The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2260 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Oh great, cheese on toast,” I love cheese on toast said Danni as she helped me call the others to eat.

“Really, girl, you should be helping me get it.” I said to her realising my mistake in not getting her to help.

“I’ll help you eat it instead,” she chuckled at me. She seemed so girly at times, where had Danny the footballer gone? It looked as if he’d fallen into another dimension and this girl had replaced him. Having said that the comment was more Daniel than Danielle. Did that worry me even more–perhaps.

Sammi didn’t eat much of her lunch, so Danni helped herself to extras from her sister’s plate. “You won’t keep your girlish figure if you eat like that,” snapped her sister.

“Who took your lollipop?” Danni fired back.

“You should be in school,” was Sammi’s parting shot as she went back up to her room to either dilate or do something on her computers.

“What’s eating her?” asked our newest daughter.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged and asked Stella to have a chat with her as sometimes they don’t want to talk with me. While they chatted, Danni and I cleared up and I gave her the option of taking the babies out for a walk–with a push chair or helping me do the dinner.

“You coming on the walk?” she asked me.

“No, Jacquie is, why?”

“Sometimes I like to be with my mum.”

“You can be with me, but you’ll be spud bashing.”

“What?”

“Peeling potatoes.”

“What did you call it before?”

“Spud bashing, it’s army slang. People who were put on charges had to do chores like peeling potatoes–hundreds of them.”

“Like here then–hundreds of potatoes.”

“Only because you and Daddy eat so much.” I was joking but she took it the wrong way.

“Everyone is on about the amount of food I eat–I’m hardly fat, am I?”

“No, sweetheart, you have a lovely figure.”

“It’s not as nice as yours, Mummy.”

“I could do with losing a few pounds–must get riding again when the weather improves.”

“D’you think I’ll be able to ride a bike again?”

“Of course, but it might be a couple of months yet.”

I couldn’t remember how long it took me to get back on a bike. I started preparing the meal and Danni drifted away–she doesn’t seem much interested in being a homebuilder. In the end she went off with Jacquie and the two little ones. Stella came downstairs and I switched on the kettle.

“Post op blues.” She said taking the mug of tea from me, “We got any of those chocolate Hob Nobs left,” she asked looking in the cupboard. My secret store had been discovered.

“So you think that’s what it is, then?” I checked as I munched on the biscuit.

“Yep, I reckon that if you’ve had a goal in mind for ages, perhaps many years, once you get there, what’s left?”

I knew the theory of anti-climactic post achievement or whatever they called it. Stella had summed it up pretty well. Add to it that she was wanting to road test her new device and was then disappointed as her boyfriend dumped her while she was in hospital, going off with a real woman. It happens. How could I get her distracted until she found something to amuse herself?

She’d shown a brief dalliance with cooking when she thought she might have to do it for her partner, then it all went pear shaped. I checked on the meat, it was simmering nicely in the large pan along with onions, garlic, mushrooms and beer. I was doing steak and ale pie. The pie dish is large, one of the tray sort you see in hotels and restaurants. I floured the work top and emptied the pastry out of the mixer and began to roll it. I glanced at the clock and speeded up what I was doing.

Twenty minutes later I lifted the tray into the oven and shut the door. It would take a while to cook. I washed my hands and checked myself in the mirror before going to collect the mouseketeers. I hoped Trish had forgotten about my tender spot from the morning as the joke was becoming old very quickly. She had and the three of them helped me get some items from the supermarket. Since David had been sick the cupboards had become a bit bare.

David was home now so we didn’t see anything of Ingrid or Hannah. I’d called over to see him once and he still looked pretty weak and washed out. It was going to take some time before he was back to work. Ingrid is no cook, so occasionally I’d send some food over for the three of them, tonight would be a case in point. I’d sent Sammi over with it the fresh air would do her good.

Back at home, the mouseketeers went off to change and then Trish and Livvie came to help me do the veg–potatoes, carrots and some broad beans and peas. Once it was all under control, I slipped upstairs and after using the bathroom, checked on Sammi. She was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling.

“What’s the matter, kiddo?”

“Nothing why?”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your problem.”

“Actually, it is. If my family are acting as if they have difficulties, then it becomes my business.”

“Isn’t that a bit arrogant–I mean, even if I had a problem, perhaps I’d like to solve it myself.”

“Feel free, but don’t just lie there like a carpet runner.”

“A what?”

“A carpet runner–I’ve seen more life in one too–but we traced the donor back to Kiki.”

“What are you on about?”

“Fleas–the dog got them and one of the carpets had to be sprayed with insecticide. It was crawling with them and their offspring.”

“When was this?”

“Oh long before you came but it was embarrassing all the same.”

“Ugh fleas.”

“It happens.”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s troubling you–not fleas I hope.”

“Ha ha–not.”

“Samantha, I know I’m only your mother in a symbolic sense, but I do care for you.”

“I know that, Mummy, I’m sorry, I’m just wondering if I wasted my time getting the op when I might never have a chance to use it.”

“Ah.”

“So now you know.”

“Sammi, you are a very pretty girl. You won’t be alone for long, of that I am pretty sure. But if you skulk around here all day, you won’t meet anyone, will you?”

“Um, I could actually–I’ve signed up with an internet dating agency.”

“Oh–is that a good idea?”

“I haven’t told them I’m a tranny if that’s what you mean.”

“I was meaning more about the bruising down below still. If you find someone you’ll have to explain all that.”

“Not necessarily, it could take weeks to get a few dates and them to whittle them down to someone really special, who gets to road test it.”

I was glad she seemed to be dealing with things herself and trying to move on. I wasn’t so sure about internet dating.

“Okay, dinner will be ready at six thirty.”

“What is it, Mummy?”

“Steak and ale pie.”

“Oh good, I like that.”

“Yeah, well I’m just hoping the barrel is cooked by then...”

Her laughter followed me down the stairs.