Easy As Falling Off a Bike pt 3281

The Weekly Dormouse.
(aka Bike, est. 2007)
Part 3281
by Angharad

Copyright© 2021 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 was a Sunday, Palm Sunday, if I recall correctly when everyone in my junior school used to go to church and get a cross made of a strip of palm leaf. An old lady I knew when I was a girl, well, she thought I was one, told me that they protected the house from lightning strike, so I used to give her mine and she gave me a bar of chocolate in exchange - I thought it was a fair exchange anyway and better than the year she gave me a hot cross bun instead. I ate it but it wasn't the same and I felt a bit cheated.
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The girls decided they wanted to go to church to get their own crosses, least those who were still attending the convent, so Tom and I got up early and got the girls showered and dressed in something reasonably smart and breakfasted. The girls thought school uniform would have been appropriate until I pointed out their school was Roman Catholic and the church we were attending was Anglican. I doubted it would cause an international incident at the same time I didn't want anyone remembering us too vividly because I didn't intend showing my face there again in a hurry. Nothing personal - well, I suppose there is, I'm not a believer and only there as a taxi service to my girls - the things I do...

The service was okay, it was a family service not a communion one, so it was more relaxed and they got their crosses, so they were happy. If only all life was so easily sorted.

My office the next morning was full of boxes, about twenty large cardboard boxes. On asking Diane why we appeared to have become a warehouse, she gasped and exclaimed, "Whorehouse? Professor, really."

"I said warehouse, you know, places full of boxes," I patted one to make my point, "such as all these. May I ask why they are all in here?"

"They haven't got room in the biology lab."

"What are they?" I could see they were marked fragile and glass but that didn't tell me what sort of glass, anything from test tubes to petri dishes or even larger bits of kit.

"Microscopes, or they should be."

"We've bought twenty microscopes?"

"Yes, they're stereo ones, if that means anything to you."

I nodded.

"It's for Debbie to use for dissection classes."

"Okay, so why are they up here?"

"The porters had to bring them up from the lab because we're having work done there over the holiday, a slight matter of a small leak."

"A large flood, if I remember correctly." It was from the chemistry lab upstairs and came through the ceiling, bringing much of the ceiling with it and destroying microscopes and all sorts of glassware which had been put out by the technician ready for a class the next day. The new ones were paid for by the insurance company.

"Anyway, the store room in the lab is full of the stuff from the lab cupboards because the builders won't be supervised as everyone is on holiday."

"I thought tradesmen had to be supervised in the laboratory areas, I'm sure I read it somewhere."

She reached under her desk and pulled out the rule book and passed it to me. "You look, I've loads of typing to do unless you'd prefer to do that, instead."

I took the book and shook my head, we'd condemned twenty microscopes but only fifteen were damaged, and one of the undamaged ones went missing. It's funny but it closely resembled one I have at home - they are so useful, long arm stereo-microscopes and we still had four more than we started with. I enquired about repairs to the damaged ones and it was only going to cost about two thousand for the fifteen damaged ones, got Simon to underwrite it as a donation and we offered them to three local schools, who couldn't believe their luck.

The builders actually started on the Tuesday, as they had plaster and stuff which needed to dry out before they could paint it, so I went and spoke with the foreman of the three who arrived. I made him understand that anything that went missing would involve a police investigation. He didn't like my attitude and I don't think I liked his, so I asked for his boss' phone number. He reluctantly gave it to me.

"Now, Mr Spargo, I can have your agreement that you will show respect to the university and its possessions and equipment and I will trust you to your word. If anything untoward happens, I trust you will let me know immediately." I handed him one of my cards. It is designed to impress, 'Professor Catherine Watts, PhD, MSc, BSc, Professor of the Faculty of Science, Portsmouth University.' It gave my email address and telephone number and I added my mobile as I wouldn't be here over the holidays except to take a turn feeding the dormice, which I'd agreed to do Easter Day and the Monday which was a bank holiday. If I got up early, I could cycle in and feed the mice and be home again before most of the others were up.

Mr Spargo read my card and seemed impressed. "This is you?" he asked a bit more respectfully.

"It is."

"So what are you professor of exactly?" seemed a reasonable question to someone who didn't look as if he'd been to a university himself.

"All of the sciences, Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Geology, Microbiology, Marine Biology, BioChemistry..."

"Crikey, you're a bit young to have all that responsibility, aren't you?"

"Age isn't a requirement, Mr Spargo, competence is. I do have a staff of professors under me, I'm like the dean of the faculty used to be, but they decided to call it a super professor. So essentially, I'm responsible for everything of the Earth Sciences? Material Sciences from rock samples to dormice."

"Dormice, crikey, I ain't seen one o'them since i was a nipper, we lived out in the country and the cat brought one in."

I frowned, don't cats realise they're protected species? On reflection, our own little psycho wouldn't give a monkey's. "We have dormice in the lab next door."

"Really?"

"Yes, really, want to see one?"

"Oh wow," he said, "I'd give me eye-teeth." Needless to say, I didn't take him up on his offer but I did show him some of our resident Muscardinidae, I also had to show them to his workmates but they were all entranced as most people are and I had to give them an impromptu talk on our little furries.

"I wish I could show them to my little girl," said Mr Spargo.

"Are you working here on Sunday?" I enquired.

"Not Easter Day, no, but we are on the Monday."

"I shall be here on Monday between eight and half past to feed them, bring her in then and she can see a dormouse."

"Oh that's wunnerful," he said, "We'll be yer."

"Right I have loads to do," I left them to their preparations, removing damaged ceiling plaster and so on. When I got back to my office, which was a bit like working either side of the Berlin Wall, but the effort required to move the boxes was too much as would the time it would have taken, so we coped for a whole week walking around them or throwing bits of paper to each other over the top of them.

Eventually, Good Friday arrived and I had a few days off, though I had remembered i was feeding dormice on Sunday and Monday. Once Danielle learned that she was surreptitiously asking me if she could come as well. I reminded her it would be early and she smiled and said, "We takin' the bikes?"

"That was my intention."

"Deal me in," she said and disappeared. I thought teenagers were supposed to hate going to bed or getting up. Perhaps the hormones do something to her, in which case why don't they do the same to me? I only get up because I have to, though I've never been much of a lie-abed.

I got chocolate for all the girls and one for Stella and her two, plus something for Si and Daddy, Easter was proving expensive. David I gave his favourite Toblerone, the triangular chocolate bar, Stella had Green and Black's, the girls all had a chocolate orange, Daddy had a Famous Grouse chocolate and Si I gave box of Lindt chocolates.

Danni rode with me to see to the dormice on Easter Sunday and we came home via quick trip up on to the downs. I was glad I'd wrapped up a bit as the wind was cold and quite a strong breeze was blowing. Monday, they were forecasting possible snow showers in Scotland and parts of northern England. As they say, In Britain there is more chance of snow at Easter than there is at Christmas, yep, spot on.

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