Easy As Falling Off a Bike pt 3262

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The Weekly Dormouse.
(aka Bike, est. 2007)
Part 3262
by Angharad

Copyright© 2020 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 spent a very strange evening and night at home, where the children were better behaved than I'd expected given the morning squabbles and then Hannah took me to one side to say, "I'm on the rag, Mummy." I nearly fell over. Having regained my composure explained that it wasn't a nice expression to use though I suspect I knew where it came from, which she confirmed. It also explained why she'd been a bit testy the last couple of days. It was her first period, though she seemed to know as much about them as I did without necessarily appreciating, she would have them for another forty years. I took her upstairs and gave her a box of pads and put a draw sheet on her bed.

"I'm not going to wet the bed, Mummy," she said looking indignantly at me.

"I know that sweetheart, but sometimes it leaks out past the pad."

"Okay," she shrugged, "you have more experience than I do," she said without any sense of irony and skipped back down the stairs. I suspected that she had forgotten my alternative route to womanhood, temporarily at least. I wasn't sure if I felt comforted by that or not.

Simon phoned from London, to thank us for keeping Henry alive, he was making good progress and they hoped he would be out of hospital in the next day or so. I did continue to send him healing when I remembered, but last night it had eluded my memory and besides, I was so tired I couldn't afford either the time or the effort. Tonight I would try to remember and left myself a note, which was spotted by Trish who told the others and they wanted to take part in a group session again, for Grandpa Henry. I felt humbled but also encouraged by it, especially when they all agreed.

Tom came in and asked me into his study. That was unusual. "Weel, whit's gang tae happen wi' Dawes?"

"I'll play it by ear, but I have accepted his apology. Why?"

"Frae whit ye telt me afore, he wis transphobic an' aggressive w it."

I nodded. "Diane has already sent him a copy of the university's policy on diversity and equality with a letter asking for him to say that he's read it and understands it. I think it points out quite clearly that no prejudice against any minority will be tolerated."

"Aye, but keep it on his record whit happened and his volte-face and yer reaction tae it. I canna abide bigots."

"I don't know if it he believed that I had deceived him that made him blow up or that he's fancied me and found I wasn't quite what he thought I was."

"That's irrelevant, Cathy, and I want ye tae keep yer eye on him, any slight deviation from the policy and he goes, an' if ye dinna sack him, I wull."

I was slightly taken aback by his irritation with what had happened, but it seemed to get right up his nostril and he was possibly trying to sneeze it out by laying down the law. I was secretly pleased by his support for me, but when I thought about it, I should have expected it. He was very protective of his family and I loved him for it, as did his grandchildren.

I went to bed after we did the healing for Henry, just after I'd seen Danni and the others off to bed. I think I went off as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was so tired but the night was filled with strange dreams and not as restful as it might have been. One was a flashback to the biology lab, prep room where I used to play for hours slicing things on microtomes to make slides having treated them with various chemicals then soaking them in wax or placing them in between bits of cork to enable them to be sliced. Sometimes we used carrot instead of cork as it was easier to slice.

I was in the lab when ol' Butterworth, addressed me as MIss Watts and asked if I could provide a sample of menstrual blood for slides. I felt myself blush and stutter an answer which he pooh-poohed and asked me again. It seemed to be on some sort of recurring tape because it happened several times, each time I got hotter and hotter. Of course, it never happened and never would because the question would be outrageous and inappropriate even in those days and besides, Butterworth was a lovely old chap, a proper old gent and I loved him for it because he treated me with courtesy as he would any of the other women. I still woke up in a sweat though and had to go to the loo when I did. It took me a little while to get back to sleep after that as I mused on the dream.

The next morning it was back to the usual bedlam of breakfast on a working day and the girls playing up. Thankfully, David came to make breakfast and when he offered bacon and eggs, I couldn't refuse. I couldn't remember when I'd last had this comfort food and the girls scoffed down some as well. He took them off to school while I loaded the dishwasher and then scrambled off myself afterwards.

Breakfast was probably the high point of my day, except I wanted to say thank you to Diane for yesterday. So I bought her some Lindt chocolates on the way in. She did the usual thing of, 'You shouldn't have,' while dumping them in her bag very quickly, possibly before I took them back.

