The Weekly Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3461 by Angharad Copyright© 2024 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 night was noisy and kept me awake at times but the next day was better and the winds more gentle, although strong enough to require some form of coat. Danni's mood or sulk had abated a bit like the weather and after breakfast we ventured out into the garden and she took photos and measurements of the hole the prostrate tree roots had created. It was easily a metre across and well over half a metre in depth, so apart from measuring its dimensions we also made a suggestion of its volume, and while Danni was calculating that I took a sample of the water already lining the bottom of the hole which was about 10 cms deep, I sucked it up with a small pipette and put it into a series of small tubes which were designed for using in a centrifuge' I then sealed these and put them in a small plastic bag and shoved them in the fridge in my study - I know, so opulent, but it comes in handy and I don't get complaints from David. He has never forgiven me for keeping a dead otter in the freezer, waiting for Cardiff University to collect it, which they did eventually. We almost came to blows and I nearly asked them to collect him as well. The recent brouhaha about my nets and other equipment in the kitchen reminded me how easily good friends can become sworn enemies.

I took one of the phial type bottles into work with me and offered it to Mike to analyse, telling where it came from and how Danni was intending to measure its colonisation as her BSc dissertation. He looked askance for a moment then smiled at me and offered her support if she needed it. I thanked him and told him she was busy measuring everything at the moment. He was doing a study of several holes. Whereas hers was one of the changes occurring at one hole during a series of months, his study could last several years. He smiled in a much more confident way at my disclosure indicating that there was no conflict of interest and I also told him that I was his supervisor but just a supporter for her, helping with identification with any species we found and its implication for her study. Sometimes I wished she'd studied physics and then there'd be no overlaps or potential conflicts, but no, I don't really, I quite like being on the periphery of Danni's project, which reminded me that Sarah was looking for a study subject as well. I suggested doing something with spiders, but they're not her favourite form of wildlife, can't think why.

My time as an undergraduate seemed much fuller than my daughters' but I suppose soccer does take time out of Danni's but enables her to run a newish car but we all realise that sporting careers tend to be rather ephemeral and age and injury tend to have some limitations on them. I was reminded of a chap I knew at Sussex; he was a post grad student and I was a first year undergraduate. He was also quite tall and broad with it and a keen squash player, I played the odd game of badminton when they were short for the numbers to play a game.

John Terrence was my post grad associate and he explained that he was interested in something to do with the palps of spiders. Trying to show my cleverness, I asked him if he meant pedipalps and he told me if that had been the case he'd have said so. I blushed at his reply, it was one of the things I was really good at, blushing.

"Look don't take this the wrong way, but are you a poof?"

"I don't think so, why?"

"You look more girl than boy; you have tits, don't you?"

If I blushed before, I was positively incandescent at this. "Um, it's just puppy fat," was my reply.

He looked at me more deeply than before, "How can it be puppy fat? You may have a pair of puppies up your jumper, but the rest of you is as skinny as they come. Your arse is also more girlie than a boy's should be and your voice hasn't broken yet has it? Are you taking hormones?"

"No I'm not, I can't help it if my body does its own thing," I answered him but also felt my eyes brimming with tears.

"Okay, look I didn't mean to upset you, so don't cry. Look are you a boy or a girl?"

"I think I'm turning into a girl, which I suspect I should have been all along, but my father is determined that I am a boy, even if my biology seems to try and prove him wrong."

"So is it Charlie or Charlotte, I've noticed that you answer to either and old Butterworth seems to think you're a girl."

"I don't care, it's not important really."

"Yes it is, I don't want to embarrass you and what you call yourself tends to indicate how you see yourself."

"As a bit of a mess to be honest but I am increasingly seeing myself as a girl."

"Right, Charlotte it is, don't worry I'll try not to embarrass you."

"Okay, and I'll try not to call you Spiderman."

We both laughed at the thought of him swinging through Brighton like a high-tech Tarzan, using the supposed gooey gossamer stuff of spiders instead of the traditional lianas, just as well I suppose, Brighton is singularly short of the latter.

"You're good with slides aren't you?"

"I suppose I get by making them," I answered.

"Go on, Butterworth seems to think you are the bees knees."

"I've done a few of those while I was at school, despite a homophobic monster of a headmaster. I used to hide in the biology lab and one of the technicians took me under his wing and taught me lots about making slides. He was really ace at it and became increasingly proficient. Butterworth has shown me some advanced techniques as well, he really is a love isn't he?"

"Only a girl would say that, Charlotte." To say I blushed would be an understatement, if I'd had erections, which I didn't, I would probably have fallen over through shortage of blood, thankfully I didn't. I wasn't sure what was going on with my body but it seemed to become more female every year and I wasn't doing anything to encourage or prevent it nor was I having it investigated. I did feel myself female really, and I didn't want my hopes to be squashed by some unhelpful medic.

"Look if I dissect out these palps can you make some slides of it? If you ask old Butterworth if we can borrow one of the tech rooms or a bench in his lab to do so, I'm sure he'll let you."

"Why don't you ask him, you're the lead researcher?"

"If you want me too, but I've seen the way he looks at you and I think he'll grant you almost anything."

"Why?"

"Because he thinks you're a very pretty young woman and he has a soft spot for you because you are unaware of it, aren't you?" I laughed in response.

"I know he wears glasses but he isn't blind."

"When did you last look in a mirror?" asked Mike.

"This morning when I brushed my hair, cleaned my teeth and washed, why?"

"Because they all think you're a pretty girl, not some effeminate bloke." I had to think carefully what he was saying. I was seventeen and away from home for the first time. My father was partly supporting me, so I couldn't afford to piss him off, plus I was on the verge of taking out a student loan to buy a bike. I knew how I felt, I just didn't realise they all knew it and here was a boy older and wiser than I was, telling me that I was pretty. Oh shit, shit shit!

After our embarrassing introduction, we got on quite well. Mike was aware that legally I was male and that stopped him from thinking that I was available for more than making slides. Over the next month, I spent every spare moment in Butterworth's lab or his back room making slides for Mike. Butterworth looked at my work and told me I was streets ahead of the average biologist and maybe I should consider microbiology. His flattery was pleasant but then I also had to remember if he thought I was a pretty young woman, he could be a dirty old man and that was a bit frightening. In fact, he wasn't, he was a lovely old thing and when I was making slides for all and sundry and making a few pounds along the way, he made no objections although it was obvious that several of the subjects that I was mounting on the glass slides were not something that undergraduates should be playing with, but I was getting a reputation as the person to go to if they wanted a slide made. In fact Butterworth asked me to do some for his department.

These were some unusual items, either from abroad or donated from various sources including abattoirs and other departments. When I asked why he wasn't doing them himself as the local expert, he answered, "Why should I when I can defer to my lovely assistant who is actually better at it than I am. Remember I do pay you for any we decide to keep for the collection."

"You don't need to do that, Dr Butterworth, it's my pleasure and I do owe you for allowing me to use your lab so often."

"Miss Watts, your presence is always a delight and your technique is quite brilliant and worth every penny."

"Yeah, and how long will they last when used by students?"

"I hope for many years, we have a technician who is photographing all of them and we hope to have a digital library available for use by the hoi polloi by next year, so your slides may last many years."

So he continued to be my favourite lecturer while I was at Sussex and I spent many happy hours playing with microscopes in his laboratory. As for Mike, once he got the slides he wanted our association declined especially when he was invited to bring his girlfriend along to one or two social things. He didn't give me away but he just told them we weren't an item and that I wasn't interested in relationships. Half my contemporaries thought I was an effeminate boy and the others weren't sure. But I was one hell of a slide maker.