The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2745 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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Henry called back after dinner, not that I was very hungry and even Danielle only ate half as much as usual. I explained the situation and he asked if I’d spoken to Jason. I said I’d left a message for him.

“He’s been involved in some pretty big case, but I’m sure he’ll help as soon as he can.”

“It’s really dragging Danielle down, she’s supposed to go to training tomorrow, you can bet your bottom dollar the place will be staked out or have hidden cameras.”

“You could always go public?”

“This is a child we’re talking about, what happened to the laws of protection of minors from such disclosure?”

“It was just a thought.”

“Well here’s another, if I find out who blew the whistle, I’m going to take steps to shorten their life to seconds.”

“What about those who buy such papers, aren’t they as bad?”

“Worse, they sit on their spotty behinds playing with themselves while reading the guff they put in tabloids.”

“It makes them feel superior.”

“Superior? As in lakes, or just festering cess pits.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me—why do people have to be so horrible all the time?” I was so close to tears, Danni was right, we’ve done nothing wrong but are treated like criminals.

“It seems to be a requirement of being human, alongside, greed, lust, bigotry and general nastiness.”

“And there was me thinking it was just me...”

He chuckled, “Just you, my darling girl. You’re practically angelic by even the lowest standards of such measurements.”

“You flatter me kind sir.”

“No, I make an exception for you, favourite daughter in law.”

“You have others?”

“Hush, let it be our guilty secret.”

“What about Danni?”

“It so happens I’m at the House tomorrow.”

“So how will that help?”

“I’ll speak to someone in the Home Office or Justice Department.”

“What from home?”

“No, you silly goose, the House of Lords.”

“Ah, that house?”

“Yes, where else could I mean?”

“Seeing as you have half a dozen homes, anyone of them.”

“Okay, point taken. I’ll see if I can get the newspaper in question a little visit from a senior civil servant asking awkward questions about safeguarding children, or that sort of thing, usually works a treat. They suddenly remember they have consciences then go and get them removed the next week.”

“What do I need to do in the interim?”

“Be your wonderful self and hang in there, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, Henry, you’re such a comfort.”

“Oh, my heart is going pitter patter.”

“I thought it had stopped when they swapped it for a stone one?”

“Hush, don’t tell everyone.”

“Good bye father in law and thank you.”

“Ditch the dumplin’ and...”

“Bye, Henry...” I put the phone back on its cradle.

Simon was sitting with Danielle on his lap, she appeared to be fast asleep with her head resting on his broad shoulder. I made a T sign with my hands and he gave me a thumbs up sign in return. I went off to make the life saving beverages.

We sipped our teas, Danielle still sleeping on his lap and oblivious to our activity. “Why me?” he mimed at me.

“Because we feel safe in your arms.”

“Oh—oh okay,” he shrugged and the movement woke her up.

She yawned and went to snuggled down onto his capacious chest and tummy. “Why don’t you go up to bed, sweetheart?” I said taking hold of her arm and gently easing her up.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” she mumbled and swayed as she stood up.

“Say night night to Daddy.”

“Night, Daddy,” she said in almost a trance.

“Night, poppet,” he said back gently.

“C’mon, darling, up to bed,” I led her up the stairs, watched while she cleaned her teeth, had a wee and crawled into bed. I tucked her in and kissed her goodnight.

“Night, Mummy, love you,” she said almost drifting back to sleep.

“I love you too, sweetheart, sleep well.” I watched her for a few minutes as she slipped into the realms of sleep. I made her a silent promise to help her as much as I could, then slipped back down to Simon who was snoozing on the sofa. “She’s gone off to sleep,” I said louder than I needed to.

“What?” he sat up collected whatever wits he could find and looked at me. “What?”

“Danielle, I just took her up to bed if you remember?”

“Yeah, so?”

“She went straight off to sleep.”

“Oh good, think I’m gonna call it a day as well, babes. You coming up?”

“Just want to check my emails in case Jason has sent us one.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m bushed,” he said walking to the stairs and disappearing up them as I went to my study.

I checked my emails, there was nothing that wouldn’t wait a day or two. I also checked some websites to see if anything was in the wings, seemed there was nothing. I sent an email to the senior coach at the football club asking for an urgent meeting with him. Astonishingly, I got one back suggesting he thought he knew what it might be about and could I do ten, tomorrow. I wrote back confirming it. I would move on up the scale as I could, speaking to the England coaches after talking with him and hopefully getting his advice. This can’t be a unique event, if the figures being suggested of numbers of transgender children were even half correct, there must be thousands who play sport as the opposite biological gender.

Having done all that I went to bed not expecting to sleep very well but exhaustion played its part and I zonked quite quickly, waking at seven to discover Danielle curled up alongside me.

“Hello, sweetheart,” I said as I sensed her waking.

“Hi, Mummy, Dad suggested I come and keep you company after he went to work.”

“That was nice of you?”

“Yeah,” she yawned, “That’s me.”

“So modest with it, as well.”

“What me? Nah, if you’ve got it flaunt it.”

“Quite.”

“What am I going to do, Mummy,” she said sniffing back the tears.

“You are staying home today, I’ll get the school to email you some work.”

“Aw thanks,” she grumbled.

“While you’re doing it I’m going to see the chief coach of your football team.”

“Oh, what for?”

“What d’you think it’s about?”

“Thanks, Mummy.”