The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1117 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The first through the door was a tall black man, whom I presumed was Eldridge. He held open the door for his two companions, a rather plump blond girl and a redhead, who was taller, thinner and boyish looking. I think I knew who was who.

“Right girls and boys,” called Simon clapping his hands together; “This is, Eldridge, Erica and Rita, did I get that right?” he asked one of the candidates. “I’m Simon Cameron, the lovely lady, is my–I thought he was going to give it away–associate, Cathy Watts, and the ugly one’s Howard–even his mother didn’t love him.”

“Thanks, Simon, at least my parents were married,” Howard rebuked.

“I didn’t think it was legal with monkeys,” Simon threw back and I felt a need to intervene.

“Children, please, can we have a bit of decorum–you’re senior managers. What are these young people going to think about this organisation?”

“Yes, Mummy,” Simon winked at me as he spoke; I scowled in return, if he was going to sack Howard anytime soon, the last thing he needs is to be cracking jokes with him.

Howard nodded, and moved towards the food, avoiding our candidates as if touching one would contaminate him.

“Are you the dormouse lady?” asked Erica, approaching me–“I saw your posters and leaflets in the bank and I watched your film, too.”

“Ah, but did you learn anything from it?”

“It was immensely entertaining as well as presenting facts rather succinctly–though I didn’t go much on the fact that woodmice will eat the brains out of torpid dormice if they find them.”

“Yes, it was a bit gruesome, but I wanted to show how defenceless they are even with species we don’t associate with predation.”

“So it’s a mouse eat mouse world out there,” offered Erica, blushing.

“Very, do come and have some food.” I invited her to the table.

“I don’t think I could eat anything, I’m too nervous.”

“You should, it’s pretty good and you need some carbs to keep you alert.”

“Do you?” she seemed surprised.

“Yes, they found that girls who skipped breakfast didn’t do as well in exams as those who did eat some.”

“Is that right–oh well, I’d better have something.”

“Besides, we’re just as nervous as you–aren’t we Howard?”

“Aren’t we what?” he was sat on his own at the end of the table.

“As nervous as the candidates?” I repeated.

“If you say so.” He precluded any further discussion by stuffing half a roll into his mouth.

“Cathy, are you the one who made that absolutely adorable film about dormice?” asked Eldridge approaching me. He was flamboyantly dressed, but on him it didn’t look outrageous. However, his mannerisms were camp and I could see Howard appearing very edgy as he glanced at us.

“Yes, did you enjoy it?”

“Oh it was so cute, and you in your shorts and that top were to die for–didn’t the mozzies eat you though?” He smiled with huge Persil white teeth.

“Insect repellent–keeps most things away, so did a good dish of garlic bread.”

“Including your boyfriend, I’d guess.”

“Nah, nothing much keeps him away.” I avoiding looking at Simon who was busy talking with Rita.

“Ooh, lucky you,” squealed Eldridge, and Howard cringed. I smiled and blushed.

Eventually I rubbed shoulders with Rita. She was very interesting to talk to–a radical feminist who felt modern women pop stars and actors were letting the side down. She was also appalled by the objectification of children, turning six year olds into Lolitas. I was inclined to agree with her.

“Yes, I have to keep my two six year olds on a tight leash when we’re shopping. They all want to look like Cheryl Cole, who is quite a pretty girl, but sells herself to the youngsters in a very sexual way.”

“I agree,” said Rita, “she’s sending them the wrong messages–sex can’t get you everything, only hard work can do that.”

“Thankfully, my two are pretty bright and should do well in school, however the nine year old worries me.”

“How many have you got?”

“Children? Seven.”

“At your age? Did you have a litter?”

“No, we adopted several.”

“Oh–that makes more sense.” She seemed to be weighing me up. “You’re far too young to have had seven children unless it was one of those fertility drug births.”

“No, we adopted.”

“Right people, it’s time to get professional and personal. We’re interviewing Rita, Eldridge and then Erica.” Simon drew the lunch to a close and the panel took its place in a sort of semi-circle, the candidate sitting before us.

The interviews were much like any interviews, nervous candidates being questioned by nervous interviewers. I don’t like doing it, neither does Howard–he asked very little of any of the candidates. Simon, however, did very well as chairman, and also as lead interviewer.

I concentrated on academic matters, asking about education and how suited they were to the job being offered. Eldridge had a ball, several times when he talked with Simon it was very funny.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” asked Simon.

“Lying on a beach in Bermuda, watchin’ the triangles.”

“Is there more than one triangle in Bermuda?”

