The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1043 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The next few days were murderous. I kept Billie at home and she wore the two dresses, which I made her wash and iron—if she was going to play girl, she was going to do it properly. Julie was still a little suspicious of her new sister, but Stella trimmed her longish boy’s hair into a passable girl style, which she was delighted about. I was completely unsure what to do next, except to play it by ear.

I wrote a speech for the school and scrapped it twice. When I collected the girls I spoke to the headmistress and she told me something about ten minutes was long enough—she added, how long will your girls sit still listening to old fogies spouting at them.

When I asked if they had a projector system which could show a DVD, she said they did. I then knew exactly what I was going to do. Apparently the format of the prize day was a short religious service by the priest attached to the school, then the introduction of the worthies—chairman of the governors and one or two others, then finally me as guest of honour.

After the prayers and a hymn, the chairman would report to the parents and children then the other worthies would say a few words if they wanted, finally when all the kids were completely bored to tears it would be my turn to speak and then to present the prizes.

The more I thought about it, the more I was sure that it would either go down like a house on fire or a lead balloon. In which case they wouldn’t invite me again—and probably ask me to remove my kids—nah, they wanted the money.

I let Billie paint her finger and toenails, or actually, Julie I think, did the artwork—Trish and Livvie were livid, and insisted Julie paint their toenails as well—school didn’t permit painted nails or makeup.

On the Thursday, I took the girls to school as normal and then after a bit of paperwork, I got an early lunch. Simon had gone to work from the branch in Portsmouth, and Maureen was meeting him there to discuss the building security—they needed new bars on the windows and some sort of electronic scanning system. Maureen was involved with it anyway—it all went over my head, but they had saved hundreds of thousands by turning down the heating a few degrees as per my earlier suggestion. So I was still in Henry’s good books.

After lunch, I went and showered and did my hair, which Stella blow dried and set for me. I was going to wear it down. I wore my YSL suit and silk blouse with navy shoes and matching bag. I had my laptop with DVD and my prompt cards—not that I would really need them, but I’ve never done this before—except that thing at Sussex.

I set off early and popped into the university on the way to the school and borrowed a teaching aid from them—now I was ready.

I had difficulty parking the Mondeo at the school, even the playground was in use as a car park. Fortunately one of the teachers spotted me and led me into a vacant space which was just big enough for Tom’s chariot.

I carried my stuff into the school and was taken to meet the other guests. I was the youngest by about five hundred years and the only one without a hearing aid—I was beginning to feel that this could be a lead balloon outcome.

Sister Maria plugged my DVD into the laptop that was connected to the projector which also had a sound system. I placed my other teaching aid under the table at which we sat on the stage.

The priest, a Father Abelard, was a kindly old soul who did the prayers and the hymn quite quickly. The other worthies were introduced and they said a few words. By the time it was my turn the kids were becoming a little restless.

I could see several of them wondering who I was and why I was guest of honour. Sister Maria stood and said, “Thank you for your patience girls, but I suspect you will enjoy our guest of honour, Catherine, The Lady Cameron, who is a scientist, film maker, teacher, mother and wife, and one of our foremost authorities on Muscardinus avellanarius. I give you the Lady Cameron.

There was a polite round of applause as I rose to my feet, I picked up the box from under the table and set it on the top. I took a sip of water and hoped that I didn’t start coughing—my luck held.

“Mr Chairman, Headmistress and other guests, girls and parents, thank you for inviting me to talk to you and to present the prizes afterwards.

“I think everyone has been sitting long enough, so would you all like to stand up and turn around and shake hands with the person sitting behind you.” There were murmurs of surprise, but everyone complied with my request.

“Thank you, now you all have one more acquaintance.” There was a ripple of laughter and I knew it could possibly be saved although I doubted they’d ever invite me again.

“I’m sure that usually your guests have riveting speeches to make to you—I don’t. I could bore you to death with facts and figures about my specialist area of study or I could show you. I think you’ll be pleased to hear I’ve chosen the latter.

“My specialist interest is in British mammals, and in one in particular, which apart from being wonderfully interesting is also about as cute as they come—the common or hazel dormouse.

“Some of you may have seen my film a few months ago,” there were murmurs probably of, ‘That’s where I’ve seen her before.’ “Well relax, I’m not going to make you watch it again, though the BBC do have a DVD of it available for sale if any of you are desperate to see it. What I have for you are some of the out-takes. For those of you who don’t know what those are—essentially, they’re the bits where things went wrong, either with the equipment, I forgot my lines or did something equally unusable.

“The moral of it all for you all, is primarily, if at first you don’t succeed—you’re probably a natural as a film maker.” I pressed the start button and they all saw Spike jump down my jumper, then Alan chased by the owl, me falling over the log and various other mishaps.

I did include a bit where it went right, just to prove I could do it properly at times. When I finished the film, they’d all been laughing themselves silly for fifteen minutes and there was a rousing round of applause which continued for a couple of minutes.

I asked for quiet and eventually got it. “As you can see, I don’t take myself too seriously, but I do take my work deadly seriously—even so, it can also be fun. After the presentations are over, those who wish to see a real live dormouse will be able to—I have one here with me.” A ripple of excitement went through the audience, which wasn’t entirely unexpected.

I handed back control to the headmistress. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a prize day like that before, thank you, Lady Cameron for an educational and entertaining time, and I’m sure lots of us will hang on afterwards to see your dormouse.” She then called out named pupils and they walked out to the stage, accepted the envelope I gave them and shook my hand.

I was horrified to hand an envelope to Trish, who of course was best student in her year, and Livvie got one for most improved student. Actually, nearly everyone got something, which was time consuming, but fun. The envelopes contained a book token.

At the very end the old priest gave a closing prayer and the headmistress ended the meeting. Of course dozens of them came to see Spike, who because it was so warm, was in a torpid state. I lifted her out of the nest box and she was curled up, her tail over her nose as she rested in the palm of my hand.

After it was all over, I popped her back in the box and closed it firmly. I also retrieved my DVD and three children.

“Lady Catherine, that has to be the most entertaining speech day I’ve ever attended, and student and teacher, I’ve been to a few, I can tell you. Thank you so much for your time, I know how precious it is to you. Thank you, as well for sharing your love of your subject and the gift you have to communicate it to others. I hope you’ll come back one day and talk to us again.”

The headmistress was suitably impressed, so it had worked—not only that, but the chairman and the priest also enjoyed it and nearly shook my arm off as they left.

Naturally my kids were more impressed with Spike than with me—mind you, I suppose they see me every day, Spike only visits on special occasions. Children have a way of bringing one back to earth, don’t they?