We were met by two men inside the building and after shaking hands, they took our cases and asked us to follow them. We emerged at the other end of the building and there waiting for us was a small helicopter.

"You don't expect me to get in that do you?" I said feeling very apprehensive.

"It's perfectly safe Miss Watts."

"I expected something with wings on it, not a flying teaspoon."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike
by Angharad
part: 14 dozen + 10.

I called Des, there was no reply. Just what I needed. Tom was on about food, I wasn't hungry.

"But you have to eat to keep your strength up," he remonstrated with me.

"Tom, I know what you say makes sense, but if I ate anything now, I should be sick."

"It might be wind, you have, that can make you feel sick. Have some milky coffee."

I was astonished, he could operate the microwave all by himself. Not only that but he made me a hot, milky coffee and I drank it and then ate a banana. I did have wind or methane.

I tried Des again, "Why do people always ring when you're on the frigging toilet?"

"I checked with your neighbours first and as soon as the bathroom light went on, I phoned."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" he asked rhetorically.

"So what do you advise?" I asked hoping for miracles.

"What do you want to do?" he threw back at me.

"Wake up and find this has all been a bad dream."

"Oh dear, I was hoping you'd talk about fighting back."

"I don't want to fight with anyone, it's so passe."

"Oh, fine, then let them set the agenda and you end up dancing to their tune."

"Have you seen me dance, not a pretty sight."

"Personally, I'd take the risk and whisk you off your feet anyway."

"If ever I want to be whisked, I know where to come."

"Oh yes, I'm a dab hand with a whisk. Now to business, you appear to be dealing with ruthless characters, with all the hallmarks of organised crime."

"You're joking, the mob?" I gasped and felt sick again, I did not want to tangle with them. "Can't I simply disappear?"

"What under a motorway?"

"No, I mean flee the country for a few weeks?"

"Sure, while Simon's dad loses his bank and you lose all credibility."

"You mean I had some to lose?"

"Oh Cathy, don't give me the false modesty trip, you know what you're good at as well as I do. Why do you think I wanted you do make a film with me?"

"So what do I do?"

"Get your beautiful arse up here and talk to the Beeb, they'll be the most sympathetic audience you'll get."

"What do I say?"

"They'll discuss that with you, but it'll be about having a sex change and marrying Simon. These days it should be no big deal, but the fact that you are so damned sexy, and marrying a total moron is news. There's still time to elope you know?"

"Des, will you think with your brain instead of your dick?"

"Damn, that gives me most of my best ideas."

"So what do I do Des?" I decided to bring him back on track.

"Be ready with an overnight case and change of clothing. Wear the suit you wore for the press conference and the boots, I love women in boots. Simon is going to be with you anytime now, get him to wear something tidy too. You will be picked up at exactly seven, be ready. You will be taken to Southampton and flown from there to Bristol, from there to the studios where Helen will talk with you, she's flying down to Bristol on the off chance I can persuade you to come and talk with her. After the studios you'll be taken to a hotel and put up overnight and they will have you driven back tomorrow."

"What do I have to say?" I felt very nervous about the whole thing.

"You're asking me? You are one of the best communicators I have ever seen, say what comes in your head to the questions they ask. Look beautiful and sexy, but innocent, you know chaste and virginal."

"That won't be hard, I am."

"You are what?"

"Chaste and a virgin."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. It should in this day and age, but with you it doesn't. Look it's coming up to Christmas, your middle name isn't Mary is it?"

"Ha bloody ha, if the hotel is full and I have to stay in the stable, watch out!"

"These days it would be the underground car park."

"Yeah instead of the ox and the ass, it would be amongst a row of BMWs and the odd Mercedes. With the three wise men from Ace carparks Ltd."

"Cathy, instead of redoing a surreal nativity, go and get changed and tell that moronic fiance of yours to get himself tidied up too."

Simon arrived moments after I put the phone down, he had rushed from London and looked hot and bothered. I told him what Des had said and he agreed, rushing up to the shower.