Daddy phoned at ten, while Diane and I were up to our eyeballs in paperwork, to invite me to lunch and I told him I was going to take Diane to lunch as she'd given up hers a couple of times during the past week, and he invited her as well. When I told her, she shook her head and reminded her that he was the Vice-Chancellor and only I ever said no to him ( and probably his secretary did also ) but not lowly life forms like my secretary. She shrugged and muttered as we searched for a contract I needed to see. Normally her filing system was faultless, so she muttered severally that I must have removed it earlier or never given it to her.

"Diane, the only thing I file in this office is my nails, everything else I leave to you because if I upset your system there'd be hell to pay."

"So it should be, but professor, I only file what you give me."

"But I'm sure I did. I took it home to work on it and..." I blushed.

"You left it there. I think you owe me an apology for all this mess I shall have to clear up before we go to lunch."

"Okay, I apologise, I'll help you to refile it all."

"Oh no you won't, if I do it, I know it's in proper order. Last time you helped it took me a week to sort it out. So go and make the tea and let me get on, um...professor." I caught her blushing just a fraction proving she wasn't a machine, though if she was she was the first one I knew which ran on expensive chocolate. I made the tea and retreated to my inner office to drink it remembering I had a couple of Lotus biscuits in my desk drawer--except when I looked they weren't there. I tried to shove the drawer back in as she entered my room.

"You ate them last week," she said grabbed some files and disappeared behind the closing door. I simply sat and shook my head, that woman was something else.

Tom duly turned up at nearly half-past twelve and Diane had not long finished refiling everything. I wondered if she'd file the biscuits under B or L. I nearly asked her but thought better of it because she'd only come back at me with, "Under H for Hobnobs." or something similar.

We went to lunch and once she told Tom how much extra work I caused her, we settled down to a pleasant meal. When she slipped off to the loo before we left the restaurant, Tom told me he was nagged by his secretary every bit as much as I was. When she returned she gave us both a strange look because we were smiling at his revelation. Driving back I was thinking of the old sign I'd once seen in a pub which proclaimed, 'I'm the boss, my wife said so,' which caused me to have a very uncomfortable thought. If translated to my situation, it would read, 'I'm the boss, my secretary said so.' In which case was I acting like a husband and she as a wife? Pretty well all the secretarial staff across the university were women, there was one man but he was gay, not that was a consideration, and his boss was a woman.

In the end, I reconciled myself to the fact, that I was a female, just a high status one and we all had minions, then I looked at Diane and blushed, if she ever read my mind, she'd kill me.

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Comments

used to love them

Maddy Bell's picture

Hundreds and Minions, I used to get 2oz for my home 'tuck shop', a quarter was too much! Not had any Minions for a while now, guess you have to go a specialist sweety shop these days.

Another nice chapter.

BTW, did you see the Dormouse camped out in a bird feeder in the press yesterday?


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Madeline Anafrid Bell

Another entertaining chapter

Robertlouis's picture

And like Ms Bell, I spotted the story about the pre-hibernatory dormouse trapped in the bird feeder on the Isle of Wight and rescued by the local Dormouse Group.

I had happy visions of Professor Watts leaping hotfoot from the Portsmouth ferry to supervise the rescue party so that fiction could meet nicely with fact.

Well, we can all dream!

Rob x

☠️

Dormouse in bird feeder

Angharad's picture

I had several people send me pictures. I don't remember saying they were very bright, just gorgeous.

Angharad

A good episode

A quietish night at home, Henry on the mend, Tom ready to battle for Cathy and now the case of the previously eaten biscuits.
All is well in Cathyland. That's why I love to read this wonderful saga.
Great writing as always, Angharad
Love to all
Anne G.

Sometimes, no, often,

your writings of Cathy's trials and tribulations leave me with a smug feeling of happiness. This was such a one. Why smug? I don't know, because all the effort was yours, I merely read it.
Thanks
Dave

It is always good

Wendy Jean's picture

to see a new chapter, be it daily, weekly , monthly or yearly. I really enjoy your writing Ang.

Thanks for another great

Thanks for another great chapter, Angharad.

Care to share the picture of the dormouse in the birdfeeder?

Teddie

Good to see

a mention of Simon, Its been a while since he has featured in the story, Probably been Christmas before he makes it back to Cameron Towers,Then Cathy will have to learn to share her bed again .... Not that i imagine she will mind that too much ;-)

Henry was mentioned too, I wonder if he remembered Cathys words when she helped bring him back from the clutches of Covid, Gods and Goddess's don't forget , Lets hope Henry doesn't !

Kirri

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