The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2779 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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Danielle deigned to attend our sewing bee and quite enjoyed herself helping Trish sort out a seam that wasn’t doing what it should have done. I could see immediately that she hadn’t got the dart quite right and it was puckering. It took Danni ten minutes to find it but in doing so, she increased her confidence no end. Remember, most fourteen year olds have been sewing since they were in primary school if not before. She started it, apart from a lip service amount for a term, six months or a year ago and is actually quite good.

Trish and Livvie quite enjoy it but Trish would rather be hacking into the Pentagon while Livvie is better at it than her sister, sewing, that is. Meems is quite good and wants to make things for her dollies but doesn’t quite have the dexterity to manage it. Sewing in miniature is not easy but it’s what she insists on doing and then gets frustrated and flings it across the room sometimes storming off accompanied with mutterings of, “Siwwy needoos, bwoody sewin’,” and I hope the others don’t laugh too loudly until she’s out of earshot.

Hannah has good basic skills but she doesn’t especially like it, she’d rather cook than sew and so helping David make cakes is a treat for her. Of the older girls, Julie enjoys it the most and is quite good when she can be bothered. Phoebe is hopeless and doesn’t give a monkey’s. Jacquie is reasonably useful with a needle and thread but usually prefers to do other things with her time.

Stella can do it well enough but having been made to do it in school, she refuses to touch it unless she has to preferring to pass it on to me. As for me, I enjoy it when I have time but I’m not that good. I can make a simple dress or skirt, do minor alterations or repair things and embroider a bit which is at least as good if not better than most of them. I can also knit and crochet a bit but haven’t done any for ages.

The evening went on and Hannah ended up helping Meems just before the latter erupted. Between them they managed to sort the problem and I was delighted to see Hannah doing her big sister act. At half past eight I gave them some milk and a biscuit and let them read or play on their computers and at nine they were in bed where Tom read them a story.

I then took over from Jacquie with the little ones and she went off to read or watch telly. She’s doing this degree with distance learning and I suspect she doesn’t really have as much time as she’d like. I got Lizzie to bed, Cate having gone earlier and then settled down to read my book, ’Secret Chambers’ by Martin Brasier, who’s a professor of paleobiology at Oxford, so hopefully knows what he’s on about even if he can’t spell minuscule. His book is about how one or two billion years ago life went from being simple celled bacteria to forming complex cells which ultimately became every other living thing, from trees to humans. The strange thing is it’s only happened once. So I’m enjoying his ideas on that.

At the moment in his book he’s working as a scientist on a Royal Navy survey vessel—ring any bells? Yes, Darwin did the same thing a hundred and fifty years before. So far the only secret chambers have appeared in some of the larger foraminifera or forams, as he calls them.

“What on earth is that?” asked Simon poking at the cover of my book.

“A foraminiferan called Discospirina.”

“Likes loud music does it?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said knowing perfectly well what he was on about but seeing as he’d been sat reading for the past couple of hours while I amused the kids, I resented his intrusion into my short free time.

“You know, disco whatever you said it was...”

“Spirina, discospirina.”

“Absolutely, so does it like music.”

“I don’t know and care even less. Look I’m trying to read...”

“So will I take my schoolboy humour somewhere else?”

I didn’t answer.

“Look, I know you’ve spent time with the girls but what happened to those two women we employed to help you? They always seem noticeable by their absence.”

“Helen resigned a month or six weeks ago and Lorraine comes in after breakfast until three o’clock.”

“Some help that is.”

“It’s better than nothing, Lorraine is a good worker.”

“Can’t you find a replacement?”

“The only ones who seem interested are Eastern Europeans and Stella freaks out with them in case they’re really Russians.”

“Can’t you hire one, they’re dirt cheap and work like ni—Trojans.”

I was surprised at his near use of a non PC word. “You can’t pay rubbish wages, there’s a minimum wage plus you have to do a criminal records check and make sure they’re not illegals—it isn’t worth it.”

“Well get a Syrian or...”

“I don’t want someone who might have greater needs than we do. It was bad enough helping Jacquie with her PTSD and she wasn’t in a war zone.”

“Okay—well get an agency girl, then.”

“We’re just about coping as we are.”

“As long as Lorraine doesn’t put the quiche on it.” He snorted at his own joke. I plonked my book down loudly and went out to the kitchen and switched on the kettle.

He followed me out, “Sorry, I disturbed you.”

“Si, what is it that you want?”

“Just to spend some time with my wife.”

“Okay, but please act like my husband not some irritating schoolboy who puns everything.”

“That’s how you feel is it? I’m just some overgrown schoolboy—is that how you see me?”

“Tea or coffee?” I said after sighing.

“Neither thank you, naughty schoolboys don’t drink either, they prefer to pinch wine or beer from Daddy’s drinks cupboard.” He went to walk away.

“Sit down, Simon.” He continued to walk and said very loudly, “SIT DOWN, SIMON.” He turned round and sat at the table. I made us each a cup of tea and sat opposite him.

He sat looking very uncomfortable but sipped his tea.

“Some girl told Hannah her mother was a prostitute.”

“Where was this?”

“In school, her father’s a copper apparently.”

“That’s not on is it?”

“Most definitely no.”

“Want me to go and see the Chief Constable?”

“Thanks for offering but I’ll speak with the headmistress first in case there’s more than one offence at the school.”

“What’s she going to do?”

“I hope speak to the parents and stop her stupid father discussing work in front of her.”

“Okay, if you want me to talk to the CC or Crime Commissioner, let me know.”

“I will, thank you, darling.”

“I still have some uses then?”

“Of course you do and as soon as I’ve finished my tea I’m going up to bed and you can demonstrate another for me,” he looked forlorn until I added, “big boy,” and his face lit up like a little boy who’s been given some sweets. In actual fact I wasn’t in the mood but he needs his time with me as well and hopefully afterwards he’ll fall asleep and I can read my book for a bit.