The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2859 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 eventually managed to get parked—at the rate things were going—the days passing faster than the oiks out in cars, I’d be a year older and still nowhere near the shops. I don’t dislike shopping, just having to do it amidst a collection of brain vacated zombies who always seem to get there first.

If I had told anyone that i wanted to come shopping on my own because I wanted to touch something first rather than buy it online, they’d assume I was buying a bike or a book—those that knew me. Those who didn’t, would probably suggest it was clothing or a personal item, like jewellery or a watch, even a bag.

It was a personal item, but not for me. I found my way into the nicest stationers we have in Portsmouth and spoke with the lady behind the desk. She showed me several items and I chose one. It cost me more than the internet would have done but I felt happy with it. While I was there I bought a new ballpoint pen for all the girls and I got ten per cent discount for buying a dozen. I would have bought fountain pens but they already had them and they didn’t use them very often—I did more than them and I tended to use pencil except for signing letters.

In the jewellers I bought Danielle a nice silver charm bracelet and had them add a ball and boot to it. If she got picked for England, I’d give it to her to celebrate the fact, if she was passed over, I would give it to her as a consolation. It came with a nice presentation box. The girls could all buy her another charm for her birthday and with so many sisters, it would probably be too heavy in a couple of years to lift her arm up. I chuckled at my silliness and some woman walking alongside me gave me a very peculiar look.

I looked back smiling and said, “It’s the voices you know, one of them just told me a dirty joke—wanna hear it?”

“Certainly not,” she said and dived into a shop. I chuckled some more and continued my shopping.

It was lunchtime when I got home and Simon seemed less than pleased. “You could have told us you were going out—where have you been?”

“I went shopping.”

“What for?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not especially but it’s unusual for you to go without an escort.”

“This isn’t Saudi Arabia, women are still free to come and go by themselves—for the moment at least.”

“I know that, I meant you usually have a gaggle of girls with you.”

“Which was why I decided to go shopping when I saw they were all out with you.”

“That’s fine, did you enjoy yourself?”

“Immensely.” That felt strange. I’d always preferred to go with someone but today I wanted my own space.

“Good, I’m glad. You’ll be pleased to learn that we went to feed the ducks.”

“What with?”

“Tom found some stale bread, we took that.” My expression changed. “Did we do something wrong?”

“Possibly not, but I suspect you might have used the bread David was going to use for either stuffing or breadcrumbs.”

“Damn,” he said and shrugged.

“I’m sure he’ll calm down eventually.”

Simon disappeared I suspect to get a bottle of wine to placate our wonder cook. I know David did drink it from time to time. I heard him bashing about in the kitchen and after explaining what had happened he simply shook his head in disbelief. I told him to look as if he was sulking when either Tom or Simon were about and he’d get a better offer to compensate him. Serve them right, they rarely ever look in the fridge, except to get the milk out for tea or coffee, so why did they do so that morning? I wasn’t sure Simon actually recognised which of the appliances it was.

After lunch was over, David told me he’d grumbled to Simon that the girls had pinched his bread for stuffing, and Simon said he’d have words with the girls and presented him with a very nice bottle of burgundy. David was more than happy. Tom who’d actually taken the bread, told you Simon wouldn’t recognise a fridge, also coughed up a nice bottle of wine when I told him what he’d done. David was well pleased with his haul as it would start his wine collection.

During the afternoon, I wrote the card I’d purchased and wrapped the present, then put them together in a paper bag and slipped them into my computer bag. I also wrapped Danielle’s bracelet and popped that in the drawer of my desk. I had to buy to cards for her, a congrats one in case she was picked, plus a commiserations one in case she wasn’t.

Then picking up the bag of pens, I went round the girls distributing them. I’d spent quite a lot of money that morning and was pleased to see the girls appreciated what I’d got them.

The next day it was back to work and normality, whatever the latter was. Although I was earlier than usual, quite deliberately, Diane was there before me—I still had the school run to do and it took time. “Tea?” called Diane as I wandered in and I nodded and went to my office.

I noticed my door said, ‘Professor Catherine Watts,’ the sign was new. I’d ask Diane about that when she brought the tea in and meanwhile took the card and wrapped gift from my computer bag.

“Tea,” she announced coming through the door with a mug in one hand and a pile of post in the other.

“Is that sign new,” I nodded towards the door.

“Yeah, they did it last thing on Friday, orders from the Vice Chancellor.”

“Since when did he get involved in naming offices.”

“I think this was a one off.”

“Really?”

“Yes—the message I got was he confirmed your appointment as you hadn’t caused any ripples like you both agreed.”

“I didn’t promise him anything.”

“He seemed to think you had.”

“The fact is, we’ve been so busy since the beginning of term I haven’t had the time or energy to challenge him on anything, nor opportunity. But we’ll let him confirm my appointment and then see what happens. If I’m a contracted professor it makes it harder to get rid of me.”

“Uh, I think the letter is in this lot. She plonked the pile of paper on my desk.”

“Oh, happy birthday,” I said offering her the card and present.

“How did you know?”

“Your file is in here, remember?”

“Of course. I didn’t know you ever read them.”

“I don’t except I keep a list of birthdays on my iPad, yours wasn’t on it so I did the research.”

“I’m impressed, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She left and there was a squeal from her office. A moment later she came dashing back in. “You can’t give me this,” she said waving the box about.

“Why not—don’t you like it?”

“Like it, I love it.”

“Well then, go and play I have work to do.”

She gave me the evil eye for that remark. “This far too expensive.”

“Isn’t that my decision not yours.”

“Not if I don’t accept it.”

“You already did.”

“I didn’t know what was in it then.”

“Tough.”

“Cathy, I don’t know what to say.”

“You already said thank you, now go and make some of my students suffer or something useful.”

“It’s really beautiful.”

“Like its owner, now go.”

“Are you sure—you know—it’s so valuable.”

“It’s only silver, now go—I have work to do.”

“Thank you.”

I waved her away and she left my office and me in peace. Okay, it was a nice fountain pen with sterling silver casing and yes it was expensive but I happen to think she’s worth it. She’d admired my pen when I was signing letters remarking she’d have to get a new one as she’d broken her old one and didn’t like ball points.

I began to look at my post and found the contract. I had to sign it, I wasn’t sure I would, not with that final clause. I dropped it on my desk and sipped my tea. Life was back to reality with a vengeance.