The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2990 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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The next morning when I woke, I was alone in my bed, Simon and Sammi had gone off to work and I reflected on the night before, would he actually do something to Brownlowe? I hoped that he’d promised not to do anything and would respect my wishes. As far as I was concerned the whole thing was dead and buried it was so far in the past and there was no point in pursuing it except to show how stupid you were. However, I knew I‘d be on tenterhooks all day until I saw Simon that evening and even then I’d have to deal with him with some delicacy.

Of course my being distracted possibly caused the girls to play up Hannah and Livvie almost coming to blows over disputed ownership of a CD. In the end I shouted at them and confiscated the aforementioned item which of course resulted in tears before breakfast, let alone bedtime, and then I was treated like an outcast by the others for being a bully to their sisters. The atmosphere in the car on the way to school was as pleasant as the power struggles in Turkey, only the two factions in our case were the girls, who may be seen as the challengers to me, the dictator who was clinging to power and not afraid to show it. The disappeared in our case would refer to a certain object of recorded entertainment rather than people, though it was tempting.

I arrived at the office and was pleased that I’d not have to deal with students except to meet with various teachers to draw up a list of students we would warn or expel depending upon results in exams, course work, attendance and the impression of their individual teachers. Every student has a personal tutor who will know them far better than I do. I simply take the advice of the tutor and sign the letter of warning for them to pull their socks up or they’ll be out. My whole morning was going to be dealing with these cases and in the mood I was in, I suspected I’d make Judge Jeffreys look quite merciful. Diane took one look at me and disappeared to make me a cuppa.

She brought it in and I glanced up from my desk, I had half an hour to come out of my funk or be seen as irascible, not exactly my preferred image. “Okay, boss lady, what’s got stuck in your knickers?”

“What?” I gasped, not quite sure what I interpreted from her question which was part of her reason for asking it.

“You, you look like a grisly grizzly.”

“A what?” I said demonstrating my indefatigable interrogating skills.

“A sore bear with a head attached.”

“One of these days you’ll say something I actually understand.”

“Wanna bet?” she muttered in an audible stage whisper.

“I beg your pardon?” I said loudly.

“Look, who’s stolen your lollipop?”

I mentioned what had happened at home and she nodded to demonstrate she was listening, at least I think she did rather than she’d fallen asleep, but then Diane was one of those capable women who could multitask which meant she could be asleep with her eyes open, while typing and talking to me at the same time.

Sagely she said, “I think I might be a bit miffed too had that been my introduction to the day,” of course people who agree with me tend to be very wise.

We chatted for perhaps another ten minutes whikle the life giving properties of the tea did their bit too and by the end I felt much better, though I hadn’t mentioned my conversation with Simon and its ensuing concerns.

Fortified, I met with my group of tutors and we discussed the students who were of concern and most of whom were simply names to me–although I sometimes lecture to first years, most of teaching is with final year students or supervising post grads at both masters and doctoral levels.

“Hang on, Barry, this young woman, Ella Barnes, didn’t she lose her dad fairly recently?” I said to my colleague.

“Did she? If she did she didn’t tell me.” He looked surprised.

“I came across her crying one afternoon and had a little chat with her, I would recommend we take her off this list and ask her to speak with one of us when she returns in September.”

Barry Elsonore, one of the first year tutors let just a tad of resentment flash across his face because I’d got one over on him. He’d got his PhD six months before me at Bournemouth, and I suspect he was irritated because I was a professor and he considered I’d been promoted over his head. As I’d worked here for two years before he came, I didn’t agree with him but then I wouldn’t have employed him, male chauvinist pig that he was; sadly when Tom appointed him he was the best of a bad bunch so he didn’t have much to choose from.

The meetings with various tutors took up most of the day but the disagreement I’d had with Dr Elsonore was the only one and I confess I was glad to get that day behind me. Now all I had to do was deal with a car load of girls who were due to finish school that day. I’d asked David to make up some party foods for them and he even agreed to take it to the school for them to save my sanity.

When I arrived at the school I was buttonholed by Sister Maria who almost dragged me into her office. “Just thought I’d better tell you that we had a little issue today with Hannah.”

“Oh, in what way?” my tummy flipped over.

“She got involved in an altercation with another girl, who she claimed had insulted her mother.”

“Me or her biological mother?”

“I suspect it was her original mum, I can’t imagine anyone insulting her current one, she’s a veritable angel.”

“Or demon depending upon your pantheon, now what happened?”

“Neither would say too much about it but seeing as the other girl appeared to have borne the brunt of it, I declared it a draw and made them shake hands which your adopted daughter was reluctant to do, Lady Cameron.”

“D’you wish to call her in now?”

“No, I’ll let you deal with it as you’re her mother.” She smiled an almost embarrassed smile and I smiled a polite but irked one back. Hannah doesn’t cause problems, though she was at war with Livvie earlier. I wonder if the two were related it began to look like they may be. I’ll have to tread delicately with this one. Oh boy, just what I needed, I don’t think.

I collected the girls who were mostly like bottles of pop except Hannah who seemed a little withdrawn. I gave them all a quick hug and we got in the car. Trish and Danielle were quite noisy while Hannah stayed quiet. I’ll let her know I recognise something isn’t right and then make space for her to talk to me. Yes, that’s what I’d do.