The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1493 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I spent the day working on my lesson plans or doing chores when I got tired of thinking or typing. I asked Jenny about her friend, who seemed to be avoiding her. I decided she obviously didn’t want the job, so I sent to a job agency a job description, salary I was prepared to pay, and a job profile. I wanted a female worker, who wasn’t worried by a transgender child, who could look after children and help about the house.

Seeing me doing this, Stella offered to pay towards it and we’d increase the hours, so she could have some help as well. Jenny sulked a little, she was sure there was a reason her friend didn’t come back to her. I was inclined to agree–she didn’t want the job. I was also insisting on references–these were my children we’re talking about.

I’d discussed with the children that I was going to employ another helper because I was going back to work–they knew it was coming but they didn’t like it–I understood. I was fortunate enough to have a mother who was always home–unless she was out shopping or cleaning the church–that sort of thing. At times it was a damned nuisance because I wanted to play with a new piece of clothing I’d acquired or bit of makeup and she was there, so I couldn’t.

I had very little anything because she used to clean my room–I offered but she became suspicious then, so I had to move my oddments to different locations at different times. I think she was suspicious because I was sure she used to watch me. I cured her of that, she was terrified of mice, and after sitting doing something deliberately furtive under my bed so she saw me and I acted guilty, I knew she’d look the next day when I was at school. I left a mouse in a box which she was sure to find.

When I came home she was hysterical and made me go and catch the mouse and kill it or take it away. It wasn’t real it was a fur covered thing for cats to play with which I’d rigged to a piece of elastic, when she opened the box, it moved and seemed to scrabble. She didn’t wait to see if it was real or not. I did it again with a realistic spider but she spotted that one.

She didn’t find my stash, because I built a false bottom in the wardrobe, which wasn’t very big but big enough to hide a thin dress, a bra, panties and some shoes and a few odd bits of makeup–a lipstick, some eye shadow and eyeliner. I didn’t dare use mascara in case I couldn’t get it off–until the Lady Macbeth episode occurred and then Siân and I went to town. My dad threw it all out once the supposed humiliation was over. I still refused to cut my hair.

Back to my kids, I know they prefer me to be home when they come home but I explained Gramps needed me to do this, so they accepted it, albeit with reluctance. I also explained I needed someone to help me and that they’d need to be aware that this was a house that supported transgender children.

Billie immediately felt I was getting at her but I explained I wasn’t, and that several of us had things to hide. I just suggested if she continued as she did at school, whoever we employed might never know just who was what. I promised that whoever they were, they’d never see any of my children naked.

When I got back home I discussed this with Jenny and Stella who agreed my policy and that they would enforce it. Jenny also promised not to let on who was what unless the new person guessed n which case she was to be sent to talk to me about it, or Stella if I was unavailable.

I decided that the contract would include a confidentiality clause, so if they blabbed about it, they’d be paying for it for the rest of their lives. The agency accepted my idiosyncratic rules, because I was paying above the odds for the work, and I wanted a permanent member of staff, so they weren’t going to send me their agency people, they were recruiting for me. They would get back as soon as they could.

Danny came home and was beaming, he had Piggy’s name--Peregrine Hoggett–no wonder they called him Piggy. I called the school and made an appointment to see the headmaster the next day. I also gave Danny a pat on the back, he’d done a good job. His reward, a trip in my car to school; while Jenny took the girls on to theirs. They weren’t too happy about that either.

I watched Danny swagger into school–I sat in the car listening to the radio and glancing through the Guardian, mind you part of me was also watching the car while there were kids about. My appointment was half past nine, it was not even nine yet and I was tempted to close my eyes–I could have set my phone as an alarm–however, I decided against it for several reasons, not least that I had mascara on and didn’t want my eyelashes to stick together. I wore a business type suit, another Chanel one, only this one definitely had the mark of Karl Largerfeld–I didn’t buy it, it was another of Stella’s cast offs.

At twenty five past, I walked from the car to the school, my heels clicking on the marble effect floors and at exactly half past the headmaster invited me into his office. I didn’t beat about the bush, I showed him the pictures Trish had printed off for me and told him that I understood he had a child in his school who habitually carved this design on everything. He blushed and denied it. I named the boy and he had him sent for. Danny’s caricature wasn’t an exaggeration–he was a wide as he was tall, his nose was running, which he wiped on his sleeve and he smelt–of something pretty gross–think muck spreader and you won’t be too far wrong.

When the boy arrived he was seated on the corner of the headmaster’s rather nice mahogany veneered desk, I was sitting at the side of the desk and the head was in his chair behind it.

We showed him the pictures which he denied all knowledge of–no surprise there then–I explained that if it happened again, I would have the police sent to arrest him. That frightened him and the headmaster. The boy was dismissed and the headmaster opened as many windows as he could.

“You have no proof, it’s pure circumstantial evidence if not hearsay. I accepted it probably was though there was one nice touch–as I left I noticed a mark on the headmaster’s precious desk. I pointed it out to him and when he examined it, it was the same as the mark on my car. I thought he was going to have a stroke he went very red and his neck began to throb. He promised me that it wouldn’t happen again because he was going to murder the little shit as soon as I left. I couldn’t help smirking.