The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 2044 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I brushed the sand off my hands onto the blotter on my desk and then scooped it up onto a sheet of paper and put it in a small specimen bottle I had in the drawer. Things were getting weirder by the day. I’d heard of various magicians and supposed holy men being able to apport–that is produce material things out of thin air–but it had never occurred to me that I’d experience it.

I wrote the date on the label on the bottle and just the word, sand followed by a question mark. I assumed it was sand, it certainly felt like it and looked like it. As far as I knew I hadn’t touched any before or during my experience with Gloria, so quite whence it came, I had no idea–being somewhat opposed to the idea of manifestation on the grounds of sanity. My sanity, Harry Potter I wasn’t, nor did I see myself as Portsmouth’s answer to Sai Baba. I placed the bottle in the drawer again and shut it.

Shortly after sorting myself out from this my phone rang and Jason called to say that the police were being awkward with Neal, and despite his insistence, they would neither charge nor release him pending their continuing investigation. So for the moment bail was being challenged.

“Bugger, that means I need to check the dormice,” I said towards the end of this conversation causing Jason to chuckle. I explained that if Neal wasn’t working then I needed to go in and check them in the laboratory.

David was about to make omelettes for lunch and I was sorely tempted to stay and eat first, but decided I wouldn’t, I could always grab a sandwich later and to be honest, I wasn’t that hungry. I casually asked Phoebe if she wanted to come and saw she was very interested–well, it’s dormice, who wouldn’t be? She looked at her niece lying in the recliner and said she had to look after her.

Stella however, intervened. “Go on, I’ll watch her for an hour or two.”

“Are you sure, Auntie Stel?”

“Course, but any longer and we feed her to the dormice.”

Phoebe looked confused, “But I thought dormice ate acorns an’ things.”

“That’s what she wants you to believe,” she pointed at me, “because it’s easier to sell them on the awww factor, you know cuddly and sleep in teapots, that sort of thing when really they’re voracious predators.”

I snorted at this wondering if Stella had taken her medication this morning.

“You’re teasing me, they eat nuts, don’t they?”

“Yes they do, they ate her nuts–it’s why she had to become a girl–ask her.”

There was a loud clang as David dropped a pan on the floor and everybody laughed. “Best theory I’ve heard for gender dysphoria yet,” he said picking up his dropped pan.

“Except she usually says it about squirrels,” I offered as I picked up my bag.

“Well, you’re always telling me to keep my hat on because there are woodpeckers about,” Stella retorted.

“C’mon, Pheebs, this lot are all crazy.”

“She is funny though, isn’t she?”

“Especially when she forgets her medication.”

Phoebe looked at me as if she wasn’t sure if I was joking or not. I smirked and said, “Joke,” and she relaxed and smiled. “I wouldn’t leave my own baby there now would I?”

“No, I s’pose not.”

“Let’s go see some dormeece,” and twenty minutes later we were doing just that. Phoebe, like every adolescent female on the planet thought they were adorable, with their little hands and feet and the way they held nuts or dried fruit when they ate it. She was totally smitten, and when she got to hold Spike for a moment or two while she nibbled her way through a hazelnut, she smiled and smirked the whole time.

“She was tickling my hand,” she chuckled as we walked back through the admin block just in time to bump into Tom, who was emerging from his office.

“I didnae expect tae see ye,” he said after a sigh of surprise.

“I had to check the dormice.”

“Wi’ a bodyguerd?”

“I thought she deserved a break for a hour from baby custody.”

“Aye, weel c’mon tae lunch.”

Despite our protests he would hear none of it, so we had to go to lunch with him–in my car–the old buzzard, it means he can have a drink and a snooze this afternoon. As we entered the usual restaurant, the manager greeted us like long lost friends.

“Professor, Lady Cameron how nice to see you again, and who is this lovely young lady?”

“Phoebe,” I informed him but volunteered no further information.

“Usual, please,” said Tom and the waiter nodded.

“Tuna salad for madam?” he enquired and I nodded.

“And you young lady?” he looked at Phoebe.

“Tuna sounds fine,” she said.

“To drink?”

Tom ordered a Guinness and I went for a pot of tea–Earl Grey, which Phoebe decided to share.

I brought Tom up to date on Neal’s predicament.

“I can’t believe he hit her,” said Phoebe, “he’s a twit but he’s not violent.”

“Aye,” agreed Tom.

“He didn’t hit her, she fell off the bed trying to fix a dodgy light.”

“How d’you know, Mummy?”

A waiter brought the drinks and did a double take of me as the mother of someone more than half my age. We waited until after he’d gone before continuing.

“Let’s just say I know.”

“Hed ain o’yer visions?”

Phoebe looked perplexed.

“Cathy sees things we ordinary mortals canna.”

“Do you, Mummy?”

She knew about the healing and she’d been there when I saw her mother in the cemetery, so why was this news?

“Yes I saw it. Sadly, it’s not admissible as evidence.”

“But when Gloria comes round, she’ll be able to clear him, won’t she?” Phoebe looked to both of us for support.

“If she remembers, heid injuries are funny things,” offered our resident geriatric.

“I hope so,” I said guardedly.

After lunch we returned home, Tom having agreed to collect the girls, we got ready to go and visit Gloria. “Shouldn’t we take the baby for her to feed?” asked Phoebe.

“They probably won’t allow it, too risky for babies in general wards,” was the wisdom of one who’d worked there.

“Phone and ask them,” I suggested. She did, and found that the policy was no babies on wards other than children’s.”

I got the breast pump and a couple of empty bottles and washed out the sterilising fluid then popped them into a clean plastic bag. Phoebe saw what I was doing and nodded her approval. If Gloria was able to express milk then I could give mine to ‘Jaws’–Cate now had quite a few teeth and sometimes nipped me just to hear me yell. She thought it was very funny, I didn’t and it was one of the reasons I didn’t feed her as often.

I collected the bag of stuff I’d got from Neal’s house and we set off to the hospital, wondering what we’d find and also if we’d be able to free Neal over the weekend.