The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3055 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 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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I awoke in the night and realised I was alone and why. I tried to justify my paper to the bank, Simon’s response to it and my response to him. It was reasonable, he’d let me down—so why was I crying?

A thousand reasons came to my mind and pre-eminent among those was simply that I could lose him. Despite our difference of opinion, I loved him very much and I owed him quite a lot too. Being with him helped me to build my self esteem—let’s face it, it couldn’t have got much lower without a mechanical digger. He encouraged me in all sorts of ways and he validated my femaleness by marrying me and agreeing to adopt all the waifs and strays that crossed my path effectively indulging my need for motherhood. He also funded all of this—I owed him so much.

I wasn’t sure I’d given him much in return apart from grief and the occasional use of my body when he felt amorous. Having felt justified in giving him the cold shoulder earlier, I now felt wretched. What if he went off and found someone else? Someone who was less bitchy and with whom he could have his own children?

Despite all the reassurances I received over the years, I had this persistent doubt that I was good enough because I wasn’t a proper woman and the anxiety that he’d one day dump me for one who was younger, prettier and could bear him children.

Looking at the clock, I saw it was ten past two. I switched on the light and sat up, then decided while I was awake I’d go for a wee. My blotchy, wet face was enough to put men off me forever and a day. I looked about as attractive as pile of wet newspaper and felt about as useful. Returning to bed I tried to read my book but despite my tiredness, which stopped me concentrating enough to read, I knew I wouldn’t sleep if I lay down again. I opted to go and make myself some tea.

Ten minutes later I held a very warm mug in my hands, almost enjoying the sense of burning in my palms from the heat of the boiled water. I had to let it go, I couldn’t cope with the pain and realised if I burnt my hands, work tomorrow would be even more difficult than it needed. Tiredness was going to be a major problem and I had three meetings to deal with. Then one more day to get through and then it was Saturday. Sunday would be a chance to catch up on chores at home and then the girls were all home for the week as it was half term. I’d be working mornings, so would Diane—it was the arrangement we had with the university. However, on one of those days I had to do my welcome speech to two or three hundred first years. They weren’t all biology or ecology students, or environmental science undergrads but included chemistry, physics and things like marine biology, microbiology and bio-chemistry. Even the department of genetics had come under my brief in my super department or faculty of sciences. There was talk of setting up a geology department next year or the year after—I’d wait and see. I also felt my faculty was so big now that I’d have even less control over it and the individual departments would probably try to make that less given half a chance.

I could see what Tom was doing in creating super faculties run by people he trusted in stream lining managerial staff, which is mostly what professors are. It also meant we could rationalise things like clerical support and even the number of technicians we had—though I wanted to try and retain as many of both as I could. Two of my meetings were with first clerical support staff and then the lab technicians to say I was doing all I could to maintain staffing levels and I hoped they appreciated my efforts. I wasn’t going to make them reapply for their old jobs or anything like that, but I did want increased efficiency and I’d ask them how we could make things more efficient for the same money, not necessarily how we could save money, though after Brexit, the future was more uncertain. If the US electorate is a daft as the UK, then President Trump may cause us further difficulties, but we’d react to those as and when.

While I delighted in the idea of a woman president over the pond, the more I hear about both contenders make me feel concern, though dear Donald has the edge in fantasy and horror. He also says one thing one day and the exact opposite the next hour. He might have celebrity from his television work but he’s no actor and he’s certainly no policymaker. So how had he got this far?

I returned to more local issues, Simon—what did I do about him? I wished we could have resolved the issues between us before I left London, but neither of us seemed to want that. Instead we went for confrontation and he lost, but only because I pulled the guilt trick. I wondered what he was thinking—he was probably fast asleep, psychopaths and bankers aren’t troubled by consciences most of the time.

He even suggested at one point I was his conscience. I thought back to him saying it and felt the salt water leak down my cheeks again. What was I to do? My thoughts were interrupted by some footsteps behind me.

“Whit are ye daein’ up at this ‘oor?”

“I couldn’t sleep so came to have a cuppa. Want one?”

“Aye, I’ll mak’ it mesel’”. I heard him switch on the kettle and reach for a china mug. A few minutes later he sat opposite me and after looking at me said, “Hae ye been keenin’?”

“Just a bit, miss my bed warmer.”

“I hear ye’d haed a disagreement.”

“Yeah, he wants to do the best for the bank and I want to save the planet.”

“Aye, sae I heard, Amazonian dams wisnae it?”

“Yes. After the Olympics the Brazilians need to borrow money to complete some more of their dams. I tried to point out that it was both unnecessary and environmentally disastrous. He wanted to loan them money because they’d pay a good rate of interest.”

“Can’t he see once something is extinct, it’s gang f’ever?”

“What’s a few thousand species compared to millions of pounds in interest?”

“I cannae believe he really feels that, is he no jest daein’ his job?”

“No idea, but I as good as told him he’d betrayed me.”

“Aye, I can see whaur ye’re coming frae.”

“And now all I want to do is tell him I love him and ask him to hold me.” I burst into tears and Tom pulled me over to sit on his lap while he held me until I stopped crying. I thanked him, stood up and went back to bed and slept like a log.