The Weekly Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3229 by Angharad Copyright© 2018 Angharad

I bent down to take the dishes out of the washer and felt uncomfortable; like everyone else I’d eaten too much. Simon and Toby were chatting about something while Sammi checked over everyone’s new laptop. In the end even I decided I could do with a new one. Tom had nearly flung his out of the window as he battled with the difference between Windows 10 and his previous program. Trish was showing him what to do while he consoled himself with a dram.

Stella had gone for snooze, mainly because she’d imbibed too much, which, amazingly, neither Simon nor Tom had. Toby had drunk no alcohol as he was driving and despite being in the police said they’d still prosecute if they caught him and he’d made enough enemies as it was amongst his plod colleagues.

Last I heard they were talking about the Six Nations rugby competition and who was going to win it. They both agreed it wouldn’t be Scotland so England or Ireland were favourites. Sitting in the kitchen by myself I drank a cup of tea and just enjoyed a few minutes with nobody calling me to do something. It was ‘Mummmm, where’s my whatever?’ or ‘Mummy can I do so and so?’

For a moment I thought back to being called Mummy for the first time by Meems. It was a title I’d never in my wildest dreams ever expected to hear in regard to me; mind you, when I was in school, I would never have expected to end up as Lady Cameron, Lady Macbeth was as close as I’d reached in those days and I didn’t want to do that, but I’m glad in someways I did, if only for the short period I got to waltz about in skirts in a boys’ school which royally pissed off Murray. Our psychopathic headmaster.

I thought about the day he saw me breastfeeding at Gareth’s house, Murray, that is. Gareth tore a strip off him a mile wide. Poor old Gareth, he was such a nice man he certainly didn’t deserve to be murdered. At least James and I brought his killer to justice, all over quarrying. On reflection it seems so stupid, how can a pile of rock be worth someone’s life, but it was, to the murderer anyway.

I hadn’t spoken to James for a bit, would try and do so in the new year. There would be some changes then. Tom was retiring as Vice Chancellor and was going to be simply Professor Emeritus. When I offered to give him back his chair, he got very cross with me, saying he’d just eke out his career supervising a few post graduate students and me. I wasn’t looking forward to having a new boss, especially what they were saying about him. A business man with no experience of education since he’d graduated twenty years before. His salary, if the rumours were true, was twice what Tom had got, but his pension wasn’t to be sneezed at.

In some ways I was glad Tom had retired, it was wearing him out as he tried to do things conscientiously. I’d bet the new one won’t, not like Tom did. Maybe it was time for me to go as well but Tom wouldn’t hear of it. I’m a scientist and want to be out in the field not stuck in an office writing policies or begging letters for research funding.

Still whatever happened, I had to see my life as having achieved so much more than I’d ever imagined, and for that I was grateful. I don’t mean becoming a professor, that would have been pretty far down my list of dreams, but being a wife and mother, albeit adopted variety was so much more than I ever expected. It almost verged on miraculous.

I sniffed back a tear just as Sammi brought her mug out to the kitchen. “Oh there you are,” she said to me, “everything okay?”

“Yeah, just taking a moment to gather my thoughts.”

“That was a super dinner, Mummy, though I’ll have to diet for weeks to get the weight off again.”

“You look fine to me, young lady.” Which was true, though she’d suffered yet another relationship breakdown. How it was that someone as lovely and brilliant as she was couldn’t find a long term partner concerned me, especially when I seemed to be able to and wasn’t half as clever or beautiful as she was. Perhaps she frightens people away by being too clever for them? If she’s got trouble I wonder what will happen to Trish in the relationship stakes as she tends to dominate with her imperiousness at times, whereas Sammi is quite self effacing until someone tries to tell her something about which she knows more.

“Cheltenham were after me again.”

“Were?”

“Yeah, I told them I’d help when I had time but unless they could match my bank salary, I wasn’t interested in being poor as well as overworked.”

“What did they say?”

“They got a bit hot and bothered and told me that patriotism didn’t have a price.”

“No but living does.”

“I told them that, especially as Cheltenham isn’t exactly cheap is it?”

“No, the Cotswolds aren’t.”

“Still, I could quite enjoy having a seventeenth century house.”

“Always need something doing to them plus they’re nearly all grade two listed, so you can’t change the toilet roll without permission.”

She laughed at my exaggeration.

“You weren’t seriously considering becoming a spook, were you?”

“No, the intellectual challenge was tempting but I get enough of that keeping hackers out of the bank.”

“I’d have thought that was challenging enough.”

“Sometimes, but we’ve got a good team now and they’d probably cope without me.”

“So what would you like to do?”

She came and sat next to me. “Not sure, sometimes I think it would be nice to be a wife and mother, but that’s not going to happen is it?”

“Oh darling, don’t upset yourself,” I put my arm round her. “I didn’t think it would ever happen to me and you’re so much prettier and clever than I am.”

“Yeah, hasn’t done me a lot of good has it.”

I didn’t know what to say so said nothing, just hugged her until she regained control of herself. Livvie came out into the kitchen and did a quick about turn without saying anything. I don’t think Sammi saw or heard her. Thank goodness it wasn’t Trish, she’d have gone into psychotherapist mode and demanded to know what was happening.

“Cathy,” called Simon’s voice.

“I’d better go and see what Daddy wants.” I excused myself, intercepting Simon as he was about to come into the kitchen.

“Toby has to go,” he said in his normal voice and then whispering added, “Where have you been, it looked as if you’d abandoned him.”

“I was busy in the kitchen, why?”

“I just told you, it looked like you’d deserted us.”

“I was giving you some space and sorting out the dishes.”

“Grabbing some space for yourself.”

“A bit of a breather, yes, why?”

“Nothing, just asking.”

I went to see Toby off, he said he had to pop in and see his mother and there was a case he was working on which would be easier to do while the office was quiet. I knew that feeling.

“Thanks for a brilliant lunch, Cathy. It was really good.”

“Thank you for my flowers,” he’d given me a bouquet.

“You’re welcome.”

He pecked me on the cheek, shook Simon’s hand and called goodbye to the girls.

“If you need help, you know where to find me,” called Sherlock Watts from the lounge. I nearly burst trying to stifle a laugh, Simon just roared and Toby chuckled.

“She means it,” I added.

“I know, but it wouldn’t look too good if she solved it first would it, given I’m supposed to be the professional.”

“As a consulting detective, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind at all.”

“Consulting detective? Didn’t Sher...”

I smiled at him and nodded.

“Wasn’t Mycroft supposed to be better?” he said very quietly.

“Yeah but she’s in the kitchen,” I said referring to Sammi.

“Nice girl,” he observed.

“Yeah and she’s gonna stay that way,” said Simon firmly.

“She’s a bit young for me anyway,” sighed Toby and with that he went out into the drizzle and we waved as he drove off moments later.

“He’d better not be sniffing around Sammi,” declared Simon in anything but the spirit of Christmas, “Bad enough knowing he fancies you.”

“So why did you get me to invite him?”

“Dunno, must be getting soft in me old age. What’s for tea?”