Easy As Walling Up A Kite.
by Bonzi trans. his mum.
part:318

I drove home wondering what this Hickman person wanted. I wasn't exactly new news, rather the opposite. I was very old news. So why would anyone want to do an interview? I don't live in a fabulous house, or live with David Beckham or Brad Pitt, so why would anyone be interested?

I nearly bumped the car on the way home, the one in front stopped abruptly and I only just managed to stop my Golf in time. From then on, I concentrated on the road rather than the mystery.

Tom's car was in the driveway, and I called to him as I entered the house. He didn't answer. I searched around the rooms and he wasn't there. I looked upstairs, no sign of him. I began to worry, things were hardly normal these days and the universe did seem to be trying to add to my paranoia on a fairly regular basis.

I checked the conservatory, he wasn't there but neither was Kiki. They were probably out together. I hoped so. I made a cuppa and started the dinner. I had some plaice in the freezer, so I cooked it in a white wine sauce, with saute potatoes, carrots sticks baked in butter and some broccoli, which I steamed.

I hadn't had a chance to tell Tom about my visitor until dinner. He listened with interest but could shed no more light on it than was already apparent. He then told me about his meeting, which I knew had been a tough one, hence his walking the dog.

When I get stressed, I get on a bike: Tom walks Kiki. I sat and listened as he told me that the vice chancellor had been at the meeting. Tom felt quite vulnerable.

"The other big science departments have landed big contracts with mega bucks, Physics have linked up with Nasa to do something with the new Mars project; Chemistry, have got something with the MOD and NATO to develop some new undetectable explosive. We count rodents."

"Yeah, they couldn't do that," I said this in a triumphal way, because I meant it. Field biology is not something just anyone can do.

Tom gave me a very fed up stare, he wasn't impressed.

"But what we're doing is far more important than blowing up Mars, what we're doing is about trying to save this planet, not contaminate another." I said with emphasis.

"They don't care about that, we're not an educational establishment, we're a business these days."

"Tom, we have contracts too, with the Department of the Environment and the EU, we are running the biggest survey of mammals in history, the Americans are going to use our model after we get started, Japan and Australia are coming on board too. We are at the centre of the world in trying to save it from our own folly. This is important, more important than linking with little green men or blowing them up."

"We haven't got the income they have."

"We have more students."

"Female sudents thanks to your exploits, they don't usually change the world."

"In this case they will."

"What do you mean?"

"We are going to teach them to count dormice."

"What do you mean? I can't even count dormice."

"Okay, I'll rephrase that, I'll teach them the techniques they require to go out and count things. This data base is going to be as important as the botannical one at Kew. No one would be looking to close that down without risking the wrath of the scientific community."

"No one is going to close us down, they'll just be looking to change the leader for a more commercially minded one."

"Oh that's okay then. What! Change what leader?"

"I think the writing is on the wall, Cathy, they want someone younger and more dynamic and with more commercial sense."

"But they can't, we're in the middle of the biggest thing in the history of the university, can't they see that?"

"It isn't bringing in the money, if anything it's going to be telling business what the cost of their success has done to the planet, which they don't want to know."

"But that's being like ostriches! Would they prefer an American university told them, using the methods we've devised?"

"Maybe," he said tiredly.

"They can't, we've put in too much work on this, we have the backing of the EU, the government and Simon's bank. I've invested too much, I won't let them."

"You won't be able to stop them, besides, think of how much you could earn in the States running this programme. One of the ivy leaguers would snap you up."

"I don't want to go to the States, not yet anyway. I came to Portsmouth because I wanted to study under your direction. That hasn't changed, if it means we need a new vice chancellor, I'll sort it."

"Just like that?"

"No, it'll take a week or two."

"Cathy, you cannot just remove the vice chancellor, the most powerful person in the university, especially to save an old has-been, like me."

"Watch me. Now the only question is do you want him to resign or die in office?"

"What! You are suggesting the murder of the vice chancellor, are you crazy?"

"No, I'll just frighten him to death."

"Don't be ridiculous, he's an ex-cabinet minister, they don't frighten easily if at all."

"When he learns just how much calumny I shall bring down upon his head, he'll either die of shame or resign."

"Don't be silly, what happened to the dear, sweet girl I invited to live here?"

"She's still here, but when threatened fights for those she loves."

"Look I appreciate your concern, but it's my problem not yours."

"Tom, you are really the only family I have until I marry Simon. Even then you will be special to me, like a father. I will fight to protect you, as I will anyone else I love."

"Shouldn't I be protecting you, if I'm in the paternal role."

"You did, until I came of age."

He sat shaking his head, "The dormouse roars!" he said and laughed.

"Yeah," I said and giggled. It sounded ridiculous, but tomorrow I would make an appointment to see the vice chancellor and explain the facts of life to him. If that didn't work, I would then campaign to remove him and I was developing plenty of contacts in the media.

We sat drinking some wine, calming down after my tirade. The phone rang, Tom answered it as I cleared the table. I assumed it was for him and loaded the dishwasher. He called me just as I started it.

"Hello?"

"Hi Cathy, it's Des. I have some gen on your mystery caller."

"Go ahead, I'm all ears."

"Yeah, dormice usually are," he joked before he told me his gleanings. "This guy is probably a Martin Hickman, he lives near Bristol and has a mental health problem."

"What do you mean by that, is he a nutter or something?"

"I think the clinical term is he suffers from schizophrenia, paranoid variety. He also cross dresses and has been done for stalking."

"Stalking?"

"Yeah, young, attractive women."

"That let's me out then," I quipped.

"Sadly not, in fact it makes you a prime target, especially with your transsexual background, it makes him more interested, possibly jealous of you."

"How could anyone be jealous of me, there's thirty million women in this country who had an easier ride into womanhood than I did. Surely, he should be jealous of them not me."

"Stop deluding yourself, Cathy. If you can't see the connection, there'll be no PhD for you, you're too thick."

"Gee thanks, Des, just what I needed to hear."

"Well that's all I have just now."

"Okay, see you next week to start the filming."

"Looking forward to it."

"I may need some help on another matter."

"Like what?"

"I'll let you know, if and when."

"Oh, okay. Talk to you soon."

"Yeah, bye, Des."

I went back to talk with Tom. He was less gloomy, in fact he was still tittering about the 'roaring dormouse'. I let him have his fun, after all we dormice have broad shoulders. Just then Kiki began to bark and she was looking towards the back of the house.

"Cat, I expect," suggested Tom. Telling her to be quiet, but she wasn't having it, she kept up her noise until it was nearly time for bed. Then she quietened down and I went up to my bed thinking more about vice chancellors than dogs. Maybe I should have listened to the dog.