The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2495 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I recalled the dream about skinning Spike and went down to the labs to check she was all right. She was stuffing herself, the hussy, with dried fruit. Because it had been so mild the mice were still feeding instead of hibernating and most looked well over fifteen grams, some of them more like thirty or forty. I asked one of the technicians to weigh each one—they were all chipped—and to let me see the results. Ah the pleasures of power—I’d been manager of the labs nominally before, but now as acting professor, I was boss of their entire world—well in work time I was, though I retained the single rule I’d always used and I think Tom did as well: Never ask anyone to do anything I wouldn’t do myself.

I returned to my paperwork—the room seemed full of it. I had three bids in to do ecological surveys—that would mean me and a team of two graduate students and three or four undergrads. It was for the county council and I was pretty sure our bid would be as good as anyone’s. The area was a sizeable chunk of woodland which they wanted assessed before deciding on its fate. If we could find dormice, they’d have to conserve some or all of it. I suspect they wanted to sell it.

I showed my costs to Tom over lunch and the bid I was placing. He considered I was too close to my costs, too little profit. I suspected Southampton, Winchester and Surrey would be chasing it as well. At his urging, I upped the price by five hundred.

“If we don’t get it, I’ll be very cross.”

“Oh ye’ll get it, all richt, thae others will be at least a couple of grand over yers.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’ve been daein’ this a lang time, lassie.”

I finished my bid and got Delia to type it. I’d added another hundred for sundries just in case. If we got it, I’d learn from the experience, I’d also learn if we didn’t. I applied the same logic to the other bids, one for some moorland near Exeter, they wanted to know what reptiles they had. It would be a summer job and that meant paying extra for nearly everything—including travel and food.

The last was the site of an old factory which it was alleged was home to colonies of bats. In the old days, developers just waited until they went to a winter roost and stopped up the holes. In fact biologists were recruited to find their entrances and egress. That was no longer allowed—to stop up the holes. In places like churches that could cause a bit of a problem as bat urine can lead to damage of decor or articles not protected from it. Not sure if the congregation get peed on, but hey, it’s an act of god, isn’t it? I chuckled then realised it wasn’t that funny and caused problems to conservationists.

The cost of the badger cull was much greater than expected, partly because of the protests against it and the police employed to keep the peace and also the fact that many of the corpses were examined to see if they’d been killed humanely. It was a farce, it really was but will they listen, no. Politicians never do, they’re usually too busy talking themselves. I despise the species.

I’d given Delia all three of the bids to type and she let slip she’d done such things before and we seemed very reasonable. I hoped I had enough manpower if all three were accepted. The graduate students were the biggest problem especially near the summer months when they’d be after research grants to get doctoral degrees or chasing jobs elsewhere. Thanks to Tom’s reputation, we had a very good name—he won the mammal survey job—which I intended to maintain if not enhance. Also, if I wanted to keep this job I had to show that I was the best candidate once they advertised it, assuming Tom kept the deanship. The best way to sell my wares was to demonstrate the university still had a good name for research and client satisfaction based upon that research, as well as a good name amongst students.

So far we ranked as high as London on student satisfaction, which Tom suggested was largely because they surveyed my students. I ran the busiest courses with highest attendance levels. If I kept the chair I’d have to appoint someone with the same ability for novelty that I’d shown. It would not be easy. I had a reputation for unorthodox methods and for a degree of showmanship. I was told I didn’t so much teach as perform. I knew that, some of my novelty had taken ages to create. Somehow, most of it had worked including things like the ecology of a lecture theatre to classifying students using Linnaean protocols. I even offered to have a few stuffed and mounted or pickled. They all said they’d prefer being pickled as they’d been practising most evenings down the union.

I collected four little maids from school narrowly evading the headmistress who was apparently wanting to see me about the Christmas celebrations. I really was too busy do much for the school apart from paying my fees on time and making sure my girls did their homework getting as good marks as they could.

We ate an excellent dinner—consuming rump steak—David knew the butcher and on the promise of further business, we got a sizeable discount. He immediately ordered half a lamb and half a pig, plus a large turkey for Christmas and a joint of ham. The butcher was well pleased. See, we sprinkle our largesse about the place, encouraging well run businesses as we are able.

Anyway, after this sumptuous repast I asked Danni to come and see me in the study. She looked vaguely guilty, though I wasn’t aware of any outstanding crimes against humanity, or worse, dormice. It transpired she was stuck on her homework on physics—I asked her grandfather to help—he’s actually quite a whizz with it. Before that I asked her a much more personal question.

“It’s been two months since I asked you to undertake three months as a girl to see if you would cope. How d’you feel about it?”

“Um,” she blushed and spluttered. “It’s been berrer than I expected.”

“What d’you mean easier?”

“Yeah, it’s been easier an’ nicer than I thought.”

“Anything you don’t like?”

“I’da preferred playin’ for a boy’s team, but I’m gettin’ used to playin’ with girls. It’s different, that’s all.”

“What about relationships?”

“I’ve been out with Cindy an’ Carly an’ we ’ave a bitta fun teasing the boys.”

“So you enjoy teasing the boys?”

“Well I can hardly tease girls, can I? Not since Pia hacked off me wotsits.”

“I can appreciate the difficulties but didn’t you have some enjoyment when we were up in Scotland, with a boy?”

She blushed and kept silent.

“Okay, back to the nitty-gritty, you have a month to go, do I sign you up for another term after Christmas—at St Clare’s, I mean.”

She shrugged. “I suppose so.”

“I have to say your marks and comments from teachers have improved tremendously which tends to indicate you’ve settled down as a girl, or am I reading this wrongly?”

She shrugged and sort of nodded. There was an embarrassed smile then a few tears dripped off her nose. “Come here, you silly sausage,” I said and opened my arms into a hug. “It’s okay for you to enjoy yourself as a girl you know, it’s also okay to say you want to stop, if that’s what you really want.”

“I know,” she sniffed.

“You only have to say and I’ll try and find a surgeon to recreate some sort of boy bits for you.”

“It’s okay for now.”

“What would you like for Christmas, within reason?”

“Some jewellery, clothes and makeup.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged and Danni?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“I think you’re doing all right, even if you ultimately intend to revert, enjoy your girlhood while it lasts, it can be great fun if you let it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she said as she left blowing her nose as she went.