The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2297 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“I hear ye met Hilary?” said Tom after his chicken curry.

“Yes.”

“Ye dinna sound too imprest.”

“No.”

“Och, can ye answer in polysyllables?”

“Per-haps.”

He gave me a scowl and continued, “She thinks she might hae been a wee bit indiscreet.”

“Just a wee bit.”

“Aye, she didnae ken who ye were.”

“Doesn’t it behove you to find out a little more before you start slinging mud at people?”

“Aye, she kens that noo.”

“I wonder how many graduates qualified last year and you chose her?”

“Aye, dinnae rub it in. She had a guid degree and some experience o’ being a technician at a school in Salford.”

“Oh well that’s all right then—that she twice made comments about me as a rich bitch and Lady Muck, who only had to spread her legs to get anything she wanted, seems to have been forgotten.”

“Ah no, they hav’nae, an’she’ll apologise tae ye when she next sees ye.”

“So that makes it all right, does it?”

“Cathy, she’s a only a kid.”

“She’s about twenty four and should know better.”

“She’s sincerely sorry.”

“One more slip and I make a complaint.”

“Aye, fair enough.”

I walked away from our discussion but felt I’d been short changed. I don’t look for trouble—it always seems to pop up alongside me—but neither will I walk away. If it happens again, I’ll have her guts for garters.

The rest of the evening was taken up with sorting out the girls—I do miss there not being a boy amongst them—bed time here is like St Trinians. Then it seemed it was our bed time too. How time flies when you’re enjoying yourself, or not as the case may be.

“What was Tom on about?”

“Oh the new lab technician.”

“It’s a woman?”

“Yeah, Hilary.”

“Isn’t that a term at Oxford?”

“Yep, the spring one, applies to the law as well, some court or other.”

“How d’you know that?”

“Came up in a crossword I expect.”

“You and your crosswords.”

“Yes, but you can deny me nothing, can you?”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Is it, Hilary said I only had to open my legs...”

“What, to get on your bike?”

“Ah no, I think she implied I was the bike.”

“Can you run that past me again?”

“She called me a rich bitch.”

“What to your face—that’s a dangerous thing to say.”

“Especially if you don’t know to who you’re talking.”

“Quite.”

“I left before I thumped her.”

“Sounded like a good idea. Now as to this opening your legs to get anything you want—is there anything you might have in mind at the moment?”

“A good night’s sleep?”

“You’ll sleep well afterwards—least I usually do.”

“Simon, you have been known to fall asleep before you finished.”

“That’s a dreadful calumny, who’d say such a thing?”

“Simon, I’m your wife, remember? I was there.”

“Phew, for a moment, I thought it was someone else.”

“Like who?”

“Um—are we going to do it or practise character assassination?”

“Ooh, the latter sounds interesting...”

“Bloody women.” He turned over away from me, “An’ you can stop laughing too.”

“Moi?” I said with feigned innocence.

“I can feel the bed moving.”

Seeing as men don’t usually admit to feeling anything except hungry or randy, that had to be a first. Needless to say we slept back to back at least for the first part of the night. He was gone before I awoke when the alarm went off at seven. Then it was full steam ahead to get ten zillion girls ready for work or school. At times I think we could do with ten bathrooms.

The weather had become so mild I ventured out in a skirt with bare legs forgetting entirely the remark Hilary made about the dormouse film and my pins. “You’ve got amazing legs.” I heard her voice from behind me. “Look, I’m sorry for talking out of line yesterday.”

“I accept your apology but one more word of that sort and I will complain.”

“Okay, I suppose I deserve that.”

“You need to watch where you’re making statements about people’s bits, too. They might get the wrong idea.”

“Oh?”

“They might consider you’re making a pass at them.”

“What if I was?”

I blushed. It hadn’t occurred to me that Hilary could be gay. I don’t think about people’s sexuality unless they give me reasons to do so.

“I hope you’re joking?”

“Does it matter?”

“As your line manager, it could.”

“You’re my boss?”

“I manage the laboratories.”

“Oh, I didn’t like know.”

“Didn’t they tell you who your line manager was?”

“Probably, but you were just a name.”

Yeah, one who wasn’t available when they interviewed or you might not have got the job.

I checked her log of the dormouse area and she seemed to be able to follow directions.

“Who’s the cute little fellah in the poster?”

“That is Spike, she’s the oldest dormouse here and still was having litters last year.”

“A sort of litter bug, then?” she joked.

I wasn’t in the mood for her sort of humour but I smiled and nodded. I gave her a list of things to do for the morning session, which was in the lab and unusually I was teaching.

I think I’ve mentioned that I was quite good at preparing slides of specimens. It seems the university wants someone to teach that as a skill for their biology students. As Tom has no one else to do it, I’ve agreed to run three workshops on it with an hour’s talk and three of practicals. It wasn’t exactly my choice but needs must and all that. I left her to set up the lab and get the microscopes ready to issue. I made my way to my office and after locking the door got my notes out and then checked how up to date they were. It’s amazing how much you can forget if you don’t do something for some time. Normally I’d assume some level of competence but seeing as they aren’t necessarily Biology A-level students, they might not have done it before, at all.

I checked the presentation I’d done to St Claire’s last year for the A-level students there. I had a power-point presentation which covered much of it. I thought I’d use it again. That being solved I went home and missed Tom’s invitation to lunch. I made do with a tuna jacket potato and salad. David was off today and I had to ask Jacquie to make lunch—or at least put the spuds in an hour before we were going to eat them. They tasted fine and I credited her with the lunch.

I spent a further hour on my presentation for the class tomorrow and thought I pretty well had it sorted. I decided I’d wear trousers—some leather ones Simon got me in London—then changed my mind as the forecast was for a warmish day again. Leather gets rather warm if I remember correctly. Also, if I got some of the stains on them, they’d be ruined, so I’d be in jeans like everyone else.