Easy As Falling Off A Bike part 55

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Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad & N.Cooke.
part LV

I was in town, the bag I was carrying contained a pair of navy shoes with three inch stiletto heels and a small leather handbag in a very close match of colour. I was feeling rather smug that both had been purchased from sale stock, so I'd saved quite a few pennies. Then I saw it.

I was walking past a charity shop. In the past I had frequented them for books, then finally clothes in starting my new wardrobe. I was very choosy and bought very little, but I saw something that I had to have. Well to be correct, I had to try on and if it fitted I would buy no matter how much it cost. Stella would probably kill me, but I'd live with that.

I entered the shop feeling very self-conscious, I don't think I had been in there since my changeover. I nodded at the woman behind the counter and she nodded back. The item I wanted was part of their window display, I hoped I could try it.

I reached into the window and looked at the price tag. I gasped, it was four pounds. At that price, it was certainly a bargain. "Could I try something on from your window display?" I asked the woman behind the counter.

"Depends upon what it is, I can't lift the mannequin out on my own." She walked over to the window with me. I told her what I wanted and she reached for the object, handing it to me. "There's a mirror in the changing cubicle," she said and went back to the counter.

I went to the cubicle and looked at myself. I had done my hair slightly differently that morning and didn't know if I liked it or not. Putting down my bag and shoes, I lifted the new item and examined it carefully before placing it upon my head.

The hat, for that is what it was, was a navy felt one, with a broad brim and a rounded crown. There was a ribbon about an inch wide around the base of the crown, on the left side of which, was a flower made from some silky material about two inches in diameter.

I pulled it on and with a degree of uncertainty looked in the mirror, my mother was looking back! I stepped back in astonishment. People had told me I took after my mother and very occasionally I could see her in certain expressions or gestures I used. Now and again I had seen bits of her in my eyes or nose or even my colouring. But this was something else.

You see my mother liked hats and being a churchgoer she wore them frequently. When I was a kid, I used to love to 'borrow' them and parade around the house until my father caught me. That was another hiding I got.

"Oh yes," said a voice from behind me and I nearly jumped out of my skin, squeaking with surprise.

"Oh, you made me jump," I said my heart thumping hard enough to damage my ribs.

"It suits you dear, I thought it might."

"I don't know, I think I look like my mother."

"Oh no, it makes you look sophisticated rather than older. It only came in last week and the policy is to sell them off cheaply because hats are difficult. I think it's only been worn once by the looks of things."

"I don't know, do you think it's suitable for a funeral?" I asked still very unsure after the shock in the mirror.

"I should think it's perfect, is it at a church or a crematorium?"

"A church, my mother didn't believe in being burnt, Second Coming and all that stuff."

"In which case it's perfect, what are you wearing it with?"

"A navy suit, a skirt suit."

"I should think it will be very smart. You say it's your mother's funeral?"

"Yes," I answered, still not sure about the hat.

"I'm sorry, was she very old?"

"No, fifty."

"Not old by today's standards."

I nodded my agreement, then hoped she wouldn't ask me any more questions like, 'what did she die from'? Because I had no more answers.

"Will I need a hat pin?" I asked trying to change the subject.

"Probably best, especially if the wind gets up. We have some nice ones over here, one or two are practically antiques."

The one I chose cost more than the bloody hat, but it was very nice, gold and lapis lazuli - probably all fake, but so was I! I chuckled as I thought of myself as the ersatz daughter, I still couldn't feel close to my father and remembering the hats episode, didn't endear him to me one bit. I had a nasty thought, which was pure evil. If I looked like my mother, what effect would that have on him, and how was he going to explain me away to his friends. 'Oh this is my son Catherine, he's just waiting for his sex-change, the little pervert!'

As I walked to the bus stop carrying my purchases, I ran so many scenarios through my mind about what could happen that I nearly set my brain on fire. It was still buzzing around my head when I got off the bus, nearly forgetting my bags.

