The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1589 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“How was Julie, Mummy?” asked Trish as we entered the house.

“She’s fine, she sends her love.”

“Can we go and see her?”

“I expect so, I’ll speak with the ward sister tomorrow.”

She jumped up and down with excitement. “How is Caroline?”

“Getting better.”

“Good, when is she coming home?”

“She isn’t–least not to here.”

“Who’s going to look after her when she does go home?”

“Darling, that isn’t our problem. She doesn’t work for me anymore, she left–okay?”

“Why did she leave?”

“Because she wanted to.”

“Why did she want to?”

“Because she did–I don’t know why in fine detail, all I know is that she wanted to go and so she did. She’s an adult, they can make their own decisions, they don’t need to ask for permission.” I was lying, but how can you explain all that happened between us to a seven year old?

“I don’t think you wanted her here anymore, did you?”

“What I wanted is irrelevant, it was her decision to go back to Bristol.”

“Is she going to live in your old house?” asked Livvie who’d joined the pack seeking for gossip.

“No, she has a place of her own.”

“Can we go and see her next time we go to Bristol?”

“I doubt it.”

“Why not, we like Caroline.”

I took a deep breath–“Okay, I didn’t want to tell you this, but I don’t think she’s going to be Caroline anymore.”

“Don’t be silly, who’s she going to be then,” asked Trish.

“She changing her name I s’pect,” suggested Livvie which was part right.

“What she gonna call herself, Mummy?”

“I don’t know–now enough of these questions, it’s bedtime.”

“Is she gonna be a man again?” asked Mima who’d stood patiently waiting to ask her question.

The other two snorted and laughed until I said, “Yes, probably.”

“You was wight, Twish.”

“Was I? I only said she’d changed since Jenny came back.”

“You said she’d changed back.”

“Yeah, like she was when she first came.”

“Oh–I don’t understand, Mummy,” Mima came and stood beside me. “If she’s a wady, how can she be a man?”

“I knew it,” said Trish, “That would explain why she didn’t come for her clothes–she wouldn’t need them.”

“She was coming back for her clothes, she was hit by a car trying to catch the bus while trying to come out here.”

“Oh,” Trish looked puzzled.

“How can a wady be a man, Mummy? I mean Juwie and Twish are stiww girwls?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart, I expect she thought she was a woman, but after trying it decided it wasn’t right for her. She’s entitled to think again after she’s tried something isn’t she?” Mima nodded.

“C’mon off to bed with you,” I shepherded them up to their room and stared at the photo of Billie.”

“It’s okay, Mummy, we tell her all the gossip,” said Livvie, making me almost choke with the huge lump that forming in my throat.

“That’s kind of you,” I managed to get out before pretending I needed a wee and disappeared into my own bathroom. I heard toothbrushes buzzing the other side of the wall and knew they were cleaning their teeth. It gave me a minute or two to compose myself. These things always get you when you least expect it.

I tucked them in told them a bit more about Julie’s hospital room and then left them to sleep. Downstairs Stella was laying in ambush. “Have you advertised for a replacement housekeeper yet?”

“Yes, I emailed the paper lunchtime.” I’d done it from my Blackberry.

“When are they going to run it?”

“Tomorrow I hope, I got a box number and I asked for references. You can help me interview.”

“Alright–oh, I might know someone who could be interested.”

“Tell them to apply, except you’ll have to declare it at interview that you know them.”

“If they’re transgender–tell them not to bother.” Simon had obviously heard part of the conversation.

“Very funny, Cathy’s the one who knows all them, I only know normal people,” declared Stella blushing. Simon guffawed and took some while to stop laughing.

“That is so funny, Stel, none of us know any normal people unless they’re customers or patients or students. Hey, that’s a good idea, why don’t you ask if any of your students want to earn some pin money, babysitting?”

“They should be too busy studying, that’s why.”

“Rubbish, they’re down the union or the pub whichever has the cheaper beer.” Simon had been a student, he should know.

“Some, most of the girls I teach I don’t know at all well unless they’re in the second or third year, and I shouldn’t think they’d be interested.”

“Why not, there can’t be that many openings for counting dormice, and we pay better than McDonald’s.”

“Would you like fries with that dormouse, madam?” said Stella, causing Simon to lose it again.

“Very funny. For your information, husband and sister in law mine, we teach them a few more tricks than monitoring dormice. They can do all sorts of surveys, explain the legal ramifications of the Wildlife and Countryside act, especially with regard to protected or scheduled animals or plants. They can also explain how environments and habitats are at risk and how to protect them. It’s quite a comprehensive course, you know?”

“And you teach them all of that–a hundred and twenty students?”

“A hundred and forty, no I only do the introduction and some of the fieldwork.”

“Big group for fieldwork isn’t it?” Simon wasn’t letting up.

“Yes it is; which is why I’ve spent the last couple of days trying to sort out how we do that, split them up. It means they won’t get as much practical as we’d like, but that’s life.”

“Didn’t you devise the course?”

“Yes, Simon, you know very well I did, with Tom’s help.”

“He told me it was now his biggest course.”

“Is it?” I pretended to be uninterested.

“You know it is.”

“Si, I don’t care–it pays me a salary–so the more the merrier, up to a point.”

“You must be pretty close to that now.”

“It’s a hundred and fifty.”

“How would you run fieldwork with one hundred and fifty students marauding in a woodland?”

“We wouldn’t, it would all become virtual fieldwork until the second year.”

“Virtual?” He looked shocked by my answer.

“Yeah, you know, with computers.”

“I know what it means.”

“Alan, you know, my cameraman, has been helping me develop a module which we’re trialling with some volunteers, if it works, we’ll offer it elsewhere. I did a small write up with Alan in an ecology journal and we’ve had loads of enquiries.”

“D’you get the money or does the university?” Trust Simon to come down to filthy lucre.

“We share it.”

“How much?”

“One third each and one third goes into further research to improve it. Alan’s got a friend who is a real computer geek who’s looking at some ideas we thought up to make it more realistic, interlinking with film and making it more interactive. Should be good.”

“How much are you expecting to make?”

“About a hundred thousand a year if we managed to interest a dozen or more universities. Sussex was top of the list.” I blushed, but felt vindicated by that.

“Your alma mater–not bad at all–for a housewife.” He suddenly ducked past me and ran up stairs.

“Let him go,” said Stella, “don’t get mad–get even.”