CHAPTER 35
I suppose that Maisie’s arrival was the start of another new life for me. I had managed to get through to Kim by a simple process of empathy, for she was me, in so many ways. There was a fire in her, one I had seen when she had called me a nonce and issued directions about sex and travel. Each time she snarked at someone, I heard myself passing a comment about a horse to a woman whose looks were more Clydesdale than filly.

Nell and Cathy seemed joined at the hip, and I could see why. Both were bookish, as well as feminine in their own individual ways. Once they had come to understand what the House was about, they settled into their new lives with an almost audible sigh of relief, their former selves shed like a snake’s old skin, their vision clearer than before. I suppose that the regular visits by Doctor Thomas were a help, but the main driver seemed to be their studies. They were there for each other at college, so any potential bullies would have been faced with both of them.

Cathy was the girl who surprised me, to be honest. She had seemed far too quiet when I had first collected her, but that had blossomed into what I could only describe as serenity. Her treatment of poor battered Maisie had been mature beyond her years, and her influence on Nell was an inspiration.

Maisie, though, was a sign of harder times. We were working our way through what seemed like an endless series of boom and bust cycles, where the ‘boom’ part only affected a tiny number of people. The rest of us got the bust, and that was never-ending. Maisie was the first of my charges to arrive in a state close to broken, broken in ways that might never be fixed.

Maisie triggered a change in the House rules, and yes, I did feel the capital letter as I thought of the place. I had considered a name for the double building, but named places reminded me far too much of others that included words like ‘Keep’ or ‘View’. ‘The House’ it became, and each new arrival served their apprenticeship in a Transit van with an urn and a bag full of camping mugs.

There was one overriding rule, and it was a simple one: nobody got in without my say-so. No mates, no college friends, no boys who thought someone’s arse, or ‘ass’, might be worth a second look. No men at all got in without agreement from the residents, and the chance to go upstairs to their rooms. Paul and Doctor Thomas were exceptions, along with Sparky, as well as Graham and Malcolm, until they sold up and moved lock, stock and barrel to Tenerife and a gay bar that had appeared on the market in some pink paper or other.

The reason for ‘no men’ was depressingly obvious, as I found far too many of the residents I gave space to had met some men in ways that had been more than a little one-sided, and not favourable to the girls. Sometimes it was their fathers, sometimes a boyfriend who had followed the same route as Sarah Powell’s loving friend, sometimes a customer, but that was uncommon, thankfully. The cases that really upset me were far more insidious.

I had more than a few girls who had found a boyfriend who ‘understood’, who ‘didn’t mind’, and they were almost always liars. They wanted sex, and they didn’t mind too much where they got it, up to a point, and whether that line was drawn at being seen in public with a tranny shemale ladyboy, or being pushed too far with questions about commitment, the reaction almost always seemed to be a violent one. Not always physical violence; sometimes it was outing, belittling, look at the ladyboy. It was often hard to assess which was the more harmful.

It coincided with a wave of violence against young gay men in the city, and while that was something that didn’t involve my girls, it was a barometer for public attitudes towards those they saw as ‘wrong’.

Fuck them.

So we all pulled together for Maisie, and she blossomed, as Nell and Cathy sailed through their A-levels and left for Aberystwyth University, their bodies following a similar route after Dr Thomas started their hormone regime. I took in Emma, Rachel, Kylie, Chloe; Nicola and Patricia, Serena; Alicia, who found a reconciliation with her family In Ruth’s place, as I watched from across the street.

And poor, lost Andrea, who left one night, along with our TV, and was found cold and stiff with a needle in her arm. That one hurt me deeply, and I was gratified when both Nell and Cathy came back to us for a few days, just to make sure I was OK.

Cling tightly to the good moments, Debbie Wells.

Andrea had been a lesson to me that I couldn’t fight everything and everyone, at least not and win. Nita and Heidi did their jobs, and I suspect rather more than that, as the inquest allowed me to give evidence in camera, ostensibly to protect the other girls, but I knew what was really going on and whose needs were being looked after. Obligations, just as Dad had taught me.

Andrea’s loss fucking well hurt, and the lesson was indeed a brutal one. I wasn’t omnipotent, I couldn’t save the world, but I had Rosie there, Carl as well, whenever there was a need, and each girl I, we, helped would pass back the ob.

The week after Andrea died, I rang Pat, seeking some way of getting my head straight, and in the end, I simply cried down the phone as she made the occasional nonsense comment to let me know she was still there.

“What do I do, Pat? Got to get out, but there’s too many of them now to bring up in the van!”

“Plas y Brenin, Debbie. They’ll sort you the space”

“Eh?”

“You know the Twin Lakes, up from the Mole pub?”

“I do”

“National Outdoor Centre, or Mountain Sports, whatever. Bunkbeds and outdoor courses. You got a bus licence?”

“Eh? No”

“But you can drive a minibus, twelve seats, can’t you? Hire one of them, speak to the Brenin, and I will meet you there. Bring Nell and Kim. Let your girls go out with the Brenin staff, and, well, you and I both know what will heal you. Fancy an overnight in the shelter?”

She paused, then continued a lot more softly.