“Oh yeah, there’s loads, three on every bikini, to start with.”

With my boobs and bum, I’d need pretty big triangles, I thought to myself.

Rita, went on about the exploitation of women and quoted John Lennon’s song, which I hadn’t heard for a long time, but which I certainly wouldn’t want to sing in front of Eldridge. Simon talked with her for several minutes about how best to avoid being seen as an exploitative employer. Howard almost protested until he remembered just who Simon was–the boss’s kid.

Erica, was as far as I knew, the only genuine candidate, and she seemed the best suited for the job. She was shy and easily embarrassed.

When Simon asked her as he had the other two, was there anything she’d like to ask us, she dropped her bombshell again.

“Yes, I’m transsexual. Does your bank have an equal opportunities policy to deal with gender different people?”

Howard wanted to run out screaming. I blushed–though I don’t know why, and Simon was cool as a cucumber.

“We do. It’s not an issue, and we have employed transgendered people before. We don’t discriminate on the grounds of gender, colour, sexuality or preference. We also have similar policies on race, ethnic origins, some cultural matters and some religious ones. Obviously we can’t have every Muslim employee disappearing five times on a Friday, but we do try to enable them to practice their religion where it’s practicable.

“The same for people changing gender, we’ve allowed time off for hospital appointments and encouraged them to integrate with the rest of the staff–we actually have very few bigots employed, and any bad apples are removed before they make the rest of the barrel rotten. Is that not so, Howard?”

“Um–what? Oh yes, spot on, Simon.”

“How does the lady of the panel feel about transsexuals?”

“What d’you mean? I don’t have a problem, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I presume I’d be working with you quite a lot?”

“To some extent, yes,” I agreed.

“So are you happy to be working with someone who was supposed once to be a boy?”

“Why shouldn’t I? Providing you do your best, I really have no issues with someone who is gay, straight, transsexual, martian or mermaid. What I do have problems with is someone who doesn’t pull their weight, who lies or hides things from me. That you’ve revealed yourself at this stage tends to indicate you won’t do any of those things.”

“I hope not. I had an interview with this bank before, I didn’t get the job–possibly because I told them I was TS then as well. This time I feel it really isn’t an issue, thank you.”

“It really isn’t–not these days. There are some very talented people out there who previously were neglected or lived very constrained or nervous lives because of the fear of exposure. When the head of BP can come out as gay, and half the bloody government, why worry? We’re looking to employ whoever we appoint to do the job we’ve outlined in the job description, not to worry about what gender you are. Providing you comport yourself in your preferred role in a proper manner, this bank will support you all the way. Anything you’d like to add, Howard?”

“No, I agree with every word you’ve said Simon, and also with you, Cathy. I don’t think I have anything to add, other than to wish you well with your gender adventure.”

I glanced at Simon who nearly fell off his seat.

The interview finished and we quickly agreed Erica was the only satisfactory candidate. As they’d been asked to wait, she was called back in and offered the job, which she accepted and left in tears. The other two weren’t at all put out and accepted the expenses cheques quite happily. A hundred quid each seemed very generous to me, but I wasn’t supposed to see that.

Simon was concluding the proceedings when Howard caught him completely by surprise. “Can I give you this?” he passed an envelope to Simon.

“What is it?”

“My resignation.”

“You what?” Simon was totally taken aback.

“Would you like me to leave?” I asked.

“No, Lady Cameron, you might as well hear this too.”

“Oh,” I blushed and felt very uncomfortable.

“About twelve years ago, I went to Kenya for the bank. We were setting up a branch in Nairobi through the Bank of Nairobi. I got lonely one night and saw this drop dead gorgeous girl–well one thing led to another and we had sex–several times in fact. She was one of the best lays I’ve ever had, however, I paid for it–the bitch gave me HIV. Thankfully it’s been held by retrovirals, but I thought I might not be here forever and quite frankly, I’ve had enough of banks and especially this one–though their pension plan is good.

“So, before you sack me, Simon–I’m not stupid, and I heard that you were gunning for me, despite old times...”

“Sorry, Howard, I can’t stand bigotry, especially in those I think should know better.”

“If you get HIV, maybe you’ll develop some dislike of people with coloured skins or queers.”

“Howard, if you got something from practising unsafe sex–you’ve only yourself to blame. Most of the prostitutes in Africa have HIV or AIDS, or hepatitis–it was your own weakness or stupidity which caused you to catch it, so don’t blame the world. I suspect the poor woman you caught it from is dead now.”

“I hope so, the bitch,” snapped Howard and left. “Oh, I cleared my desk earlier, bye.”