The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2896 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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“Cathy, Dr Freeman seems a bit upset with you,” said the Dean on the phone.

“I called his bluff.”

“How did you do that?”

“He says he’s sick, I don’t believe him. I think he’s malingering in the hope we’ll give him early retirement.”

“That’s one way of getting rid of him.”

“Yes, but why should he get away with it when others have to work until they reach retirement age?”

“Life isn’t fair.”

“It is if I’m in charge.”

He laughed. “I enjoy someone who knows where they’re going.”

“Yes, Lecture theatre one in ten minutes—I’m still doing some of his lectures.”

“What are you teaching?”

“Ecology—adaptations and adapting.”

“Adaptations I understand, adapting I’m not so sure of.”

“Adapting your environment, changing it to be more comfortable or easier to manage.”

“I know humans do it, what else?”

“Beavers are the most obvious species but ants do it, several species of plant do it.”

“Fascinating, one of these days I’ll have to sit in and learn something. I’ll talk to you again.”

Life felt easier when Tom was dean and knew many of my staff. I didn’t employ Freeman and probably wouldn’t have. Never liked him, always thought he was lazy which was Tom’s opinion as well and the reason I got promoted over his head. He accused Tom of nepotism, but even O’Connor knew Freeman was a waste of space.

I finished my cuppa and went off to waste my time trying to educate people who saw university as either a skive—beats working for a living, or a finishing school. I suppose we had the odd one who actually wanted a degree or were intent on seeing it as means to a career afterwards.

Beginning with a reminder of what ecology was all about—the relationship of critters to their environment and to each other—we are all part of each other’s environment. Next I went on about how we adapt things for our benefit—I showed a slide of the chapel from Lincoln Castle where everyone was effectively isolated from everyone else with the only view being on the priest conducting the service or sermon. I suggested that if we did the same here, some of the students would have to listen to what I was saying. I told them we wouldn’t be trying it unless there was enough money left in the budget at the end of this month. That got a laugh—they obviously don’t recognise a psychopath when they see one.

They seemed to enjoy the slides of beaver which I got from a colleague who is helping to monitor them down in Devon. These are Eurasian beaver not the North American species. There are differences between the two species and attempts to cross breed them have not succeeded in live offspring. The Eurasian species Castor fiber, is slightly bigger than its US cousin C. canadensis. They’ve been reintroduced to various places in Scotland and England including Kent and Gloucestershire. It’s suggested that the changes beavers make to the environment improve conditions for most other species including fish, birds and other mammals like otters and water voles. It’s also suggested they help reduce flooding risk though in Poland they were deemed guilty of causing flooding—I suppose there’s always one, isn’t there?

The word beaver always gets the boys’ attention so when I said I was going to show some pictures of beavers there were nudges and winks and dirty laughs everywhere, can’t think why. In the UK, little boys who are too young to join the Cubs can join the Beavers, so that was what I showed them a group of kids in their uniforms which got some puzzled looks and funny noises from the boys and sniggers from some of the girls. After that they got Castor fiber and I stuck to straight ecology. I guess they enjoy my lectures because I do something they don’t expect or make them do it. I hadn’t done this lecture for a couple or more years so, the intel they got from older students wouldn’t necessarily have helped them.

“Those shoes are really nice,” said Diane as I returned to my office.

“They’re quite comfortable,” I said wiggling my toes with enough room to be able to. Some of my more fashionable shoes certainly wouldn’t allow it and court shoes only stay on your foot because the shoe is actually smaller than the foot it’s on. Otherwise they’d fall off.

At twelve fifteen we’d caught up on all the important paperwork and we both walked over to the staff refectory to get some food. Teaching, if it goes well, usually has me a bit high—all that energy buzzing around—so food is grounding—that was my excuse for having a tuna baguette plus some rice pudding—not on the same plate, I hasten to add.

“If I ate all that I’d be asleep all afternoon,” sighed Diane making do with a fruit yoghurt for her pud.

“Well one of us has to work.” I smirked as I spoke and half choked on a morsel of rice. I was very hot and red faced when I finished coughing and she was chuckling away to herself.

“Poetic justice,” she crowed and chuckled some more. Some days I wonder if I could cope without a secretary.

“It will be while I snooze and you make the teas.”

“You’d better not, you’ve got a meeting in half an hour.”

“Since when?” I’d looked that morning and there was nothing in the diary.

“The acting Vice Chancellor requested it.”

“Who—oh right,” I recalled it before being humiliated by her answer. If she sniggers once more, I shall thump her. It can’t have been the rice, I’d only just started it so it must have been using all that energy teaching. When I thought about it for a moment longer, I realised it was the return to normal after the high of performing. Once the food starts to release some blood sugars I’ll perk up. “What’s he want to meet for?” We live in the same house for goodness sakes but he won’t discuss work stuff unless he has to. Time at home is for the family he says before he hides in his study plus he doesn’t say anything if I’m working on the survey or other work related stuff.

“He didn’t say, but his temp, Laura, mentioned something about contracts.”

As I remembered it, Daddy was just as adamant not to sign a new contract, partly because he didn’t want to be acting dean for ever nor even permanent dean. I wasn’t quite sure what he did want, but retirement wasn’t it.

At exactly half past one Tom returned to his old office and accepted a cuppa and chocolate Hobnob. His eyes sparkled when he saw the plate of them before him. I felt like saying, ‘We don’t have to eat them all, but he probably hadn’t had much more than a chicken curry, so his rice wouldn’t have been sugar rich.

“Ye bonnie lassie,” he said grabbing a biscuit from the plate Diane was holding. I felt like protesting, ‘She may be holding the plate but I bloody well paid for them.’

“Have another, Vice Chancellor,” she said with me thinking if he gets any fatter he’ll have ask one of us to tie his shoe laces. I was told I didn’t need any as I’d had rice pudding. Tom scowled at me. I ignored it.

He wiped his sticky fingers in his handkerchief, which I wash—well the machine does, but he can’t operate it. Seems that operation of domestic appliances, especially cleaning ones, is a sex linked ability. Men can’t do it, or not in our house.

After this ceremonial digit cleaning he leant over and pulled out a file. On top when he opened it was the contract Jason had drawn up for me and Diane had typed. “We think your contract design is good so we’re going to introduce them throughout.”

“Well you already have mine.”

“Uh not quite, Cathy.”

“Well O’Connor seemed to think so.”

“Yer position is acting professor, Cathy.”

“So?” it didn’t really worry me as I knew I was only keeping his seat warm.

“Sae, we hae tae go f’ advertising it. I’m afraid ye’ll hae to apply f’ it and interview if ye mak thae short list.”