The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2753 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 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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Three of them giggled and Trish was obviously the butt of the joke. “Okay, what’s so funny?” I demanded from the front seat.

“Twishy, she feww asweep in cwass.”

“Is this true, Trish?” I asked the cerebral one.

She blushed, “Yeah, but it was only for a couple of minutes and I had finished the exercise.”

“Exercise?” I tend to associate this with lycra and getting all sweaty.

“It was an algebra problem.”

“I thought you did special maths?” I pay enough for it.

“Yeah but the teacher was off sick so I had to sit in on an ordinary lesson—it was so borin’. I did all this like a year ago.”

“And you nodded off?”

She blushed again, “Yeah, I s’pose.”

“Was your answer to the problem correct?”

“Course it was, the teacher made me go an’ do it on the board and show everyone my workings out.”

“Why?”

She went a lovely fuscia again, “I did it in my head an’ jus’ wrote down the answer.”

“Could you show them how to do it?”

“Mummy, I’m ten you know, of course I could but it’s so bloody tedious.”

“Hoy, less of the swearing please, it’s unbecoming in a young lady.”

“Well, she got on my tits,” Trish blushed then laughed with the others.

“Enough of that sort of language if you don’t mind.”

Back at the house, Danielle was yawning almost as much as Trish. I said quietly to her, “Much as the school enjoys having an England cap amongst its pupils, I don’t know how long they’ll tolerate having a tired teenager every Monday morning.”

“We were doing all right ‘till we got held up on the M25. That was chronic.”

“Just be aware and be sure to keep your work up to date.”

“Muuuum, I am up to date with my homework.”

“Okay, that’s all I wanted to know.”

She scuttled off to change and do whatever homework she had accumulated during the day. By this time Trish was back down and yawning still. “Early night for you, Missy.”

“Yeah, okay.”

I thought one would be in order for me as well. I know I’m not thirty two yet but I can’t cope with late nights or disturbed ones like I used to. Must be getting old.

“Was it worth it?” asked Si when he got home and I practically yawned in his face.

“Yeah, I think so—won’t happen for another eighteen years and who knows where any of us will be by that time.”

“Well I saw the tail end when I left for work, didn’t look that special to me.”

“Philistine,” I accused.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, it was the solar system putting on a show for us and you weren’t impressed?”

“Nah, bloody amateurs.” He snorted at his own joke and went off to shower and change. We rarely talk about the bank unless something is worrying him and he needs to share it or they want me to do something.

On his return, he reminded me of a directors meeting the following week. I’d forgotten. He suggested I do a report on Billie’s Study Centre as the building was finished and Dan was slowly equipping it. Took him two weeks to get the phones connected and a photocopier sorted. The computer system was being installed this week so I expected an email at some point. He was doing a sterling job but single handed was hard work. I told him to get some clerical support, someone who could act as receptionist, secretary and general dogsbody.

He was very pleased with that idea. I gave details to Diane and asked her to send them on to him in more coherent form. I reminded him I’d require support if I was working there—I was after all the director, he was the manager. He told me he hadn’t forgotten I was still the boss and could work from there on occasions. He also reminded me that it wasn’t him who had several million hits of a dormouse diving into his cleavage on Youtube. So? Spike was obviously a creature of great taste.

Monday turned into Tuesday and I’d recovered, more or less, from my star gazing. It was just as well, because I had a series of tedious meetings with the university administration about staffing levels. We were short of a lecturer in microbiology and despite two adverts in the leading journals, we had no takers. I asked to see the adverts and wasn’t surprised, they were standard fare stuff and totally boring.

We’re a relatively small university compared to Southampton or Sussex. We have a growing reputation but I suspect the better qualified and connected teachers go to the bigger universities for what they think is either better research grants or pay. I called Diane into my office showed her the advert and asked her what she thought.

“It’s a bit boring, Professor.”

“Can you liven it up a little and bring it back before the end of the meeting?”

“Wow—okay, I’ll give it a try.” She went off with her tail held high and I suspect relishing the challenge—which I thought she was more than capable of meeting. She returned half an hour later and had retyped it selling the area and the dynamic department of biological sciences and their celebrity professor.

I objected to that but the rest enjoyed it, perhaps because it took me down a peg or two. Because I’d made two films and been on television and radio talking about things ecological, such as badger culling. Anyway, she was asked to continue improving her design during the rest of the day as necessary and to circulate as necessary before the end of the day—it was a great improvement on the original even if we didn’t use it all. It was finally sent off to personnel just about tea time.

I was home by this time having collected my girls from school. I liked the final form of the design and told everyone so by a blanket email. At least something good had happened.