The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1954 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Mummy,” yelled Danny rushing into the house.

I was in the study reading some papers on dormice from a seminar on mammal behaviour held in Aberdeen a couple of months ago. “I’m in here, son,” I called back.

“Guess how many goals?” he said excitedly as he charged into the room. He looked like a mud skipper, one of those primitive fish that live in Africa and bury themselves in the mud of ponds to survive the coming drought.

“How many goals where?” I still wasn’t sure what he was on about except he’d probably scored them. “Just calm down and tell me from the beginning.”

He looked downcast for a moment then realised I was enabling him to declare all his glory to me and I’d listen to it all as a dutiful mother should.

“Mr Samuels reinstated me and he kept Germaine and me apart, which didn’t worry me, he smells anyway. We done the practice things like passing and tackling, then we had two games, an’ I scored in both against that fathead.”

“Well done, so your boots talked for you.”

He looked bemused at this for a moment then the penny dropped. “Oh yeah, like they did didn’t they?”

“So how many?”

“How many boots?” This time he looked really bewildered, “Two–I’ve only got two feet, Mum.”

“I wonder if that’s why we’re called bipeds?” I mused out loud.

“What?” Now I’d really lost him–oh boy, this is harder work than it should be.

“Bi–meaning two, ped–meeting foot or footed, biped–two footed.”

“Oh yeah, I get you now, I thought you meant some sort of bike.”

“I suppose bipedal could relate to bicycles, because they have two pedals. How many goals did you score?”

“I was telling you–Germaine was in goal against me in both games. In the first I scored twice, one was a header, Mum, he wasn’t expecting me to go for it. I dived and flicked in the corner over his head. He looked a right idiot.”

“And the second?”

“Right through his legs, he looked even more stupid then. We won five three, an’ I made one of the other goals.”

“Well done.”

“Then we ’ad lunch and David’s pasty was brill.”

“I wasn’t aware what he gave you.”

“Yeah, it was good an’ then we played the second match.”

“You played two matches of ninety minutes?”

“No, twenty minutes each way, so forty minutes per game.”

“So what took so long?”

“Well you can’t run about on top of a meal, can you?”

“True, so what did you do?”

“We watched a coaching film about picking out your players to pass to, and marking your opponent’s players to stop them doing it.”

“Perhaps they should show it to the England team?”

“Nah, they win now and again, and they won last time against Brazil.”

Beginner’s luck possibly, though I didn’t share my thoughts with my son. “What about the second game?”

“Oh yeah, we kept the same sides as before and this time I put two past him and then took a penalty.”

“Did you score?”

“Didn’t I just. They showed us a film on penalty taking this mornin’ and Geoff Hurst and Gary Lineker were some of the best penalty takers ever. Hurst used to smash them into the top corner out of the goalie’s reach and Lineker used to put them all over the place, so the goalie had no idea where it was likely to go.”

“And where did you put yours?”

“I could see he was going to dive to his right, so I just tapped it gently the other way, he was lying on the floor when it rolled in by the post. He looked a right narna.”

“Did you have fun playing?”

“Oh yeah, it was absolutely brill, Mum–thanks for getting me back on the course.”

“Perhaps you’ll learn to control your temper in future. If it happens again, I won’t help you again–understand?”

“It won’t, Mum, I learned somethin’ about that.”

“It’s always better to save your energy and make it count when it will have most impact. Is this boy in your school?”

“No, he lives in Gosport, but we play his school next month in the cup.”

“In the cup?”

“Yeah, the Portsmouth and District under fifteen’s cup.”

“I see, so you fancy your chances, do you?”

“Yeah, especially with pig-breath in goal.”

“Never mind calling him names, save your energy for scoring goals. Now, have you had a drink?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes thank you,” I corrected him.

“Yes thank you, Ma-ma,” he said and I glared at him.

He smirked and I sent him up to shower. I wonder how many Trish would have scored in the same circumstances?

The girls seemed very quiet and when I looked they were playing on the Wii thing, football, would you believe? Trish and Livvie were watching while Puddin’ and Cate tried to play the game.

The phone rang and Stella answered, she chatted for a while then called me. I wondered if it had been her call initially as she spent quite some time talking. “Hello?” I said picking up the handset.

“Hello, Mummy, it’s Jacquie.”

“Hello, darling, how are you?”

“I’m fine, look I won’t keep you too long–but we’re gonna get a civil partnership thing?”

“Oh, is that wise seeing as they’ll be bringing in some legislation on same sex marriage before too long.”

“That could take like years, Mummy.”

She was quite right and I was stalling for time, she’d only known the girl a few months. “Yes but I think it would be so much nicer.”

“For who?” she retorted obviously not pleased by my response.

“I would hope for everyone, but if you want a civil partnership, that’s up to you–you know we’re delighted whatever you do if it makes you happier.”

“You don’t sound it, Mummy.”

“It’s a bit of a shock, darling, that’s all–it seems so sudden.”

“Well we love each other.”

“I know you do, sweetheart, look why don’t you both come to dinner on Sunday and we could discuss it then and see how we could help you with it.”

“Help us?”

“Yes, you know, with some money towards things–are you planning a reception or party afterwards?”

“Hadn’t got that far.”

“Well, we’d love to discuss it, sweetheart, and I’m sure Daddy and Gramps would like to hear about it too.”

“I don’t know, it sounds like you might be trying to stop me.”

“I can’t, sweetheart, you’re over eighteen, you can do as you wish–I’d just like to be involved a bit, as your mum, and I know all the girls would like to be involved.”

“You don’t have bridesmaids–there’s no bride, Mummy, it’s not a wedding, remember?”

“Yes but they’d like to dress up.”

“Well don’t expect me to, you know me–don’t do frillies and dresses.”

“No, but you would look nicer in a decent trouser suit.”

“Mummy, that’s for girlies–we’re doing it our way.”

“Fine, but can’t you come and tell us all about it on Sunday? I’ll ask David to cook something really nice.”

“I dunno, I’m quite busy with coursework and stuff.”

“Too busy to tell your mum about your special day plans–we’d like to share in it with you, sweetheart.”

“Can I call you tomorrow?”

“That won’t give David much chance to organise a nice dinner will it?”

“He’ll be doing one anyway, won’t he?”

“Yes, but with two extra places, that’s quite a bit of food.”

“No it isn’t, no when he’s cooking for the five thousand anyway. I’ll ring you tomorrow, byeee.” She rang off and I felt totally outmanoeuvred–bugger.