The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2617 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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The British Museum (picture courtesy of Wikipedia)
“What on earth is a you-not?” asked James as we strolled through the galleries.

“Someone with no nadgers,” said Trish smirking.

He paused for a moment then got her meaning. I wasn’t sure if she knew the word eunuch, it was probable, she just enjoyed mangling words and tormenting her audience. It was an indirect way of exerting control. I just about managed to stay one step ahead of her mostly guessing correctly the words she had really mangled from those where she was playing games.

I spotted Tatiana with Nikola and waved, she hurried over to meet us. James was now watching from nearby but pretending to be an ordinary punter. We found a small alcove with some seats being vacated by a family who sounded like they were German—at least that was what I thought they were speaking. Grabbing the seats quickly, Nikola’s mother explained what I was going to do. The child, about Trish’s age looked at me and said, “Angel,” and smiled. Trish smiled back at her and told her she would be all right.

“I told her you were angel,” explained Tatiana, “she happy for you to do cure.”

I nodded then closing my eyes began drawing down the blue energy. James had joked for me not to do the healing in the Ancient Egypt gallery as the mummies would get up and walk out before I’d finished. Trish giggled at that walking round pretending to be a zombie—not that I’d know one from his gait, or Trish’s attempts to do a Michael Jackson moonwalk. Now it was down to business.

I asked the energy to remain invisible to all but those who needed to see it. I could feel its movement but not see it and it was flooding into the young woman’s body at quite a lick. She exclaimed something in Russian and slumped into her mother’s arms. “Don’t worry,” I reassured her mother and placed my hands over her eyes and the back of her head. There was a horrible burning smell and the energy incinerated the tumours. The whole thing took about half an hour and we parted in the museum, me giving Tatiana instructions on how to deal with her. Basically, she would need to sleep for a few hours, have plenty of water to drink and then further rest. She would be back to her normal self in a day or so.

She called us back, “He knows where we are, we have transmitters implanted. If he sees you, he kill you for sure.”

“It might be more than his knickers which catch fire next time if he tries anything.” I’d scanned the youngish man who offered to help Tatiana and her child. Of course the police stood out like sore thumbs so did the Russian agents. James was on the case and one of the Russians, who presumably walked too close to him and got himself jabbed with a needle; he went out like a light.

We escaped a few minutes later, grabbing our coats and bags as we went. James followed discreetly, removing another agent with a little help from his set of syringes.

I don’t know if they even saw him and he walked briskly out from the main entrance and we hurried down the stairs at the front of the Palladian facade. A taxi was just dropping a fare so we commandeered it and set off for Charing Cross.

“This place brings back memories,” said James as we alighted from the cab.

“You didn’t have an operation, did you? Gasped Trish.

“Only to fix the bits your mother left undone.”

“But you told me you couldn’t do the operation with blue light?” she accused me.

“James hasn’t had that sort of operation, silly, he was somewhat perforated by a gang of hoodlums not too far from here and I helped keep him alive until the paramedics came.”

“Don’t believe a word of it, young Trish, I had so many holes in me that if they’d attempted to transfuse me, I’d have looked like a watering can.”

“Like they do in the cartoons?”

“Exactly like that. Your miracle mum managed to somehow plug them so that by the time the blue light brigade arrived I was still alive and hardly bleeding.”

“Did you ever get that awful gun back?”

“Oh yes, and it is well secreted somewhere.”

“It was a huge thing, Trish, it fired a bullet through the engine of the car and killed the driver. The noise was deafening, my ears were ringing for half an hour later.”

“Is that when you borrowed the Porsche?” asked Trish.

“Yes, its rightful owner was in hospital so didn’t exactly need it and it would have run up huge parking fines, besides I needed a lift home—so I borrowed it.”

We made our way up to high dependency, Sammi had been transferred there and had managed to persuade a nurse to send me a text. I had her phone, her iPad and a clean nightdress in my bag.

I sent Trish in while we spoke to the sister on the unit. She was carrying the new nightdress I’d bought a day or two before, when I got Trish a new one. I could hear Sammi oohing and ahing from the nurse’s station. I explained to the sister what the noises were all about and she rolled her eyes. “It’s just a nightdress, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

“Perhaps I’d better investigate,” she walked off to see Sammi.

“So a couple more days then?” said James repeating what the sister had said. Sammi was making a full recovery and doubtless Trish was shoving in some more of the blue stuff as we strolled up to Sammi’s bed in small private room.

We chatted and I handed over her hardware but reminded her she was on sick leave and not to contact the bank. “But who’s going to maintain the firewall?”

“It’s been done,” I said and Trish smirked.

“You’re not?”

Trish smirked and nodded.

“You didn’t?”

Trish nodded again.

“How could you?”

“You showed me a couple of weeks ago, you told me to hack it and I did, remember?”

“Yeah, well I had to leave one flaw in it so it had something to correct.”

“It didn’t, I had to do it yesterday.”

Sammi shook her head and wailed, “Noooo.”

“What’s the matter, darling?”

“The bank let her play with my toys.”

“She did a good job according to Gramps.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“I don’t want your job, silly.”

“You don’t?”

“Nah, I’m after Gramps’ job.” We all laughed at this but she might have been serious. We spent about an hour with Sammi who said she’d text as soon as she was coming home and I promised we’d collect her.

That was until we had a spot of bother leaving the hospital involving some more people with Russian accents.