The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2749 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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The fog didn’t arrive, for which I was grateful. But as I dropped the girls at school Trish asked, “There’s a total eclipse of the moon on Sunday night—can we watch it?”

“What time is it?”

“I dunno, sometime after dark, I s’pose.”

“I’m not saying yes until I know what time it is, I’m not letting you stay up half the night.”

“But it won’t happen for another thirteen years, it’s a super moon or something.”

“Da da da dad a, dad a da,” sang Danielle with one fist raised to the heavens.

“I said super moon, not Superman, stupid.” Trish got quite ratty with her elder sister, especially when the others laughed. “So can I?”

“I told you, it depends upon the time it happens. Last time I saw one, it took a couple of hours—you’re not staying up all night, that’s for sure.”

“But, Mummy, it’s a scientific event and I’ll learn loads from it.”

Arguably she knew too much now. If it wasn’t too late, I might let her watch part of it. “We’ll see, now if you keep on about it, I’ll say no for certain.”

“Oh all right, keep your ’air on.” Sometimes this child walks a very fine line and will push her boundaries too far one day and I’ll be obliged to walk all over her, which will please no one but might teach her there are limits as to what I will accept of her behaviour.

I went off to my office and dealt with a mountain of paperwork. “Did the press leave your girl alone afterwards?”

“Seems like.”

“She’s a talented soccer player?”

“Yes.”

“And she’s like you?”

“Nope, I couldn’t kick a ball to save my life.”

“I meant transgender.”

“Both of us have female birth certificates.”

Her face fell for a moment before she responded, “Now—you mean.”

“You know my history, why don’t we stop the games, Diane?”

“Fine, the fact that she’s a precocious talent wouldn’t stop you letting her talk to the press, because that’s what parents do today. That she used to be a boy and is a precocious girl soccer player, would.”

“Give the lady a coconut,” I said sarcastically, “Can we get back to matters academic now?”

“Professor, I’m not prying...”

“Aren’t you?”

“Look, I remember you from school hanging round with Siân Griffiths and you were living as boy then, at least some of the time. How you are now is obviously how you were meant to be and I have no problem working with you, in fact I admire you for having the courage to do it—don’t know if I could. That you have a daughter who’s the same is no surprise, who better to know how to cope with the problems it throws up but someone who’s gone through the same.”

I wasn’t sure how to deal with this, part of me felt indignation—what right have you to make judgements about me? Part of me felt relief, it was now out in the open. Was it going to affect the relationship? Possibly.

It shouldn’t surprise me, she’s not stupid and there’s plenty of information about me on the net if you look in the right places. Don’t think there’s anything about any of the children, so she’s guessing. However, it’s not exactly rocket science.

At least Danni doesn’t expect me to go and watch her matches anymore because Sunday clashes with the men’s world road race championship. We won’t win it not without the likes of Cavendish and Froome who are injured. Tomorrow is the rugger between England and Wales, so Tom and Si and probably Danni will be watching that—it’s tomorrow night I think. I’ll probably be doing the ironing or other chores. I’ll ask to watch the cycling on Sunday—could always watch it on my computer I suppose, except the television has a better picture and it’s bigger.

I wonder how Armitstead will do in the women’s race tomorrow? Sadly I won’t have the time to watch it, too many family demands upon me—none of which I regret, after all, I brought it all upon myself and love every moment. I don’t know if I’d have chosen to become a professor but to have become a wife and mother was the greatest ambition I could have ever aimed for.

I told Danielle I’d try and get to the odd home game for her, which I honestly will try and do. Soccer in general doesn’t interest me very much and women’s even less than the men’s game. That I have two girls who are quite good at it means I’ll go to watch them when I can afford the time, but it won’t be a priority unless the games are special. I mean a cup match for the school teams or Danielle playing for England is special and I’ll be shouting as loud as anyone—but for my children to do well.

Some would suggest I’m very selfish wanting a family and a demanding job. I won’t disagree as I feel both are important to me and to others and both are of a nurturing sort, raising and guiding my children and educating young minds while attempting to protect vulnerable wild life.

I was deep into my reverie when the phone rang and jolted me out of it. “Yes, Diane?”

“Dr Helen Maddison from Natural England is on the phone, Professor.”

“Okay, put her through.”

“Cathy?”

“Hello Helen.” What I meant was, what d’you want as she only calls when she wants something.

“Could you or one of your faculty do a dormouse survey for us as a matter of urgency?”

“Where is it?”

“Near Petersfield.”

“Developer wanting to build houses?”

“No actually, someone who wants to clear fell for a solar farm.”

“They want to clear a woodland to stick up solar panels?”

“So it would seem.”

“And dormice are the best way to stop him?”

“I couldn’t possibly comment.”

“Give me exact coordinates and I’ll try and get someone out this weekend.” I wondered what Graham was doing, though he’d been avoiding me ever since I told him the facts of life. She gave me a grid reference and GPS coordinates.

After talking to her I asked Diane to see if Graham was available to do a survey that weekend and I passed on the details. At three o’clock just as I was about to leave she informed me that Graham wasn’t answering his mobile and didn’t appear to be on campus—just what I needed. If David asks for the weekend off, I’m doing a runner myself.