Narrow Minds (7 page)

‘Paddling pool?' Geoff laughed, ‘It's amazing isn't it, that there can be such a difference in temperature over just two hundred miles?' He looked around. ‘Where are the horrible two? Have you finally lost all patience and buried them in a local field?'

‘Sam's at Aaron's.' I winced and worded it carefully, ‘Charlie's in bed.'

‘Bed?' Geoff, finally managing to extricate himself from all his outer garments wandered toward the kitchen, no doubt in search of the kettle. ‘Oh dear, is she not well?'

‘Well, she's been sick a couple of times.'

‘Tummy bug?'

‘No.' I gave up trying to word it well. ‘Apparently a good dose of scotch.'

Geoff stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and did a slow about face. ‘What?'

‘Half a bottle of scotch.' I grinned at him. ‘It seems, from what I've managed to get out of her with her head down the toilet, that she and Tom …'

‘Tom?' Geoff came over and sat beside me on the rug.

‘Friend from school I assume.' I flapped a hand at him. ‘Anyway, they decided that drinking a bottle of scotch at lunchtime would be a good idea and then not having the nerve to skip school after drinking it, they went back and attended all their lessons.'

Geoff assimilated that information for a moment then said slowly, ‘Oh dear.'

‘Yup!' I clambered to my feet and went to sit on the sofa rubbing the one arm and leg that had reached an unreasonable temperature. ‘I wonder if anyone noticed.'

Geoff shook his head. ‘Is she very unwell?'

‘Yep.'

‘But she will be all right?'

‘Yes, she brought most of it back up. I'll keep an eye on her and maybe give Helen a call later.'

Geoff nodded. ‘Always good to have a paramedic to hand,' he said, ‘but she feels terrible?'

‘Yep.'

‘Throbbing head?'

‘Yep.'

‘Rolling stomach?'

‘Yep.'

‘Thinks she might die?'

‘Yep.'

Geoff gave me an evil grin. ‘Oh good!'

I laughed and gave him a little swat. ‘Well at least it might stop her trying to drink at the wedding next weekend.' I shuddered and winced ‘That could have been far more embarrassing.' I watched Geoff make another break for the kitchen and decided that now would be a great time to put my evil plan in action. ‘Listen, I've been having a think about next weekend.'

Geoff stuck his head around the door and eyed me warily. ‘Oh yes?'

‘Well seeing as how we're heading down south what about making a weekend of it, staying in one of those family rooms at a service station and on the Sunday we could go to Crick.'

He looked at me, suddenly interested. ‘Is it the boat show that weekend?' Geoff gave me a big grin. ‘How do you think the kids will take the news? They seem to hate everything to do with boating at the moment …'

At that moment we were interrupted by the front door being flung open and Sam, accompanied by Mickey, flounced through the door.

‘Oh hi,' Mickey smiled and said, ‘here he is, all safe and sound.'

I gave Sam a hug and said to Mickey, ‘Was he good?'

‘Oh yes, yes no problem at all.' She shrugged slightly. ‘Well, they didn't get on very well today, there was a lot of arguing about a game they were playing.'

I looked at Sam, he was slumped on the sofa, arms crossed on his chest, the very picture of wounded innocence. ‘Sam?' He glared up at me, angry eyes half hidden behind his hair. ‘What happened?'

Sam jumped to his feet and I decided that it was probably going to be a very long and involved explanation which was going to end in ‘it wasn't my fault', so I waved him back down again. ‘Tell me later,' I warned him, he flung himself back on the sofa with a heavy sigh.

‘I'm sure it was just one of those things,' Mickey said.

‘Coffee?' I glanced at Sam who seemed to be holding his lips together by dint of sheer willpower.

‘Oh no.' Mickey turned towards the door. ‘Aaron's in the car, maybe next time, but thanks anyway.' And with that she was gone, blown through the door and out toward her car by another gust of freezing wind.

Sam actually managed to wait until the door closed behind her before he launched into his explanation. As expected it was long, very detailed and completely Aaron's fault. When I said to him that it sounded like it was six of one and half a dozen of the other he almost exploded.

‘It wasn't my fault,' he stormed, ‘I hate it here, I want my boat back and I want a hamster!'

