Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 224

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Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part 224.

After showering and dressing, I went to get my breakfast. Simon was busy on the phone, he waved at me to get him some more coffee, which I did.

I had described the accident and he'd made notes, however because it was a complicated incident, the insurance company was suggesting that it could take some time to settle. This was partly because of the possible prosecutions arising from such things, which could affect insurance validity. I was glad Simon had apparently volunteered to deal with it.

As I breakfasted I listened to him get ever more frustrated, "So why can't you supply a hire car? But I keep telling you she was a victim in all this for goodness sake, she was stationary. Please do and send me the claim forms, yes to Lord Simon Cameron care of my bank."

He threw up his hands but before I could interject, he picked up the phone, so I blew him a kiss and went off to do my makeup. When I came back he beamed at me, "A car will be here within the hour."

"Simon you are wonderful, do you know what sort it is?"

"Something reasonable, or I'll get the bank to call in his mortgage," he winked.

"You wouldn't, would you? Don't answer that, I don't think I want to know."

He chuckled and went off to finish dressing.

"Are you not working today?" I'd assumed the banks were open.

"I have the week off, and besides I'm coming to this funeral with you, so is Tom."

"That's at two o'clock, who's going to see Stella?"

"We all will after the funeral, she does know about it."

"I need to go and check the dormice, do I need to get my bike out?"

"What right this minute?"

"No, but in time to be able to go to the funeral."

"Obviously. Have you looked at the piece you have to read?"

"I will after I've done the dormice."

"Why not do it now, while we wait for the car to arrive?"

"Okay okay, keep your hair on."

"Well I don't want to be associated with a poor reader, and I'm sure you can do it very well."

"I've read the lesson before."

"Go and read it again."

I considered myself dismissed and went off to find Tom's Authorised version. I was so enthralled by the language that I didn't hear the doorbell. Simon came in and whistled to me, I looked up just in time to see him throw me some keys which of course went straight through my hands and onto the floor. He rolled his eyes and tutted.

I simply blushed.

"Come on then, don't you want to see the new car?"

"Of course I do, but let put my coat on first." I grabbed it and followed him out to the drive.

There stood before me a black VW Golf dti. It was immaculate, but then so was my Mercedes until a day or two before. I unlocked it and got in, arranged the seat and the mirror for comfort, and went through the gears before I switched on the engine. Then checked out the lights and wipers. Then at his exhortation, I took it for a spin. It went like a rocket even though it was a diesel. I was very happy with it.

"How long have I got this for?"

"As long as you need, if you really like it, I'll try and get the insurance to cough up for it."

"I hope Paddington will like it."

"If I see bits of marmalade sandwiches anywhere near this, you will be back on your bike!"

"What even after my op?"

"Especially then!"

"You're a hard man Simon Cameron."

"Make your mind up, yesterday I was wonderful."

"So, I'm fickle. I'm a girl, it's allowed."

"Right go off and poison your rats, I need to send some emails."

"I need to get my bag." I ran into the house and picked up my handbag, then back out to the car. I hugged him and kissed him, "Thank you Simon, you are wonderful."

"Make your mind up, you fickle female!"

"I have, you're wonderful," as I spoke he pretended to doff his cap and took a bow. "For the moment anyway." I laughed and he poked out his tongue at me.

As I parked up at the uni, I realised I'd need a new permit, the old one was stuck to the remains of the windscreen of the old car. I would have to ask Tom to organise it for me when the Christmas recess was over.

Spike was about the only one of them awake, so we had a little cuddle and I gave her a Brazil nut, which she wolfed down so fast I was worried she'd choke, but she didn't. I cleaned out the cages and left.

I was back about an hour after leaving and organised some lunch. I made some soup and we finished off the loaf I'd made the day before. Simon decided he would drive and I was happy for that, doing the lesson was enough. I was pretty sure I had the sort of tempo organised so that they were able to hear what I said yet it was fast enough not to lose the meaning.

We washed up after lunch and I went and changed into the navy suit I'd worn to my mother's funeral. I checked my hair and makeup, some of the mourners may well recognise me so I didn't want to let the side down. I had tissues shoved in various strategic places just in case my eyes began to water.

We arrived at the crematorium and I was introduced to the priest who would do the service. He told me he would give me a nod when it was time to do the reading. So we sat fairly close to the front.

The coffin arrived and so did his family. I felt myself start to choke up, it was pitiful to see, they were all so distraught. Simon put his arm around me and hugged me. I was grateful for his support and rested my head against his shoulder.

I'm afraid I went into trance mode, the priest spoke and we stood, then we sat and he spoke some more. We sang a hymn, he offered some prayers and nodded to me. Simon gave me a little push and I tottered out to the lecturn. I placed Tom's bible on the lecturn and opening it began:

"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.

And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.

Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

Here endeth the lesson."

I staggered back to my place and Simon hugged me with one arm again. I felt the tears run down my face. This is probably the most beautiful set of verses in the whole Bible, certainly the most poetic and the poor person who had chosen them was the only one here unable to hear them. It seemed so wrong.

Stevie's parents, particularly his dad was in an awful state, his sobbing was heartbreaking. I wanted to go to him and hug him until all his pain had stopped.

