The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2882 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 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 had a tuna jacket just for a change, one day I must try tuna trousers. Archibald had steak baguette. Somehow I didn’t expect him to be a veggie.

“I had a quick look at your CV.”

“ I wasn’t aware I had sent one into Defra,” I wasn’t sure if I felt indignant or concerned he was going to work out who I was, but with several hundred students doing biology, he might not know me anyway. Perhaps I only recognised him because he was the opposite of everything I was, popular, athletic and highly sexed. Perhaps I was jealous—no, probably not as I’ve never sought any of those things anyway.

“I think Dr Gareth Sage sent it seeking help when he wanted you to go for the UN job.”

“Yes, poor chap murdered by some thug who ran a quarrying business.”

“Quite. When were you at Sussex?”

“Why, were you there?”

“Matter of fact, I was. Ninety nine to oh two.”

“A bit after you.”

“Well, I’m sure I’d have remembered you if our paths had crossed. Watts, there was some creepy little guy in the first year—pretty good at making microscope slides—as I recall. Least I think it was a guy, but you’re so different, he can’t be any relation, can he?”

I shrugged, “Don’t think so.”

“Look the reason I asked you is we’re thinking of extending the badger cull again—keep the farmers happy and we need some academic to support us.”

“If that’s all, I’d better go, because it’s wrong for all sorts of scientific as well as moral reasons—the mammal society made quite a succinct statement about it, which I support entirely. The previous culls were poorly managed, were ill thought out, were carried out despite the advice of the science lobby and we have no reports back from them. Also it’s suspected they were inhumane in their prosecution.” I laid down my knife and fork and went to stand up.

“Please finish your meal.”

“I’m sorry but I’ve quite lost my appetite.”

“So foxhunting is out, too?”

“Completely. Hunting with dogs is barbaric and has very little control over outcomes. That it’s carried out by sadists who feel they’re above the rest of us with their fat arses on large amounts of mobile cat food, is an insult to the democratic process. The vast majority of people in this country are against it despite the countryside alliance, which is the equivalent of the head bangers who make up the NRA in the States.”

“Not a bit of jealousy is there about your social betters.”

Instead of exploding I became very calm, almost cold blooded. “Social betters? I’m a professor at a university—doesn’t that rank pretty high on the social hierarchy, in group one I suspect.”

“Compared to landowners and old money?”

“You aren’t aware of my married name?”

“That wasn’t in the file.”

“Let me enlighten you then.” I opened my bag and pulled out one of my personal cards and dropped it on the table.”

“Lady Catherine Cameron, Director of Environmental Affairs, High Street Bank plc.” He swallowed. “Is that Cameron as in the family that owns it?”

“Yes. Goodbye, Mr Archibald.”

“Oh fuck,” I think I heard as I walked away.

I left paying for my own meal as I went, although most of it was uneaten. I needed to lose some weight and I was too angry to eat. There was another difference between us, he was a total tosser prepared to sacrifice any integrity he had for expediency and his master’s bidding. If they try to change the law or bring back the cull, I shall be vociferous in my condemning of it on all grounds.

“Not go too well, then?” said Diane seeing my face like thunder as I stomped into my office.

“No it did not.”

“Cuppa?”

“Please.”

By the time she entered my office waving a white handkerchief and calling, ‘Don’t shoot’, I’d calmed myself down. Mind you squashing two old ladies and handful of kids on the zebra crossing got rid of some of my anger. Must get the blood off the paintwork, haemoglobin causes rust. I was joking of course, I stopped at the zebra, just, my mind still in red mist mode having contained myself over the meeting with that idiot. Surely, his bosses must know who I am?

I then began to wonder if he’d been set up by them to take him down a peg, he was an arrogant tosser, but then most of them are. But only half briefing him, that was wicked—except he could have looked me up in various places on the net. So he’s either a stupid tosser or bone idle.

He’ll find someone eventually, some farmer who studied biology back in the previous century when Darwin or Huxley were still around, or would that have been the nineteenth century—no matter. There are idiots in all walks of life and that includes biology. He possibly thinks I’m one—the difference being, my academic record is good, I suspect he only studied reproduction in his last year of university.

I accepted the mug of tea, “Wanna tell Auntie Di all about it?” she said and I glowered at her then laughed. Like my meeting, it didn’t take long. “So he didn’t recognise you?”

“No, I’ve changed somewhat since then.”

“I doubt it, you were a rebel in school, you’re still one.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you stick to your principles regardless of consequence—I admire that, so do your family and your students. They know if you support them, they can count on you to the bitter end.”

“Damn, am I that transparent?”

“Yes, and it’s something we all regard highly.”

“What even the spotty yoofs I teach?”

“Just because they’re young doesn’t mean they can’t recognise honesty and integrity, even if they haven’t accrued much of their own. They positively love you.”
She left me sitting there in total shock watching my tea going cold. The problem was, I didn’t recognise the description she had of me. Ignoring my origins, I felt like just an ordinary woman who was blest with a large family of loving children and a happy marriage—possibly because we rarely seemed to see each other these days—and a dream job, until I got promoted beyond my enjoyment level. I’m now a scientist manager—okay my job is facilitate the learning or teaching of information, oversee research projects and maintain standards as well as control budgets, encourage or should that be, entice sponsors. I’m also a networker—if you’re not—you might as well be in an enclosed religious order. It’s using the grapevine, but a superior one with those I’ve worked with as a student or since. The survey has given me access to dozens if not hundreds of universities across Europe, even a few in Russia—not my favourite country for obvious reasons, but they haven’t tried to kill me for a few months.

I came out of my trance and remembered my tea. It was cool rather than cold and just about drinkable. Thankfully, it was time to go and collect the girls. As I drove to school to pick them up I realised I hadn’t spoken to Daddy about his standing in for the Vice Chancellor, but then I wasn’t sure what I thought about it. It could take months to recruit a suitable replacement—he was supposed to only be doing the dean’s job temporarily, like my standing in for him in the department. I’m sure his moving up to the deanship included a condition that I take over his chair; his explanation being that if I messed up he could ‘skelp ma lug’. Not that he’d ever lay a finger on anyone, far too urbane for that.

“Hi, Mummy, Sister Vagina let me do a thing on evolution to the rest of the class.”

“Oh, so she’s been rehabilitated in your eyes has she?”

“Wossat mean?” asked Trish looking perplexed.

“It means she got a new dress, I think,” offered Hannah. I was rather glad we hadn’t started moving because my body just shook with laughter and my eyes ran. I love these kids.