The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2572 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

---

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.
@@@@@
My biggest worry was that Danni would have some sort of injury which would prevent her getting her selection for England, well worry for the next couple of hours. Thankfully she didn’t get hurt and she scored two more goals. She was a class above the rest, then it started to come out that she was an England schoolgirl international. Talk about jumping the gun, I half expected requests for her autograph.

Trish featured in the second game and despite her trying to equal her older sister, she only scored once, but did set up the St Claire’s second goal by running interference.

I took them home and went off to see the Vice Chancellor, who it was said was worsening and was now in a hospice. I’d meant to go beforehand but life had caused me to be distracted and thus forgot. On my way into the hospice my mobile rang. It was Sammi to say that James had gone home despite Stella telling him it wasn’t a good idea. I wanted a chat with him to see what he’d been working on, but had waited for his head to clear—seems he had other priorities.

I asked Sammi to let David know I’d be home in an hour, she said she would. As our resident computer whiz, I wanted to talk to her about Jim’s ramblings about facebook as she could run searches and things far quicker than I could.

“Can I help you?” asked a young woman on reception at the hospice.

“Yes, I’ve come to see Mr Gasgoine.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You can’t see him.”

“Why not?” This was not my day.

“I’m afraid he’s no longer here.”

“Oh, is he feeling better then?”

“Hardly.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“He died in the early hours of this morning.”

“Oh dear, thanks anyway.” I turned and walked briskly back to my car. The day wasn’t getting any better. We were now without a vice chancellor at the university, just wonderful. I shall sort out the council only to hand over to a complete stranger. Oh boy, it seems the futility in life is becoming its major feature.

I filled the tank at the nearest supermarket and went home. I told Daddy what I’d learned about our erstwhile Vice Chancellor. He shook his head and said he’d try and discover when the funeral was. David was busy making some sort of pasta dish for lunch and Danielle and Trish were talking football in the lounge.

Meems was helping Jacquie with the little ones, and Livvie was reading War and Peace. Feeling somewhat inadequate I left her to it, I still hadn’t read it—life was too busy and too short to waste—in reality, I was too busy to commit time to reading for pleasure, if I did, I had two or three Brunetti mysteries which would take precedence over Tolstoy’s classic. I know a pot of yoghurt has more culture than I do.

I went looking for Sammi, she’d gone out to meet a friend for lunch. Thinking I’d ask Trish to look at facebook for me, I returned to the lounge and neither Danni nor Trish were to be seen. Just great, I was beginning to think that someone up there no longer liked me—hah—understatement of the millennium. If there was someone up there we’d feel mutual contempt and loathing for each other, but there isn’t so I’ll save my energy.

I made Stella, David and myself, a cuppa. Simon was out doing goodness knows what and he had Cate with him. I double checked that snippet of information, I thought I’d heard that Simon had gone out with Cate. It turned out I wasn’t having auditory hallucinations, he had taken her with him. I simply wondered why.

My intention was to sit and drink my tea while doing some work on the survey. It didn’t happen—no I didn’t fall asleep. I’d just sat at my desk when the phone rang. I answered it. It was James.

“You could have waited until I got home before you dashed off.”

“Sorry, needed to do a few things.”

“And have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Done a few things.”

“Yeah.”

“So glad.”

“So am I.”

“That it then?” I asked.

“No, I was trying to remember what I was doing before I came to your place.”

“Apart from bleeding?”

“Yeah—no, jeez, Cathy, you confuse me.”

“I do it to students as well and they pay me for it.”

“I hope you’re joking.”

“Yes. So what were you doing?”

“Trying to find out who was employing Bernard Black.”

“Besides a certain university?”

“Exactly that.”

“And did you?”

“I think so—can’t quite remember.”

“You were rather poorly.”

“So I gather. Normally I keep a log of everything I do workwise—it helps sometimes when I feel I’ve overlooked something.”

“Good idea, I do the same with fieldwork for the same reasons, though it might ultimately end up with someone analysing my notes and discovering I got it all wrong.”

“Yeah, well in my case it could be the cops analysing mine while I wait down the mortuary.”

“You seem to have caught my futility bug.”

“Nah, but my notes aren’t much help either—can’t understand them, though I’m sure I did when I made them.”

“You kept on about facebook in your delirium.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, you were the one who was crazy, not me.”

“Facebook? What was all that about?”

“I was hoping you’d know as I’ve never had anything to do with it.”

“Not even for the university?”

“No, one of our technicians does it for us.”

“Wasn’t the dead guy one of your technicians?”

“The late Mr Black?—Yes he was.”

“There’s something in the back of my mind but I just can’t get it to focus. If I do, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay—oh we can take Gasgoine off our list, he died this morning.”

“Who’s he?”

“Jim, concentrate. He was our vice chancellor.”

“Wasn’t he a bit in the black market and other shady things.”

“So it was alleged.”

“Relax, Cathy, dead men don’t sue.”

“They tell no tales either.”

“You think it was a hit?”

“I’m keeping an open mind.”