The priest began his eulogy, as usual it showed he'd never met the boy and it also showed he didn't have the courage to say more than a fleeting hint at the cause of death. I accepted that might be for his family's sake, but I also had this guy in the fancy dress down as a coward.

The longer he went on the more angry I became, Simon sensed my anguish and hugged me again. It helped to calm me. Finally after the committal, when a curtain moves across in front of the coffin, the priest told us that we could make donations to the Terence Higgins Trust, the leading HIV AIDS trust, in lieu of flowers. I had fifty pounds in an envelope in my purse and I knew Tom and Simon would do similarly.

The priest asked us to leave the chapel and respect the privacy of the family. We filed out and Stevie's sister Mandy, came and hugged me. "That was a beautiful reading, thank you."

I nodded, too choked to speak. I briefly squeezed the hands of his parents and avoided the priest who proferred a hand at me. I didn't want him near me.

I gave my envelope to the undertaker, and saw Simon and Tom do the same. Outside I recognised several students and we hugged, especially those from my tutorial groups. Tom spoke with one or two lecturers and then we left that place of sadness.

We stopped at a pub on the way to the hospital. I made do with a soft drink but Tom and Simon sank a brandy apiece. I then drove Simon's car to the hospital and we went to see Stella.

I was delighted to see she was out of bed, seated by the side in an arm chair. I rushed in and hugged her.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"As well as those things can go. Cathy's lesson was beautiful." Tom stood behind me. "It always strikes me as bizarre that an old fart like me goes to the funerals of children. It's all upside down, they should be coming to mine."

"Such is life, Tom, such is life. But if you play your cards right, I might just have the perfect lesson and reader for your funeral," said Simon, squeezing me on the shoulder.

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Comments

Cathy's Reading Is Indeed One Of The Most Profound

I wept when I read this chapter because I will mourn poor Stevie. Please Angharad, keep his family in the story. I can't help but think that Stevie's Dad will need to talk to Cathy in order to come to terms with his bigotry against gays that cost him his love for his son.
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

What a horrible thought!

I know (or at least I imagine I do) that Cathy would have a LOT of trouble with that reading... She'd probably get through it, but the crash afterward. Well, Simon'd better be there, that's all I can say.

That was a lovely verse!

Thanks, Annette

déjà vu on so many levels

Very moving - Angharad, your are truly an artist.

Oh, there is so much in this episode with which I can personally identify: the beauty and meaning of the reading, the aloofness of the priest, Tom's feelings about going to funerals of people younger than him... Reality, the rhythm and order of life, is so rarely what we were taught to believe.

I want to go off on a rant about people who read and profess to live by the teachings of the Bible, or any other holy book of wisdom, but don't apply the lessons - but I won't.

Thanks for getting so many ideas flowing in my head, so many connections.

YW

He conquers who endures. ~ Persius

So Very Well Told!

You've done well, once again, Ang. Thank you so much!

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

x

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

Beginnings and endings

Make due with what is here and now - cherish it - like this wonderful story and when its end come, let it go. But remember it well. That is the best we can ever do.

Kim

absolutely lovely

Angharad

I have been reading your Story since you started writing it.
I had to go to the library and copy the story onto a pen drive
and then take it home to read it on my computer at home. We (my family and I) didn't have internet at home because of money and such and just recently got it back. I would read your story and feel good for the rest of the day and then hurry to the library the next day for your next chapter. I must say this one may just keep me feeling good for a month or so. I'll still read your story every day or so anyway just wanted you to know the lengths some people go to to read your stuff please, please keep it up

Vladd

I can totally agree with

I can totally agree with Cathy abour the priest. I have been to several funerals, including ones of my own family members, where the priest or minister did not know the deceased and had not made it a point of getting any information about them from the family members so it could at least look like he did. You could really tell that when you were listening to them speak, and I honestly believe it makes the funeral that much more difficult for the surviving family members. A very nice, but sad chapter Angahard. J-Lynn

An Atheist

As an atheist I find all religions distasteful and responsible for much of the pain and suffering in this world.

That said I must acknowledge that the St James Version has much wonderful poetry. The quoted passage is one of my favourites (another is "Let us now praise famous men ...") as the sentiments expressed give a guide to anyone, anywhere, anytime.

I find myself laughing or crying, often both, as I read each chapter and, as with the Gaby saga, I go back to chapter 1 every now and then to enjoy and indulge in an orgy of reading.

Thanks.

I well remember the VAT,

I well remember the VAT, both in Great Britain and Germany when I was stationed there. Now one of our presidential candidates is trying to get a national sales tax into place here in the US to take the place of our federal income tax. Should be interesting if it succeeds. J-Lynn

I am not an athiest

But I don't claim we have all (or even close to all) the answers. I believe Death is a beginning, not an end. We mourn for ourselves, as we have to carry one without the love of those who have passed.

Lesson

I once was asked to do a dedication for a World Champion show horse, luckily I was given the script 3 days before. I read that 10minute dedication 20 times. I entered the announcer's booth, all ready to go. the horse was led into the spotlight, and wham, every other light went out!! good thing I practiced, I did it from memory, then fainted

Cefin
,