The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 2062 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I decided that I didn’t want the reporter to know my mobile number, so called from the university. He was out so I left a message saying I would be available for one hour and that if he turned up at my home I would stick a shotgun up his backside and pull both triggers. The girl who took the message said she’d send him round this evening, but the way she was laughing suggested it was a joke.

He turned up at the university some half an hour later. “Thank you for seeing me, Dr Watts.”

“I’m only doing this so you have the facts of what happened. Nothing miraculous happened, I just raised the alarm because I saw the incident. A big fat bloke fell off the diving board and hit two people who were talking nearby. The one was a swimmer in the water, the other a lifeguard who was standing on the edge of the pool. The swimmer recovered quite quickly and got himself out of the pool, the lifeguard sank to the bottom of the pool and seemed motionless. I dived in and with the help from a young man, managed to pull him up to the surface and by then some more help had arrived and they hauled him out. An ambulance had been called and the paramedics resuscitated the man before he left the hotel. As far as I know he’s made a full recovery.”

“But you rescued him?”

“I helped, I didn’t do it by myself.”

“Who was the big bloke who caused the trouble?”

“I have no idea, nor of any of the other players.”

“So you spotted the problem, jumped in and saved him.”

“I told you, I didn’t act alone.”

“Others came to help?”

“Yes, I just told you that.”

“So you did; and you don’t know any of the others?”

“I just told you that.”

“Just confirming the point.” He seemed to think for a moment before saying, “It’s quite dangerous to be anywhere near you, isn’t it?”

“Only for gutter journalists.”

“Oh yes, very funny–I don’t think.”

“That’s it. I have to go. If you print anything I didn’t say and you attribute it to me, I’ll sue.”

“Why are you so aggressive?”

“I’m not, but I’ve seen your inventive writing before when you’ve described things which didn’t happen and so on. Even dramatic licence wouldn’t accommodate some of the things you’ve written, including accusing me of all sorts of things from being a monster to raising the dead–all of which are untrue. Do it again and I’ll sue.”

“I’m sure a lovely lady like you wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“Don’t push your luck, I have a very talented legal representative.”

“I don’t doubt it. Tell me, what d’you know about this woman who killed herself in hospital?”

“I know nothing about it, though I knew her while she was working at the university.”

“So there’s no truth in the story that you had her killed so you could keep her baby?”

“What? If you or anyone else prints a story like that I’ll sue them until I’ve taken every penny they own”

“So it’s not true you have the woman’s child?”

“Her sister in law has the baby as far as I know.”

“That’s not you?”

“No.”

“So who is the sister in law?”

“I have to go.”

“But you know who she is?”

“I’m leaving, Mr Jackson, so are you.” I almost pushed him out of the door and refused to say anything else. He always has to push his luck and today was no exception. I drove off to collect my children he was talking volubly to his mobile phone while sitting in his car.

“You’re late,” said Trish, her arms folded across her chest.

“You’re rude,” I replied.

“So what’s the excuse this time?”

“How dare you talk to me like this? I shall answer no further questions.”

“Why not–guilty conscience, eh?”

“Certainly not, and being the mother around here, and you are my child, I am actually in charge. So I make the decisions not you.”

“In denial are you?”

“Trish, this is getting old very quickly. You have two options: you can apologise now and stop this silly game you’re playing or you can carry on and find I will take punitive actions against you.”

“You’ll take puny actions?”

“Punitive–it means punishing.”

Suddenly the supercilious facade cracked and she burst into tears and accused me of always looking to punish her, which was patently untrue.

“Why were you late, Mummy?” asked Livvie.

“I don’t have to tell you, but because you asked so nicely, I will. I was talking to the press about the incident at the hotel on Sunday.”

“What the man you rescued in the pool?”

“Yes.”

“That was very brave, Mummy.”

“No it wasn’t, I’m sure anyone would have done the same.”

“It was, Mummy, we watcheded you,” offered Meems.

“Did you now?”

“Yes, we saw Danny help you.”

“Don’t tell anyone you saw him, will you?” I spoke to Meems but meant it applied to all of them.

“Why, Mummy?”

“Because I don’t want the press pestering him.”

“Okay, mummy.”

“I mean it, kiddos–okay?”

Livvie and Meems agreed, Trish sat scowling at me. If she was causing this amount of disruption already, what chance would I have when she became a teenager?”

On returning home I checked the echo story over the internet. There was whole pile of nonsensical stories in the echo claiming to be gospel truth but this time it seemed they had stuck to the outline I’d given them and Jackson was given the by line.

It still sounded far more dramatic than it was but at least they got my name right.