CHAPTER 2
Once more I woke to a hangover, and realised I really needed to find another pastime. It wasn’t just the headache and dry mouth, nor the puking I had been doing far too often since Mam and Dad…

Break the mood, woman. I started the process of a solitary breakfast, this time a bowl of cornflakes with much more milk than I would normally have used, in an attempt to rehydrate a bit. There were other reasons to cut back, of course, not least being the need to protect my licence and my livelihood.

It all looked so obvious in the morning; it was just that the evenings left me brooding in my loneliness and solitude, and the pub was not that far, and, and, and. I decided to go for a walk, grab a bus into the City, whatever looked simple and easy. Something to burn off a little of the angst and restlessness. On with the usual rig of comfortably worn-in jeans and para boots, topped with band tee under a cheap tartan shirt and my faithful leather. A small rucksack, a quick check of the kitchen cupboards and fridge to decide what might be needed, and I headed for the front door.

There was an envelope on the mat, no stamp visible, my name written in ballpoint on the front. No address, just my name. I picked it up, ripped it open, and immediately revised my plans for the day.

Hiya Debbie
Welcome back to Wales. Saying hello this way because we didn’t want to cause any problems with your neighbours by having patches knocking at your door. Get your feet under the table properly before pissing off the straights!

Got a prezzie for you. Bring your lid and your leather and be at…

There were directions and bus numbers that would take me to an industrial estate on the way out to Rhymney, and I was intrigued. The signature, of course, was ‘Rosie and Carl’. I sat on the second step of my staircase for twenty minutes or so, reading the note over and over again, while trying to set my head in order.

Why had I moved down to Cardiff, after all, if not to be somewhere close to people I cared for, and who cared for me? He was still mine, and always would be, even if he was Rosie’s. I just needed to find a way of dealing with the situation that might move things onwards.

Fuck it, Miss Petrie. Get out into the fresh air and think it through. I found my lid, setting it on the little table I had placed by the front door, and, after making bloody sure I had mu keys, pulled my newly-owned front door shut and set off round the corner to the parade of shops. The Olive Grove was open, so I did the polite thing, remembering Fester, and bought myself a coffee before asking the woman serving me for bus advice.

“You were in a couple of days ago, weren’t you, love? With two lads?”

“Yeah. Mick and Jacko. They helped me with the move; I’ve just bought a house round the corner”

“Oh yes? Not from Cardiff, though, are you?”

“No. I was born up north, near Chester”

“Not English, though. I can hear that. I’m Ruth, and no jokes about that”

“Debbie. What jokes?”

“Not heard? Must be the first, love. Token woman, that’s the joke, when men get bad with drink. George, Ralph, Huey and Ruth”

It suddenly clicked, and I laughed out loud before making a remark about speaking to the four names on the Great White Telephone.

“You’ve got it, then. What’s brought you down here from gog land?”

I twitched at that one, and she clearly noticed.

“I was living in the Midlands, Ruth. My parents… They had an accident, and, well, nobody there for me anymore, no family. Got some friends down here, so I thought I’d make a clean break”

She reached across to pat my hand.

“So sorry to hear that, Debbie. Tings will get better. I know that sounds silly, trite, aye, but this isn’t a bad little community. Treat people well, and they’ll do the same back”

“You sound like my Dad. He was always on about doing the right thing, even for strangers. Making it more likely a stranger would do it for you”

“He sounds like he was a good man, love--- look, sit down, take these and I’ll do you a refill on the house”

I took the pack of tissues she had put into my hand, and she was across with a fresh cup of coffee as soon as I had settled myself again. As I handed back what was left of the little pack, she pulled out another chair and sat opposite me.

“Quiet now, isn’t it, and I can see the counter. Now, what are you doing down here, work wise, that is? Got a job?”

“I’m a lorry driver, ruth. I was working for a firm called Mossman’s, and the boss has some contacts down here, so I have a couple of offers, introductions, that sort of thing”

“Who with, if that’s not too nosey a question?”

“First one is a firm called Fratelli’s”

“Bert’s firm, that is, Bert Fratelli. I get a few of their lads here regular like. He seems sound, the way they talk about him. Think he’s got contracts with a couple of the supermarket chains, ‘just-in-time’ stuff”

“What’s that?”

She grinned.

