The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2374 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I drove myself home feeling weary. I still didn’t know what all this stupid business had been about except someone seemed to have it in for me big time. I try to understand why but it risks driving me insane. I’ve done nothing wrong but I get loads of flak about the fact that I exist, it somehow undermines some people’s view of the world and it appears I have no right to do that. However, they seem to have every right to call me names and to try and disrupt my life or those of my family. Some days I didn’t know if I had the energy to fight back, and when I did others got hurt. That Emma was involved in this latest plot was so very sad. I can’t say I took to her that much but she was still a colleague and her reputation is now in tatters. Even if she manages to escape a custodial sentence, the word will be out. She’ll never get a job in a British university again perhaps a worthy reward for her treachery.

I could only think she’d been well paid for her perfidy, unless there was something I was missing. Could have been, I was exhausted and felt mentally tired. On returning home, Lizzie needed feeding and I really didn’t feel like it, but it’s what she needed me to do, so I went and changed quickly and fed her.

“What happened, Mummy, you look exhausted?” asked Jacquie as she gave Cate a drink and biscuit. I explained the morning’s events as I remembered them. “When are they going to leave you in peace, Mummy?”

“I don’t know, I suppose I’m too good a target and having so many gender dysphoric children is a jackpot for unscrupulous tabloids. I work in a university—so can corrupt young minds; I have all these children who’ve been turned into girls against their will; I’m married into one of the wealthiest families in Europe and I have a title. I’m just a dream target.”

“But that’s all surmise and conjecture.”

“I know it is, but it doesn’t stop them, does it? What does it matter if another tranny tops herself as long as the readers of the rag can gasp or titter as required?”

“I know how you feel, and although my sentence was quoshed, I’m sure the tabloids would be after me if they knew I was looking after small children.”

“But you did nothing wrong—if anything, you were the injured party.”

“I’m a girl, Mummy, I’m expendable.”

That made me go cold all over. “Jacquie, never let me hear you say that again. You’re a human being and as equal and deserving of a place on this planet as anyone else, d’you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, but tell it to the Taliban, or the thugs in this country who feel it doesn’t matter if they hit a girl or encourage female gang members to do so.”

“I know, the more developed and supposedly sophisticated we are, the worse we seem to get. We’ve been on this planet for forty thousand years, so why are we still fighting wars? They abort female foetuses in China and India, because they’re female, then twenty years later they grow short of wives for their cretinous sons and have to import them. Can it get any worse?”

“Oh yes, Mummy, but it needs a computer.” We both chuckled at that and Lizzie woke up with a start and began crying. I calmed her down and she eventually went off to sleep again.

After a cup of tea had revived my flagging spirits and topped up my fluid levels, David made us a delicious smoked salmon pate which we ate with toast and a side salad.

Jim arrived just after and finished off the pate with some toast. He joked that he didn’t need girly food like salad. The look David gave him was priceless.

“Who is Ms Vallance?” he asked at length after swigging a glass of water.

I couldn’t think for a moment, “There was a social worker who tried to stitch me up and she actually took Danni into care for a couple of nights.”

“Oh goodness, Mummy, I remember that.”

“I’ll bet Danielle does too.”

“It seems she’s Emma’s auntie,” said Jim before taking an apple and biting almost half of it off in one mouthful.

“Now it begins to make sense.” Well it did to me, if that hateful woman was involved it explained a lot.

“Didn’t she lose her job?” asked Jacquie.

“Yes, and her power base. She said she’d get me.”

“She was wrong, Mummy, she’s the one who’s been got.”

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

“If we can prove an element of incitement or conspiracy, she’ll go down this time. I’ll insist they prosecute as a hate crime.”

“What does Jason think?” asked Jim’s chomping maw.

“I don’t know but I employ him not t’other way round.”

“Yes, boss,” quipped Jim.

“I can’t believe someone would plot for over a year to get their own back,” it shocked me mildly.

“Just because you get fed up doesn’t mean others do,” Jim continued to offer unnecessary opinions. “Some people never give up when seeking revenge.”

“Thanks, Jim.” Just what I needed.

“Well it’s true.”

“You did get her sacked, Mummy.”

“No I did not. Her behaviour was deemed inappropriate for her role and they sacked her.”

“What did she do?”

“To me personally, you mean?”

“No, for a job?”

“Senior social worker.”

“Mummy got her suspended and sacked.”

“Good job too,” said Jim selecting some grapes from the bowl of fruit.

“Danni and I ran into her in ASDA a while back, she was as mad as a cut snake then.”

“Served her right, Mummy.”

“I suppose it did but she obviously didn’t think so. You said she was Emma’s auntie?

“Yes,” he snaffled more grapes.

Suddenly a silly thought assailed me, if a certain American author wrote a book about viticulture, would it be called the ‘Grapes of Roth’? I sniggered to myself and by the look of the others at the table they thought I was crazy—perhaps they’re right?