The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1114 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Simon called late afternoon to tell me he wouldn’t be home for dinner–he was dining with some of the people from the meeting. He sounded thoroughly fed up, so he got my sympathy.

He arrived home about ten that evening looking totally worn out–the councillors felt they could keep squeezing until the pips squeaked–however, Si apparently told them he was going to cancel their accounts, as there was no profit in them.

When I asked him about the four billion, he told me that was the investment part of the bank; apparently, the high street stuff doesn’t make anything like as much money, but is a facility they offer for customers hoping they’ll make investments or leave large balances in current accounts–such as the council.

In the end, by calling their bluff, Si saved the account–worth tens of millions of pounds–but he had to pay for dinner as an act of goodwill. Good ol’ bribery and corruption are alive and well, and happening in a council near you.

I expressed some milk for tomorrow and we went to bed. I reminded him if the job was getting to him, he needed to talk to someone. I even suggested if necessary, he could do something else, and we’d get by on my pay. He laughed and said something about seven children.

“We could live on my pay, if you want to do something else, or train for it.”

“Yeah, pay school fees and feed our brood on the chicken feed you earn?”

“The kids could always go to state schools.”

“I thought the fact that they don’t is because they wouldn’t take transgender kids?”

I blushed, “Okay.”

“Besides, what happens if they decide they could cope without an environmental advisor?”

“I’ll have to live on less, won’t I? I’ve done it before.”

“Sure, you wouldn’t have a great deal of choice would you?”

“I thought I’d saved them a whole lot of money and so paid for myself.”

“You think you can do that every year?”

“Um–probably not.”

“You won’t, however, Dad appointed you, so no one is going to suggest we don’t need you.”

“But if you’re finding it too stressful, Si, you need to think about doing something else.”

“I actually like much of my job,” he said kissing me.

“Much?”

“Do you enjoy all of yours?”

“Not really, I hate marking.”

“I hate sacking people.”

“Have you got to do that, then?”

“Yep–next week. I have to call an old friend into the office, and after the usual pleasantries, tell him to clear his desk and leave. In fact, they don’t even clear their own desks–someone does it as soon as they come to my office.”

“Why are you sacking him, or is too personal?”

“If I dump him now, I don’t have to pay him as much as I would in two years, if I did it then.”

“Is this purely motivated by money?”

“Not entirely, but we are a bank in a capitalist society, so it is important.”

“Why else then?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Yes I do.”

“You don’t.” He reiterated.

“Why don’t I?”

“Okay–I’ll tell you, I’m breaking a confidence to do so, so please respect that.”

“Not a word shall pass my lips.”

“Yeah sure.”

“You don’t believe me do you?”

“No–but then I know what I’m going to say.”

“It helps if you want to speak coherently.”

He gave me a filthy look–“Look here, little miss scatterbrain–I’m not the one who’s conversation flits about like butterfly with St Vitus dance.”

“Sydenham’s chorea,” I corrected and smiled.

“What is?”

“The proper name for St Vitus dance.”

“How d’you know that?”

“We had a kid in primary school who had it, after rheumatic fever.”

“And you remembered it?”

“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes.

“Babes, I am a banker, I remember interest rates and the prices of commodities, or the FT Index–obscure Latin names for even more obscure diseases is not my thing at all.”

“So why are you going to sack him?”

“He’s homophobic–he cancelled someone’s overdraft because he found out they were gay, and he also got rid of a lesbian woman who was still within the first few months of employment, and less protected.”

“Presumably he gave a different reason?” I asked.

“Yes–unsuited to the job.”

“And instead of confronting him, you’re going to make him redundant?”

“We have an equal opportunities policy for customers and staff. Even before I met you, I campaigned for equality for all without conditions. Dad saw the potential in it and we vigorously enforce it–as my ex-friend will learn next week.”

“He doesn’t sound as if he’s really equipped to deal with people.” That was my observation for what it’s worth.

“Oh I missed the best bit.”

“There’s more?”

“Oh yeah, and I can even tell you what your comment will be, when I do?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll bet you can’t.” I felt I could hold it together to say something off the wall and collect the bet–such as, ‘my dromedary has been struck by lightning.’

“So what’s the wager, then?” he asked.

“A tenner?”

“Come off it, Babes, a tenner would hardly register–no, money’s no fun. Something else.”

“Like what?” I asked having a horrible feeling I knew what he wanted.

“A milk shake–if you lose, and if you win–what d’you want?”

I thought for a moment, “Okay, I’ve got something.”

“Which is?”

“If I win, you stop asking for them.”

He gave a very hurt look, but his keeping on about it all the time was so irritating. “If that’s what you want.” He took a piece of paper and wrote something down. “That’s what I predict you’ll say–I hope you have loadsa milk,” he smirked.

“Is this some sort of trick?” I asked.

“No, it’s what I suspect you’ll say when you hear what I’m going to tell you.”

I now felt less sure of things–no, I could remember my dromedary–so I should be okay. We shook on the deal and my stomach flipped.

“A year or so ago, we had a young woman apply for a job. She was the best qualified for it and interviewed really well.”

“You were there were you?”

“No I was told later by two other members of the interview panel.”

“Carry on.”

“At the end of the interview she was invited to ask questions, which she did–intelligent ones too. She wasn’t exactly model quality but attractive in a boyish sort of way. She asked one final question, after she’d asked about equal opportunities–it’s law anyway, but she confirmed it, then asked if it made any difference to her job prospects that she was a pre-op transsexual. Up to then she had a job offer almost written, after that he, my friend, or ex-friend vetoed her appointment and they gave it to a bloke instead.”

“The bastard.” I said before I thought.

“Dah-dah,” he showed me the piece of paper. “ D’you do strawberry ones?” he smirked.