The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2982 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’d sent an email back to IBM but didn’t expect much of a reply, they’d pulled the plug and there was little I could do about it. I felt really angry and was still bristling when I walked into the office at quarter to nine.

“Morning, oh great one,” said Diane bowing to me.

“We lost the IBM research.”

“How come?”

“They’ve opted to switch to a continental university.”

“Why?”

“Because we voted to leave the EU.”

“But we haven’t left the EU yet.”

“Tell that to IBM.”

“I will if you want me to.”

“I wouldn’t waste my breath, especially with a company who decided the personal computer would never catch on. Oh tell purchasing no more Lenovo products.”

She looked puzzled.

“They’re made by IBM.”

“Isn’t that being catty?”

“Yes but it feels good.”

“Okay, I’ll tell them. Tea?”

“Please,” I went into my office and slumped into the chair. I still had to do the film on the pine marten. It felt increasingly attractive compared to trying to sail a ship which has received several direct hits, some below the waterline. Now do I come out fighting or retreat and plug the holes, or do I have the same problem as half the Royal Navy, engines that don’t work.

I sat looking at my computer without seeing what it was displaying. Diane plonked the mug of tea down in front of me. “I tried ringing that American guy, his secretary refused to put me through, so I told her she worked for a jerk.”

I glanced up at her, “What did she say to that?”

“As I wasn’t one of their recognised critics my opinion didn’t count but she thanked me for calling.”

I chuckled, it was too silly for words.

“I think she might have been a robot anyway.”

“I suspect that would cost even more money, remember they do hardware not software, which is why Bill Gates is so rich.”

“But it’s total rubbish.”

“I know but we’re stuck with it, the same is true of Brexit, sooner or later some dumb Tory will make the decision to activate clause 50 or whatever it’s called and the misery will begin.”

“The misery has already begun.”

“Hedge fund managers and so on are awful cowards, I mean we’re only asking them to hang fire for fifty years or so and we should be sorted.”

“Is that all?”

“Give or take a century or two.”

“You realise you’re teaching in half an hour.”

“Am I? On what?”

“Introduction to ecology.”

“To whom?”

“First years, I suspect.”

“Oh well, Brian Cox teaches first years, so it seems to have precedent.”

“You’ve done it for ages.”

“So, d’you reckon he’s following my example?”

“Got to be, hasn’t it?” Diane answered.

“You sure it’s not, has to be?”

“He’s from Manchester, so does it matter?”

“Probably not, but you’re from Cheltenham.”

“So, I don’t claim to have learned anything the few years I was there.”

“Well you’re honest if a bit dim.”

“That’s me Mrs Dim but nice.”

“Well, Mrs Dim but nice could you kindly find me my notes for this ’ere lecture.” I had to admit I wasn’t aware of the lecture because I hadn’t looked at my diary. She went off to find them. It had been a while since I’d done it but I suspected I’d manage. When I thought about it, it had to be wrong. We only have another week or so before all the students go home, so why would I be doing this now?”

She came back looking flustered. “I—um, made a mistake, you’re supposed to be talking to a group of school kids about ecology and its importance to the natural world and also the human one.”

“Where am I doing it?”

“The main lecture theatre.”

I checked my outtakes from Alan, oh well, let’s go and entertain the kids.

An hour and a half later, I’d showed them film clips of what can go wrong with ecology, or making films using the principles of ecology. The kids loved it, they should, it’s pure slapstick with no scripts at the same time I explained fairly coherently, the principles of ecology. At the end there were a few good questions which probably meant they weren’t listening rather formulating their questions of memorising them, if provided by teachers.

When the technician brought in a torpid dormouse I told them all to stand ready to provide an answer for how old this one was. The guesses varied wildly from weeks to decades. However, one of the girls in the front row guessed it correctly and I asked her up on the stage with me. I asked her if she’d like to hold the dormouse and she blushed but nodded.

I placed the zonked rodent onto her hand and my technician filmed her holding it. After that I asked how many animals Moses had taken onto the ark with him. Various hands went up and they all had the wrong answer, eventually someone got it right, it was Noah who built the ark, Moses was about the ark of the covenant or was that Indiana Jones?

The correct answer got a dormouse photo and my show was over for another year. Of course as they left they received a package on the range of degrees we offer including some special ones for my department—the one I rule with an iron fist.

Of course the place was full of biology teachers one or two told me that my lecture had hit the mark and recruitment was likely to be high from those who’d stood and held the dormouse or been close to it. Usually, such an event would provide about twenty or thirty applicants of which perhaps five would complete the four year course. Today we had three quarters of them requesting details of the course, including what GCSE results they had. It was a bit like the responses we got when I did a new film and I was never sure if they were simply enthused or felt they could do better. It was the first positive thing that had happened that day, the second was me doing the Guardian crossword in under fifteen minutes while having my lunch. It was a Rufus one, probably the easiest ones they do, with some of the other setters, I’m not sure if I understand the clues let alone see the answers.

After lunch when I was dealing with the remaining research projects we had, Tom came round to ask what happened with IBM. When I told him he was really angry, more about the fact that he had been let down by someone he thought he could trust. I told him Boris thought the same about Gove.

I hadn’t seen him so angry for ages but when he left me he had a very red face. I threw blue light at him but it was rejected probably because he was too angry for it to penetrate him. I’d speak with him later on when he’d had a chance to calm down.