“I’m a businesswoman, love. I know all about stock levels and wastage. ‘Just-in-time’ is this modern thing where you don’t stock up, you time new deliveries to come in just as the stuff on the shelves sells out. Supposed to mean you don’t have to spend money on extra storage, a warehouse behind the store, that sort of thing”

“Does that work?”

She laughed out loud, and I realised I was definitely getting to like her style and personality. My mood lifted a little more as she explained.

“Debbie, if I have a sudden rush of breakfast orders one week, and sod all the next, I don’t cut down my stocks, because the next week might bring another rush. That’s what freezers are for. I can’t carry a loss if I lose sales like that because my bacon is delivered ‘just-in-time’, so I keep a decent quantity out the back, just-in-case rather than the other. Tell you what: go onto Tesco’s, or Sainsbury, or any of those big shops, and look for the special offers on the shelves. What do you find?”

“Don’t know what you mean”

“What you find, Debbie, are gaps. There’s the offer, but the stock’s already gone. That’s what ‘just-in-time’ does. The big shops can carry that, because they sell so much other stuff, but I couldn’t. Anyway, what I was going to say, before I got ranting, was that it might mean your unloading for those deliveries might get a bit frantic, so make sure you’ve got a decent breakfast and a couple of cups of good coffee down your neck each morning”

She then fiddled with the little menu on the table, whistling in a totally obvious way, and I burst out laughing, my mood so much better.

“Hint taken, Ruth! Now, if you have any local advice, I would appreciate it, and I’m also looking for an idea of where to go for a walk. Suggestions, bus times, that sort of thing”

Sod it, I thought, and a toasted sandwich came a few minutes into her account of Places To Avoid, like the red-light district just down the road in Splott.

“You like wild things, or is it shops and stuff you want?”

“What do you mean ‘wild things’, Ruth?”

“Well. My son, Max, he’s a big bird watcher. Well, he’s not that big, yet, but you take my meaning. He goes down to Tiger Bay sometimes. OK in the daytime, it is, and if you get down by where the Taff comes out into the bay, there’s supposed to be lots of birds there, what with all the mud. You’d need some binoculars, telescope, that sort of thing”

“I’ve got a pair my Mam had, somewhere. She was a big… both of my parents were into the nature thing, in a big way. Taught me a lot”

“Well, take the rest of these tissues, aye, and go and find your binoculars, and if you’re not too late, stop in and tell me what you’ve seen”

It was a brilliant idea. I popped back to my new place, and found Mam’s old optics in a box I had marked to go up into the loft, and soon found myself on a bus for the Bay. That area was clearly not exactly the most upmarket of places, but I worked my way through the buildings until I was on the east bank of the Taff’s mouth, where the river found its way through a bleak expanse of mud flats that were broken only by little drainage channels and odd bits of marine architecture I assumed were some sort of navigation aid.

There were little groups of birds on the mud, some obviously resting gulls, while others were smaller and dark, scuttling around like clockwork toys or walking slowly, step by step, their heads down as they probed the mud. A couple of more serious birdwatchers had telescopes set up on tripods, consulting books every so often before making notes in little pads. It was all of ten minutes before one of them decided to approach me.

“Sh’mae, love. You know what you’re looking at?”

I quickly checked my exits before checking him, seeing a short man with a halo of white hair around a bald head, all over a beard to rival Gandalf’s. He looked to be in his seventies, and as he caught the way my eyes flicked around and over him, he grinned.

“Too old for that, I am, love, and the Missus would stop my beer! No, just seeing what you’re using, and you’ve got no guide, unless it’s in that rucksack. Just thought I’d offer some pointers. I’m Bert”

I felt no threat, so I stuck out my hand. “Debbie!”

I grinned at him as we shook, trying to ease any tension.

“Just moved down here, Bert. One of my new neighbours suggested this place, so I dug out my Mam’s old binoculars, and yes, I am lost. Mam and Dad showed me all sorts of stuff, but it was all inland. Owl pellets and that, yeah?”

He nodded.

“Right… the thing here is that it all changes with the tide. Water goes out, birds go out with it, so you need a decent scope to see them properly. Then you want a proper guide book, to tell you what’s what. Hang on while I set my scope up for you”

Over the next two hours, he showed me four different sorts of gulls, redshanks, dunlin, several other wading birds, and a couple of curlew.

“I’ve heard them, Bert, just not seen them”

“Where was that?”

“Up in Northumberland, when…when my Mam and Dad went. Where we sprinkled their ashes. Sorry, betting a bit too personal”

“Not at all, love, not at all. I see why… What work do you do, love?”

