(aka Bike) Part 824 by Angharad |
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“Is everything okay between your parents?” I asked Simon as we were getting into bed.
“In what way?”
“Well, like Monica doesn’t come to his bedside when he’s dangerously ill.”
“Like me, she knew that once you were on the case–everything would be okay.”
“Simon that is complacency to the point of–I don’t know–um...complacency.”
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“Well you lot could drive anyone to say things twice.”
“Gee thanks, that will do wonders for my self-esteem and developing mind.”
“Developing mind? Simon you’re nearly thirty.”
“Yeah but boys always take longer to mature than girls.” If anyone else said this I’d know it was just a joke–with Simon, I’m never sure.
“I can’t believe anyone would put their dog before their husband.”
“Nor me, but then Monica isn’t just anyone. I’m sure you’d do it for a dormouse.”
“That’s different, darling, dormeese are protected.”
“You mean husbands aren’t?”
“Only by their wives.”
“Oh, that’s alright then, thank goodness for that.” He was quiet for a moment then continued, “I hope that wasn’t a dig at the fact you had to rescue me?”
“Would I do a thing like that to you? Besides it was that old crone, Myrtle Kingston, who did most of the rescuing.”
“I got blood on my suit from that trigger happy hag.”
“Were you wearing a suit?”
“I think so. Yes, the grey one, it was ruined after your Russian friends finished knocking me about in it.”
“Simon, it wasn’t me they were after, it was your family–mine don’t own a bank, remember.”
“So it was. Can we make love now?”
“I hope that wasn’t your effort at foreplay.”
“Like the Australian one — you awake Sheila?”
“Never having tried it with an Aussie, I couldn’t possibly comment.”
“Want me to arrange a date with Skippy the kangaroo?”
“No, I think I’d really like to go to sleep.” I closed my eyes and seemed to drift off while Simon was talking about Australians he knew at university. Knowing him, he’d still be talking this time tomorrow, so I just went with the flow.
About two o’clock I was awakened by the gale which was howling around the house. For a moment, I wondered where I was, then I heard the tap-tapping which had awakened me.
“What’s that noise?” I asked Simon after a quick poke in the chest.
“What?” he opened his eyes, “What?” he repeated.
“That noise.”
“What noise?”
“Something tapping.”
He sat up in bed, “Probably the wind, go back to sleep.”
“It isn’t the wind.”
“Go and see then.”
“Simon, that’s your job not mine.”
“Since when?” he asked yawning.
“You big and muscular–me smaller and pretty. There is a reason you know?”
“Is there–I heard it that time. Okay, I’ll take a look.” He wearily got out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown over his tee shirt and underpants. He went downstairs in the dark. Wondering if it could be more of our little friends from across the Caspian, I pulled on my dressing gown over my nightdress, and followed him.
All I could hear was the storm raging all around me and the occasional tapping noise, then there was the sound of breaking glass and a pause. I stopped in the hallway, and reached out a walking stick with a fairly stout shaft. A door opened and in the next minute I heard a flurry of activity in the kitchen–furniture being knocked about and things being broken.
I ran in and switched on the light. Simon had hold of an intruder and none too gently. The intruder was struggling. He was wearing a ski mask and hoodie. Then he elbowed Simon in the tummy and grabbed me with one hand and a knife from the block on the draining board.
I could see this becoming a hostage type situation, so I ripped myself loose and began whacking him with the stick, he dropped the knife and tried to prise the stick from hands so didn’t see Simon come behind him. Simon hit him twice and the intruder went down like a stone groaning.
We secured his hands with some parcel tape and the same with his ankles–I know it sounds like a bondage story–then we were able to pull off the ski mask. It was a coloured youth, he looked about sixteen. He was crying when we really looked at him.
“Call the police, Cathy, tell ‘em we’ve caught an armed robber.”
“Don’t do that,” said the kid.
“Why shouldn’t I?” asked Simon.
“Jus’ lemme go an’ I’ll never come ‘ere again.”
“That’s hardly a criterion, is it? If you’re banged up, you won’t come back here either. Call the cops, Cathy.”
“What’s your name?” I asked him–his eye was closing over where one of us had hit him–it could well have been me.
“I ain’t gonna tell you nuffin’.”
“Would you prefer to tell the police?”
“No, Missus.”
I sorted a few upturned chairs and Simon picked him up and dumped him on one of them. I reached to look at his injured eye and he tried to snatch his head away, whereupon, Simon grabbed his head and held it firmly.
“You’re going to have a bit of a shiner tomorrow.”
“So–don’t ‘urt.”
“I can soon fix that,” offered Simon.
“Simon, can you fix a piece of wood or something over the window our little friend broke?”
“Are you going to be safe on your own with our little guest?”
“He’s quite harmless and I do have the stick.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can find in the shed.” He took the keys with him and went out through the back door.
“Now, what is your name?”
“I don’t need to tell you nuffin’.”
“No, the police can sort it out with you if you like. They’re only a call away.”
“So, I ain’t frightened.”
“Why were you crying earlier?”
“I wasn’t, your bloke hit me, made me eyes water, that’s all.”
“Okay, what were you looking for?”
“Money, car outside is a Merc–you got money, aintcha?”
