The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2469 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

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Simon’s F-type is only a two seater, so we took my car to the college and astonishingly, he let me drive, lying back in the seat and closing his eyes. “I hope you’re not going to sleep,” I complained but the lack of response tended to suggest he had.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he gets by with so little sleep, but every now and again, he just zonks. After parking at the college I did manage to wake him, but with some difficulty. Then we had to walk about for a few minutes for him to wake up entirely. I had two tickets for the presentation and we made our way to the assembly hall and to the two reserved seats—each one was numbered, the number being confirmed by the programme set on each seat. Ours were E/27 and 28, which meant we were five rows back from the front and on the end of the row, there being a central aisle, with another twenty eight chairs the other side.

We weren’t amongst the first to arrive but the place was only half full by the time we took our seats and looked at the programme. There were about ten prizes for hairdressing and beauty, four for tourism, four for catering management, six for catering and so on. In all there were forty prizes, it was going to be a long afternoon. According to the programme it was all due to start in about twelve minutes, the prizes being presented by Councillor Betty Smith who was also mayor of Gosport.

I didn’t know the councillor but I didn’t envy her the task of shaking forty hands and passing over a trophy or envelope. I suppose it makes it more memorable for the students gaining the awards to have someone distinguished handing them over, so I shouldn’t be too critical—it must get very boring to be a mayor and open fetes or supermarkets and visit dementing old biddies because they’ve go to a hundred years of age without losing more than their marbles. I won’t be standing for any political post any time soon, politics irritates me even though I know we need someone to govern the country.

Five minutes to go and Simon was looking at his watch. I watched Phoebe appear out of nowhere and walk up towards us with some middle-aged woman behind her. What was this about?

“Hi, Mummy, Daddy, this is Mrs Raddish, the principal of the college.” I suppose she did look a bit like a raddish, being a bit rotund and pink faced.

“How d’you do,” said the principal.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said and shook hands, Simon nodded and also shook her hand.

“Could we have a quick word, Professor?”

What can you say other than yes? She indicated that we should move away from the hall. I left Simon holding my handbag as I followed her to the back of the stage, Phoebe bringing up the rear.

“Professor Watts, I need to ask you a huge favour.”

I had a feeling I wasn’t going to enjoy this. “Carry on,” I said waiting for the bomb to drop.

“Councillor Smith has been taken ill, they suspect a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“The favour is, would you present the prizes? Otherwise I’m going to have forty very disappointed students whose achievements are going to be less recognised than they deserve.”

“Am I the best person to do this? Is there no one in the audience who’s better qualified?” I glanced at Phoebe who was blushing furiously, so I know who dropped my name into the reserve list.

“I’d have thought you were probably better qualified to recognise academic achievement than anyone else here.”

It was pointless arguing and I didn’t want to cause Phoebe embarrassment, so I agreed after finding out what was required of me. The principal would introduce me and then I’d say a few words about the prizes and then present them. I could see a large table with things laid in rows and the appropriate prize would be handed to me after the student’s name was called. I’d shake hands award the prize and wait for the next one. The principal would thank me and wrap things up. Easy—except I know they never are, as today was already proving.

Phoebe was sent to tell Simon what was happening and to fetch my handbag after he’d taken the camera out of it. I was going to take a photo of Phoebe getting her prize, now I’d be awarding it.

I was led out on to the stage to sit behind a table. The rest of the staff not actually involved took their places on a couple of rows of seats behind us. There was a general buzz around the hall as several people noticed I wasn’t the mayor. I must admit even I’d been aware of that as I tried to think of something relevant and intelligible to say once I was introduced. My mind was a complete blank—nothing new there then. It appeared as if I was going to give absent minded professors a bad name.

Mrs Raddish stood and welcomed the parents and others to the ceremony. She went on about how important it was to recognise the achievement of students, who’d worked hard all year to gain these prestigious awards. She went on for a few more minutes and then dropped the news that the mayor was suddenly sick but that I had agreed to present the awards in her absence.

“We are truly honoured to have Professor Catherine Watts from Portsmouth University, who is an ecologist and mammal biologist, who many of you may recognise from her film on dormice a year or two ago. I’m told she’s just finished one on harvest mice, which I’m sure we’ll all look forward to watch with great anticipation, having enjoyed the dormice one. I give you, Professor Watts.”

A wave of applause filled the hall as I stood up. “Thank you, Madam Principal. Ladies, gentlemen, esteemed guests, members of staff, students, family members, dormice and anyone else I forgot, welcome.

“Twenty minutes ago I was sitting with my husband awaiting the chance to see my daughter collect her prize when I was told the mayor had been taken ill and asked could I award the prizes. I’m sure that any of you could have done it as well as I will, but apparently mine was the first name they drew out of the hat. Should I be taken ill while I’m up here, I’ll try and draw the next name before they cart me off. Meanwhile, I’m sure we all send our best wishes to the mayor for a speedy recovery, and I’m even more sure that most of you are praying that I stay well enough for the next name not to require drawing.

“I will admit I have done this before but not here. Last time it was at another of my daughter’s school and after boring them with a three hour talk on the toiletry habits of Meles meles, the common badger, I bored them by presenting half the prizes to three of my daughters. I promise you that today I’m only going to talk for two hours, on the fleas and other ectopic parasites of the European badger, Meles meles, which is a sett piece of mine, and I only have one daughter here.

I got laughter and groans which was showing that at least some of them were awake and listening.

“I’m joking of course, they aren’t paying me to educate you lot, so instead we’ll get on and present the prizes to these the most successful students during the previous year. Please do applaud loudly, these young men and women have worked hard to win these prizes and they deserve as much recognition of that fact as we can give them. As someone who’s involved in education, albeit of a slightly different kind than here, I’m aware that if we don’t encourage the youngsters who sign up for courses and who are prepared to put their lives on hold for two three or four years, to do their best and recognise when they do, how will they know that we know how hard they’ve worked. It’s so important that we none of us forget that and a simple acknowledge-ment, of say a new Porsche, means we haven’t.” A roar of laughter rolled across the hall.

“Madam Principal, before they all fall asleep, I’d better hand the presentation back to you...”