"Only because I recognise suitable habitats, but the vandals who farm these days, with their bloody flail cutters, make it harder and harder." I was on my soapbox. Normally, Agnew would light the blue touchpaper and enjoy the fireworks, but in front of Pippa, the Dean was not going to let that happen.

Easy As Falling Down A Hole.
by: her, that's the one.
part: the latest one

Managing to contact her mother to look after her children for lunch, Pippa agreed to accompany the Dean, Prof Agnew and yours truly, to lunch. Amazingly the Dean agreed to treat us, Tom Agnew nearly fainted. "Thirty bloody years I've known him, first time he's ever paid for anything, I'll bet the university is paying," he mumbled, "Tight as a duck's arse."

We went by taxi to a pub half a mile away, we could have walked there, although the time factor was something which was against us.

The dining room of the pub, was clean and welcoming and I was torn between a jacket potato and a salad, either with Tuna of course. In the end I opted for the salad, Pippa had one too, Dr Andrews had chicken Kiev, and predictably, Agnew had his curry. Maybe biologists are boring?

"Well that was a good morning's work," said the Dean, "you all handled it really well."

"David Attenborough here," Agnew nodded at me, "wants to make a film about bloody tree rats."

"Squirrels?" asked the Dean looking mystified.

"No, her ruddy dormice."

"Why not, could get all of us lots of publicity."

"Haven't you had enough?" I asked, because I had.

"Can't have too much. Do you realise how many prospective students who'd never heard of Portsmouth University before, are now thinking of coming here, especially females."

"They all want to hunt dormice!" winked Agnew, "make fur coats."

"Don't listen to him, Cathy, if it wasn't for Daubenton's bat, he'd probably be working in Tesco." Dean Andrews smirked and Agnew shot him an evil look.

"That sounds interesting," offered Pippa, obviously waiting for more.

Having heard the story before, I tried to put her off. Thankfully, she caught my eye. "So, how many applications will you get from all this?" I asked changing the subject.

"Far too many, but the more we receive the more we can look at getting funding to improve and expand our departments. Sadly, chemistry and physics are the victims, their numbers seem to be falling, which is a pity because we still need those disciplines to help us understand everything else."

"So the dormouse thing has helped then?" asked Pippa.

I nodded, but in mid munch was too polite to say anything. Tom Agnew wasn't. "Yes, I have to admit that Cathy's vermin have helped raise the profile of the department, and the university."

"Yeah, how about we have a rampant dormouse on the university's logo?" I mocked.

"Or someone wearing a dormouse fur coat," countered Agnew.

"Can't they're protected, I mean, even that foreigner in Tring, is protected." I snapped back at him, he loved verbal sparring, it had taken me nearly two years to appreciate it.

"Who's that?" asked Pippa.

"Rothschild," quipped the professor.

"The edible dormouse, Glis glis." I explained, "A different species introduced in about 1902. Native of Italy, it's protected too both here and in Italy, they still eat it there, albeit illegally."

"Introduced by Lord Rothschild, to Tring Park, as Cathy said, about the turn of the last century, apparently they escaped from the house and now occupy the surrounding countryside," added the Dean.

"They're not as interesting as the common ones," I opined.

"Are they common then?" asked Pippa.

"No and getting scarcer," I informed her.

"You seem to be able to find 'em alright," Agnew said to me.

"Only because I recognise suitable habitats, but the vandals who farm these days, with their bloody flail cutters, make it harder and harder." I was on my soapbox. Normally, Agnew would light the blue touchpaper and enjoy the fireworks, but in front of Pippa, the Dean was not going to let that happen.

"I think farming and the effects on wildlife is fascinating, but now is not the time and place to debate it." So saying he closed down the subject and Pippa looked almost disappointed.

"I'm learning such a lot from you three brainboxes, I'm a real townee, wouldn't recognise a dormouse if I fell over it."

"Sounds like you need Cathy to introduce you to Spike," said Agnew chuckling.

"Our show stealer," laughed Andrews.

"I hope they got that bit where she hopped down your blouse on camera." Agnew and Andrews were now laughing enough to draw attention from other tables.

"What?" gasped Pippa, so they recounted my failure as a mouse trainer interspersed with pauses for helpless laughter. I blushed like a toaster and unconsciously felt that the wet patch on my blouse was now dry and stiff.

"The dormouse went down your blouse?" she asked looking at me. I nodded.

"You should sent it to that TV show that uses clips like that, it could win you a couple of hundred," said Pippa.

"I'll bet Dan has already done that," I thought was a reasonable response, still feeling rather warm despite it being winter. This was not helped by my consumption of a glass of Chablis, well I wasn't paying for it.

"I'm thinking that I'll detail someone else to teach that school stuff Cathy, how do you feel about it?"

Relieved was probably the main emotion but I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Why do I think there could be an ulterior motive here?"

"You can do some extra tutoring and project work, especially if you're going to be replacing David Attenborough."

"Ooh a real celebrity!" squeaked Pippa, "Just think in a few years time, I'll be able to watch your documentaries and when the titles show, no pun intended," she giggled at her own joke, "I'll be able to say, Lady Catherine Cameron, I know her."

"The acceptable face of dormice," said Agnew, then catching Andrews' eye, the two cracked up again.

"Bah!" I said sounding like a depressed sheep.

"They're only jealous," comforted Pippa.

"Wait till the posters and leaflets go out."

"What!" I gasped, "but we hadn't agreed on that, had we?" Obviously he decided we had. "I'm far from happy about that."

"Sorry Cathy, executive decision."

"You sound like George Bush invading Iraq," I said which I knew would annoy him, we'd both marched in the anti-war demonstration in London.

"Not at all," he shrugged it off, "With the newspapers gobbling up the story, we went ahead using the same photo, to maximise it's impact. You are officially our page three girl."

At this Andrews choked on his wine and sprayed it all over the floor, he began coughing and went very red. This was not helped by my response.

"I see so for the next one, you want Spike and me posing in just bikini bottoms?"

"Good idea, now you're thinking," teased Agnew. Andrews nearly expired and even Pippa choked on her drink.

The taxi back was relatively quiet, I felt sleepy as I always did after drinking at lunchtime. "So are you back to work now?" I asked Agnew.

"I supose I'd better stay this afternoon and see what mess you two have made of my office. Mind you this one makes a mean cup of coffee, better than you." He indicated Pippa then me respectively.

"I don't make you coffee," I said indignantly, I was about to say, I'm a research scientist not a bloody lackey.

When Agnew ended the conversation with, "See, no respect for an old man. Good job you were there," he said patting Pippa on the knee and she wasn't moving it away. Hmmm!

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