The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2605 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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Back at the hotel I called James, “Just where have you been—Simon’s very poorly because someone tried to kill him.”

“I’ve been working with Special Branch and MI5 to find out the source of the problem because if we don’t, we’ll have a hydra on our hands if you know what I mean?”

“I’m a biologist, James, I know a bit about Cnidaria.”

“About what?”

“Simple fresh water animals, the Cnidaria.”

“Right, I thought they were some sort of multi-headed thing from Greek mythology, you know, cut off one head end up with several more.”

“So just become Herakles.”

“Oh okay, didn’t realise it was so simple. I’ll pop down the costume shop and see if they can oblige.”

“You’ll need a lion skin and a large club.”

“What like Stringfellow’s?”

“No, you idiot, a large wooden thing for bashing hydras on the head.”

“Oh that sort of club, you had me worried for a moment.”

“Very funny. So what about this source?”

“We think it’s a character called Oleg Grigovski, a onetime hoodlum and now multi-millionaire and oligarch.”

“And?”

“We’re going to ask him to stop annoying us and to find another bank to play with.”

“How likely is that to work?”

“It is a long shot rising to about zero per cent.”

“If anything happens to Simon or my children, he will become the late and very dead Mr Grigovski.”

“I won’t tell him in case he does something to show how serious you are.”

“How about you send him a Bolognese sauce made from one of his minions?”

“That might be a trifle illegal, Cathy.”

“An illegal trifle—what’s the matter with these people, making trifles illegal?”

“Oh boy,” he sighed down the phone. I told him about Simon and he said he was sorry to have had that happen. He’d try and find out what the poison was and if they could reverse its effects upon Simon’s heart.

He told me that his guards couldn’t have protected Simon against the attack by doctor and suggested we station someone outside his room to protect him in case they tried it again. I told him someone was there and we were waiting for the results of blood tests.

Tom had gone home so the electrician could gain entry to the house. It looked as if the dishwasher was phut and it had caused the short which blew a ring main. He’d called the appliance shop he always used and they promised to deliver a new one during the afternoon. The good news was the insulation on the fridge and two freezers was good enough to keep everything safe and David was cooking with just the Aga.

We had lunch at the hotel and set off in the early afternoon. Men from the Portsmouth Appliance Centre were unloading the new dishwasher. They’d remove the old one and fit the new, plus test it before they went. At least we had power now so cups of tea were available—I went mad and had two then went off to pack some clean jammies for Si. Trish asked to accompany me. I knew why.

After having yet another wee—bloody tea—we set off and I asked her why she wanted to come. “You know why, Mummy.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, he’s my daddy an’ I love him.”

“I suppose that’s a good enough reason.” The way she was smirking showed that she knew that she’d wrong footed me.

“Yeah,” she said and gazed out of the window as we tried to get to the QA before the schools let out. The traffic just seizes up.

Simon was still asleep but his vitals were good and his kidneys were now functioning normally. Apparently they’d been causing a little concern earlier on. Now it was just his heart that was seen as a worry.

We let the doctor go. Allie had come with us and she stood guard outside the door so the guy that had been there could get a chance to eat drink and use the loo. Trish went straight up to Si and kissed him then said, “Awake, sleeping beauty.” He stayed asleep. “Huh, so much for fairy tales.”

“Sleeping beauty was only suffering from a bad spell.”

“A bad spell of what, Mummy?”

“A witch put her under a spell.”

“Oh, I thought you meant a bad spell of weather or someone who couldn’t spell for toffee.”

“Like you, you mean?”

“I can spell toffee.” She paused for a moment, “Would I have to clean my teeth after spelling it?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going to spell it then.”

“Can you two keep the noise down? I’m trying to sleep.”

We both sniggered. I’d been healing on him ever since I’d realised how much help he was going to need and it woukldn’t have surprised me if Trish had done the same. Okay, she’s a precocious ten year old who upsets people because her emotional cleverness in no way resembles her intelligence—there she’s almost like a post grad student.

The problem with plain cleverness is that it doesn’t help in relationships as you don’t quite learn how to read other people’s mood or feelings, hence my annoyance with her the other week. However, when she’s nice she’s very, very nice and when she’s bad she’s horrid.

She hugged her dad and kissed him, “See, I told you it would work—a kiss from a beautiful princess—it always works in Disney.”

“So it does,” he agreed and as we hit full steam ahead and Simon gasped his chest and fell back against the pillows. For a moment we both thought he was foolling about with us—seemed like he wasn’t. I pressed the emergency button on his handset and tried to get him flat to start CPR.

It’s amazing how fast doctors can travel when they’ve a mind to. They came running from everywhere and we withdrew to let them do their stuff. While we waited we sent him love and healing.

“How did that happen, Mummy?”

“I don’t know, just plain old fashioned bad luck, I guess,” I shrugged as well for good measure.

“Were you healing on him—earlier, I mean?”

“You know I was.”

“So it shouldn’t have happened?”

“These things do, I’m afraid. As his heart healed, a bit of muck from an artery might have been thrown off and it blocked somewhere else.”

“Hmm,” was all she said but from the expression on her face it wasn’t going to happen again.