The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1503 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

On returning home, I mentioned to Simon that I might have found a new helper. I explained to him who it was, his expression changed. “Look, I don’t wish to sound prejudiced in anyway, but how many more of these gender benders are we going to have here?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“No, but with thirty odd million women in this country, how come none of them want to work here?”

“How do I know, I’ve advertised and even asked a recruitment agency to find someone, and so far they haven’t. Caroline needs a job and we need a pair of hands. Assuming that she doesn’t have a criminal record, I see no reason not to employ her.”

He was counting on his fingers. “Okay, there’s me, Julie, Trish, Billie, Maureen–can’t think of anyone else,” I said before he responded.

“You–you’re real as far as I’m concerned, so is Trish and Julie. Billie–she’s getting there. Maureen is an outsider, who I like very much but she’s not living here. This Caroline person will be and there will be more transgender women than biological ones–doesn’t that feel odd to you?”

“When you put it like that, yes, though counting the babies changes the balance a little. I just thought it would help her to grow in a safe environment for a year or two and then she’d probably be ready to move on anyway.”

“You can’t save the whole world, Cathy–least not on your own. It isn’t your responsibility to save all these other people either–the world is tough, they’ll find that out one way or another whether you help them or not.”

“I know that, but giving someone a chance to grow in a safe environment gives them a chance to be better able to deal with the outside world.”

“My wife. the Good Samaritan.”

“Sorry, darling, but I can’t help it. If I see a problem that I can help with, I tend to do so. You did the same for me.”

“No I didn’t, you were able to look after yourself.”

“What about the night you saved me from those ruffians at the bedsits?”

“Well, there were two of them, and if I recall, you dealt with one yourself anyway. If anything, you tend to protect me these days.”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Look, we’ll have a look at this Caroline person...”

“Can’t she be; this Caroline woman, rather than person?”

“Okay, that was a bit insensitive of me–Stella needs to agree to her, and I’d like to get Jenny’s take as well.”

“I’m more interested in what Trish will make of her,” I smiled at him.

“Trish? Why Trish?”

“Because she sees right through people and tells you what she sees without complication. If she doesn’t like what she sees, she says so.”

“She is sharp, I’ll give you that–but she’s only seven, for God’s sake.”

“Si, she is physically only seven, but so far, is the best case for reincarnation I’ve ever met.”

“Reincarnation of who?” he asked looking bemused.

“Well it wasn’t Marilyn Monroe, although she was brighter than she made out, except in acting. I was thinking, Einstein–or rather hoping him rather than bloody Newton, he was at least autistic at worst a sociopath.”

“Sociopath polymath–sounds good, surprised some pop group haven’t used it yet.”

“Si, do you honestly think Isaac Newton would be a suitable subject for a pop song?”

“Why not? They’ve done James Dean, Elvis, Rasputin, Marilyn Monroe...”

“Okay, you’ve convinced me, don’t mention that to Trish either, I don’t want her making Elton John feel threatened.”

Simon sniggered, obviously thinking through the scenario I’d just suggested. “Don’t want her involved in the music business, it makes banking look squeaky clean.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, they’re all thieves and rogues–plagiarising each other–bad as journalists.”

“I thought that only applied to Pulitzer prize winners.”

“Yeah, but they rumbled him didn’t they, and he had to give the prize back.”

“Okay, so we’ve got Trish’s path plotted have we? Nobel prize for each of the sciences in consecutive years, and the other lot of the brood can collectively take the peace prize?”

“Peace prize?”

“Yeah, distracting Einstein from starting World War three.”

“Oh c’mon, Trish isn’t that bad.”

“Isn’t she? So you don’t think she’d start WWIII just to see if she could?”

“Not unless someone provoked her. She’s actually quite kindly in her own way.”

“You mean she’d kill you before using you for vivisection.”

“That would be dissection, vivisection means chopping up while still alive.”

“Ugh–that makes me want to throw up. Can’t understand why you do biology, chopping up all those little animals.”

“Si, when did I last chop up an animal?”

“Yesterday, for dinner.”

“Very funny,” I said sarcastically as he sniggered at his own joke. “You know I hated killing things just to identify them or dissect them.” These days, my biology was reduced to watching, weighing, counting, recording or making films about things, not dissection, which I personally disliked.

He snorted and chuckled even more. “You are so predictable, Cathy.”

I shook my head and after pecking him on the cheek went up to bed. We talked and cuddled for a while but I was quite tired and nodded off to sleep.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Transgender Villa, the house where most of the inhabitants are changelings–not fairie folk, just fairies. The fact that all the women here were men, makes it the highest concentration of sex-change weirdos in Portsmouth, possibly making Portsmouth the sex-change capital of Europe.’

‘No,’ I shouted and he climbed in the window and tried to grab me. ‘Get off me you bastard,’ I shouted and tried to fight him off.

“Cathy, wake up, you’re having a bad dream.”

“Leave me alone, leave me alone,” I shrieked and woke myself up. I had my hand in Simon’s face and was trying to pull out his eyeballs while he was trying to stop me falling out of bed.

“Ouch, ouch,” he was saying quietly to himself as I left nail marks in his cheek. Suddenly I realised where I was–it was a dream. Then I saw the blood on his face and realised it was scratch marks–no wonder he left me in the dream–I was horrible, really horrible.