CHAPTER 52
That was a relief. Neither of the two men was exactly backward in using his fists, and the last thing I wanted was a set to. It would be my day, my guests, my music, my hangover. I might let Tony have a look-in, though.

Alice was happy with the dress choice, though she did mutter a bit about being made into a matron of honour rather than a bridesmaid.

“They don’t come much more virginal than me! I demand my right to be foolish!”

I gathered from that little quip that she might actually be on an up; her mood swings were easing off as she got used to her new blood chemistry, but they were still there. What a group of oddities we were. Two who had had the good fortune to start young, and benefit from that, one who was starting later in life but still looked good, and an aging ex-man who at least benefited from never having done the sort of exercise that would have solidified her masculine body beyond any hope.

And the things we clung to for our sanity. Work, for Janet, and riding and rugby for Steph and me. Alice had had her little beard. All from one other woman’s story, too, she had clung to her sanity and her life with the help of some facial hair. What slender threads we had swung on.

The weeks went by, and we were caught in February, that grey, damp misery with no end in sight, from the middle of January till half way through March. Look, just give me Winter, or give me Spring, not a dreary, drizzling mess that can’t decide which it wants to be, so it opts for being wet and miserable. Jim was down with one of those sniffly colds that aren’t bad enough to keep the child from school, but irritate adults profoundly. Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. Why can they never blow till you nag them to? Then Tony caught it…

I busied myself with the preparations, such a pile of fiddliness. Banns to be read, catering to be sorted (easy; the Sports Club had a hall and a kitchen, and Janet knew somebody who knew someone else…), a cake, dresses to be measured for and ordered, and, of course, my own.

I had an odd moment when I was being measured, a sort of flashback. I realised that I could hardly remember a time when I didn’t wear a bra, and in fact didn’t fill it myself. Obviously, my knickers were a different story, but there was a real dislocation as the tape went around and along my body, a moment when Sam seemed a distant and bad dream, and my body just felt absolutely right.

Other things were moving along, too. Alice took me aside one day at home, full of excitement. She was budding, and just needed to show someone. I assumed she had already shared the news with Enid, and more importantly I realised she would never grow to any size, but it was a start, a real touch of womanhood beyond anything that her choice in clothing could ever achieve. She looked at me, searching for my reaction.

“Sar, this makes it real for me. Enid and you have helped me more than I could ever have hoped for or dreamed of, but this is my body killing the past. Thank you for everything”

“Alice….”

I couldn’t actually think of anything to say, so I just hugged her, which said it for me.

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Pat and Janet called round at the start of March. Over a cuppa for Janet, and a dram for himself, he explained.

“I think I have an opening for your OCD woman, Sarah”

“OD, Pat, not OCD”

“Same thing in my book, lass. I have a CAFOD fund-raising group starting up at my gaff, and I think it is the sort of thing she would be well suited for. I need what you might call a branch secretary for it. Long hours, no pay, lots of shit to sort out, suit a masochist down to the ground”

“You could be right on the mark there, Pat. I’ll sound her out. Now, I have something for you to look at. I am going for a pastel green for the bridesmaids’ dresses, so I thought we could take you along and get you fitted for a matching cassock”

“And you can fuck right off with that idea! You try that, and I’ll make sure I slip ‘obey’ into your wedding vows!”

“Sod that, you bastard! This is an equal-opps household, and always will be”

I was still wondering at their interplay, the way they seemed to fit together, and so, as they muffled up against the cold and the wet and set off into the dark I curtain-twitched. Their hands went out and met, in as natural a way as any other couple. Poor, poor sods. I had satisfied my own curiosity; for their sakes, I decided right then that nobody else needed to know.

I put Pat’s suggestion to her the next day at work.

“So…what do you think, Anne? It’s not bloody badminton, but it will be hard work”

“It actually sounds right up my street, Sarah. Can you let Pat know I’d like to give it a go, if he can use me”

Oh, he can use you OK, just in a rather better way than a certain other priest. I let him know, and a few days later she was in the driving seat.

And so it went. We got through the choc-storm of Easter with minimal casualties, and then my birthday (42. Fuck) and that date was spiralling in on me. I was slowly going mad with the organisational workload, and I just needed a break. You know those moments, when you realise that as much as you have to work, you will work better after a break.

“Tone, I need a weekend away. I need to shake my thang. I need a rally”

Enid and Alice were amenable, so we found a rally that matched his long weekend, and we went and got pissed, and made love a lot, and I finally had the space to think through our wedding. Who was I doing it for? Me, or Tone, or simply to match family expectations? Oh, there were no doubts in my mind about Tony. I loved him deeply and without reservation, and he seemed to return the favour, but did we need to jump through all the fucking hoops? I sounded him out as we lay in our tent that Sunday morning. After a bit of discussion we got to the meat.

“Why are we marrying, love?”

“Because we want to and because we can”

“But is that enough of a reason?”

“Then, to please our families”

“No, not a good reason”

“Then for Jim. You are his mum, but without a legal box-tick, if anything happens to me, he is cast adrift. Suppose my mother goes? Sarah, please understand why I say t this way, but I love you as much as Jim, and I will have him safe. The way the law stands, if both of us go you have no legal claim on him. That would break his heart.

“I am also marrying you because I can’t think of a better way to show the world that I love you”

That was really the two trumps to end the discussion. Jim first, always.

Back at work, I spotted Andy one day with an honest-to-god sandwich box. It held salad For a man whose lunchtime exploits were either a foot-long sub with as much of the trimmings as could be squeezed in, or some ‘flame-grilled’ minced udders in a cotton wool bun, this was odd in the extreme. I investigated, by the subtle means of pointing at it and saying “What the fuck?”

“Healthier, isn’t it?”

“And what if you get the munchies later?”

He looked embarrassed, and pulled out another box. In that one were small sticks of carrot and celery. There was also a small pot of hummus. I grinned.

“Let me guess….Bev?”

“Bev. She puts them out for me last thing at night”

“Hang on…oh, you sneaky buggers! How long?”

“She stays about half the week, we’ve been seeing how it goes. About a month now”

“How do you feel?”

“Can you understand it if I say both tense and relaxed? I l…like her a lot, and she calms me down, shows me what’s important, but at the same time I’m terrified I’ll screw up, go back to the old stupidity, and if I am going to have a chance at kids, I have to get it right”

“Andy, don’t put having kids at the top of the wish list. Just concentrate on being the man it took us so long to find.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I mean, you could always have another with Tony, so you have options I don’t have”

Ouch. That didn’t hurt the way it once did, and that was thanks to Jim, but the pain was still there. Change the subject, Sarah.

“You nearly slipped up there, Andy. You’ve really fallen hard, haven’t you?”

He grinned for a second, then the worried look returned. “Guilty, Sar, guilty as charged. That’s why I am so worried I’ll screw up”

I hugged him. “Andy, from the way she looks at you, she feels the same way, and if she is fiddling with your diet she intends to keep you around. Look: be yourself, that’s all, if she loves you, she loves YOU, and putting any act on will just screw it up”

So, another two off the market. Perhaps Hywel was right, and I was infectious.