Worrying Dormice (aka Bike) Part 653 by Angharad

Morning came early–by that I mean it came before I was ready for it. I was dog tired–how did I know, Simon reckons I was barking in my sleep–go figure. The usual invasion of the body-snatchers didn’t happen, which had my remaining brain cell whizzing around in ever decreasing circles. Then I remembered, or was it dismembered? We had a guest staying with us, another one to get washed and dressed and breakfasted.

I rolled out of bed with my eyes still shut and walked straight into my bedside cupboard. The pain in left big toe was not nice and I opened my now watering eyes. It certainly increased my alertness from walking coma to a semi-colon or something like that.

The girls were not in their room, they were in talking with Peaches, having their own pyjama party while I slept on. Limping in I asked Peaches if she wanted a shower or just to wash herself?

She opted for a bath. That confused me for a moment as I didn’t remember offering her a bath, but if that was what she wanted, then she could have a bath. Was she going to wash her hair? No, could I do it? I knew it was going to be one of those days. How did they cope in Anne of Green Gables? I don’t remember them all being five or under and in those stories they all help each other, unlike real life where they usually mess with each other.

I ran a fairly shallow bath, washed Peaches hair, and left her to wash the rest of herself. Then I ran my two through the shower so fast, it was the closest they’d been to going through a car wash. I avoided the wax polish at the end.

Next it was drying them and sending them off to get Simon to help them dress, while I removed the fruited one from her bath, helped her dry and handed her her clothes. She always carried a spare pair of knickers in her bag–now there’s foresight for you!

Once dressed, I dried all their hair, and finished with a quick plait. Simon who had now showered agreed to get them breakfast with Tom’s help. I hopped in the shower–literally–my toe was still sore. The warm water eased it somewhat, and I dried my hair and dressed. I couldn’t be bothered with makeup, and I was very casually dressed in jeans and tee shirt, a Tour of Britain one–they gave it to me for marshalling for them.

The chimps tea party was nearly over by the time I got downstairs and I managed a cuppa and a banana before I rounded up the two schoolgirls and their various baggage. It was gym today, I handed Trish her kit and she looked anxious as she accepted it. I knew they had separate cubicles so there should be no problem, but just in case, Trish had on a pair of tight panties under her regular school ones. Peaches apparently left hers in her locker yesterday. More foresight?

The two girls chatted as I drove more or less on autopilot. I walked them into the school and as we entered the yard, the chattering classes of mothers went quiet. Then a voice said, “Is that her?” Another said, “Looks like her.” A third added, “It said with assistance from Portsmouth university, so it could be ‘er?”

“Why are they looking at us, Mummy?” asked Trish.

“Aunty Cathy was on telly last night, wasn’t she?” offered Peaches.

“Oh yeah, d’ya think they watched it?” Trish asked.

“I dunno, do I? You got a better idea?” said the more streetwise Peaches.

I felt physically sick. Why on earth did I make that film? Was it going to be worth it–the publicity it would bring? I had grave doubts, and it could subsequently bring the wrong sort. My mobile rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

I picked it out of my bag, it was Simon, “Hello Si.”

“Hi, babes, just be aware there are some strangers waiting at the end of the drive–they look like the gentlemen and women of the press. Oh, another’s just arrived that makes six so far. Gimme a ring when you’re nearby and I’ll come and get you.”

“I wondered if the old back gate was opened, I could drive in there and come through the orchard.”

“I’ll ask Tom, hang on.” He went off and a few minutes later said, “Yeah, he’s gone to open it, I’m going to do a distraction at the cars to keep the press occupied. See ya later.”

The children began to form lines and Peaches and Trish took their places with the rest of their classmates. I’d made a quick sandwich for each of them, plus an apple and a milk drink. I gave them a couple of pounds each to buy some extra food if they wanted to. I’ll bet they buy crisps or chips or fizzy drinks.

The parents kept staring at me and I felt most uncomfortable. “Was that your programme on the telly last night?” asked one of the women, “Because if it wasn’t, you’re the very spit of the woman who did it.”

“Yes, it was me.” I blushed profusely.

“You were excellent,” said the one.

“My ‘usband loved it, thought you was a right tease.”

“I’ll bet he knows a bit more abaht dormice though, done ‘e?”

“Nah, he was too busy watching Cathy in her shorts.”

“Don’t listen to ‘em, girl, it was very good, even I could recognise a dormouse now, without the teapot.”

I smiled, thanked them for the positive feedback and ran to my car. It was quite sunny, so I could put my sunglasses on without it looking suspicious. My mobile twitched, a text.

’Stay away from ‘ere, press out in force. Pip.’

I sent her a 'thank you' text back. And this was without any pre-publicity? Geez, what would it have been like with it?

Erin called me, “The BBC would like to do an interview, any chance?”

“When?”

“This afters, about three.”

“I’ve got to collect the girls from school.”

“Can’t your other half do it?”

“What sort of questions are they going to ask?”

“I hope ones relating to the film last night, why?”

“If I agree, and it’s only an if, I’m not answering any personal questions.”

“Okay, I’ll tell them.”

“I need to talk to Simon first. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Okay, I’ve got a feeling they did insert a clause about using you to advertise the programme.”

“Oh shit, that’s just great, Erin.” What am I paying you for, you dummy?

“Okay, get back to me as soon as you can.”

“I’ll try, but there’s a posse of them outside the house.”

“Damn, they didn’t take long, did they?”

“The un-dead never sleep, Erin.”

“I see you have experience of the press.”

“You betcha, and it wasn’t necessarily pleasant. Remember, if I do it this afternoon, no personal questions.”

“Okay already.” She rang off and I went home by a rather tortuous route. At least no one seemed to be following me.

I drove into a field behind the farmhouse, through a gate that was normally locked. I parked under some trees and sneaked across the orchard and through the side gate. By the time they saw me, I was two steps from the door and Simon flung it open and dragged me in, locking it behind me.

“It’s a sair fecht,” said Tom, muttering, “why?” he asked and shrugged at his own question.