The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2384 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The weekend was fast approaching and I felt that this would be the calm before the storm which was due to take place on the Monday morning, or at least start there. Part of me was looking forward to getting some closure to this business, though I realised that could be weeks away. I was the injured party, so should have at least the advantage of the moral high ground, which was exactly what they’d been trying to erode. Hopefully, their efforts would result in the judge seeing through them and thus dealing with them in a suitable manner.

Basically, all I wanted was their undertaking not to come near me or mine again and an apology if I could get one. Their whole premise that I spent my life trying to turn boys into girls was a nonsense and I could prove that by calling Stephanie or Sam Rose to bear witness. They had provided written statements which we all hoped would be enough.

The weather which had been warm and sunny began to deteriorate and all the washing and gardening I’d been intending for the weekend got put on hold—well the gardening did, I decided that I smelt sweeter when my body and clothing were clean but I had to dry things indoors which is a bit of a pain compared to line dried clothing.

The weekend slipped by and for the Monday morning I wore a rather fitted green dress which showed off my curves, perhaps a little too well but I hoped would show my detractors that I was ‘all woman’, or as much as any boy could be. The dress was a Stella cast off with a designer label it would embarrass me to declare, but the same one was in the darker green linen and silk jacket I wore over the top. With this I wore emerald and gold earrings and my grandmother’s pearls.

Simon had had to go to work that day, some big management meeting, so he wasn’t available to accompany me, but the look Julie gave me at breakfast and what she said afterwards, tended to mean I’d achieved my objective. I was the wife of a Scottish aristocrat and a successful professional in my own right, I was portraying that in my own way.

“Geez, Mum, you look like a million dollars, or the clothes do.”

“I like the makeup, Mummy,” offered Phoebe.

The younger ones were equally impressed by my demonstration of wealth in heels, including the shoes I wore with higher than usually comfortable stiletto heels. I just hoped I didn’t fall off them walking to or from the court. I had a pair of flats in the car to drive in—driving in heels is potentially dangerous and usually scuffs the backs of the shoes.

I dropped the girls at school then drove to the courts and parked the car in a long stay car park, walking across the road to a coffee shop where Jason and I would hold a counsel of war before crossing back to the courts for the hearing.

“Goodness, Cathy, you look more elegant and lovely than ever,” gushed my learned counsel.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” I offered back.

“Going for the jugular then?”

“No, total decapitation.”

“Are you sure? Once we up the ante, it’s likely to get very messy.”

“That’s okay, I’m wearing red shoes, so the blood won’t show.”

We discussed our strategies and were broadly in accord. Given how mean they’d been since I’d offered to go to conciliation, I was quite happy for there to be much more evidence provided to show their perfidy. I was also hoping the judge would be equally irritated by them.

The court was closed to the press and public, a situation I believe is called ‘in camera’ and is in the gift of the judge to maintain or overturn.

The judge was Mr Justice Longcroft, a man with bright blue eyes and greying hair who was probably about fiftyish. He set out the purpose of the hearing as he understood it. “To effect some sort of conciliation between Lady Cameron and Ms Vallance and her associates. Lady Cameron has agreed that should Ms Vallance and her associates undertake to leave her and her family in peace in future and apologise for their outbursts and personal abuse of her, she would be prepared to forget the charges she was bringing against them.”

Jason agreed it was and the opposition agreed. On asking if there was anything to add, the judge allowed the opposition to go first. We had an idea of what to expect and weren’t disappointed.

“Your honour, we would hold that Lady Cameron, who was previously known as Charles Watts, seems to have this fascination with fostering children, frequently boys who somehow turn into girls even though they showed no sign or intention of doing so before staying with him, sorry, her.”

The judge took a deep breath, “As Lady Cameron is legally female, and is recognised as such by this court, I suggest any little slips such as the one I just witnessed, will be seen as puerile and treated with the contempt they deserve.”

“Very good, your honour, I apologise to you and Lady Cameron.” Jason nodded to the judge when he looked our way.

“Is there anything else?” asked the judge.

“Um—yes, your honour, my client’s niece, Emma Vallance, worked with Lady Cameron for several years and on a couple of occasions noticed her switching her computer off rather quickly as if to avoid having something seen by others. On one such occasion, she wasn’t quick enough and Emma saw what she was horrified to realise were photographs of children in sexually explicit poses.”

“Did she report this to the police?” asked the judge.

“Not at the time, your honour.”

“Why not, it’s a serious offence?”

“She felt that Lady Cameron’s power and wealth would stop justice being done.”

“Does she still feel that way?”

“I suspect she does, your honour.”

“Does that imply a lack of confidence in me as an instrument of the law?”

“Ah no, your honour, I’m sure she shares a respect for you as the others here today.”

“I do hope so, Mr Tottington.”

The judge then invited our side to speak. Jason rose to his feet and my tummy flipped. “If it would please the court, this new allegation of child pornography sounds very much a last ditch attempt to besmirch my client’s good name, undermine her position as a foster and adoptive mother and thus threaten the security of her children. We strongly refute any such claims and question why they weren’t raised before and made known to the authorities and answer the question by suggesting the whole matter is spurious and malicious.”

“It would be easy enough to verify, if Lady Cameron would allow examination of her computer by a police computer expert.”

My tummy flipped almost up to my throat, thereby pressing on my heart which was already in occupation of my oesophagus. “Yes, your honour.”

The judge spoke to an usher who went off to get my computer seized and examined. I hoped Sammi was as clever as she said she was and the police expert wasn’t. I’d left the spare key for the padlock with Pippa as I half expected it.

Jason continued, “Apart from the disturbance and defamation in front of a hundred or more of her students, Lady Cameron has had to endure someone illegally gaining access to her office at the university and after disturbing exam papers in a locked filing cabinet in a locked office, they withdrew and left the door and drawer open in an attempt to undermine her reputation for compliance with the rules of holding exam papers and their security. I suspect they were trying to get her suspended. In the light of this new allegation, I suggest if any pornography is found on the computer, then I would suspect it was added at the same time as this attack on her office.

“Subsequent investigations have identified the perpetrator of both these attacks and we have some evidence to support our claim.” He handed a file to the judge.

“I propose we adjourn for lunch and reconvene in three hours which I’m told is long enough for examination of the computer hard drive.”