‘What?' The last request didn't fit at all with the rest of the rant.

‘Oh forget it.' Sam jumped to his feet and stamped toward the stairs. ‘Charlie said that you'd say no, I don't know why I even bother asking.' And with that baffling statement he stomped up the stairs. At the top he paused and screamed down at us. ‘I never get anything, ever!' Then there was the house-shaking crash as his bedroom door was slammed shut.

A drawn-out groan issued from the other bedroom as Charlie was startled half-awake by her brother's hysterics.

‘Hamster?' Geoff appeared beside me holding two steaming mugs.

‘I have absolutely no idea.' I shook my head and cuddled my coffee. ‘No whisky in this?'

Geoff shook his head but wandered off toward the kitchen. ‘Sorry, I should have put some in.' He grinned at me. ‘I don't think you really need it but you should drink it as soon as possible.'

I frowned. ‘Why? It doesn't go off.'

‘Well if you don't drink it, your alcoholic daughter will, and if she doesn't, it sounds like Sam might need it,' he laughed.

‘Oh very funny, go away!' I laughed at him and threw one of Sam's gloves in his direction, which he ducked easily and took himself and my coffee off to the kitchen again in search of alcoholic support.

I stood staring up the stairs for a moment, one kid down in an alcoholic stupor, one so angry he's almost incomprehensible, looked like it was going to be a good weekend. Well, at least next weekend should be good, I had got over the first hurdle of getting Geoff to agree to my plan for the weekend. (I have to admit it was a very small hurdle, he was always up for wandering around boats in the sunshine), now all I had to hope for was some sunshine, some people we knew and a whole dollop of nostalgia and the kids would be begging to get back to our old life. I rubbed my hands together – I love it when a plan comes together.

Once Charlie had sobered up and Sam had calmed down, Geoff and I managed to get them together for a ‘chat' on Saturday morning. Charlie was still suffering a slight headache and nausea, this was probably due to the fifteen-minute, very informative, phone lecture that Helen had given her on the dangers of alcohol on an immature liver. We questioned her about her motives and she just said that it had been a stupid idea and she wasn't going to do it again. So we banned her from a party that she was supposed to be attending in a couple of week's time and dropped the subject, we were all very relieved.

Sam however was still ranting, for twenty minutes he gave us an angry monologue as to why his life was almost unbearable, this ranged from hating school, to having a friend that couldn't share and didn't know how to play computer games properly and finally ended on his biggest whinge that Charlie had her rats and he wanted a pet and the pet he wanted was a hamster. He wanted a hamster and he wanted it NOW. As far as he could see, Charlie managed to get everything she wanted and he got nothing.

Of course his accusations were wildly exaggerated. However, it was actually so nice to see him enthusiastic about something other than a computer game that we gathered ourselves together to make the trip to the local pet shop.

When we arrived at ‘Pet World', Geoff and I wandered through the cacophony of birds, bunnies and dog lovers, heading in the wake of Chaos and Disorder as they cut a well-known path towards the rodent area.

‘Look, Mum,' Charlie shouted as we approached ‘They have black male rats.' She paused and looked at Geoff's expression. ‘I've got my own money, couldn't I …'

‘No!' Geoff and I spoke together, ‘Not today, this is Sam's day to get a pet.'

Charlie sulked. ‘But he's only getting a stupid hamster, it's not very interesting is it.' She gave us an innocent smile. ‘Anyway, I don't think they've got any, we can't find them.'

I spotted Sam, with an ever-increasing look of consternation on his face, peering into each cage in turn, then grabbed the nearest assistant.

‘Hi.' I smiled encouragingly in a way that was supposed to say the answer to the next question I am about to ask you is ‘yes', please say ‘yes' or my life is about to become unbearable. ‘Do you have any hamsters?'

‘Yes.' The young lady looked up and down the rows. ‘We do have one,' she paused and frowned, ‘but I'm really not sure it's a suitable pet.'

At that point Sam found his hamster. ‘Mum, MUM! DAD! I've found them here they are, come here quick … Awww isn't he sweet!'

The young assistant gave a small shudder, and I gave her an enquiring look. ‘We only have the one left as I said.' She began walking to the cages speaking over her shoulder, ‘This one is a girl,' she searched for a word that would convey the personality of said rodent without sending us screaming out of the door, ‘She's a little feisty.'

