The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2952 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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Episode 246 dozen for the dodecaphiles.

When we got home I called Trish into the study and asked her what had happened. Apparently the man had said, “Excuse me, young lady...” and before she could ask him what he wanted he grabbed at her so she let him have it right between the legs.

“I often wondered what it would be like to do that to a boy,” she said dispassionately.

“Well now you know, don’t do it again unless it’s an emergency.”

“Bah, you’re no fun anymore,” she teased and she was lost to a fit of the giggles for the next couple of minutes. I knew that saying anything would make matters worse, so I just waited until she calmed down.

“That was all he said?”

“Yes that’s what the policewoman asked me as well.”

Oh well, it would seem like I’m on the right track in terms of process.

“Then she asked if I knew you were there an’ I didn’t, I thought you had to go to Uni. I just ran and called for help and Sister Maria rang the police. When we came back to see if he was still about, you were sat on top of him with his arm bent up his back and him shouting at you.”

“That’s what you told the police, was it?”

“Yes, you have to tell them the truth and the whole truth, I saw it on the telly.”

I wasn’t going to confuse the issue because in most regards she’s probably correct in the same way most coppers are okay, just trying to hold down a difficult and at times dangerous job—nearly as bad as dormouse counting—did I tell you about the time Simon got shot, or I got shot at by a grumpy farmer who blew out the windows of my car.

I congratulated Trish on her quick thinking and let her go to do her homework. I had some of my own to do—these days there always seems to be something I have to finish at home or work late to complete in the office and having had some less than happy experiences in the university after hours, I try to come home where at least I should get a meal.

Dinner was at seven because David wanted to watch something on the telly—football I expect, he seems to like his sport. Okay so I could have watched the Giro, but at the moment, I’m too busy to do anything much but work or look after the children.

We’d just finished eating when the doorbell rang. Not expecting anyone I went to answer it. It was Andy Bond, the nicest policeman on the force. “Come on in, tea?”

“Yes please, you know me I never refuse a cuppa.”

“Well just in case it’s your third or fourth, you know where the loo is,” I pointed and he nodded that he did know. I made the tea and we sat at the table. “Now I wonder if I can guess why you’re here, Sergeant Bond?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if you did, Professor Watts.”

“Let’s see, how about some strange man who grabbed my daughter in the school playground and received some bruising round his gonads for the effort, was then detained by said girl’s mother who proved even more violent and held him until the police arrived some few minutes later. They weren’t very gentle with him either.”

“I’d say your clairvoyance was excellent, however it didn’t include identifying him as a school inspector, did it? So only seven out of ten.”

“School inspector? He grabbed my daughter, I saw him do it.”

“He says he did it because she was running and may have crashed into someone, he only wanted to make her walk.”

“Is this guy for real?”

“His ID said he was and we checked it out with the DoE.”

“And he’s kosher?”

Andy nodded.

“So why didn’t he say?”

“He said you didn’t give him a chance and he feared you might dislocate his shoulder.”

“It did cross my mind.”

“You naughty professor you.”

“What would you have done if you’d seen someone grab one of your kids?”

“Probably more than you did—you seemed very restrained this time.”

“I had him secure until the police arrived. I didn’t need to waste further energy.”

“Okay, you cracked two of his ribs and his shoulder is rather sore.”

“I should apologise? You have to be joking. If a strange man lays a finger on one of my girls, I’m going to react protectively.”

“You realise he could sue you for assault?”

“If he does my lawyers will have something to say about it.”

“Cathy, he has said that if you apologise he’ll accept it was a misunderstanding and no charge will be made against you.”

“How can I be in the wrong? He grabbed my daughter and we’d been primed by the school that there was some pervert hanging about, so it was probable that he was the pervert not some bloody Ofsted tosser. I mean how much training do these guys have—not enough by the sound of it?”

“I can understand your anger as to what you thought you saw. But if it went to court it would be messy and unsettling for all of you, whereas a simple apology would stop all that. C’mon, Cathy, let’s clear this up quickly with no further bad feeling.”

“What if he turns out to be some sort of creep hiding as a schools inspector?”

“Then we’ll have him and let you talk with him alone for five minutes, but the chances are he isn’t and you could have quite a problem on your hands. I know you could afford to go as far if not further than almost anyone short of Richard Branson, but is it worth it? Think what else you could do with that money.”

“If he apologises for grabbing Trish, I’ll do so for forcibly detaining him in the belief he was a criminal. I suppose he wants Trish to apologise as well, does he?”

“No, he’s going to sue her.”

“What?” I gasped and he laughed loudly.

“Cathy, your face was a picture.”

“So what about Trish?”

“He’s writing that off down to experience.”

“When does this happen?”

“Asap.”

“I’m not invigilating tomorrow for a change. Tomorrow morning, what time?”

“I’ll collect you from the university if you want?”

“No way am I leaving the university in a police car.”

“In my own car and I won’t be in uniform—okay?”

“What time?”

“About ten.”

“Okay, but he has to apologise for grabbing Trish.”

“I’m sure he will.”

“He’d better or know some good lawyers because he’ll need them. If I tell mine to attack, they will and it’ll make anything I did very amateur by comparison.”

“I think I prefer it when you’re talking about saving dormice rather than destroying people.”

“Talking of which we’re doing a survey on Saturday.”

“What dormice?”

“Yes, it’s good fun.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Why want to come?”

“What—really?”

“Yeah, you might have to put up with some of my whining children.”

“What you take Trish and Livvie?”

“I was meaning my first year students...”

He looked at me then burst out laughing.