and a pair of scissors. “Is that it?”

She nodded. “I never had anyone to show me.”

“Let’s put that right immediately,” and an hour later she was hemming her first pair of trousers.