The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2454 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

When I got home I was tempted to search for a Batman tee shirt on the net. I already had a Superman one which I’d last worn when tinkering with bikes. I wasn’t even sure which drawer it was in. After a cuppa which I gobbled down, I made another and sipped it, enjoying every drop. I had a quick glance at my diary. If I was still acting professor, I had a staff meeting the day after tomorrow. Great, just what I needed. Rather than call, I grabbed my iPad—I have one of the keyboard attachment things, threw a few more things into my brief case, told David where I was going, kissed Cate and Lizzie and left them to Jacquie’s tender mercies.

Delia was typing away at the computer on her desk as I entered, “Morning, Professor,” she sang out without looking up.

“How did you know it was me?”

“You’re the only one around here who wears Coco,” she replied indicating my choice of perfume.

“You obviously have a good sense of smell.”

“Not really, it’s my mum’s favourite—I got her some for Christmas last year.”

“I’m still impressed. It seems we have a staff meeting scheduled for the day after tomorrow.”

“You have interviews tomorrow.”

“I do?” I gasped.

“Yes, Prof, you’re interviewing for two posts, a senior lecturer to cover your old job. It’s a six month’s contract possibly extendable to a year, plus a junior lecturer, which is a staff post. Professor Agnew and I short listed for both posts, two of the candidates applied for both. The temporary post has two other candidates, the other has three, making four and five interviews respectively. I put the timetable and the applications plus CVs in the folder on your desk.”

I felt overwhelmed. I’d escaped all this for a month or so and wasn’t sure I wanted back into it. Thankfully, Delia was efficient and entered my office with a cup of tea as I started to wade through the applications and attached CVs. I hate interviewing, it feels like I’m sitting in judgement on those who are trying to impress me. I’m looking to see who will best fit into my team whilst hopefully providing something extra to the skill mix. I saw that I had two others to assist me Dr Isabel Newman and Dr Mike Fisher. Neither were from my department, she’s a molecular biologist seconded from Cambridge—her hubby’s in the Royal Navy: Mike is a freshwater biologist, who can enthuse about pond scum until the cows come home. Think me and dormice—he’s the same about algae and tadpoles.

“The Dean has invited you out for lunch.”

“I think my time would be better spent dealing with some of these letters, don’t you?”

“He said it was non-negotiable.”

“Looks like I’m going to lunch then.”

“It does, Prof.”

Having only just got used to being called doctor, being temporarily called professor or prof, feels strange. Part of me wants to be called Cathy but another feels I need to maintain some barriers with Delia. She’s a good secretary, but I’m several layers above her in the academic world and also the world at large. But I do like her, she seems very competent and enthusiastic. I’ve seen her dealing with people as well; she is very good as nothing seems to rattle her. Being quite volatile, her calmness might be useful.

“Delia?” I called her back as she was about leave.

“Yes, Professor.”

“Shut the door and sit here a moment.”

“Is there something wrong, Professor?”

“How much do you enjoy working here?”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Did I say there was?”

She looked slightly flustered. “Uh—no, but...”

She wasn’t totally unflappable, good, she’s human. “You will be aware that I’m only here on a temporary basis, acting up while Professor Agnew is holding the fort as dean.”

“Yes.” She looked a little anxious. “Is my contract coming to an end?”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know how long I’ll be here myself.”

“Oh.” She paused, “It was suggested I’d be here until Christmas, is that still likely?”

“Probably, seeing as they have to fill the Dean’s post.”

“I see, but you’re not certain?”

“Not at the moment, I might glean some wisdom at lunch.”

“Thanks for being up front with me.”

“That wasn’t what I asked you to sit down for.”

“Oh?”

“I’m enjoying the way you work and I’d like you to stay on as long as I fill this chair. I can’t say how long that will be, but I’d like you be with me—someone has to know what they’re doing.” I smiled at her and she blushed.

“I like working with you too, Professor.”

“Is that a yes?”

“I guess so.”

“Good. Can you get me the Dean on the phone?”

“Of course.” She left my office and half a minute later I was put through to Tom.

“About this ’ere lunch...”

“Aye, wit aboot it?”

“I’d like to bring Delia with me.”

“Aye okay.”

“Will you collect me?”

“I’ve a meetin’ in a few minutes, see ye in an hoor.”

“Fine, see you then, Daddy.”

“Aye, alricht.”

I went out to Delia’s office and told her she was coming to lunch to celebrate our partnership. She blushed and thanked me. I then returned to my office and really vetted the candidates for the interviews the next day. The other two interviewers had got the same data, so hopefully we’d all be fully briefed. The job descriptions were quite interesting, especially the one for my cover. I had no recollection of ever having had one like it. I supposed they were just looking to have someone do the teaching sessions I used to do. Without wishing to blow my own trumpet, whoever follows me will have a tough job.

Tom collected us at quarter past twelve, although we went in my car, of which Delia approved. Tom seemed to think he could be stuck as acting Dean until Easter, he told me to expect two terms of acting Professor. I wasn’t exactly happy with the prospect, but it gave me some indication of how long we’d be offering the temporary post. Delia seemed really happy. I was beginning to think I could possibly use a secretary for the other things I did anyway, so depending upon how these two terms go, will decide if I offer the job to Delia.

He gave pointers for the staff meeting and the interviews. I had run both before but not here. Delia ended up taking notes on a sheet of paper the restaurant provided, so we didn’t forget them before we got back to the office.

We were just finishing our meals, the conversation had slowed down the consumption, the maitre de who’d apparently been out saw us and strolled over, “How nice to see you, Professor, Lady Cameron, young lady.” We replied in similarly friendly fashion.

“Lady Cameron? I thought your name was Watts?” Delia seemed confused.

“I teach using my maiden name.”

“But you’re a lady?”

“Glad you noticed.”

“No, I mean you have a title?”

“Yes, at present it’s only acting professor.”

“But he called you, Lady Cameron—that means you have a title.”

“Oh that, yeah, I got it for agreeing to marry Simon, it was part of the compensation package.” Tom was in mid swallow and nearly choked to death.