“Be nice to make another good memory in that place, love. Do we have a deal?”

What else could I do but agree? That evening, I left the girls to their own affairs, after setting some housework and homework assignments, and fired up my bike, with no idea at all of where I was going. I had set off for the Bay, but I hadn’t gone more than half a mile before I realised that looking for birds wasn’t really a sensible idea after sunset. The bike, however, seemed to have its own ideas, and I ended up in Grangetown, rolling along to a particular bakery.

Which turned out to be a charity shop. There was a convenience store just up the road, so I stuck my head in.

“What can I get you, love?”

“Um, sorry. I was after some information”

“It wasn’t me, and that sheep wasn’t underage”

“Eh?”

“Sorry, love. Missus says my sense of humour’s not fit for polite company. Well, actually she says I’m a sicko, but hey, nobody’s perfect”

I found myself warming to him, and had a little moment of insight, comparing my own day job to his. We all found our own ways to combat boredom.

“Well, not after sheep, so no worries. I was wondering about the shop up the road. Used to be a bakery”

“What, Frank’s old place? Gossip about that, there is. How well do you know Frank?2

I decided to stretch the truth more than a little, while not actually lying.

“I used to work with him, when he was at Tesco”

“Ah. You heard about his wife, then?”

“I heard he got married. Haven’t seen him for a while”

“Ah. You won’t know, then. Don’t quite know how to put this”

“Try me”

“Well, they went off on a holiday to Gambia. He sold up when they got back, cause he came back on his own”

“His wife stayed out there?”

“Er, no. She came back on the same flight, with the lad who cleaned the hotel pool”

“Oh shit!”

“Absolutely. Anyway, she’s off to Penarth now, with her pool boy. Cow, in my opinion. Really did her man over, big style. I liked Frank. Not a bad bone in him, and he did nice savouries. Got a new place now, down by Cathays”

He gave me a much sharper look, then smiled.

“I’ll give you his new address, love. You could do an awful lot worse”

I left the shop confused, but my bike knew better, and I ended up back on the other side of the Taff, sitting on the beast as it ticked away, staring at a window display of bread rolls and wheat ears sculpted from dough, baked to a golden brown. The shop was closed, but I could see him in my mind’s eye, behind the counter, his smile, his gentleness…

I started up and rode away, visor up to allow the wind to dry my tears.

I can’t say that much about our trip up North, not because there wasn’t a lot to it, but because there was so much. I dropped Kim and the girls at the Centre, and met Pat at the nearby cottage she had rented. Nell and Cathy joined us later, having driven up from Aberystwyth. Kim herded the rest down to the ‘Mole Pub’ after they were settled in, and it was as if I had never left. Pat by my side, shepherd with a woolly hat standing at the bar, miserable ginger ponytail sitting silently in the furthest corner.

I say sitting quietly, but there was a smile for me, just that once, as he clearly recognised me from that time in Bethesda. I nodded a hello, but his face was already settling back down into the relaxation of depression.

Pat and I did spend a night in that shelter, and as it involved close cuddles and more than a few tears, I will leave it there. In the end, she had been right. The mountains worked their familiar magic, my girls were buzzing, and there were only two stops for greaseburgers on the way back. Cathy and Nell had taken their own moments, and with their hugs, they each gave me a simple message: I had been there for them; they would always be there for me.

Obligations. I missed Dad so much just then.

Back to the House, back to routine. Kim had taken Maisie in hand, and the two of them took so much of the work from me that I felt I was cruising, skiving perhaps. Paul brought me back down to Earth, as always.

“This is Gemma, Debbie. She runs this place, so you need to smile at her/ Debbie, Gemma already has a college place, but her, um, home situation is a bit awkward”

She looked awful. That was my first thought, and I wrestled it back down with a good slap, but she was over six foot in height, broad-shouldered and a little heavy in the face.

“What are you doing at college, Gemma?”

I realised she was trembling, so I dragged out a softer smile.

“PC Welby told you what we do here?”

“Yes. Says it’s a halfway house”

“He also says you have issues at home?”

“Um, yeah… you can see I’m not really a girl?”

Paul put his hand on her arm.

“Not a real girl? Don’t think so, Gemma. Remember what I said: no judgement here, OK? Want me to run through the basics with Debbie here?”

Her head drooped, whether with bashfulness or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell.

“Please”

He squeezed her arm before turning back to me.

“Familiar story, Debbie. She’s always known, never felt able to tell the family, so she started her college course, catering, baking, whatever it’s called, and her Dad thinks… what was it, Gemma? Who was he thinking of?”

“Gordon Ramsey”

“Ta. So she starts the course, he’s thinking Mr Sweary in the kitchen, and then he finds out she’s more Delia than Heston, so it’s out the door. Still got the college place, just needs a safe harbour. I’m asking around for a work experience placement”

My mouth took flight on its own.

“What’s your speciality, Gemma?”

“Patisserie. Cakes and stuff”

I nodded, and handed her over to one of the other girls to get settled in, and three days later I was in Cathays, pulling off my helmet as the bell on the door went ‘ting’. I drew a deep breath.

“Hello, Frank”