The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2719 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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Looking at Trish asleep with the light coming from oncoming vehicles, I felt such a warmth for her. She looked like a sleeping pixy, without the pointy ears. I loved her so much, even though she was a challenge. I thought about how we first met and how, Sam Rose had talked me into taking her for a few days and I still had her some years later, and was now her adopted mother—all legal and official. She was clutching her red bag to her as she zonked. I smiled as I thought about it.

I thought back to my previous talk at Sussex, where I’d had to cope with the insults of Abi’s partner when we all went to dinner with Esmond Herbert afterwards. Then driving back my car had kept breaking down and I ended up at a services on the motorway and met that crazy vicar who was convinced he’d met an angel. I wonder if he’s still checking out the service areas?

We entered Portsmouth and the change in either the engine noise or increase in streetlights meant Trish began to stir. She yawned and blinked at me, then looked at me as if she was momentarily confused. Recovering, she asked if were home yet. “Not quite, sweetheart, but will be very soon. You go back to sleep and I’ll tell you when we’re there.”

“Okay,” she said, yawned and seemed to zonk again, possibly she hadn’t really woken, just sort of half surfaced and my reassurance sent her off again.

At eleven o’clock the traffic was fairly quiet although it looked as if a fight was starting outside an Irish pub. I drove past as quickly as I could, that was the last sort of lunacy to get involved with. Some ten minutes later I pulled into the drive and shook Trish, she remained fast asleep. Taking my bag I left the sleeping child in the car which I locked. Thankfully, Simon was in and when I asked him he came and lifted her out of the car like she was a feather. He carried her in and asked where to place her, I told him up to her bed. Once there I stripped her and after pulling on to a nightdress tucked her in and left her to sleep.

“How’d it go?” asked Simon.

“Okay, I guess.”

“Okay? You’re one of the best speakers I’ve ever seen in action.”

“It seems they liked it.”

“I’ll bet they did, pity I missed it.”

“C’mon, Si, you’d have been bored to tears.”

“I wouldn’t and you should know that better than anyone.”

I accepted his mild rebuke and apologised.

“So what gimmick did you use to make them laugh?”

“I pretended I had the wrong DVD, told them I was doing a talk on kittens and puppies.”

“What Dr Dormouse doing a talk on kittens? The only one you know is that little psychopath who ran off with Lizzie’s dolly.”

“What Bramble did?”

“Yeah, she snatched it off Lizzie and dragged it away like a leopard carrying a wildebeest.”

“Do leopards eat wildebeest?” I asked because I didn’t actually know and although I’m aware all the big cats are very powerful animals, they’d need to be to drag three hundred pounds of dead herbivore up a tree—leopards often eat up trees. By that I don’t mean they eat trees but that they climb trees and then eat their prey. Somehow I couldn’t see Bramble doing that, dragging a dolly up a tree.

“Do they eat what?”

“You said that leopards ate wildebeest. I’m not sure they do. Lions will take them but I’m not sure leopards do.”

“Bloody women, you always take things too literally. I was using it as an analogy.”

“Fine, but I’d still like to ask if they do—leopards hunt wildebeest, that is?”

“Look on the internet, it’s full of useless information.”

“Yeah okay,” I yawned and pecked him on the cheek before retiring to bed and was asleep before he followed me up. Obviously my buzz had crashed and I was doing the same before real damage occurred.

He would ask questions the next morning but I’d prevaricate while I tried to remember what we’d done and for how long.

I was wrong, he didn’t ask any questions because the next morning when I awoke, he’d gone to work. Sometimes I hate the bank. I struggled out of bed and into the shower where some water did help me to wake myself up a little. Then I checked on Julie and Phoebe, both were either dressing or showering. The girls all seemed to be drowsy this morning, Danielle being a teenager could sleep for England, so I didn’t really expect to see her until later on. I went down to get my own breakfast and had my toast pinched first by Julie and then Phoebe. As I made some more Hannah came into the kitchen and started pouring herself some cereal.

“Anybody else awake?” I asked her as I made myself some banana on toast.

“Not really, Mum—I mean, Auntie Cathy.”

“Go on, let her call you mummy, too,” jibed Julie.

“But Hannah has one already.”

“Who would you rather call your mother, the woman who had you or this one?” Julie addressed our latest recruit.

Hannah blushed, “Um...”

“Don’t tease her, Julie. It’s okay, Han, she’s only joking.”

“I wish you were my mother, at least you’re interested in what I do and want me to do well at school and stuff.”

“See, told ya,” called Julie and she and Phoebe left for work.

“Don’t pay any attention to them,” I said to Hannah.

“She’s right, I really do wish you were my mother.”

“Because I can give you nicer things?”

“Not really, it’s because you actually care about your children, not see them most of the time as a nuisance. I always seemed to be in the way at home, even when we came here, until David babysat for me and she could go out and drink as she wanted. He’s a nice man, David.”

“He’s very fond of you, you know.”

“I know he fancied himself as my father, but I prefer Uncle Simon—he’s more fun, and coming here I have loads of sisters and we get on really well together. I feel this is who my family shoulda been, not that saddo with her boyfriends and booze.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” I opened my arms and she came for a hug.

“Mum never hugged me, an’ she was jealous of you and your money. She said you’d be after me, wanting to add me to your collection.”

“I’m sorry, Hannah, if that’s what I’ve done, I apologise.”

“No—I love being here with you and the others, it feels like a family should be and i do wish you were my mother. Will you be my mother, Auntie Cathy?”

How do I answer her that? “I’d love to be, Hannah, but I’m not sure what Ingrid would say to anything in that direction. She might block everything I tried to do, saying I stole you or something.”

“I’d tell them she was lying and that I prefer you as my mother—can I call you mummy, like all the others do?”

What do you say to that?