Dawn was just up here, all 'do you know that your husband is sneaking around behind your back exposing your CHILDREN to a WEREWOLF', all concerned and solicitous and bigoted.
Of course I was like 'where the everlasting fuck do you come off', but you will be proud to know that I held my tongue (mostly) and just said, "Yes, I know, and Peter would never hurt a fly."
Which SHE immediately took as stupidity and/or naivete - she never has thought much of me, I know, she's one of those who is usually pleasant enough in person but thinks I'm a loud blabber-mouth publicity hound - as if all I cared about wasn't my children and my causes, but just MYSELF. God knows that if all I cared about was myself, I would just stay far away from the media and not be dragged apart by wild horses in the Fail for my non-wifeliness and my thighs and my face (so many "I wouldn't touch that with a barge-pole" comments, always so many). But I DO care so I put myself in the spotlight even though it makes me break out in spots.
ANYWAY I am straying from the point, journal. She didn't like me saying Peter wouldn't hurt a fly. She started spouting all sorts of cautionary-werewolf stuff and pulling out articles, putting her hand on my arm gently and saying she knew it was hard for me to accept because he was my friend, but he could snap at any moment and I didn't want my children being werewolves or murdered. Well of COURSE I don't want my children murdered but Peter is never ever going to do that.
I told her that Peter takes his potion like a saint and when he is in wolf form all he wants to do is roll around on the floor and get scratched behind the ears and under the chin. I've seen the pictures John took and they are ADORABLE. Oliver looks out of this world happy. And Jemima has already begun pestering me every evening as to whether we can adopt Benji. This is going to end up with us having to get a dog, I just know it. Although no dog could ever equal Benji in their eyes, I'm sure!
Dawn just rolled her eyes and was all, yes, I'm sure he's lovely, but he could SNAP.
I confess that I raised my voice. I am not about soft power. I said that if she wanted to see someone SNAP she had come to the right place and she was being just as bigoted as the people who used to say (and still do) that LGBT people weren't safe to be trusted around children and they were always out to recruit children into their lifestyle and a single TOUCH from a LGBT person might be enough to transmit AIDS to a child. And then I remembered Turing and said that we were doing similar things to Peter to "keep him safe" and it already made me sick and that she could go fuck herself if she thought I was going to buy into her bigotry.
I don't think Dawn had seen me like that before. She got very wide-eyed at first in the face of my RIGHTEOUS ANGER. Eventually she got mad though and said she wasn't bigoted, she was just responsible and I was endangering the welfare of my children and DEFRA was going to hear about it.
Whereupon (now there's a John word) I said that sounded remarkably like threats and blackmail and that I didn't think she should be guarding Peter if she was so bigoted against him, because if he got sick or something I didn't think she'd lift a finger to help. And she looked a bit guilty and I thought I should talk to Peter later about it.
Anyway, she calmed down a LITTLE after a minute and said she wouldn't call DEFRA right away, because John had stopped bringing Peter up to the flat after she talked to him - managing to convey that John was much more reasonable than me - but that if she found out that either of us had been putting the children back in danger she wouldn't hesitate to go to DEFRA in a heartbeat.
I didn't tell her this, but if she does I've more than half a mind to lie out my arse and tell them that the children have never been around Peter and Dawn is just a bigoted person with an eye to getting John fired and taking over his job. Would serve her right.
So she left, high on her moral judgement horse, and I promptly went in and started looking at our schedules to see when John and I can let Peter visit with the children. Peter only has a WEEK LEFT before the cure potion starts, for fuck's sake. And then he'll either be cured or he'll be dead. I'm not letting him spend his possibly last seven days on earth locked up in a cell feeling that everyone has deserted him - because where the fuck is George Osborne, he's at Tory Conference being an utter twat, that's where he is.
If Dawn's going to have a strop if we bring Peter up to the flat, maybe we can fix up a nice room near the cell to let him visit with the children. Or maybe John can make some magic that puts a magic-aura-doppelganger in the cell to throw off Dawn's trackers (I don't know if that's possible, but it's worth a try). Or maybe I can get Harriet or somebody to need Dawn's help for the next week so she has to take fewer guard shifts. Or maybe...
WE'LL FIGURE OUT A WAY. I have a good imagination. Neither Dawn or anybody else is going to stop me from making Peter's last days as a werewolf as comfortable as they can be.
And John, by the way, is eventually getting quite a talking-to about just laying down and letting Dawn walk all over him. YES I KNOW, journal, if you were a human you'd tell me that I'm at fault because he's got used to me and is now conditioned to let strong-willed women have their way with him. But I am MARRIED to him and Dawn is not and Peter is his friend. You do not fuck friends over.
Okay, I have let out some of my RIGHTEOUS ANGER now. I hope it doesn't combust you. Off to do some good in the world.