The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2819 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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“So, is he going to cause you any trouble?” asked Simon as we lay in bed together.

“Who knows, possibly not if I behave myself.”

He chuckled. “I can just see that happening.”

“What d’ya mean?” I pouted.

“You—you’ll do what you’ve always done.”

“What’s that?”

“Whatever you like.”

“Well you can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“I wonder how you’d have been before all this emancipation of females.”

“Not sure I want to be on the front line which is what dozy Dave is talking about, I’d settle for equal pay in every job.”

“You get equal pay don’t you—in the public sector, I mean?”

“Not everywhere, remember that case back last year when some cleaners found out the men got half as much again as the women.”

“Vaguely, from that point of view we pay the same regardless of gender, however bonuses are paid for results.”

“What if you lose more money you get paid more?”

“Yes—what, er no, that is not what I meant and you know it.”

I smirked, most of the time he let me run rings round him.

“That dress looked really nice—tonight, I mean.”

“Thank you, mind you it should for four thousand quid.”

“Quite,” there as short pause; “How much?” to emphasis the fact he sat up in bed.

“Four K, why?”

“It didn’t cost that did it?”

“It’s all hand sewn, Stella took me to some woman whose daughter she was in school with or something. Upper class dress designer.”

“Still four grand, that’s one hell of a lot for a bloody dress.”

“Yeah could get a nice carbon bike for that.”

“I’ll bet you could. Still, you’re wearing it on Friday to the bank’s do?”

“No, got an even nicer one for that, cost six grand, but you’ll love me in it.”

“You spent ten grand on bloody dresses? Jesus aitch Christ.”

“Well you told me I had to look like an aristocrat’s wife. You’ll love the other one, it’s red and...”

“I can’t believe you spent that much on dresses.”

“I only did what you told me to do.”

“I’m surprised the bank didn’t phone me.”

“Oh Stella got a call while I was trying on the second one, shall I show it to you?”

“Not tonight, you’re really getting into this lady of the manor stuff aren’t you?”

“This woman is making all my clothes from now on—I’ll give the old stuff to Julie or Sammi. She reckons she could do me a basic wardrobe for about fifty.”

“Fifty thousand?”

“Yes, good isn’t it?”

“I might have to sell the bank to pay my wife’s dressmaker’s bills, yeah really good.”

“Don’t be such a wet blanket, you complained that I never took the high life seriously enough, so here I am—I’m seeing the gossip coloumnist from the Daily Mail on Monday.”

“You’re telling me fibs aren’t you?”

“Who me? Cross my heart to lift and separate,” I crossed my fingers just in case.

“Yes you, missus,” he suddenly leant over and started to tickle me. In seconds I was squealing and asking him to stop. “So how much were these dresses?” he said giving me a tiny tickle.

“How did you guess?” Duh—ten grand for two dresses, obvious I was taking the proverbial, innit?

“You went too far.”

“What with the cost?”

“No, no matter how much you wanted to play Lady Bountiful, you’d never talk to the DM. You’d speak with the Guardian first.”

“True—yeah okay, I made up that bit. But the dresses were a snip, weren’t they.”

“I’ll tell you when the bills come in.”

“I fibbed a bit there, too.”

“Why you,” he began tickling me again until I wriggled so much I fell out of bed and then had to run to the toilet.

“Pig,” I called as I trotted to the en suite. He just lay back laughing.

When I got back to bed he pretended he was asleep until i wiped the wet flannel across his bum. Boy did he jump—then swore and chased me round the bedroom. I won’t say what happened after that but the next morning I was walking a bit funny but my glower stopped Trish in mid sentence. She was ready to go to school early again, I wasn’t I was sore, tired and hadn’t had my breakfast. However, what Trish wants she generally gets and I grabbed some bread on the way from school to the university, from a little baker’s shop I’d passed loads of times but never stopped and gone in before. I got a banana as well, so my usual breakfast would just be slightly delayed.

As we munched our charred bread Diane asked me if she could watch me do a normal lecture. “Why? Unless you’re into my stuff or have to sit through them, they’ll bore you to death—honest.”

“That isn’t what the others say.”

“What others?”

“They say don’t teach, you perform.”

“And who are these others—drama critics, perchance?”

“Very funny—I’m trying to be serious. I want to be the best secretary you’ve ever had and I feel by seeing you in action will help me understand you and what you do, how you tick.”

“Crikey, that’s going to be like having the Stasi watching me.”

“Don’t be so silly, your kids do it all the time so they can learn how to grow up into young women.”

“Why are they watching me, I’ve only been doing this a few years?”

“Very funny, I thought you said you were a girl with a plumbing problem not a woman inside a man’s body?”

I’d been outmanoeuvred again, now I knew what Simon felt last night.

“All right, I have a tutorial in an hour, you can sit in on that as well.

“No no, can’t do that far too busy,” and with that she sashayed out of my office leaving me wiping crumbs off my hands and face.

An hour and a half later I begged her for another cup of tea—how George was going to get a doc phil completely passed me by. He doesn’t listen when I’m giving him advice, he pretends he has but he’s either deaf or stupid. Perhaps he is deaf, must check that out. As I rose to speak to Diane she walked into my office and plonked the mug of tea with a mince pie on my desk.

“Ooh, mince pies, lovely—thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Did you speak to George just now?”

“Only to make his next tutorial, why?”

“Any problems?”

“Like...?”

“Could he be deaf?”

“What?”

“Could he...” I started to repeat and she ran out laughing. She’s going to have to go but I’m glad she wasn’t in the tutorial it was painful enough for me and they pay me a bit more than her.

“Mind if I disappear a bit early tonight, boss lady?”

“Ask Pippa if she’ll take my calls.”

“I um can’t.” She blushed and for the first time looked slightly flummoxed, I was going to enjoy this, I hoped.

“Why not?”

“She’s going to the same do as me.”

“What’s that?”

“We underlings have decided that we can have a do as well as you overpaid lot.”

“Where?”

“Southsea.”

“Oh, where abouts?”

“The Green Room, why?”

“Food is very good there.”

“So Pippa said, she got us some discount, too.”

“I expect she did.”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Know why?”

“Not really.”

“My pa in law owns it, or the bank does.”

“What? Is there anything you don’t own or control round here?”

“A few things but I’m working on it.”