The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1752 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I stayed up after Dr Smith came and went, he told me that transsexualism seemed to be increasing exponentially and he joked asking me if I’d infected half his practice. Perhaps I had, I told him that I was willing to help any children who turned up but I thought I’d helped enough adults to last me a lifetime. He nodded but still chuckled.

“Cathy, if half the people I treat had half your motivation, I could play much more golf without feeling I’ve neglected anyone.”

“I’ve never had a yen to play that,” I admitted.

“Well I know about your cycling, what other sport would you have liked to try?” he asked as he was going.

“Sub aqua, but I’m not much of a swimmer.”

“You could improve that by practice.”

“Yeah, if I could combine it with sleeping, that would be great.”

“How’s the PhD?”

“Alive and well, or it would be if I had more time.”

“Get someone in to do your cleaning and cooking, it’s not as if you can’t afford it, is it?”

“I haven’t got time to advertise, let alone interview someone.”

“I’m sure this is half your problem, woman, you do too much.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But if you got someone in to cook and shop for you that would release a couple of hours a day.”

“Yeah okay, if you find anyone suitable send ’em along.”

He crossed the threshold and paused. “I know you said you didn’t want any adult transsexuals, but I have a patient who’s a qualified chef, who’s looking for work.”

“Oh, what’s her name?”

“His name, David.”

“Oh, not sure if I want a man in my home. I thought you said they were...”

“He is, he’s gone the opposite way to you.”

“I see, I suppose about three foot six and hips like a sumo wrestler?”

“No, I know that’s the stereotype, but he’s tall, taller than you and he does have a beard, same as most new women have long hair whether it suits them or not.”

I played with mine, which was well below my shoulders, and blushed.

“I didn’t mean it about you–you look so female anyway, no one would ever guess.”

“Ask this David to give me a call will you?”

“Yes, of course I will–cripes, look at the time, I’ve got two more visits to do yet.” He practically ran to his car, a little Citrá¶en C1. I was quite surprised he managed to fit in it as he’s quite tall.

I went back in after seeing the doctor off–he’s such a lovely man. “We might be having someone to do the cooking,” I announced to Stella and Jacquie.

“About time, too; I’ve been telling you for yonks to get someone. When will she come to see you?”

“He–and I don’t know.”

“A man, you’re employing a man?” she gasped.

“Yes, the doctor said he knew of someone who was in need of work.”

“I’d feel happier with a woman, rather than a man about the place–will the children be safe? I mean he’s not a sex-offender or something, is he?”

“Stella, calm down. He might not want the job and we might not want him.”

“I’m telling you now, I don’t.”

“Don’t prejudge things. When he finds it’s a part time job, he might not be interested.”

“I really don’t know about having a man in the house. I won’t be able to sleep at night.”

“Stop being hysterical, Stella. He won’t be here at night, he’ll be here I would imagine from mid morning until early evening. He can make dishes we only have to warm up or leave cooking gently until either you or I or Jacquie can dish up. He can also do the food shopping. It will save me a couple of hours a day, which at least means I can get on with the survey and my PhD.”

“Doctor Cameron, sounds good,” said Jacquie smiling at me.”

I smiled back, “Yeah, I suppose it does.”

“Yes well, Dr Kildare, what about this rapist you’re going to employ, who’s probably a sex offender and will kill us all in our beds.”

I felt like saying, ‘As long as he starts with you and does it quietly, I will still employ him,’ but it was as unkind as Stella was being over the top.

The conversation moved on and I made some soup which we ate with some bread Jacquie had made in the machine earlier. I suggested if we did employ this man, he could show her some easy recipes and how to cook and prepare food. She seemed quite in favour of the idea.

I was collecting up the dishes when the phone rang. Stella got to it first, “It’s for you, David somebody or other.”

I wiped my hands and took the phone. “Hello, Cathy Cameron speaking.”

“Um, Mrs Cameron,” said a definite male voice, “It’s David Voyce, Dr Smith gave me your number.”

“Ah, the gentleman about the cooking?”

“Yeah, that’s me. When would be convenient to come and see you?”

“How urgently d’you want the work?”

“I’m desperate, so the sooner the better.”

“Come round now, if you’re available.”

“I am, where have I got to come?”

I gave him directions and he offered to attend in twenty minutes.”

I decided the kitchen would be the place to hold the interview and invited Stella to take part and Tom as he had just arrived. He declined saying anyone I approved of would be fine by him. I asked him if he’d collect the girls and he nodded and went off to write a bit more of his biography. I asked Jacquie if she wanted to sit in and she wasn’t sure. So I asked her to sit in and simply observe. She liked that.

As I heard a car turn into the drive I boiled the kettle and made some tea as Jacquie let him in. I shook his hand as he entered and I couldn’t believe he’d ever been anything but a man. He was about five foot nine, broad shouldered and very good looking. He had a goatee beard with moustache and his hair was dark and curly. His dark eyes sparkled like two pools of water.

He accepted the cup of tea I made and then shook hands with Stella–she was impressed–she didn’t ask him once if he was sex offender or mad axe murderer, only when could he start.

I asked him to tell us about himself, which he did, without mentioning his transsexualism–fair enough, I didn’t say anything about mine or Julie’s or Trish or Sammi. It wasn’t relevant as long as he could cook and organise my kitchen.

Stella asked him about his work experience. He was thirty two and had worked in commercial and private employment. I asked about what sort of meals he’d make for us–I explained the household.

“That would depend upon how many hours I have to work.” He then suggested menus that had my stomach rumbling and my saliva glands working overtime.

After an hour, I looked at Stella who nodded. I told him the pay I was prepared to offer and that I’d make a small contribution to travel costs if he worked late. I also told him we might need extra hours at short notice and he replied he wasn’t too worried about that–he needed the money. I also suggested we tried employing him for a month on a trial basis and then looked to a more indefinite contract after that subject to a mutual agreement. He agreed.

I liked him, and then asked him if he could start tomorrow. He swallowed hard and agreed. He’d come tomorrow mid morning and would improvise with what we had in the fridge.

Jacquie saw him off and as she did so Maureen arrived. “We have planning permission to convert the one outhouse to living accommodation.”

“Oh good, when can you start?”

“Well, Ma’am, I thought we could get it underway while you’re away. It’ll take about a month.”

“Is that all?”

“Oh yes, the basic structure is sound it’s simply about installing a bathroom and kitchen, most of the other work I did on the quiet. Then all we have to do is decorate.”