The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 2007 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I drove to the station in my car with Simon and Sammi, and it was quite pleasant chatting as we sat in first class drinking coffee and watching the countryside go by. All too soon we were heading into the built up areas of London and I saw the greenery give way to horrible grey yellow brickwork of half derelict buildings on which the graffiti vandals had been busy. I couldn’t call them artists because much of it is just sprayed initials of individuals or gangs. In some of the deserted properties not a single pane of glass survived the predation by vandals–an aspect of human behaviour I simply don’t understand.

I discussed this with the others and Simon asked me outright, “Haven’t you ever had the urge to just smash something to smithereens?”

“Why?”

“Because you could.”

“No, have you?”

“Yes,” he blushed, “and acted on it.”

“Oh, do tell us more,” I encouraged him while Sammi smirked.

“I was still at school–we had a summerhouse that the prefects used to use to have a sly fag.”

“Are we talking cigarette or some poor first former?”

“First former? What are you on about?”

“Fagging–you know at public schools?”

“Cathy, I went there in the Twentieth Century, not back when we still owned America.”

We both laughed at this and he continued: “They used to go there to smoke–sometimes a bit of weed, and a few drinks–all totally illegal, but the authorities turned a blind eye to it.”

“So the prefects were committing more offences than the kids they were supposed to be policing?”

“Yeah, natch, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t I what?”

“When you were a prefect?”

“I wasn’t a prefect–no one was going to appoint me as one–someone whom half the third form could beat up–come off it.”

“What about the Bristol fighting stuff, Mummy?”

“Okay, I’d devised a form of scrapping which involved using whatever was to hand and never considering you’re going to lose. You have to become the aggressor whatever happens–even if the odds are overwhelming. It also required doing things they weren’t expecting.”

“Like what?” she pushed.

“Well some kid was squaring up to me, legs apart to give me a pasting, so I jumped down at him, put one foot behind his leg and kicked his knee with the other.”

“What happened–did you break his leg?”

“No–he broke his arm falling and I broke his patella. It’s funny that although he made all sorts of threats against me, he never tried to enforce any of them. He used a stick in school for weeks–threatened me with it as well–until I kicked it away from him–accidentally of course–and he broke his collar bone.”

“Didn’t you get into trouble?”

“Murray was so incensed he nearly physically hit me.”

“Why–all you did was defend yourself?”

“Ah, sweet Sammi, I didn’t tell you he was the captain of the rugby team. Had he beaten me up, he probably would have got a scholarship. Alas, I didn’t I just acted all girly and asked in a simpering voice, did he really think, little ol’ me could hurt such a rough tough boy as Mintern? It worked. I was sent off with a flea in my ear that if I so much as touched him with my effeminate little hands again, Murray would expel me.”

“So he left you alone after that?”

“With one exception, somehow they got me onto a rugby field–you know wearing shorts and things and Mintern was on the other side. My side set me up, passing me the ball as he charged at me.”

“Goodness, what happened, Mummy?”

“I was smaller, lighter and extremely scared.”

“Yes?”

“So I simply sidestepped him, sold him a further dummy and left him trying to grasp air. I actually scored my one and only try that day.”

“Good for you, Mummy.”

I smirked. That wasn’t the end of the story by a long shot and Simon knew it.

“So their pack didn’t scrag you?”

“I didn’t give them the chance. I was set up again running with the ball only I passed it and dropped to the ground, Mintern fell over me and broke his other collar bone. I pretended he’d hurt me, he did give me quite a clout and lay still on the grass, I was eventually sort of dragged off–the games teacher having a good feel of my bum while he did so.”

Simon shook his head. “Serves the moron right, if you go out to hurt someone you usually end up hurt yourself–and the other guy usually has friends unless it was considered whatever he did was beyond the pale.”

“But I did, Si–I was the only girl in a boy’s school.”

“They didn’t try to set you up again?”

“No, Murray hauled me over the coals for damaging his captain again and I was told on no account was I to ever set foot on a rugby pitch again. I agreed and he threw me out of his office, he was so angry.”

A while later we were waiting on a tube station when I had a vision of some bloke dashing down the stairs and knocking a child onto the tracks. I didn’t think it was deliberate, more carelessness.

As we waited I gasped as the child, a little girl in a shiny waterproof coat with fairies painted all over it stood next to her mother. Sure enough, a minute or two later, this big chap came hurtling down the stairs and just as he would have collided with the little girl, I yanked her towards me and he ran smack into a pillar.

The little girl was crying, my grabbing her had frightened her, but her mother was really pleased I had. I could hardly say I saw it coming–five minutes before–could I? However when I looked behind me, I’d dropped my lap top which Sammi had seen and was desperately trying to get to work.

The paramedics coming to deal with the groaning lump still lying on the platform where he’d fallen meant the trains were stopped and we were beginning to run later than we’d anticipated.

Finally, we did get to the offices of the bank and Sammi hared off with my laptop to try and recover the contents of the hard disc. I was taken into an ante-room to sit and wait hoping she’d be in time. Simon pecked me on the cheek and went into the board room–I was due to present my report some half an hour after it started. I sat and waited, trying to see how I could improvise without the computer and my graphics. It’s not nearly as interesting with a flip chart and coloured marker pens.

For a moment I worried myself silly, then remembered I was a teacher and dealt with these situations regularly–I didn’t but I was trying to con myself–so should have the resources to make a decent fist of it come what may. They’d all have a copy of the report so really it was about fielding questions as they arose. Yeah, I’d cope.

“Dr Watts, if you could come with me,” asked a very fashionably dressed secretary, down to her six inch heeled platform shoes and tight skirt. I felt very drab compared to her ‘big hair’ and immaculate makeup–mine had been thrown on after my shower.

I set off to follow her and just in time heard a voice yelling, “Mummy, wait...”