The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1971 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

It was Wednesday, and the departure for Danny’s trip drew ever closer. I’d packed his bag three times and finally decided I couldn’t get the life-raft or bicycle in and do the zip up.

I abandoned my self-imposed task leaving mounds of stuff on his bed. Then after feeding Cate I took myself off for a couple of hours, having agreed supervision of my smallest with Jacquie. I dumped my wellingtons in the boot of the car and drove up to the woodland the bank had so kindly purchased as a reserve. Once there I looked at the maps 1:25,000 Ordnance survey and the pictures I’d printed off from Google and spent some time orienting myself. Finally, I donned my boots and my rucksack checking that my camera was in there and charged up.

It was now eleven o’clock and time for me to trudge through the snow and see if my idea was feasible. It wasn’t quite as cold as it had been but the wind still blew from the north and I was glad I’d remembered my gloves.

The first thing I saw were tracks, deer slots, fox and badger together with smaller animal tracks–probably mice and a larger one that could have been weasel hunting them. There were loads of bird tracks as they foraged in the snow presumably for seeds or even small invertebrates.

I saw some movement in the trees and through binoculars watched a flock of assorted tits–yeah the feathered sort–working a small group of trees. Blue tits–well it was cold–great tits, coal tits and what I’m pretty sure were siskin–hmm–too small for greenfinch.

A pair of crows were squawking their heads off as I walked deeper into the wood. I checked my maps, not far now. The architect suggested a site for the study centre near a small pond, I wasn’t sure about it but I had to make a better argument than just not liking it there. The only good thing was that it wasn’t too far into the wood, although there were two lanes that ran through it, both of which would need a four wheel drive to access on most stretches.

I wondered what might be in the pond–possibly newts, frogs even some small fish perhaps as well as invertebrates–dragonfly larvae and so on. It could be useful for encouraging schoolkids to become interested in aquatic life–I used to love it in school growing all sorts of things from pond water with some grass left to soak in it, or from pond mud left to stand overnight in a warm place. I might do that with the girls sometime, Trish has one of those microscopes you can plug into a computer, which might make it easier to view than waiting for a turn to look down a microscope.

I took some photos in every direction noting which view was which. It could work, except they’d have to destroy so many trees, including an oak. I needed to come back when there was no snow around and check for dormouse signs. If there’s any they can’t build it here.

I walked on and found the site I thought would be more useful–no water here to start with–it was closer to the road, albeit a lane rather than the main road. I wondered how close the services were, water and electricity. Gas wouldn’t come near here and would cost a fortune to supply, though electricity would be more expensive to use. Would we need phones? I checked my Blackberry, I had a signal–so if necessary a mobile would work.

I took some photos and marked where I was on the map. It was pretty flat and I thought accessible. We’d need to submit plans and get an outline design done for the building. I suspected it would take at least a year to build, then there was the problem of vandalism and petty theft in a building which most nights could be empty. Security would need to be very good to protect the equipment, computers and so on–oh we’d need broadband for that, so landline phones would be worth installing. I’d go for fibre-optics if possible–it isn’t worth stealing for scrap value.

I stood and ate an apple when I heard a noise just a few yards away, a badger trundled across in front of me. I grabbed my camera but it was too late, it had moved behind some trees. I picked up my apple and began to eat again and a great spotted woodpecker flew past saw me and started squawking at me. Then a pair of jays took up the call and boy, can they make a noise?

Any pretensions I had about being able to move about woodland quietly were shattered as I was accompanied by the cacophony of bird alarm calls all the way back to the car. Don’t the stupid creatures realise I’m on their side? Obviously not. I was glad I’d worn my Barbour and a hat because the drips from the trees were a real nuisance and my coat was quite wet.

It was about one o’clock when I got back to the car and I’d enjoyed my walk in the woods. I stopped at a service station a mile or so down the road and bought a tuna salad roll and a coffee–that took care of lunch.

I listened to the radio–Classic fm, on my drive back feeling relaxed and warm as the air conditioning in the Jaguar brought the temperature up to the twenty two degrees I set for it. It was too good to last, isn’t it always?

When I happened on the scene, I found a group of people and several cars obviously attracted by something. A bicycle lay in the road and my tummy flipped. I had a first aid kit in the car plus some experience of helping in emergencies and not just ones I cause. I pulled up at the side of the road and grabbing the case with its bandages and Savlon cream, walked quickly to the incident.

A cyclist was sprawled in the gutter, there was some blood and two people trying to help him. A small group of bystanders just stood and watched. I walked up to the casualty, clad in rather torn lycra. The bike was a Trek, a race type with carbon frame–alas broken. I hoped the rider was less damaged.

“Anyone called an ambulance?” I asked.

“Can’t get a signal,” was the response I got. I checked my phone–it was in a flat spot and nothing registered for me either. “How bad is he hurt?”

“She–it’s a woman.”

Images of Billie came flooding back and I strove to push them from my mind–I needed to help here. I walked closer to the casualty. Someone had placed a travel rug over her. I knelt down alongside her–she looked very sick.

“Have you got a mobile?” I asked a man who was standing doing nothing.

“Yeah, can’t get a signal.”

“Which is your car?”

“The red Corsa.”

“Right, can you go and find help, ask for ambulance and police. What happened?”

“Someone in a Polo hit her off and drove off.”

“Right, I’ll stay with her, you get help–go now–she’s in severe shock.”

“Yeah–okay.” He reluctantly went back to his car and drove off not entirely happy with my taking control.

“Okay, sweetheart,” I addressed the casualty, “My name’s Cathy and I’m going to stay with you until the professionals arrive.” I picked up her grazed hand–she was getting cold. In the boot of my car, I’ve got a travel rug–can you bring it?” I asked a woman who was just watching.

“Where does it hurt?” I asked her.

“I can’t feel anything,” she said in very quiet voice. It confirmed my own suspicions, she’d broken her neck. Was the energy going to help her in front of so many witnesses? I’d soon find out.