The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2621 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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Later that evening we had a visitor, a man from the Foreign and Commonwealth Office who told us that the Russian government had recalled the ambassador for instructions—diplomatic speak for to carpet him. This chap also thought all his gang of thugs had been recalled too.

“But the government were responsible for what had happened not just the ambassador.”

“Yes but if his task was to kill or kidnap someone, he failed. They don’t do failure.”

“What about his wife and daughter?”

“This is hush hush, but they’ve applied for asylum here.”

“He used to knock her about, didn’t he?”

“You asking me or telling me?”

“Bit of both.”

“I think so.”

“I can’t tolerate men who hit women.”

“Lady Cameron, I think these days most people would agree with you, in this country anyway; although there is too much domestic violence still.”

“What is it, one woman a week is killed by domestic violence.”

“Something like that, I believe,” he agreed with me.

“Welcome to the twenty first century where people still believe in Father Christmas and the physical intimidation of half the population by the other.”

“My daughter in law is a feminist,” said Henry, “but it’s a view I share.”

“Good for you, Gramps,” offered a certain small person.

The man from the F.O. gave her an astonished look but potentially being in a minority of one kept his opinions to himself. After a moment’s reflection he added quietly, “Having worked in countries where the Taliban held sway, I think I prefer your ideology.”

“So we should be free from the attacks we’ve suffered recently?” I tried to clarify.

“Naturally I can’t guarantee it, but yes you should be safer.”

“Does that mean we won’t need bodyguards?”

“I don’t think I could comment that directly.”

“I think for the moment, the bank will cover the costs of James and his friends until we know for certain the threat has receded.” Henry seemed to think it was better to take precautions for the present.

I wondered about Tatiana and Nikola and how safe they would be given their defection from her husband might be seen as an insult and he didn’t strike me as someone who’d take that without some form of revenge, which with his record of violence against one if not both of them meant they were at some risk.

I asked the civil servant if they’d be safe as I was concerned for them.

“The mother has requested asylum here but may be looking to live abroad somewhere. As all of this is very confidential and her safety together with her daughter’s is paramount, I can’t say more. But they are in a safe house at the moment until more permanent arrangements are possible.”

I thanked him and soon after he left, Trish asked, “You weren’t going to invite them to live with us, were you?”

“Uh—no, I was just concerned for them.”

“Pity, I coulda learned Russian.”

“I think that would be possible via more conventional channels.”

“What, school?”

“Yes,” for what they charge every term.

The next morning, Sammi was discharged to my care and we collected her in my Jaguar with James sitting in as navigator and shotgun—he actually had one by the side of his seat, a pump action one. The drive home was uneventful and it was good to see all the others who nearly hugged us to death.

Simon and I had a hug and a kiss and the rest of them applauded to try and embarrass us. I blushed, but we kept on kissing just to annoy them. Stella and Tom with help from our two housekeepers and David had kept everyone well and Chas and Dave had kept the bogey men away.

As we sat down for a late lunch Mima came up to me and said quietly, “I’m gwad you home, Mummy, I missed you wots.”

We had a little hug and I replied, “I’ve missed you lots, too.” She pecked me on the cheek and went off satisfied. Cate came and hugged my leg like a randy Labrador, she’d missed me too. Lizzie, it seemed hadn’t quite so much but her Auntie Phoebe had been spending extra time with her which I was pleased to see.

Julie and Phoebe had continued to run their business despite the risks, closing just one day when Simon was kidnapped. I wasn’t sure how I felt about their courage but then I’ve done some pretty dumb things myself, so such defiance may run in both the family and our culture. Some of it might well be caused by a reaction to a period of bullying in school and of deciding to fight back by refusing to stop acting normally and going about one’s business. As it happened they were okay and the Russians were looking for bigger targets like Simon, Henry and myself, who are directors of the bank and Sammi who works for it.

She went off to rest after lunch and when I went to see how she was an hour later, she was at her computer redesigning the firewall and guess who was up with her? I hoped this time to learn not to try and sabotage her big sister’s career.

It was interesting that on the drive home, they were sitting in the back of the car together and Trish apologised to her sister for being jealous of her and her computer skills. It was something she did without any prompting from me or anyone else, as far as I knew, and something which gave me hope for her in the future.

Sammi was gracious in her response and they both hugged. James saw me smiling as we listened to them talking and he winked at me, smiling as well. Whether he put two and two together or knew the whole story I don’t know but his reaction was a good one.

I spent the remainder of the day in my study dealing with emails from Delia and told her I’d be in the next day. She reported that Tom had helped her with anything she wasn’t sure about, so there wasn’t quite as much paperwork as I might expect.

Another of my emails was from Erin. My harvest mouse film had been shown on Easter Monday and I’d been too busy to take much notice of it. The critics had once again been kind and it was considered as good as my dormouse film. Alan was delighted and sent me an email saying that the BBC were considering one on red squirrels next, was I interested. Erin had sent a similar one. Part of me thought, if Brian Cox can do whole series of programmes, then I should be able to as well, but I suspect I have more children to look after so my time was in less supply.

In the end I replied that I was quite interested in doing a film on Tufty especially as we could do some of the filming on Brownsea Island which is in Poole harbour and thus not too far away.

Tom had kept me some press cuttings, one of the nicest was being considered the Bettany Hughes of Natural History. To be compared with one of my heroines was praise enough for me, especially as she is another academic turned film maker/ presenter, who specialises in programmes about women in history. Considering women make up half the human population of the planet, it’s perhaps unfortunate that most of the history we see on television or read about relates to what men do or have done. The women are in a supporting role with a few exceptions like Elizabeth I of England, or Catherine the Great of Russia, Boudicca or Florence Nightingale; I was pleased that the balance was being slowly redressed a little by presenters like Hughes, who remind us that women can rise to the occasion too, when given the chance. A message I strongly support.