CHAPTER 66
I was definitely getting well-past my prime, although both Paul and Marlene, independently, called me a ‘well-aged bird’ after I mentioned it. When Sparky came out with the same joke, adding ‘but still a game one’, I asked him directly if there had been some sort of conspiracy between them.

I did my best to hide my smiles, though, as if they all felt free enough to be rude to me, they must hold me in some affection. It was a busy three months after our Welsh Mountain Odyssey, as I worked with Heidi and Nita to sort out the various school and college arrangements while coping with another three girls, all around thirteen years of age. Kim, as ever, was my rock, with Maisie coming up fast on her inside, but to my gratification, it was Charlie and Tiff who did the real work.

It seemed to lift them up as well, and while Tiff remained far more timid than her friend, Charlie was developing some real pugnacity. I began to suspect that if she hadn’t been able to escape that room, the bastards who were grooming her for gang rape would have been left with serious bruises. That thought was immediately followed by the recognition that the response to such a fight would have been brutal in the extreme, given what had already gone on, and as the Autumn school and college term came to an end, and Marlene started to show some evidence of serious stress, I forced that dream back into the box of ‘things that hadn’t happened thank god’.

It was already bloody Christmas, the speed of its arrival once more and so soon after the last having been the trigger for my age concerns, and of course we were in our accustomed venue. My friend was doing her level best to keep her active bitch face working, but there was something behind her eyes that spoke of pain, fatigue and fear. I caught her as she took a break, and asked the obvious question.

“You all right, love?”

Her eyes came to meet mine, and, after a quick check of the bar, she gave a rapid little head shake.

“You going up to the Satanic Kitten-Eaters’ place for New year again, Debbie?”

“Yes. Missed out last year… well, you know what happened last Christmas, enough said”

“I do, love. Trust me: I have lost more than a few people to the bigos…”

Her voice trailed off, and then she stood a little more upright.

“Your other girls okay tonight? I know you’ve got more of them at home”

“Yeah. Kim, Gemma and Patricia are doing duty tonight. Gemma’s volunteered to cover New Year as well”

“I get lost in the names, Deb. Gemma?”

“Older girl. Baker, pastry chef. Very shy”

“Let me guess: doesn’t pass well? And straight?”

I nodded.

“Yes. Really self-conscious, but she’s a strong one. Making a name and a career for herself, she is”

“Aye, and as herself, then. Strong girl indeed”

I started to chuckle, realising I had never told Marlene about Gemma’s arrival, dumped right where we were standing, or at least just outside, and that brought a proper laugh from Marlene, which faded away far too sharply.

“What’s up?”

“Ah, Deb, darling, it’s a bit like that Gemma scene. Everyone knows what and who we are here. Big fucking target painted over the door. Things aren’t wonderful outside it right now”

“More kickings?”

She looked down, and it was clear from her grip on the cup she was sipping how shaken she felt.

“Yes. Whole new level, at the moment. Broken bones, fucking rapes. Always twinks, Debbie. Big fucking straight man showing poofs and benders what real men do”

“What are the police doing about it? Fuck-all, I assume?”

“Ah, I have no idea. Couple of them have been in, picked up all my surveillance footage, took the discs away. Not heard back yet, if I ever will”

“Surveillance? Sounds a bit serious”

“You wouldn’t really get it, Debbie, being straight. Yes, I know, but you are not pink, you’re purple, remember? No, not getting into that chat, but you are a lucky one. Fade into the crowd, isn’t it? Look at that lot over there”

She waved at a couple of tables near the door, where a group of diesels sat a few yards away from a load of twinks, and I took her point.

“It was after the Duncan, Deb. Pub in Soho, a very pink one, got visited by a real fucking Nazi, who left them a present of a nail bomb. Ordered my cameras the week after. It’s why I do the things with the minibus, taxis, stuff like that. Not here, I swore, but they cunts are waiting down the road for my little boys. Not just my place, either. Yeah, I know I told you about this ages ago, but I am getting really worried that…”

Her head lifted again, dampness in the corners of her eyes.

“Going to have to go upstairs for a bit, darling, and sort my eyes out. Marlene does not do panda face. Big worries, I have. So many of those little boys there have no family left to them, nobody to… Nobody for the Filth to drag down to the mortuary to play next of kin games. Just bitchy old Marlene left for that job, and I am fucking dreading the next time that happens”

She was off, and I was left with the words ‘the next time’ hanging in the air as I thought of Andrea, grey and cold, and poor Serena. Marlene was soon back, and ramping up to her normal levels of snarky mock-aggression, but it put just a bit of a damper on my evening.

I didn’t share any of the news with my girls, apart from Kim, and that not until after the Clubhouse party, Gemma yet again standing in as ‘warden’ at the House. That was a night that left Maria in deep shock, although she ended up laughing more each day that took her further away from the actual event.