“I’m a driver. Wagons”

Suddenly, he was laughing.

“Bugger me, this must be the weirdest job interview I’ve ever done!”

“Eh?”

“You Deborah Wells, by any chance?”

“How’d you know that?”

A grin through his beard.

“Bert Fratelli, love! We have an appointment in a couple of days. Now, shall we get that out of the way here and now, while the birds are calling, and the sun is almost out?”

I rode the bus back to my new address in a much better mood, revelling in the fact that I had, yet again, walked into exactly the right stranger just when I needed them most. I ate my evening meal at Ruth’s, leaving her almost crying with laughter as I explained my encounter with the old man. I left the pub alone that evening, and the next day caught the bus out to the industrial estate in a much better mood, as well as being without a hangover, my lid beside me on the bench seat.

Off at the stop I needed, looking around for any clues to the reason for our meeting, before spotting a small group of bikes parked on the far side of a great sweep of car parking spaces. Their riders were waving their arms over their heads, so I waved back and trudged over to them.

Rosie, of course, and Sam. And Carl. Class, Debbie. We spoke and hugged our hellos, as Rosie introduced another couple of people, including a solid man in Culhwch colours.

Carl laid his hand on my shoulder.

“Debbie Petrie, this is Oily. He’s my brother, and he’s also my brother, if you take my meaning. Bro, Debbie here’s my sister-in-law, like I told you”

Oily nodded.

“Yup. Got you, bro. Hiya, girl. Got your lid?”

“Yeah. Where are we going?”

“Round this car park for now, love. That’s why we brought the prospect here”

He indicated Sam, who grinned.

“At least I only had to ride it one way, Debbie! Going back on Oily’s afterwards. Brought this for you”

I realised that there while there were three bikes, one was Carl’s Triumph, another was clearly his brother’s ride, a heavily modified and very large Kawasaki with ape-hanger bars. The third was much smaller, a conventional single-cylinder Honda with a fully-enclosed chain, wearing L-plates. Sam, as ever, had to over-explain things.

“I got a full licence, Debbie, so I don’t really need L=plates, cause they are for learners, and I’m not, but somebody had to ride it down, and I’m still a prospect, so it was my job, but I’m riding back with Oily”

I stared at the Hinda, and Rosie coughed for my attention.

“We knew you didn’t have a bike licence, love, and we thought while you can drive the big buggers, they aren’t something you can run around town in, or rally on. It’s a reliable little bike, easy to run, and uses almost no petrol. We thought, well, get you started, get your test, then move onto something worthwhile. Give you a few lessons here in the car park before you ride it home. I sorted out a cover note for you, and it’s got tax and M.O.T.”

I stepped forward for a proper embrace.

‘Sister-in-law’. I had no complaints about that idea. Make the best of what you can get, Debbie.

CHAPTER 3
We spent two hours in the car park, as Rosie talked me patiently through the mechanics of riding a bike as opposed to not interfering with it from a pillion seat. There were a few niggles I could see, such as the odd speedometer and the lack of a side stand, but the little machine was docile and uncomplicated to ride.

“Down here, Debbie. This is the drain plug, and…hang on…”

She put some effort into unscrewing a black plug in the crankcase.

“Oil filler cap doubles as a dipstick. Only place you need to put oil; it’s not a bloody two-stroke. Chain is in a case, so it won’t get too cruddy, but you will need to lube it every so often, and these bits tension the chain. Locking nuts, see?”

It was well within the mechanical knowledge I had been given by Dad, never mind the stuff I had picked up at Mossman’s. I realised I was already looking at the bike with visions of getting something a bit larger and more potent. Oily’s hand came down on my shoulder.

“Dreaming already, love? Two bits of advice for you. First is not to load stuff onto that rack, but use the pillion seat. The handling goes all to fuck if you put heavy stuff right at the back. Second tip is to lose the mirrors a month before your test date, if you go for a full licence”

“Why’s that?”

“They fail you for lack of proper rear observation if you don’t look over your shoulder a lot. Taking the mirrors off makes you do it, gives you the habit, aye? Don’t ask Sam how he knows that!”

Carl laughed out loud.

“Or you, Bro!”

A wry grin, a round of hugs, and they all started to fasten their lids. Rosie held me at arms’ length for a moment.

