The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2814 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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Sunday proved to be a day of recovery from the excesses of spending large sums of money on unnecessary bits of cloth. Let’s face it, if I didn’t go to the stupid dinner, either one for that matter, the world wouldn’t end, neither would the university or the bank. But to go I had to purchase some idiotically priced piece of cloth which someone had sewn into the shape of a dress in my size. Admittedly, it was the most beautiful dress we saw that day, or in my humble opinion it was. Stella went on to tell me about the woman we bought it from.

“Rosemary Kingsdon, got dissatisfied with the couture houses when she was a young designer. The older better known ones got all the credit even if the ideas weren’t theirs, so after ten years of that sort of treatment she left and set up her own studio selling her designs to upmarket chain stores. She wasn’t happy but it brought in a regular income until she could launch her own brand.

“It didn’t happen, she became totally disillusioned with the fashion industry and nearly stopped working completely. At about this time I met her daughter at university and she wore the most amazing clothes, especially to party—and boy, could she party. I eventually met her mum, Rosemary, that is, and she showed me a few of her designs. I was hooked and begged her to make me a dress for the end of course prom. I got Daddy to pay her outrageous price but it was worth it. I wore it to my coming out ball as well.”

“What you were gay?” I gasped and half the train looked round.

“No,” she rebutted me very loudly, “I am not, that was what we called the debutante’s balls.”

“I didn’t think they had any,” I smirked.

“Really,” she sighed rolling her eyes, “mind you one or two might have failed the physical exam. Where was I? Oh yes, my dress was so outstanding that I had half a dozen death threats if I didn’t tell them who made it. She never looked back afterwards, but she only sees people by appointment.”

“So you rang her?”

“Of course, unless you have an appointment she won’t see you—it’s worse than the average doctor. The rest is history as you know.”

“I know she makes the most exquisite clothing I’ve ever seen.”

“You won’t see another of those dresses anywhere, she only makes one at a time and if sold, she doesn’t do another.”

“So my dress is unique?”

“Yes, if she does another it will be of different cloth or slightly different in some other aspect.”

I felt even happier after hearing this, Stella also told me she had designed stuff for the Princess of Wales and her successor. “So how come I’ve never heard of her?”

“I only did because of knowing her daughter; she is very exclusive and she doesn’t make things for size zero stick insects.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Nothing was said by Trish or the others as to what she was up to and if anything she seemed well behaved on Sunday, even asking me if we could go for a ride. We did but not very far. Meems nearly got blown off by one vicious gust of wind and although she laughed, it worried me and we turned around soon after only having done about four miles altogether. I probably got more exercise yesterday going round the shops or walking in between them.

Simon didn’t even ask to see the dress, because as soon as we arrived home on the Saturday he shot off down the rugby club with a headache. I told him Stella and I were doing the same the following week for Christmas shopping. His answer a loud, “No way.” We laughed about it all evening.

I did some paperwork plus the Observer ‘Everyman’ crossword after lunch which took me about half an hour, by then it was time for tea and David disappeared after lunch, so guess who got the evening meal?

Everyone seemed pleased with Amanda, so if it continued, she’d get a nice Christmas present from me in the form of a bonus. She seemed keen to please and wasn’t a shirker, also David was becoming quite friendly with her of which I wasn’t sure what I felt. So far any romances that happened between my staff seemed to bomb with disastrous consequences. I wasn’t therefore encouraging anything between them except a good working relationship.

I did actually remind him of what happened between he and Ingrid, and I also mentioned that Jenny Bell had had a bad relationship with Caroline, although it’s fair to say Caroline was just a diversion for Jenny while she wound her up and dropped her. I also hinted to Amanda that the previous relationships between staff had ended badly. She looked at me, “Lady Cameron, I like David, he’s fun to work with and a brilliant cook—but he’s so old.” I felt better after that. David is forty something.

Trish was up and ready to leave early, mind you so were the others. When I asked why, I was told she’d forgotten to do some homework. I knew something was afoot and it wasn’t five toes or twelve inches.

I agreed to take them early but, “If any of you are up to some sort of mischief and you fail to tell me, I won’t be able to help you when it’s discovered. Do you all understand?”

They claimed they did but I wasn’t sure, however, I had to give them some licence and asked Danni to stop them getting into trouble. She said they were okay, just winding me up. I know that they were asking David for treats to take to school for the class parties on Thursday. Funny that none of them have mentioned the nativity play, I suppose they can’t be interested—mind you, except the time I played the BVM I wasn’t very interested either.

You’d think that on a Monday morning no one would bother sending emails and letters, they should still be getting over the weekend, I know I was. I was actually still reeling about the cost of that dress. Diane asked if my hunting expedition had caught anything, so we spent the first twenty minutes discussing it. She wasn’t attending the university dinner—lucky sausage—so I agreed to get a decent photo of me in it. “It sounds delightful.”

Diane, it’s more than delightful, it’s delightfully ostentatious.”

“How much was it?”

I told her and she looked shocked.

“Twelve hundred quid,” she gasped.

“But I plan on wearing it twice,” I said sounding very earnest.

“That’s still six hundred quid a time. Jeez, how the other half live.”

“That doesn’t include the Jimmy Choo shoes and matching handbag or the full sable coat.”

“What?”

I roared with laughter, “Some women would spend all that, five hundred for a pair of shoes, and thousands on a dead animal coat. I’ve got a silk coat.”

“Yeah but how many silk worms were killed to make that?”

I had to admit I hadn’t thought of that, nor was I going to or I wouldn’t be able to face a tin of tuna again, let alone eat one.