It seemed that not even the naked bodies displayed at the Welsh Coast rally had been sufficient preparation for the poor girl.

I was settling down in the living room about a week and a half later, not looking forward to the following morning, working the short routes all week, but Kim had done the House a seriously nice dinner of roast gammon with a nice mix of roasted vegetables to go with it, and I was in that floating state of contentment that follows a decent meal, dimly aware of the BBC news droning away on the TV, when Kim suddenly shouted “Shush!” and grabbed the god box, hitting ‘record’.

I looked up, and there was some senior copper in all sorts of badges and braid outside Cardiff Central nick.

“Following a long and complicated investigation, five men have now been charged with a number of offences arising from a series of attacks on young men in the Cardiff and Swansea areas”

The next thing I saw was the outside of the Smugglers, as Kim explained how she had spotted the teaser at the start of the programme and recognised our other home. Some identikit woman reporter was wearing her ‘concerned face’ and talking about how at least twelve boys had been attacked, “Climate of fear”, etc, before cutting to someone I almost didn’t recognise.

“Myron Prosser is the landlord of the Smugglers’ Arms, a popular gay and lesbian venue in Cardiff. Myron, how has this affected the community?”

It was Marlene, in very odd clothes for her, face absolutely bare of make-up.

“Well, Julia, it has been devastating. We are very much a community, and each attack has been on someone known to us, many of them our friends or relatives. It has been dreadful. We wondered how it would end. Would we be looking at a funeral?”

The camera cut away and back to the senior copper.

“Yesterday, Superintendent Bevan Williams of South Wales Police announced that arrests had been made in respect of the wave of attacks, and today he released the details of five men who have now been charged with offences including grievous bodily harm and rape. He stressed that inquiries are ongoing. With me now, to discuss the case, is Inspector Samir Patel, who coordinated the team that was tasked with ending this nightmare. Inspector Patel?”

I recognised him, the second familiar face in the piece, as a man I remembered being next to the bar when I had first started going to the Smugglers. Asian, balding, with a really badly broken nose, he looked extremely smug.

“I wasn’t behind the team, Julia. I took over after the arrests, as the original team leader was on loan from our colleagues in Dyfed-Powys. I did, however, inherit an efficient and dedicated team, and all credit should go to them for this result”

“Inspector, there have been suggestions that these assaults have not been taken seriously”

The second copper smiled, and it was rather scary.

“I will simply say that today’s result shows how incorrect those suggestions were”

Was he getting snarky because the reporter was telling him he was or had been slow on dealing with things? As I listened, I decided that he was actually switched on to the extreme. That was a very driven man, though he hid it well. In some odd ways, he reminded me of Carl. The reporter was still at it.

“Who do you have in custody, Inspector?”

“Well, Julia, I will have to limit what I say for obvious reasons related to the criminal justice process. I do not want to prejudice their rights to a fair trial”

“Thank you, Inspector Patel”

The next thing on screen were mug shots, five of them, and I heard several gasps from the girls.

“The five men now charged have been named as Jamie Evans, Matthew Hansen, Joseph Evans, Robert Evans and Dafydd Pritchard. All have been remanded in custody while investigations continue. Julia Morrison, BBC Wales, Cardiff”

Tiff was crying, I realised, sobbing hard, and Charlie was wrapped around her, her own tears failing to cover the rage burning its way through her.

“Fucking bastards! I hope they kicked the fucking shit out of them!”

Maisie went across with Patricia and Nicky to help the two girls to their feet and led them from the room, Tricia murmuring something about walking it off, and Kim rewound the recording to watch it once more. Marlene looked so awkward in the interview, but he was obviously doing it as a duty, and as I watched him, her again I could see many of the same expressions I had watched cross his face at Christmas. There was a new one to keep them company there, though, and that one was relief.

The girls stayed out, although Patricia returned, slumping down nest to me.

“Charlie and Tiff say sorry, Debbie”

“Nothing to be sorry for, love. I’ll tell them that when they are ready”

“Already done that, Nana”

“They knew those faces, didn’t they?”

She started crying, as quietly as I had ever seen before, and looked into the book shelves for some sort of inspiration.

“Yes. Two of them were the pair that threatened Charlie in hospital when she was raped, and one of those two… One of them raped Tiff, and he was the one Charlie says was already unzipping himself on the stairs when she got out of that window. Yes, we all talk to each other. You know that”

“Are you okay, Tricia?”

She sighed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Don’t really use make-up, so not a worry. Serious answer: I will be. Charlie and Tiff will be as well, I think, as long as those bastards get convicted. Oh, and that Joseph Evans? He’s the chaser, the one Charlie called that wonky-eyed so-and-so, though she uses a different word. I’m too ladylike for that one”

She was staring at the faces frozen on the screen, as was Kim, and the latter looked over to us and bared her teeth.

“Don’t think any of us will be feeling very ladylike right now, so I will say it. Cunts, all of them. What are we going to do about them?”