“It isn’t our car–it’s a borrowed one.”
“They say you’re on telly, so you gotta be rich.”
“I’ve been on telly, I’m not now. I’m not rich.”
“What about da professor bloke, he’s a doctor?”
“A doctor of philosophy and a doctor of science, he’s a scientist not a medical doctor.”
“He’s gotta ‘ave money?”
“Not very much, and we don’t keep it here anyway.”
“You gonna ‘ave more dan me.”
“Probably, but we work damned hard for it. What do you do?”
“A bit of dis an’ dat.”
“Thieving?”
“Sometimes, why?”
“Are you still in school?”
“What’s it to you?”
“If you don’t cooperate, I can’t help you.”
“Why should you help me?”
“Yeah, why should I help you? A little thug like you, why should I help you? I suppose you’re into drugs or booze much of the time, aren’t you?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Nothing, nothing at all. Does your mother know you’re out at this time of night?”
“Leave my ma out of dis.”
“Why? She’s responsible for you. I could make life very difficult for her, you know. I have some very powerful friends.”
“You leave my ma out o’dis,” tears were streaming down his face.
“Why? Why should I?”
“She’s...” his head sunk on his chest and he began to cry.
I left him alone for a moment, sobbing quietly to himself while I put the kettle on. It was now half past two. Simon came back with some wood and began securing the door. It looked as if it was going to be a long night.
Comments
I'd like to think that Cathy could
magically "turn" a criminal to the side of the peaceful but don't have much hope. Someone who breaks into houses and tries to knife the occupants isn't likely to become sweet and nice with a simple conversation. Please Cathy, turn him over to the police.
Another foundling?
Cathy seems to draw people who seem bad, but turn out to be good people who need help, except the Russians and even one of them didn't exterminate her when she had the opportunity after the Scottish skirmish. The kid did pick the wrong house to burgle, or maybe it was the right house? At least he's not Russian. Very interested to hear the the intruders story. It will have to be a doozy after all the exploits detailed in the last 822 episodes.
Another turn of the wheel in Cathy's life. Nice repartee between Simon and Cathy.
Hugs,
Trish-Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~
Hugs,
Trish Ann
~There is no reality, only perception~
I admire
Cathy's ethics, but they are hardly practical. She can't rehabilitate everyone that she comes in contact with, anymore than she can heal everyone. 'Sides, he grabbed a knife to attack Cathy, knives don't "go off accidentally", had he stabbed her it would have been a deliberate act.
KJT
"Being a girl is wonderful and to torture someone into that would be like the exact opposite of what it's like. I don’t know how anyone could act that way." College Girl - poetheather
"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin
Cathy And Simon
Have THREE daughters, will this bloke become their adopted son, teen daughter, or what?
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Sorry, it must be the old
Sorry, it must be the old "Cop" in me, but I don't agree with Cathy's not wanting to call the police. If she is interested in the wellbeing of this person, then do it after he/she goes to court. Knives, in some instances, can be much more dangerous than firearms, and this person did try and grab one to use on Cathy and Simon. Jan
I wonder
What would happen if Cathy zapped this kid with her blue light special? That might make for an interesting twist.
Terminal
Yeah, but it's his Mum who's terminal, innit?
Anyway, that's my reading of the not-so-subtle clues.
Not sure what's going on here with the end-to-end healing episodes, but I suspect we're reaching some sort of crisis. Perhaps Cathy loses her power, or ends up with a health crisis of her own, or, *gasp*, wakes up from a dream soon, or maybe something else...
You know... the Church is rather possessive of its dogma. If they got wind of a supernatural healer who didn't believe in their religion... well, they'd pretty much want to suppress it, wouldn't they? Yeah, even if they had to resort to ummm... rather extreme methods. Does the Vatican still have dungeons?
Hmm, If they told you,
it would probably would include arranging a "personal" extended inspection by you.... :-)
Janice
It Is Another Sign
It is another sign to Cathy that she always seems to be in the right place to help someone. It is like she has a magnet drawing situations to her. I think this will prove to be another one. I think she is developing a sense to know when not to overreact. It will be interesting to hear the kid's story. Someone is trying awfully hard to convince her of something.
Motivation
The way I read it, Cathy's trying to weed out the lad's motivation for the attempted burglary before deciding on a course of action. He definitely wanted money (or something valuable) for some reason...
Meanwhile, given a teenage lad with only a knife (and presumably a handy stone/rock) managed to break into the house, I'm rather surprised Tom's house isn't more secure - especially as it's been visited by two different sets of Russians in the past year or so. After all, it's home to 7 people nowadays.
--Ben
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
Maybe now is
the time to consider moving, Given all that's happened recently, Cathy and Simon surely cannot feel safe living where they are now, What with Russians, burglars, and and anyone else who has a grievance against the bank or Cathy, Perhaps now is the time to put the safety of the family first....After all with all the money in the Cameron family, A mortgage is not going to be a problem!
Kirri
Everyone
You've missed the point here. Child #4.
They don't all have to be girls. And he could be TG.
Story number 5
Somewhere off in the distance, a mutual acquaintance is laughing in her beer, but is it today or tomorrow,or yesterday.
Now are you going adopt the young black gent, Cathy ?
Cefin