The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2740 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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Tom came by for me at the appointed time and we went in my car to his usual venue where he ate his usual fare and I had my tuna jacket with some cranberry juice—the drink was separate and in a glass—honestly.

I told him about Sam Rose’s call and what Trish had been up to. “She’s a real character, that lassie.”

“She just doesn’t see consequences.”

“Och, she’s barely moor than a bairn, whit d’ye expect?”

“When she’s involved I expect almost anything and often the worst case scenario. She runs rings around her peers, her teachers and me. What she’ll be like as a teenager, I hate to think.”

“Whit were ye like as a teenager?”

“A mass of contradictions and complexes. I’m honestly surprised that I survived my adolescence.”

We waited while the food was brought. “It soonds as if ye’d a perfectly normal youth.”

“Oh come off it, I spent half my life trying to avoid being beaten up by the school bullies or my father.”

“Aye, that wis unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate, I’m lucky all my organs still function and I didn’t lose any limbs.”

“Aye but it taught you a great deal.”

“Yeah, if I stayed in swotting all the time I didn’t get hurt.”

“Ye also got a first.”

“Only because there wasn’t much else to do, especially when I went away to Sussex. I wonder what would have happened if I’d started the process of transition there.”

“None o’ this wud hae happened.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Ye widnae hae got a first, for sterters.”

“How can you know that?”

“Ye’d hae spent all yer time an’ money on yer transition, an’ ye’d hae been in great demand.”

“We might still have met though, with Esmond Herbert writing to you.”

“Aye, but wud he? He wrote because he wis worrit aboot ye. He also thocht ye were tae best student o’ that year.”

“He has good taste,” I beamed at him.

“Aye that he may, his academic judgement wis no sae clever though, wis it?”

“If that was the case how come you got me to organise the survey for you and got the university to appoint me in your absence?”

“Because ye dae whit I telt ye.”

“I beg your pardon,” it was at this point I saw his eyes twinkling and I knew I’d been had again, He chuckled loudly and then nearly choked on some of his curry—serve him right—the old curmudgeon.

“What d’you think I should say to Trish?”

“Explain tae her aboot unregulated drugs an’ herbal preparations an’ Sam Rose’s disquiet. Ye micht also try tae explain aboot not encouraging people tae dae things afore they’re deemed ready by an expert.”

“Perhaps I’ll just refer her on to you, you seem to have all the answers.”

“Oh na ye dinnae, I’m no her maither, that’s yer job, it’s part o’ the privilege o’ parenthood.”

“There’s me thinking it was one of the privileges of being a grandparent.”

“Och, ye scunner.” He paid the bill so I didn’t make him walk back to the university.

The afternoon was just as busy as the morning with two conference calls about the survey and a tutorial with one of my post grad students who is very hard work. It’s so difficult to get any conversation out of him, even when I ask for an update on his research. He’s doing a project about density of muscadinus populations compared to densities of oak an sycamore respectively. Personally, I doubt there’ll be a huge difference, but I’ve been wrong before.

Diane had to interrupt for some files which are kept in my office and she could see me struggling. Afterwards she said, “Have you thought of getting Graham to tell Trish about his project?”

“The point of which would be?”

“Cathy, he’s terrified of you.”

“Of meeee?” I squeaked.

“Yes, let’s face it you’re sophisticated, rich and beautiful—he’s scared to death of you. It’s like sitting next to a goddess.”

I roared with laughter but she didn’t join me. “You’re taking the piss, right?”

“No, I’m deadly serious. People were scared of you when you were a kid because you were clever and dressing as a boy freaked them out somewhat. So glad you stopped doing that. Get this Trish of yours in and get her to spin some yarn about doing a project on trees, get him to explain his research to her and see what happens.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“When I was at UWE we had a reader there who was supervising a master’s student and he was terrified of her, until she heard him talking about what he was doing to her secretary, someone he wasn’t intimidated by—she only had a bachelor of arts degree in graphic design.”

“So you helped supervise him then?”

“Only until he gained some confidence, then they got on without me.”

“So why aren’t you offering to help me with Graham?”

“In Bristol, the reader was fifty odd but very potently sexy with it. She tended to flirt with all the men which was mad because she was gay. However they seemed to find her alluring and fascinating and she used that for all she was worth. It didn’t however work with this one chap, he was overwhelmed until he got used to her.”

“Helped by you.”

She shrugged, “I try to help when I can.”

“If you want to look at the brochures we have with a view to improving them, given your expertise in design, feel free.”

“If I have time, at present I’m running to stand still, so much to learn about looking after you and the others.”

“It was just a suggestion.”

“For which thank you.”

“I like to use my education—only for doing the Guardian crossword—you understand.”

“Perfectly.”

“I’ll speak to Trish’s headmistress, see if I can get an hour or so off school for her to speak to Graham.”

I went to collect the girls soon afterwards speaking quickly with Sister Maria who thought it was a wonderful idea. Once at home I told her about what I wanted her to do regarding Graham.

“Why have I got to talk to him?”

“You haven’t, I’ll ask Livvie, she’s next on my list.”

“I’ll do it, just wondered why, that’s all.”

“He’s nervous of me.” She thought that was hilarious and took several moments to stop laughing.

“You’re serious, Mummy.”

“Yes. Look, he’s a post graduate student with a reasonable 2:1...”

“He’s not as clever as you though, is he?”

“It isn’t about cleverness, it’s about helping fulfil his potential. He thinks I’m cleverer than he is and it makes him nervous. Because you’re younger than he is, he’ll probably feel more confident with you—so I don’t want you wittering on about Quantum mechanics and unified field theory—okay?”

“Okay, just orbital resonance,” she giggled and I glowered at her which made her worse. Meanwhile, Diane phoned Graham and asked if he could help a young student with a project about trees. He was reluctant but she cajoled him into it and forgot to mention it was my daughter who wanted his help.

I’m beginning to appreciate how he feels in being outgunned by someone, in my case it could be my secretary.