We were still standing about talking when Montgomery appeared. “Ah, Professor, if I might have a word?”

“A quick one, unless you want to come for lunch, Cathy is coming, aren’t you sweetie-pie?”

“Actually, I was going to…” I started, but the look Tom gave me suggested I accept his offer. “…to pop to the loo, before we went.”

“Hurry along then, oh, Colin, you’ve met my adopted daughter, Cathy Watts, soon to be the Lady Catherine Cameron.” The old buzzard made me blush. I nodded, then nipped off to the loo. “Weak bladders, these women,” I heard Tom’s voice as I scurried off. I’ll poison him later!

I did use the loo and checked my hair and makeup, they were fine, I hadn’t really done anything to mess them. When I returned, neither Tom nor Montgomery were there, just Pippa whose fingers were flying about the keyboard. I hoped they’d gone with out me.

“They’ll be back for you in two minutes–I don’t know if that’s in real time or Tom Time.” Pippa smiled as she said this, Tom was renowned for his ability to become so absorbed in anything that he’d forget to breathe if he wasn’t reminded to.

I sat on the edge of Pippa’s desk. “What sort of time do you want me to call by?” She looked at me oddly. “To mention bikes…”

“Oh, yes of course; afternoon any good?” I’d have preferred mornings, but I suppose the boys would still be in bed.

“I’ll try and text you while I’m out.”

“That’d be great, oh here they come.” I glanced down the corridor and the two men were in an animated discussion as they approached us. They were still talking when they went past us, not noticing either Pippa or me.

“If it had been warmer, I had thought to come in just my bra and pants, maybe they would notice me then.” I said loudly.

“They might not, but I would,” said Roy, the new security man. I blushed and wished I hadn’t said anything.

“Are you coming or not?” called Tom from the main door, then returned to his conversation.

“My invitation to lunch has just arrived, see you later.” I said as I clicked my way down the corridor to where the two men were standing and still talking.

“We’ll use your car, girl,” Tom said and I led them to it and opened it. I drove to the usual place and they were still rabbiting.

Tom led us into the restaurant and ordered his usual chicken curry, Montgomery chose the same, I went for the tuna jacket–so, I’m predictable. The conversation continued about diatoms and plankton and global warming. I stayed aloof.

“But these are much better indicators of global warming than mammals or birds,” said Montgomery and my ears pricked up.

“We know that,” agreed Tom.

“So why are they persisting in this horrendously expensive survey of mammals, when a much cheaper one is available?”

“Hang on,” I entered the fray, unleashing the little strap of the hammer on my six gun. I strolled towards my opponent. “This survey isn’t just about global warming, if it was a thermometer would be cheaper still. This is about the current status of British mammals, much of which we don’t know.”

“I disagree, my source in Whitehall, said it was about global warming, and they were only using mammals because the public identified with them much more than they did with microbes.”

“Is he more reliable than the under secretary of state?” I asked, now feeling angry, although I knew I had to keep calm and take this guy out with logic not emotion–the moron probably didn’t have any, anyway.

“He’s a politician, they all lie.”

“What? At a private dinner party, with the other sponsors present? Lie at a meeting with representatives of the European Union, in front of the press and hierarchy of this university? Those are powerful accusations to bring, Mr Montgomery. I’d be careful where you voice them unless you wish to defend a libel case.”

I felt rather than saw Tom wince, I was not helping his digestion, not that I cared, I was now on the attack.

“Even if he didn’t lie, it is obviously part of the government agenda.”

“Government might have it’s own agenda, the EU has theirs, and we and the Mammal Society, have ours. On the surface, and the one to which we are adhering, is a better understanding of the status of mammals in the United Kingdom, so we can take steps to protect those who need it and so forth. It’s also about testing protocols and procedures for a larger study across Europe. There are still people looking at pond-water and testing your precious plankton, without which the largest mammals on the planet couldn’t live. But to suggest suspending the survey demonstrates a total lack of understanding of the entire project and its sponsors.”

“Like High Street Banks; how are they profiting from such a study unless it’s about counting the number of other rats they’re in competition with, or is daddy in law doing it to keep you in a job?”

“Colin, I think you’d better withdraw that remark,” Tom said this very quietly, but with sufficient menace to get Montgomery’s attention.

“Well it is isn’t it? What effect will mammal populations have upon them or their business?”

“Sometimes the reasons they do things are best left unknown. However, this is a big publicity campaign they’re mounting about them being environmentally aware.”

“So they get some bimbo to pose with a dormouse–yeah, really environmentally aware.”

“You arsehole, I’m not a bimbo,” I said as I stood up and slapped him hard enough to knock him off his chair. I stormed out of the restaurant and got in my car. I was so cross I was hyperventilating.

Tom came out a moment later. “You saved me hitting him, but you need to control your temper, Cathy. He obviously didn’t recognise you from the posters.”

“No my hair was different. He is total pond-life, just as well I’m not needed at the office, I’d kill him in a week.”

“Can you come back so he can apologise to you?”

“I could, but I won’t.”

“Please, Cathy, I’m asking you.”

“I can’t guarantee not to hit him again and harder.”

“You will young lady, I have asked you not to hit him, so you won’t. Now come on, my curry is going cold.” I reluctantly followed Tom back into the restaurant, Montgomery was sitting at the table with a large red mark about the size of my hand across his cheek.

He looked at me and glared for a moment until he saw Tom watching him. “I’m sorry I called you a bimbo, I didn’t recognise you from the posters.”

“I’m not sorry I slapped you, you asked for it, however, I accept your apology. Tom, I am leaving now, I’ve lost my appetite.” I rose despite his protests and set off towards the door.

“Lady Catherine,” I turned to look for the new voice, it was the manager of the restaurant, “you’re leaving without your meal.”

“I’ve lost my appetite, I’m sorry.”

“Please wait for two minutes.”

“I have to go,” I said.

“Please wait, two minutes, not longer.” He almost ran off to the kitchen and a couple of minutes later he returned carrying a box. Inside was a plate with my meal, cutlery and a napkin, plus a bottle of mineral water. “Please take this with you.” He bundled the box into my hands and walked off.

I took it and left the restaurant. I drove to a picnic site a few miles away and sat and ate my lunch. It obviously wasn’t very warm by then, but at least I could eat it in peace.