“This gets more like a bloody zoo every week, one run by nutters.” Neal walked out of the laboratory in disgust. He always protested about the slightest change, yet he always took it on board and adapted. He was our top technician since Dan had left. He’d gone to Southampton, our great rivals a little further west along the coast. It was a bigger university who could pay more wages, end of story.

I called Neal back, he came in grumbling just as he’d gone out. “I’m going to be leaving the uni for a while, I’ve been seconded to a special project…”

“Your dormouse film, I s’pose.”

“Yes, except the ministry have got involved and practically insisted I make it and quickly. They’re paying for a replacement until I finish it. Tom has insisted I keep contact to supervise the dormouse project.”

“I can see why they want you to do the film.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, a nice bit of crumpet will boost the viewing figures, especially if you wear a short skirt and scoop necked top.”

“Neal, I’m a serious scientist, not a bit of crumpet. This is a serious film not pole dancing.”

“Pity, I’ll bet you’d be good at that.”

“Neal, how dare you?”

“Ha ha,” he laughed, “works every time, you ought to know me by now, Cathy. I respect you as one of the nicest women I know, and also one of the best field scientist here–the rest are pants, ‘cept the kids you’ve trained.”

“Aww Neal, you say the nicest things, for an oversexed, male chauvinist pig.” His face fell for a moment, then he began to laugh and I laughed too. I was going to miss him.

I did a few chores to finish the afternoon and drove home like crazy to get in a quick bike ride. I hammered the poor beast for an hour, coming home exhausted with sweat dripping off my face. I’d reduced my stress levels but I was far from happy.

I showered and got on with cooking a simple meal. Tom arrived home at half six and after giving me a hug, he disappeared into his office. I knocked on his door and entered. I rarely went in here, it was his sanctum, where he went to avoid everyone, including me. “Dinner is ready in five minutes.”

“Fine,” he said nodding, “got a few calls to make.”

“I’m dishing up in five minutes, if you’re not there it gets cold.”

“Okay, I’ll be there.”

I just knew he wouldn’t be, which was why I popped it back in the oven, although it was switched off, it was still warm. I’d finished mine before he emerged, looking very serious.

“What’s the problem?”

“That bloody man wants you to agree to do two films.”

“That’s outrageous.”

“That’s what I told him. He reckoned because you’ve already shot much of the first one, he wants you to agree to finish it by the end of the year for screening in the new year. He wants the second one for the same time, the following year.”

“What the harvest mouse one?”

“The same.”

“But they’re even harder to find and film than dormice.”

“I suggested that to him.”

“What did he say?”

“That you’d better not hang around then.”

“If I hadn’t promised Des, I’d have told him to stick his film, somewhere very dark and very personal.”

“He’d have got his own back.”

“Not if I left academia.”

“You’d have given up your career for a moron like him?”

“No, I’d have given up my career because of morons like him. I should then have spent the rest of my life campaigning against his sort of arsehole. It’s blatant abuse of power.”

“Where would that get you?”

“I’d have brought him down eventually, being Lady Muck, would have helped that.”

“I didn’t think you were driven by bitterness?”

“I’m not.”

“It looks that way from where I’m sitting.”

“It would be retribution.”

“Revenge, looks more appropriate.”

“Okay, revenge then.”

“Revenge does nothing for it’s perpetrators, except to cheapen their name.”

“Hey, I thought you were on my side.”

“I was until you started acting bitter.”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“No, that’s something I’ll never be. I’ve encountered some awful types over the years, who’ve done some pretty horrible things to me. Once I realised that bitterness does me more harm than them, I stopped feeling it. It was true that once abused by someone, I never trust them again and avoid them as much as I can, I do it without bitterness. It’s like a cancer and eats away at you.”

“I–erm–don’t know, I’ve never felt so angry with someone before.”

“He’s a pig, we know that, just accept it and move on. Use the tools he gives you, use his funding to get a proper editor, you can’t do it yourself. Get some of Des’ friends to give you a hand, but don’t let the BBC take control, or it will become their film, not yours. Send the message you want, not what other people want you to say.”

“I’m going back to Bristol at the weekend, I have a meeting with a friend of Des, who’s also a producer.”

“Be careful, or it will become their film.”

“I shall be careful, Daddy. Remember, the bank is part funding this and Henry liked my script and Des’ takes. I think he could be quite an ally.”

“Just be aware that Maskell and Henry have some history.”

“They do?"

"Maskell helped Henry get off a manslaughter charge during a pheasant shoot. He shot some guy who walked in front of him. The bloke died.”

“And how did Maskell get him off?”

“He said he’d shouted at the bloke who got shot. No one else did and they don’t remember Maskell saying anything, because no one saw what happened. The case was dismissed and Henry went on to greater things.”

“Oh, so did Henry shoot anyone?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure it was no harder than keeping his bank afloat in these trying times.”

“I thought that was just the weaker banks who were being wiped out.”

“Nowhere is safe anymore. Henry may be well placed to cope, but there will be pressure for him to merge or sell out to others.”

“Surely not…”

“If they hadn’t taken over High Street, they’d have been okay. Don’t you read anything in the papers?”

“Crossword clues, letters, cycling if there is any.”

“I don’t know why we bothered to educate women, maybe the Taliban have the right idea.”

“In which case, your dinner is in the dog!” I growled at him.