The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2333 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“So, he’s in the security services,” who’da thunkit? Mused Julie.

“So he says, but what course was she on when they met?”

“Knowing Auntie Stella, how about a collision one?”

“Yes, very good.” She smirked at her joke, I jabbed my finger with the needle and decided to quit for the night.

“It bugged me, that Roger Mitchell, or whatever his name was, was so happy to disclose his occupation. I assumed they just pretended that they were civil servants. They could always say they were attached to the Home Office or elsewhere. I suppose MI6 is under the control of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, which is where the most famous spy of them all hangs out, 007, him with the licence to kill.

Seeing as MI6 operate abroad as an espionage unit, I can’t see how we can licence people to kill in other people’s countries. I know it’s fiction and possibly all nonsense. Does it glamorise the secret agent knowing he can kill as he needs? I don’t think so, Bond is as much an assassin as anything else and these days the government play down the use of such folk, claiming to be whiter than white. We know they’re not so why bother? I suppose they have imaginary standards to keep up which enable them to point the finger in mock indignation at others.

As I was about to go to bed I sent a text to Jim Beck asking if he knew of a Roger Mitchell in the security services. I was just nodding off when I got a reply.

‘My contacts have never heard of him, either he’s lying about his name or he’s a fantasist. Either way stay well clear of him. Jx’

Oh great, that’s really going to help me sleep. I tossed and turned much of the night remembering bits of that silly film True Lies with Arnie and Jamie Lee Curtis. Where Arnie was a spy and some bloke she worked for pretended he was but wasn’t. Isn’t she AIS or something?

I eventually fell asleep thinking how I might explain to Stella that her friend wasn’t what he said he was. Hopefully he’ll crawl back under the stone from which he emerged. I just hope he isn’t a gold digger. If only I could get a picture of him, then I remembered the car number Trish had got. When I woke up, I sent it to Jim and he responded half an hour later with what I half expected, it was a hire car. So he could well be a con man. Just what we need and if I appear to poke my nose in, Stella will accuse me of preventing her from choosing who she wants to date. It’s nonsense of course, providing they’re bona fide suitors, I wish her every happiness.

At breakfast she was full of Roger this and Roger that. I suggested she introduce us to him. “So you can spoil it for me again?” she said almost petulantly.

“Stella, I should love you to find your soul mate and lasting happiness.”

“So how come you spoiled my last two relationships, it was you they wanted, I was a poor second best. You’re not going to have this one preferring you, just so you can boost your ego by taking blokes off a real female.”

I was horrified and felt my eyes grow moist. Jacquie was appalled and said so. Stella flounced off in high dudgeon. “She can be so hurtful, Mummy.”

“She’s got this bee in her bonnet that I’ll try to seduce and take her blokes off her.”

“Why?”

“Because she thought that was what happened with Des and Gareth.”

“But it didn’t did it?”

“No, of course not. I found both of them very attractive as did loads of women but I never tried to cause a split between them. It’s very sad she imagines this each time because nothing could be further from the truth. I love her as a sister and want to see her happy.”

“Could Grampa Henry help?”

“I don’t know, I think we have to wait and see if this continues after tonight. He's maybe what he claims to be, but I have my doubts.”

“Does Auntie Stella have much money, then?”

“I don’t know how much she’s actually worth but she has loads of shares which could be worth millions.”

“Wow, some catch, then?”

“Now you see why I’m worried.”

“Oh gosh yes,” she nodded furiously.

We had to wait and see what happened but I was suspicious of her friend and Stella was suspicious of me. Even if I told her what I’d learned she’d either be furious with me and call me a liar, or she’d think I wanted him for myself. How do I get myself into these situations? Part of me just wanted to sit back and let her get on with it but I knew that if it subsequently went wrong she’d possibly end up back in her depressed state and this time she might succeed in killing herself. Why has life got to be so complicated?

Stella came down for lunch which I was making as David had the day off. I did egg salads, hard boiling half a dozen eggs for the three of us and doing a green salad—well okay, opening a packet of assorted salad leaves and some cherry tomatoes with some fresh bread if anyone needed it.

During lunch I tried to find out more about him, Roger, that is. “What was this course you met him on?”

“What’s it matter?” she said dismissively.

“I’m just intrigued, especially if he’s in the security business.”

“It was a painting one I did when I was at the clinic.”

“What walls and doors and things?” I returned facetiously.

“Oh yeah, I was sick not unemployed.”

“I know.”

“Course you do, you took me there.”

“Stella, despite what you think, I love you as my sister and I only want to see you happy.”

“So back off about Roger, then.”

“If I was sure his intentions were honourable, I would help you as much as I could.”

“Of course they are. He’s only seeing me tonight, then bye-bye.”

“If that’s the case I apologise for seeming suspicious.”

“You don’t think he’s after my money? You do?” she gasped as I blushed. “It’s all in trust, he can’t get at it—I can’t get at it. Ha ha, what a joke.”

I didn’t think so, and I was sure if you tie money up, then it could be untied in time and with some sleight of hand. I’ve also heard of men borrowing against an heiress’s money leaving them virtually penniless while the bloke goes off after his next victim. It could also compromise the security of the family’s share of the ownership of the bank, which might please some of its competitors or its enemies.

All in all, I knew virtually nothing about this guy, Roger Mitchell and depending upon what happens tonight, I may or may not ask Jim to take a look at him and his affairs. If I did, I’d involve Henry and Simon. Stella would be furious if ever she found out, so we’d have to make sure she never did. Just the sort of basis on which to build family loyalty.