The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2750 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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(Wow! Three quarters towards the third millennial episode – I don’t believe it.)

“What are you doing tomorrow?” I asked Simon as we loaded the dishwasher after dinner.

“There’s rugby on all over the weekend, the biggie tomorrow is England Wales at Twickenham.”

“When’s that?”

“In the evening, eight o’clock or something like that. Why?”

“Looks like I’ll have to do a dormouse survey of a wood near Petersfield.”

“Couldn’t you get one of your lackeys to do it?”

“If I could, would I be saying I had to do it?”

“What for this time?”

“Solar panel development—they want to clear fell a wood.”

“What are they, stupid?”

“No, probably greedy. Farmers find it easier to lease land for such things than cull badgers.”

“Can’t Natural England or whoever, stop them?”

“Who d’you think called the bat-phone?”

“Ah, don’t tell me you want me to do the survey for you?” He sniggered and I came close to saying something we’d both regret.

Instead I said, “Si, the last time you went dormousing you got shot. I’ve never actually shown you what you need to look for, so I doubt you’d be able to do it for me even if you wanted to.”

“So, you want me to babysit?”

“If you could. I’d need about three hours.”

He sighed, “Just this once, but I want to watch the England Wales Game undisturbed and Scotland on Sunday.”

“I’ll do what I can to facilitate that.”

“You got a deal.”

“Thank you, darling.” I kissed him and Trish came through saying something about, ‘get a room.’ Fortunately both of us laughed.

“Why don’t you take her with you tomorrow?”

“I could, possibly Danielle as well, she enjoys it.”

“I’m amazed she can see anything through all that mascara.”

“She’s a teenager, they do things like that.”

“Did you?”

“I did when I had the chance, which wasn’t very often.”

“I keep forgetting—sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

“Didn’t I see some pictures of you with Siân at Weston Super Mare on some donkeys?”

“I thought I’d hidden those.”

“I could only see two young women.”

I blushed my reply.

“And there was that one of you shovelling muck from wotsisface’s house.”

“Marc Absolom.”

“Yeah him—he came to dinner, didn’t he?”

“I didn’t have any makeup on in either of those photos. In fact I wasn’t in girl mode in either until, in the first I fell in the mud at the beach and ended up in Siân’s spare clothes and in the second, Marc’s mother mistook me for a girl because of my long hair.”

“Babes, she didn’t mistake you for a girl—it was the others being blind or dumb in mistaking you for a boy. There was no boy there, you are and always have been female—just the plumbing was wrong.”

I shrugged—I so wanted to agree with him—I did agree with him, but lots of my contemporaries would not have done—then they enjoyed what they thought was queer-bashing. Got news for ya fellahs, you were wrong and Marc’s mother was right.

The next morning, Danielle, Trish and I set off to do the survey. I had all my usual stuff including my camera. We arrived at the woodland and heard heavy machinery. To our dismay there were men taking down trees with diggers. I called Helen Madison who said she’d get there as soon as she could and to ask them to stop.

I left the girls standing by the car and walked up to the man who seemed to be in charge. “Get lost, darlin’ this is no place for girlies walking their dogs.”

“Please stop your felling immediately?”

“I’ve got a job to do, so get lost before I have you removed for your own safety.”

“Look here, you supercilious moron, this work is illegal until I’ve done a survey.”

“Oh yeah, and who might you be?”

“Professor Cathy Watts from Portsmouth University.”

“Survey for what? If you’ve come to hug a tree missus, you’re too late.”

“Dr Helen Maddison is on her way here from Natural England. If you don’t wait for her before you fell anything else, I’ll happily give evidence in a court of law and see you bankrupted as well as fined for every potential dormouse you’ve disturbed.”

“You’re that dormouse woman, aren’t you?”

“What of it?”

“Bloody things are more important than keeping the lights on are they?”

“If you think a few solar panels are going to make much difference in the general scheme of things, you must be more stupid than I thought.”

“I’d have thought you’d have been in favour of them, being into nature an’ all.”

“I am in the right place, but this isn’t it.”

“Well the council seems to think it is.”

“They do what Natural England tells them.”

“Too bad she’ll be too late, innit?” he laughed and nodded at the driver of the digger which smashed down an ash tree and went on destroying several smaller trees.

“I shall see you ruined.”

“Won’t save your wood.”

I called the police and as soon as they heard my name they said they’d send a car. He heard me talking to the police and became a little more conciliatory. “There’s no need for the police, I’m sure we could sort this between us.”

“Like some of these trees, it’s too late. I’m going to make sure you pay for your patronising and bullying attitude.”

“How d’you plan to do that—it’s just a misunderstanding between us?”

“Is it now, my recorder won’t agree with that.”

“You can’t use that in court, you tricked me.”

“I asked you politely to stop, you refused. I told you to stop and you told your man to continue destroying trees. Some of these trees are over a hundred years old, if left alone they’d be here long after your stupid solar panels have given up the ghost. You have vandalised this woodland, I’m going to ask Dr Maddison to prosecute you.”

“It won’t work, they never do and I’ll put the word out that you wasted your time, Professor or whatever you are.”

“To you, I may as well be called Nemesis, because I’m going to make it my business to make you pay for your patronising and bullying behaviour.”

“Yeah, sure. When the cops get here I’m gonna make them escort you away. This is no place for women and their children, so go home.”

“I think you might be somewhat disappointed you arrogant little pipsqueak.”

“You are really funny, you know that—not shorta balls—but funny.”

“She who laughs last laughs longest.”

I was aware of one of his workers making a call, probably to the landowner or someone similar. Minutes later as the stand-off continued a police car arrived followed by Helen’s Land Rover.

In the ensuing discussion, the contractor was told to desist and he refused. The landowner arrived and ordered everyone from the land except his contractors. To her credit, Helen stood her ground and I supported her. The contractor started shouting at her and a scuffle started with the landowner, a farmer, pushing her over. The young copper, who must have been six foot three or four arrested him and dragged him off to the police car. I helped Helen up and the contractor came rushing at me yelling abuse, Danielle intervened and tripped him up, he ended up face down in the mud. On rising from this with everyone laughing at him he rushed at me again and I let him come then tipped him over my hip whereupon the second copper grabbed him and arrested him as well. Helen told the workforce to leave or face arrest as well. They eventually sloped off in a very sullen manner.

“Have you got time to still do a survey, Cathy?”

“You coming to watch?” I invited her.

“Yeah, might as well.”

“Girls, this is Helen. Helen, this is Danielle and the younger one is Trish. Let’s go and find some dormice.”