The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2806 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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I broached the subject of the loan to Julie and Phoebe. “I’m not at liberty to discuss financial matters about potential customers.”

“I think, as a fellow director, I have a right to know.”

“That’s a bit doubtful.”

“As the girls’ mother?”

“They’re of age—so even more dubious.”

“I could just threaten to kill you.”

“I won’t talk.”

“You sure about that?”

“Absolutely.”

“So if I were to grab these and squeeze...”

“All right, all right—bitch.”

He was sorting them a low interest loan, which he’d have told me about anyway until I asked about it—go figure. Sometimes I think men are more fickle than we are.

Anyway I hadn’t damaged his dangly bits too much but to be sure we gave them a test drive and once again he was asleep by the time I’d had a little wash. It always seems easier for men, or for most of them. They do less with the kids, or round the house and they just fall asleep after the act or should that after the fact? Whereas women have to do everything else. Okay so no one forced me to become one, except like all little girls, I knew I’d grow into one eventually. It was just that most people when I was younger weren’t aware of it. So no one forced me, unless you consider the force of nature or destiny.

The nights were definitely getting cooler and I cuddled into Simon. He’s like a radiator in bed. His arm draped over me and I felt safe, secure and loved. For all the silly games and occasional spats, we love each other dearly. I believe our family is as secure as many others and more so than some. Despite the fact that the children all adopted and half of them are transgender as are half their parents, we seem to have bonded as real family without some of the rivalries of natural siblings. The girls squabble but make it up afterwards.

I recollected Trish and Livvie going at it hammer and tongs when I interrupted and made them stop. The fight was over something totally trivial like choice of TV programme. I made them sit silently for five minutes the asked, “Now was the item you were fighting over really worth it?”

Trish wouldn’t meet my eyes. “No, Mummy.”

“Well was it, Livvie?”

“It was her fault...um no, Mummy.”

“What is it that makes us a family, not just a group of house mates?”

The both quietly said, “We love and help each other at all times, no matter what.”

“Do you understand what you just said?”

“Yes, Mummy,” they were both looking at the carpet with tears dripping off their noses.

“So shake hands and apologise for your part in the fracas.”

They shook hands and then hugged each other and apologised crying rivers over each other. It was quite touching and I had to swallow quite hard once or twice. Even lying here in bed my eyes felt moist.

The week slipped past, Amanda began to find her way round with David’s help though I kept telling myself I didn’t want them to become an item. David spoils all us younger women, especially my girls. Given his background I think he remembers how it felt to be ignored because he was originally a girl. Mind you, I frequently was ignored too and I was supposed to be a boy. As I drifted off to sleep, I realised even in those days he didn’t treat me quite the same as other boys I knew were treated by their fathers.

I always had to be home by a certain time or god help me. I was supposed to be neat and tidy and not get involved in horseplay or rough-housing. Do people still employ those terms? One of my friends suggested that Dad watched me like his dad did his sister. I pooh-poohed it at the time with possibly too much emphasis but secretly, I felt good. However, the one difference was Dad would lay on the corporal punishment at the slightest excuse. One day after I’d finished crying, my mother came and saw me, rubbing cream on my weals and told me it was how he was raised. My granddad, who died before I was a year old, was very strict with him but not Auntie Doreen. She used to twist round her little finger—one of the reasons my father hated her so much. She was a spoilt brat who got everything and he was someone who received frequent beatings simply for being a boy.

I tried to forgive him, I really did, but once or twice I felt I’d done nothing wrong and suddenly realised he beat me because he loved me, because it hurt him to do it and he was punishing himself by hurting someone he loved. And I thought I was screwed up.

Diane sent off my manuscript to the journal. It would be peer reviewed and then hopefully published. I did another tutorial with the boy who’d stormed out of my class and his attitude seemed to have changed significantly. I also discovered he was far cleverer than anyone realised, which may have been part of his problem. I began to challenge him and waited to see where it got us. I felt much happier.

That was until Thursday. The day before I noticed the date and realised it was my birthday, then moments later forgot. We had rather a stormy meeting about finances—university, not personal ones. I threatened to close my courses if they took any more money from them, especially the well funded ones.

“So how are we going to make up shortfalls?”

The whole truth was I didn’t really know. I research mammal ecology, I’m not a businesswoman and I told them so. I also reminded the financial team that I had lots of support and respect from other science departments.

On Thursday morning I remembered it was my birthday was my birthday when several young women burst into my room and woke me up with kisses and cards. I suspected Stella was responsible but I couldn’t prove it.

I got loads of cards, my students even got to know and I was presented with a box of chocolates—Lindt ones, my favourites and bouquet of flowers. I was flabbergasted. Some days I wonder why I do my job and on others I know why. My birthday was one of them. Daddy took Diane and I out for lunch, which I didn’t think I would enjoy but I did, though the flowers from the manager at the hotel were a bit OTT, which Tom said he knew nothing about. Wasn’t sure if I believed him.

The girls bought me all sorts of things like my favourite moisturiser and hand cream. Stella got me some new cycling gloves for when the cold weather started. It didn’t worry me, I didn’t have time to ride in good weather let alone poor.

We went to the hotel for dinner, giving all us girls a chance to slap on the makeup and best frocks which Henry paid for as my birthday present and Simon gave me a new plain gold necklace and matching bracelet, which was beautiful.

Just as we were about to sit down, Erin appeared and after dinner handed me a silver salver. My dormouse film won an award as nature film of the year. They all stood up and clapped while I sat there feeling as hot as a freshly roasted chicken.

It was nice but I still don’t know how to handle praise, perhaps I never will.