I went up and changed into the blouse and suit I had worn for the meeting with the EU team and the press conference. I packed a nightdress and my toiletries. Simon had met Stella on route and she'd given him a case of clothes. We were ready by six forty five. As we weren't driving, Simon and Tom had a stiff brandy. I spent most of the time trying not to chew my nails.

The door bell rang and Tom went to answer it. He admitted a tall policeman. "I have to collect Lord Cameron and Miss Cathy Watts."

I wasn't expecting this and felt completely disoriented by it. "Can I see your warrant card please? I'm sorry to be so rude, but I've had people trying to kill me all afternoon."

"Sure," he said, he pulled out the required object and I thanked him.

I pulled on my coat and gloves and picked up my handbag, Simon collected the cases and we went out to the waiting police car, a huge BMW.

"Why are we being taken by the police?" I whispered to Simon.

"Because there is a risk involved, if the guys who were chasing you earlier knew you were going to the BBC, they'd try and stop you."

"Oh!" I gasped and fell silent. I didn't need to know the facts, my imagination was bad enough.

The car absolutely flew along, blue lights flashing much of the way. The roads seemed to clear for it and we were in Southampton airport about half an hour later, which is very good going. We were taken to a small hangar/warehouse on the edge of the air field and the police waited until we went in, then went haring off again. This was bizarre, like something from a spy film, all it needed now was James Bond to appear.

We were met by two men inside the building and after shaking hands, they took our cases and asked us to follow them. We emerged at the other end of the building and there waiting for us was a small helicopter.

"You don't expect me to get in that do you?" I said feeling very apprehensive.

"It's perfectly safe Miss Watts."

"I expected something with wings on it, not a flying teaspoon."

"Oh yes very droll."

"Look sweetheart, just get in the fucking thing alright?" said Simon and practically lifted me inside it. Well the noise was horrendous once the engine started up and the whirly bit on the roof began to go around.

Then we were airborne and in a few minutes the lights of the airport were quickly disappearing beneath us. We had ear defender things which also had a microphone and speakers attached, it was the only way you could hear anyone speak. I sat hugging Simon's arm, which he wrapped around me, I was genuinely uncertain about the wisdom of these things, especially one which looked to have a smaller motor than a sit and ride lawn mower.

Amazingly, we were at Bristol airport in under an hour, where a large Mercedes scooped us up and took us to the BBC.

We spoke to the producer and editor of the Ten O'Clock News. They wanted to do a recorded piece they could edit, I refused.

"How badly do you want to interview me?" I asked.

"After what it's cost to get you here, I'd should very much like you to appear on the news and then on Newsnight afterwards."

"No one mentioned that to me," I said indignantly.

"Oh, well as you're already here and Jeremy is on his way down now, we hoped you would speak with him."

"He'll eat me alive," I gasped, Jeremy Paxman is a ferocious interviewer who doesn't give a toss who he upsets with his badgering questions. He was also no fool and likely to ask me things I didn't understand let alone know the answer to.

"I don't think so luv, he wants to get the best out of you and you have no reason to lie to him unlike politicians. We'll give him instructions to be gentle with you. So will you do it?"

"If he roughs me up then I will...."

"Don't worry luv, he's a sweetie really he is."

"That's what they used to say about Joe Stalin." I huffed and walked back to Simon who put his arm around me protectively.

They ordered some coffee and sandwiches and we were taken to a small room and asked about what would be too sensitive to talk about. To me everything was too sensitive. I let them think I was post op and Simon picked up on it quickly.

"When are you getting married?"

"When I've got my PhD."

"Why not before?"

"Do you know how much work is involved in one?"

"Oh is it? Still couldn't you do that as a married woman as easily as a single one?"

"I don't know, am I not allowed to decide for myself?" I countered.

"Of course you are. Look have something to eat and drink and we'll talk when Helen gets here."

"She had a point," said Simon.

"So do I, so eat your sandwich!" I snapped at him, "It's not you they want to interview and dismember on television."