The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2296 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Julie was in a ‘woe is me’ mood and I wasn’t going to indulge her any longer. “Oh god, that is sick,” said Jacquie looking at Trish’s computer.

“What is?” I asked on behalf of the rest of us.

“Some woman microwaved her kitten.”

“That is extremely cruel.” Was my opinion and everyone agreed. As if to add her two penneth, Bramble appeared and started squeaking for her dinner—she’d been out when I’d called her earlier.

“You wouldn’t be able to microwave her,” said Julie, “She’s too fat to go in the machine.”

“Oh and some bloke had his penis cut off in Middlesborough,” Jacquie read some more.

Danni blushed at this announcement so I decided to change the subject. “Anyone have sport tomorrow? Will you need to sort your kit out now?” Trish and Livvie went off to check their timetables.

Si texted to say the attack was over for the moment and that Sammi had worked like a Trojan to help protect the bank. I was pleased for both of them. I told Trish when she returned and she was pleased too. “Maybe I’ll become a hacker?” she mused. I always thought she was, albeit on an occasional basis.

“Is that what the guy in Middlesborough met—a hacker?” asked Jacquie and Trish then had to be apprized of the story as she saw it on the BBC website.

“Um—I don’t think I’d be that sort of hacker?” blushed Trish looking towards Danni who shook her head. As both had suffered unofficial surgery, the story was a bit uncomfortable for both of them.

“Who’s going to the breadmix for the morning?” I asked and Livvie won the race much to the other’s disgust. I have no idea why it’s such a prestige chore, but they squabble over it unless I watch out. As they all know what to do, I left her to it and put the kettle on for a cuppa.

Bed that night felt a bit lonely without the human hot-water bottle. However, I woke in the night to find Danielle tucked into the back of me. I turned over and went back to sleep but in the morning I asked what she was doing in my bed and she told me she thought I might be lonely or vulnerable. In forty years perhaps, but not quite yet.

I got her up as the alarm went off and for once she was first ready for her breakfast, arrayed in her blouse and skirt and cardigan. Julie did her hair for her as I got the others up. Then while they had breakfast, I fed tiny wee with Cate watching every second of the baby’s feed and begging me to pick her up and give her a drop. I relented while Danni made me a cuppa and slice of toast. The little monkey then snatched one of my pieces of toast and ran off giggling—Cate, that is not Danni.

After dropping the girls at school I called in at the university and was introduced to Hilary, Neal’s successor. It appeared as if Neal wasn’t going to recover in the near future and the university needed a technician desperately. I explained about the captive breeding programme and how we kept humidity and temperatures controlled to maximise the survival rate of the hibernating dormice.

It was then she spotted a poster of me holding the dormouse for the bank advertising campaign, I’d forgotten it was there. “Oh my god, the dormouse queen.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“You, Dr Watts, you’re the one who made the film.”

“I assumed that was common knowledge.”

“It might be down here, but not in Manchester where I did my degree.”

“In what?”

“Zoology.”

“Any species or group specialisation?” I asked hoping it wasn’t something like Meerkats.

“Big cats.”

“As in lions and tigers?”

“Mountain lions or cougars to be more precise.”

“A bit of a comedown to dormice then?”

“It’s a job, I have a student loan to pay off.”

“I understand,” I said without really doing so from experience as my dad paid off my loan, even though I’d spent most of it on a race bike.

“So who’s this rich bitch we have in the department?” She asked conspiratorially.

“I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Lady moneybags or something, her old man owns a bank or something.”

“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask Professor Agnew or his secretary.” I hoped I wasn’t blushing too red.

“Must be lovely having all that money at your disposal just for opening your legs occasionally.”

“I suspect she’d have to do a bit more than that.”

“Yeah, perhaps; though you’d think with all that dosh she’d stay home and run garden parties for sick squirrels or that sort of things.”

“Not sick dormice, then?”

“Nah, they’ve got you so they don’t need Lady Muck.”

“I’m glad you have such confidence in me.”

“I saw the film while I was in the States and apart from making me homesick, I wanted to murder you for having much nicer legs than I’ve got.”

“Remind me to keep them hidden if you’re around.”

“I didn’t mean it literally.”

I excused myself on the grounds that I had a baby to feed at home. “Who’s looking after him now then?” she asked, “Your husband.”

I laughed out loud, “Simon? You have got to be joking, he wouldn’t know one end of a nappy from the other. No the butler does it in the mornings and Nanny does it after wards. One has to maintain ones standards.” I left her with her mouth gaping as she probably identified who Lady Muck was.

So much for mountain lions, at least it showed that not everyone out tracking them had a gun.

David had made chicken soup for lunch and with the fresh bread that Livvie made last night, it was delicious. We were having chicken risotto for dinner—except a certain professor, who was having a chicken curry. Well he won’t have had one since lunchtime so will probably be in withdrawal—would cold turkey be too much of a pun?

There was enough dinner left over for Simon and Sammi to have some or for David to freeze the next day—they come in handy as snack meals when time is short or Simon comes home late and doesn’t need a big meal.

Si and Sam arrived just after Julie got home. Sammi was wearing a suit I didn’t recognise, so it appeared she’d been out to buy a new one. This was a dress and jacket—very fetching—in a Prince of Wales check. The dress had short sleeves and a button up front with vee neck, the jacket was a bum freezer, but the cut and feel of the material said it cost rather more than an outfit from Asda.

To my surprise, Danielle was very taken with it and asked Sammi lots of questions about it. But then, Danni is interested in clothes and makeup, it was just the ‘not on a permanent basis’ which produced the crisis we had.

As she almost drooled over Sammi’s outfit I suggested that if she wanted clothes like that she needed to be the best woman footballer in the country or get loads of A-levels and a good degree. She wasn’t as impressed about my advice as she was with the outfit.