“This is where you start getting a life back, love. You know where the club house is, and the welcome there is permanent. That comes from the Prez, not me, but same-same from me, aye? We’ll ride you back to your place, just so you get an idea of what traffic’s like, then we’re off. Not letting you get taken out on your first proper ride, are we?”

I looked across to Sam, with my own grin.

“My hair down inside my leather, wasn’t it?”

His answering smile let me see that he was finding his own place in the world, and it looked like a good one. He tossed me a small paper bag.

“You’ll want these, Debbie!”

Fingerless leather mitts. The world moved slightly, before my mood sprang back, and I straddled the little bike, rose to my tiptoes to rock it forward off the centre stand, then kicked it into life. We made our way sedately back towards Adamsdown, where the other three bikes left me and roared off towards their own homes.

Down the little alley behind the house, and into the wooden shed. I dumped my helmet indoors, then went straight out to catch the bus again, after padlocking the shed door. I wasn’t going to ride out to a bike shop to get a lock and chain for the bike, as by definition I would have to leave the bike outside, on the street, without a lock.

Two hours later and I was home again, a heavy plastic-coated chain with a massive padlock now running through the bike’s back wheel and round the saddle. Enough for the day; I made a mug of hot chocolate and took it up to my bedroom, where it sat on the bedside cabinet along with the post from the doormat as I half-lay on a spread bath towel doing a number of necessary but rather uncomfortable things with plastic items to the new anatomy. A shower followed, then a simple meal of mince and potatoes before heading off to the pub.

I had the formal appointment with Bert to come, so I took a seat at the bar, and when Harry came over to me, I ordered an orange juice and lemonade.

“Wagon tonight, Debbie? I mean, I know you drive them, but you know what I mean”

“Yeah, Harry. Job interview tomorrow, and besides, I’ve just got a new bike, so trying to be good”

He lowered his voice, checking who was near.

“Thank fuck for that, woman. I don’t mind serving people who like a bit to drink, but I get a bit worried when I see them doing it all the time. You’ve been here almost every night, and that’s not a good thing, given how you can put the beer away”

I nodded, more than a little touched by his concern.

“Yeah. It was nice not having a hangover this morning, for once”

His concern encouraged me, and I could feel the letter in my jacket’s inside pocket.

“Got a question for you, Harry, and it’s a bit cheeky, so I will understand if you want to tell me to sod off”

“Really?”

“Er, yeah. I wanted a recommendation for another pub”

That one brought a roar of laughter.

“Let me guess, Debbie. If I’m wrong, just slap me!”

“Yeah?”

“You after a dyke pub by any chance?”

I don’t know exactly which expression he saw on my face, but his hands both went up in defence and denial.

“Sorry, girl! Looks like I got that one wrong! I assumed, you know, biker, lorries, all that…”

He spotted my grin even as I tried to keep it away from my face.

“Harry, you are wrong, aye, but you are also bloody well right, just not exactly. I am straight, so it’s not for me. I just have a couple of mates who are looking to visit, so yes, I am looking for somewhere safe”

“They dykes or poofters?”

A flash of memory, of being advised about my own word choice, and I had to pull my horns in once again.

“A lovely man, who was a very good friend to my late parents, and his bloke. I think I prefer the term ‘gay couple’, if that’s OK”

He nodded, slightly shamefaced, and wrote an address down on a piece of notepaper.

“This place, in the city centre, is probably the safest. There’s a load of places near the station, and some not far from the cathedral, oddly. Lots of them…”

He started to snigger, so I gave him the eyebrow thing, and he snorted out “On Queen Street”, so I let him have that one, joining in with his laughter.

“What’s special about this place, then?”

“Ah, couple of things. A queer bloke I know says it’s got a lot of separate rooms, so there’s quieter bits you can sit in rather than all that disco shit. Other thing is the landlord, who is a real hard case. He doesn’t take any kind of shot, never lets anything build up a head of steam. That’s a real talent for running a pub, isn’t it? He’s a drag queen as well. Only a young lad, but he knows his stuff. You want somewhere safe for your mates, that’ll be the spot. Just don’t be too obvious when they come out, or they might get a kicking”

I gave him a harder stare.

“You don’t mind that sort of man, then?”

“Ah, Debbie, it’s just another customer, isn’t it? As long as he isn’t trying to get a drive up my Marmite Motorway, do I give a shit? I mean, of course, I couldn’t give a shit if he was---”

“ENOUGH!”

I shook my head in disbelief.