Charlie became immediately interested and sauntered over to the cage where she bent down and peered at the little animal hanging from the bars of the cage. Laughing, she poked her finger toward it then recoiled quickly as it threw itself toward her, screaming loudly, the little creature's long yellow teeth tearing rabidly at the bars.

‘I didn't even realise hamsters could make a noise.' I stared at the swearing animal. ‘Wow, she's vocal isn't she?'

Realising that there was now a group of humans staring at her, the enraged little powder-puff became even more agitated and, grabbing onto the bars of the cage again, stuck her nose through the bars and started another series of strange little noises which ranged from a muffled squeak to a sort of nasal honking. Every two or three noises she would stop and stare balefully at us to see if they had had the desired effect and we had all scarpered. When she saw that we were still there she would start again, opening her little pink mouth and issuing her series of screams and vitriol. I shook my head. I had never seen a white-knuckled hamster before.

The assistant shuddered. ‘How about a nice rabbit?'

‘No!' Sam shouted and grabbed my hand. ‘She just doesn't like it here, and look she's got different-coloured eyes.' He stared fondly down at the incensed little creature. ‘She's just perfect.'

Charlie and I dared to step a little closer and sure enough when she stopped screaming she unscrunched her face to reveal one black eye and one bright red eye.

‘Urgh!' Charlie winced. ‘Demon hamster. I don't think you want this one Sam.'

‘Yes I do,' Sam stated categorically and stretched his hand out toward the cage. ‘I'm going to call her Lu.' Seeing the hand approach, ‘Lu' took to screaming louder and throwing herself at the bars of the cage, enraged beyond all sanity.

‘Yeah,' Charlie muttered, ‘its short for Lucifer.'

Geoff nodded in agreement.

Sam smiled up at us as he quickly pulled his hand back to a safe distance. ‘That's the pet for me,' he stated.

I thought the assistant was going to cry.

It took five minutes to get ‘Lu' into a carry case. The assistant, who was obviously very unhappy at putting her hand into the cage had finally poked her in with a pencil. Well actually, she had put the pencil into the cage and when the infuriated creature had attacked it she had manoeuvred her, teeth still embedded into wood, into the box and quickly shut the lid on both psychotic rodent and annihilated pencil with a relieved sigh.

We spent another fifteen minutes collecting all the accompanying gubbins that a hamster needs. As it was Sam's pet he was allowed to choose her cage, toys and food. While he was puzzling over this huge decision I held the box for him. I could feel the still furious little furball throwing herself at the side, her ear-piercing squeaks only slightly muffled by the box.

‘When we get this thing home,' I muttered out of the side of my mouth to Geoff,' I don't think it's ever coming out of its cage again. I think it might be rabid.' I paused for a moment remembering my last encounter with an angry animal. ‘Or part sheep.'

Geoff nodded. ‘Maybe we can donate it to Kevin for herding cows, his dog's getting a bit ancient.'

I laughed as that mental image assailed me and had to stop and look innocent as Sam whipped round with a frown.

‘Are you laughing at my hamster?' he accused.

‘No, no,' Geoff said and, quicker than me, grabbed a particularly badly designed dog toy off the shelf. It stood about twelve inches high and was a rubber cat in a black mask, thigh boots, suspenders and a whip. ‘We were laughing at this.'

Charlie took it from him. ‘Oh my God,' she said, laughing, ‘what type of weirdo gives their dog a dominatrix cat toy to play with.' She put it back on the shelf. We were safe. Sam, his hamster's integrity intact, turned back to his cages.

Fifteen minutes later, bored and tetchy, we were still there. A young man, a woman and their large, overweight Staffordshire bull terrier came and stood beside us.

‘Ahah! There it is,' he shouted and grabbed the cat we had just been laughing at.

I took a closer look, he had on a tracksuit and a cap, the woman with him had, as usual, summer clothes that were two sizes to small and created overhangs of flesh that were still slightly mottled from the biting wind outside. The dog was very overweight, and wore its studded breast band and collar with a slightly embarrassed look. It was also permanently passing wind, the smell was just unbelievable. Sam began to make loud retching noises until I poked him between the shoulder blades.