When I got back to my room, instead of going off on the bike as I usually did when something bothered me, I went to the bathroom and began to fiddle with my hair. I put it in a pony tail and pinned it up, then put the hat on again. This time I looked like my grandmother, we had a photo of her at a wedding years ago, I looked like her sister.

I spent the next hour or more playing with my hair and the hat. Mostly I looked like me, but with traces of my mother or grandmother. Having dealt with the shock, I actually quite liked the resemblance, and I decided I would wear my hair as I did when I tried it on first, see what my father said.

I practised pinning it on, it was harder than it looked and I nearly speared my brains at one point. Then I went off into flights of fancy about a woman who murdered somebody on a plane by jabbing them in the spine with a hatpin. I reckoned it would have to have been poisoned to work and I couldn't remember if it was real or some film I'd seen. It put even more bizarre ideas in my mind in how to deal with my father as I fingered the pin nearly sticking it in the skin.

All I had to do now was convince Stella to let me wear it. I tried it on with the suit and it looked fine to me, very formal, very churchy, very unlike the wearer. A she in wolf's clothing, that was me.

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Comments

Fifty-Five

I've now read fifty-five of these story morsels. You'd think I'd have learned something by now. Yet, it never fails to amaze me how quickly they end and how strong the desire to turn to the next, abeit nonexistent, page.

Me, too

Yet I don't know if waiting a week for 7 times as much would be worth it, either.
Somehow, I do not think so.

Holly

One of the most difficult things to give away is kindness.
It usually comes back to you.

Holly

What she said. .

for me too. It's like Pippa says. I don't learn either, I eagerly click on the title and read, hungrily, emerging in the story. Then, totally lost in it, I wonder what will happen next. . And find it ends.
Not fair. Devastation. Read the last lines again, unwilling to stop. But. It. Does. End. For now.
For twenty four looong hours. :'S

I have numerous times promised myself I'd wait a whole week, so as to save up for a longer read, but I find I can't. It's useless, I'm hopelessly addicted.

Jo-Anne

A hat pin?

That sounds ominous.

Geoff

PS the ad at the bottom of the page is for Portobello Trilby hats @ £17.50. It's uncanny, and a bit scary, how the ads match story features. Not seen a cycling based one yet though,

bicycle bicycle

laika's picture

Geoff,
I really thing Google has some kind of program where the ad topics do respond to the text on the page, the most frequently used words. It has happened too many times to be a coincidence. Maybe it doesn't "read" these comment boxes, in which case I am going to appear rather foolish here, but let me try it: bicycle bike bicycle bike bicycle bike bicycle bike bicycle bike bicycle bike bicycle bike bicycle bike...
Or maybe a blog experiment is in order if someone wants to mention one thing lotsa times.

hats...

All the ads along side are for hats...

Well except for the one at the bottom for Tattoo Golf (strange...)

I love how Cathy is growing in confidence every chapter.

Janice

best 5 minutes of my day

I don't care how long ( or short) these episodes are lately they have been amongst my favorite parts of the day. I will be very sad when they come to an end. Thanks so much for writing them.

Love Kat

Then you are a very happy person,

judging from the date. I still stand in awe!

It is fun watching Cathy find herself.

24 hours is worth the wait.

In all these chapters to think I only had to wait more than 24 hours only once.You are doing a wonderfull job of writing a story I'll hate to see end.Keep up the good work Amy.

Not for me!

I'm a latecomer to this tale and I have been kicking myself for leaving it so long.

On the other hand, I realise that I CAN click on the link to the next chapter and carry on, whereas you poor sausages had to wait.

Sometimes lateness has its good points after all.

Nick

To think I've been a member

LibraryGeek's picture

To think I've been a member three years four weeks, and only just commenced reading. Yes I can read that much more without having to wait, but so much that I've missed during those years. I may not have been ready for this story until now?

Yours,

JohnBobMead

Yours,

John Robert Mead

Stella

A tg also?

Stella

No, Stella is fully female.