The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2923 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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“Not quite sure what sort of impact you want to make, Debbie.”

“Well get them to notice I’m there.”

“Really? Did you think they wouldn’t?”

“Well you did tell me to make them think I was entertaining them while slipping in bits of information.”

“I think you might find you’re too much of a distraction unless you do something on warning colours in biology.” Her top was red and the waistcoat black. She took a second to feel the barb before she blushed.

I went into my office and about ten minutes later Diane came in. “You realise she’s upset about your opinion of her dress.”

“If you flaunt it you have to be prepared to back it up, clearly she isn’t.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s gone back to her hotel to change.”

“Goodness, I hope it’s not into some form of fetish garment.”

“No, she feels you humiliated her.”

“Come again?”

“You told her, her dress would be a distraction.” She studied my face. “Are your eyelashes breeding?”

“Diane, is it a good idea to be having this conversation with someone who purports to be your employer?”

“I can type faster than you.”

“That’s beside the point...”

“I thought you’d be sympathetic to a transgendered woman?”

“I didn’t know you were—that’s a bit of a surprise.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Debbie is transgendered or whatever they call it, she had surgery last year.”

“How d’you know that?”

“She told me at lunch the other day.” I sat there blinking at her. “I noticed one or two things about her and admired her skinny hips which compared to my luxury size rear end. She told me she was born in the wrong body and had it corrected. I asked her if she’d told you and she said no in case you sacked her...”

“I can’t—not for that anyway.”

“That’s what I told her, the university would support her as an equal opportunities employer and that you’d dealt with the situation before and weren’t worried about it.”

“She hadn’t twigged?”

“No but then you hadn’t with her, had you?”

“I did, almost the moment I met her.”

“If gay men and women can identify each other how come she didn’t guess about you?”

“Perhaps because I got the luxury derrière and breasts too.”

She laughed. “Don’t be too hard on her, boss, she’s quite fragile under the shiny exterior.”

“Diane, I here to run a department which includes looking after my students and staff but they have to be honest with me too.”

“Are you being honest with her?”

“Diane, my birth certificate says female. I’m a married woman with a football team of kids who call me mother. I don’t think I need to explain or excuse my route to this status to anyone. I’ll help her to develop her potential as much I do my students but coming in dressed like she’s a fashion designer or going clubbing is in neither interest. She needs to relax and do what we pay her for.”

“She’s scared you’re not going to like what she does—compared to you.”

“I’m not paying her to imitate what I do, nobody can do that, she needs to acquire her own style of teaching and wearing what she did would have distracted from that. If she’d worn the outfit with ordinary boots or even flat shoes, I’d have said nothing, but four inch heels and over knee boots? C’mon. She’s supposed to be a scientist not a fashion designer.”

Diane shrugged and left. So I was right—whoopee doo, now what? I don’t feel obliged to tell anyone these days—if they have no absolute need to know, then I don’t feel obliged to tell them. As Simon kept telling me, I don’t have to apologise for being me. I took off my jacket and sat in my blouse and skirt dealing with paperwork thinking I should have worn jeans for sitting about in here. My door was knocked and I called out to enter. Debbie crept into my room.

“I’m sorry if I seemed a bit flippant earlier, I didn’t mean to insult you.” She was blushing and now wearing some ordinary jeans with a pair of flat moccasin shoes.

“No offence was taken.”

“Thank you.”

“Debbie, it’s my job to help you become a good teacher if that’s what you want to do. Sometimes my advice may feel critical, if it is, don’t take it negatively. I want you to succeed because it helps you, it helps the students and it enhances the reputation of this university. Then we’re all winners.”

“They say you’re one of the best communicators in the business and listening to Diane, your students, those privileged to have you teach them, confirm that. I saw you in action yesterday—I agree. What worries me is that I won’t come anywhere near your skills if I live to be a hundred.”

“Don’t try to copy me—you’ll end up as a poor imitation. Develop your own style and do what feels natural, they’ll soon tell you if you got it wrong. But listen to your body, it’ll tell you if you’re doing it well, you’ll feel the energy holding all of you, you’ll have this buzz inside you. It won’t happen every time even though they’ll be expecting it to, so you’ll have to deal with the odd flop, but experience will help you to deal with that and to minimise it. Be true to yourself first.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Good and I always listen to her.”

“Thank you, unfortunately you don’t sound like my daughters—they never listen.”

“Perhaps I’m a bit older than them.”

“Some of them, perhaps.”

She gave me a curious look the one that says you’re not old enough and so on. “I have some adopted children who needed a mother figure despite being only ten years younger than me.”

“You don’t have any vacancies, do you?”

“You already have a mother, I’m your boss and I hope mentor. I have to watch you teach at some point. Tell me when you want me to come.”

“I’m on stage in half an hour so you’re welcome then, just be prepared for amateur night. Perhaps you could give me some pointers on this stuff, I’m doing evolution.”

I didn’t know if she was buttering me up or being genuine. I suspected the latter but I don’t know her that well yet. She showed me the notes for the lecture she’d written last night and they were very different to the way I’d do it but they should work. I gave her a few more examples and told her we had slides of them. If she asked John, he’d pop them in the projector for her or do copies on a memory stick.

She went off looking much more authentic both as a teacher and a woman in my eyes. She still hadn’t told me about herself but then she wasn’t obliged to and I’d never tell her that Diane had leaked it to me. If she wants me to know officially, she has to tell me otherwise she’s one of my female staff and expected to act as such and deal with her issues mostly by herself unless she needs my help and then she only has to ask.

I’ll be her mother in spirit at work, but like all good parents will watch from a distance and only intervene if things go very wrong or look like they might or she asks me to. Sometimes it’s quite a hard place to be.