The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 2061 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Ah, jest thae person I wis lookin’ fa.”

“Hello, Daddy, and why were you looking for me?”

“Tae tak’ ye tae lunch.”

“I hear the press were about?”

“Aye, but we telt them ye’d flapped yer wings an’ pulled thon laddie frae thae pool.”

“You told them what?”

He roared with laughter, “Ye muckle great pudden, I telt them ye raised thae alarum an’ helped pull thae laddie frae thae pool.”

“You didn’t mention me diving in the water, then?”

“Ah, I micht hae done.”

“And dragged him out?”

“Aye, guilty as charged.”

“Daddy, I didn’t haul him out, Danny and I pulled him to the side and two of his colleagues pulled him out. You were asleep and missed it all.”

“Nae I wisnae, I saw most o’ it.”

“Okay, so did I take my dress off before or after I went into the pool?”

“Before, why?”

“Okay, I accept you might have seen it.”

“C’mon lassies, lunch, ma treat.” Pippa beamed at him and the three of us got into my car and set off for his usual lunchtime haunt.

“The usual, Professor?” asked the manager, and Tom nodded. “And for you, Lady Cameron?”

“Please.”

“With Earl Grey?”

“Fine, thank you.”

“And you, madam?” he addressed Pippa.

“Tuna salad would be fine for me, too, and an orange juice, please.”

We settled down and Tom asked me about the exam invigilation. I reported that it was as boring as ever and thankfully nothing untoward had happened. The problem with these smart phones is that lots of information could be available online and accessible to any smart operator–but in the end you’re only cheating yourself if you gain something by unfair means be it a degree or Le Grand Boucle. If a male student had asked to go to the loo, I’d have had to call a male member of staff to accompany him to ensure no cheating happened. Mind you if a female student had wanted to go, I’d have had to call for help again, as I obviously couldn’t leave the examination room.

After we started tucking into lunch, Tom asked me what I wanted to do about the press? I was tempted to give a silly answer, but his wasn’t a silly question. I asked him if he knew who’d reported the incident, but he knew as little as I did. I told him I’d call Jackson later if I had time.

I’d literally just finished eating and laid my cutlery down when my mobile rang. I answered it with slight suspicion only to discover it was Dr Smith. I made excuses and took my call outside.

“How can I help you, Cathy?”

“I know you can’t break patient confidentiality...”

“But what?” he interrupted.

“Neal Allen is a patient of yours and I thought he might do better at the clinic Stella attended than he is at the hospital.”

“And?”

“Well, if I can arrange funding, would you consider referring him there?”

“Why the beneficence?”

“I’m babysitting for him at the moment, his sister Phoebe lives with us, so when we heard about Gloria’s original hospitalisation, we took the baby until she came out again. She told me the same day that she died she would collect the baby when she felt better but she had a few things to attend to so could I continue looking after little Lizzie. I could hardly say no, could I?”

“Okay, so you’re fostering the baby, why send him to the clinic?”

“So he could get well enough to look after his own child.”

“That doesn’t sound like you, Cathy, you usually love children?”

“I still love children, but I think it’s unfair on Neal that he could miss out on so much if he doesn’t care for his own daughter. He loves her to bits and this is just so sad, the poor kid is the loser, to lose her mum when just months old and to effectively lose her dad as well is such a tragedy.”

“Yes it is, but she’s lucky to have you and Phoebe to help her. Have you spoken to Social Services?”

“Neal asked me to have her as did Gloria, do I have to speak with them?”

“I suppose they ought to know how well you care for your children, so they shouldn’t have any worries and it was a private arrangement, involving his sister.”

“She isn’t an adult yet, does that make a difference?”

“Possibly, but given that you are and I’d trust you with anything, Cathy, so I’m happy to say I think you’re very capable of caring for the child as would Sam Rose.”

“But that isn’t involving her dad, is it?”

“He’s not at all well from what I last heard, poor chap. Who’d have thought she’d do something like that?”

“It’s a real tragedy, Dr Smith.”

“It is indeed. Okay, I’ll make some enquiries about transferring him, I know his consultant quite well, see what he thinks about a transfer, mean time if you can give me a written undertaking to underwrite the costs of his treatment at the clinic, I’ll see what I can do and get back to you.”

“I’ll speak to Simon this evening.”

“Okay, everyone well with you?”

“Yes they’re fine thank you, though I think I need a repeat prescription for my oestrogen.”

“I’ll get them to send one to the chemist–Boots, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed.”

“Okay, leave it a couple of days and it should be there.” He rang off and I went back to the table only to find my tea was cold. Tom called for a fresh pot and Pippa decided to have one as well.

“Who gets the exam papers first?” Pippa asked me.

“Oh let Martin have them first, I’ll get them when he’s finished, if he could bring them back to you and you let me know...”

“Yes, okay, I’ll call him when we get back.”

“You going on holiday this year?” I asked her.

“Yes, a week at Butlins at Minehead, last week in July. You going anywhere?”

“Si wants to go up to Stanebury.”

“To the castle?”

“Yeah, I can’t stand the place.”

“Well, let’s face it, not many have a castle as their holiday home.”

“I wish we didn’t either, it’s huge, it’s cold and it’s haunted.”

“What–like with a ghost?” her eyes were as big as saucers.

“What else would haunt it?”

“Um, I dunno.”

Tom was smirking.

“And you can cut that out too, or I’ll make you come with us,” I threatened him.

“Oh no ye don’t,” he snapped back, “last time I wis there it wis fu’ o’ Russian paratroopers.”

“I don’t think they were paratroopers as such, but several were Russian.”

“It wis like a clay pigeon shoot.”

“I must admit it’s another reason why I don’t want to return there–too many bad memories.”

“Aye, I can see that,” he agreed.

“C’mon, let’s get back and I’ll phone this Jackson bloke from my office.”