“I do not know if I should ever trust your advice again, after that! Tell you what; if they do come for a visit, I will bring them in here, just so you can see they’re just two ordinary men, but please, no more of those jokes. Please”

He grinned happily, his work of winding me up clearly done.

“Do yourself a favour, then, and go and have a look at the place. Just be ready to turn down some unwanted attention from the women. Anyway, job interview tomorrow?”

“Yup. Bert Fratelli”

“Good man. Sound, he is. What do you know about him?”

“Er, I met him”

I ran through the events down at the Bay, and this time Harry was laughing.

“Take this the right way, Debbie, but I do think your bloody luck is changing! I’m having a cuppa now; want one yourself?”

I grinned back.

“Go on, then!”

I was early at Fratelli’s yard the next morning, as I had set off with some pessimism as to how quickly and safely I could navigate the Honda through Cardiff, and I felt a little out of place in the reception waiting area, as all the women who were visible seemed to have hair teased higher than I thought possible, as well as wearing huge quantities of make-up. I was in my normal rig of jeans, para boots and leather jacket, the mitts sitting inside my helmet.

“Mr Fratelli will see you now, Miss Wells”

The red fingernails pointed to a partly-open door, and I walked through to find a large desk covered in papers, a spare chair to one side of the front and Bert behind, in a suit this time, his halo of hair almost glowing in the light from the window. His face took on its own light as a grin split his beard.

“Good to see you again, Debbie! Grab the chair, love”

It was quite a detailed interview, with a few trick questions sprinkled in, but I spotted each one in time. The last one was the hardest to turn round.

“What have you heard about my firm, Debbie?”

I rambled through some of the comments Ruth had passed, and stupidly mentioned her comments about ‘just-in-time’. The old man sighed.

“Bane of my life, that is. You know now who I do most of my work for, and they really do get pushy. So here is my view on that one, just so there is no misunderstanding. I expect my deliveries to be made on time. I don’t like people who dawdle. That is not what it sounds like, though. You deliver late, you tell me why. If it’s for a good reason, the customer can take a running jump. My drivers will not cut corners, drive like idiots just for the sake of a clock and an impatient client. I am not having… We had a couple of drivers who took liberties, and there were some damaged cars, and in one case… No risk-taking. My tasking office sets times so that the load leaves us a little earlier. Gets to the site on time, but it doesn’t make my people have to rush. If that suits you?”

“Sounds ideal to me, Bert. I mean, I don’t know the city yet, so I’ll be a bit slow at first, obviously”

“Two things, Debbie. First, you’ll be riding as a second driver for the first month. Second, you heard of the knowledge? London cabbies?”

“No”

“They use mopeds or motorbikes to learn the routes. You’ve got a helmet with you. You can start doing some exploring. Just remember that an artic is a little bigger”

I ran the conversation through once more.

“Are you saying I’ve got the job, then?”

He roared with laughter.

“Debbie, love, you passed the real interview down by the Bay! This was just what the Yanks call orientation. Welcome to Fratelli’s. There’s a contract with Jenny at reception. Have a read, sign, and we’ll see you back here tomorrow”

CHAPTER 4
I signed, of course, and once home started the ritual of ringing round the other three firms with whom Mr Mossman had arranged job interviews. I found myself feeling an awful lot happier in myself; for the first time since a windy day in Northumberland I was seeing a future ahead.

I suppose it was a mixture of things associated with that word, a future. Carl and Rosie clearly assumed I would be working my way upwards in the biking world, at least in terms of engine size, and the new job promised an awful lot of opportunities to find a little self-respect. Ruth and I seemed to have made a connection, not to mention the smiles I was getting from Harry, and his concern for my liver at the expense of his own income.

Most of all, it was that session with Bert and his telescope that I found so healing. There were flashbacks, of course, to ‘cock pheasant ducks’ and day-dozing owls, but I felt, hoped, that a little more formal learning might lift me that little bit higher, and perhaps leave me able to smile at those memories, rather than weep.

High hopes indeed.

I parked the Honda in a safe corner of the yard the next morning, chain back through wheel and saddle, and went through the induction process that had almost completely been covered by Bert. All that really remained was to pick up and put on the three-piece uniform the company provided: polo-shirt, jacket and work trousers, along with a pair of safety boots for the sake of my toes. I spent the next week and a half revisiting my time with Mick by riding in the left-hand seat as I learned routes and customers, as well as those other traditional and more pleasant lessons about friendly cafes and pint mugs of warmth and refreshment.

The nights were still a problem, for with my new approach to what Harry had to offer, my evenings remained filled with company, but the nights were sober, wakeful and far too long. I was still working day shifts, and only Monday to Friday, so my weekends would be mine for a while. Soft drinks with Harry were answering my need for company, but I had plans.

A week of runs to supermarkets large and small, the trailer sign-written for the major companies as part of a two-way deal, and the first major aspect of my training. We bounced, literally, in a tractor unit to one of their big depots to pick up a loaded trailer, which we then ran across to the destination, where a little swarm of loaders ran fork-lift and pallet truck into the depth of the unit. Back with the empty to the depot, swap for another full one, grab the consignment note and off again.

Bert had me running endless relays like that for that first week, clearly to pick up the routes and commit them to memory, but the second saw me back on the main roads, this time as a main driver, with a guide in the other seat. Longer runs out to Swansea and Carmarthen, and then on to Haverford West, where there was a secondary depot that broke our loads down into smaller ones for the local shops rather than the warehouse-sized superstores that ringed the bigger cities. I found myself relaxing more and more into my life, but I started to hear a few jokes after the second week.

Apparently, or so the word went, my musical tastes were not to be argued with. Ride with Debbie, went the gossip, and be ready to have your ears beaten half to death. And woe betide any disco fan. The problem, which it really wasn’t, sorted itself the third week, once I had obviously passed my probation, induction, orientation, whatever, to the satisfaction of The Management, and I was on my own again, which suited my mood far better.

I had picked up a few more bands in my list of things to listen to, particularly in blues and R&B, so my solitude left me rolling along in my own sonic cloud, free to sing as loudly, and I suspect off-key, as I wanted. Once I was allocated a regular roster, I found a camera bag that would carry my sandwiches, some chocolate and a box of cassettes, the padded dividers keeping everything safe.

Five weeks in, and Bert was ringing the changes in his own way. We, the drivers, all preferred those, longer runs, because it meant fewer frantic sessions hitching, offloading, unhitching, rinse and repeat, so our work pattern was based on two weeks of local stuff followed by one week of those longer trips. It suited me, as the shorter stuff kept me sociable, by force of necessity. I had to interact with more human beings on those jobs.

I did two things on my first weekend off, and one was a simple one: I found a bookshop, and after pumping the boss for advice, I bought a decent bird watching guide. I looked at the telescopes for sale in a camera shop, and winced at their price, so Mam’s old bins would do for a while. The bird guide, though, just turned out to be the first of several.

The second thing I did involved the addresses Harry had written down for me. I waited until it was heading towards drinking time, leaving the bike at home with the intention of heading back to Harry’s after an ‘explore’ of what Cardiff Had to offer the discerning poofter, and in my innocence I made a couple of mistakes.

The first was in heading into a bar that turned out to be specifically for men. There was a man in a leather vest over a very tight and spotlessly white T-shirt at the door.

“You got the right place, love?”

“Sorry?”

“No fish here, darling. Not even if there’s a cock in those jeans. No fag hags, no tourists, no fish. No women. OK? Don’t slam it on your way out, ta!”

I found myself out on the street once more, for the first time in ages actually lost for words. A couple of deep breaths, then cross that one off the list, and fuck ‘em.

I sat in a couple of more for a soft drink, but there was nothing at all attracting me, and the number of people in each one was very, very low; my first real encounter with the “Late night club crawl” culture. I was used to places where people drank into the late morning, but they usually started the process as soon as their bike was parked and their tent up. These people were clearly lightweights.

Finally, I came to the place Harry had thought would work, an older building called “The Smugglers”. I hot a little confused about the name, as apostrophes seemed to appear at random throughout the place, but never mind. I walked around as a reconnaissance, and could see what Harry meant. Rather than one huge open space, like a modern pub, or the old-fashioned ‘bar and lounge’ split I was used to, the place was like one of the older bookshops I had visited with Mam, where odd rooms held different categories, and you could never be quite sure you had seen the whole of the inside…

Mam. Shit; it still hurt, and I realised it probably always would.

“I said are you OK, love?”

“Um? Sorry!”

I was at the main bar again, and the bar… person was leaning over towards me, a towering wig nearly brushing the racked glasses overhead. I dug out a smile.

“Sorry. Just a few old memories playing up. Could you do me a Coke? Ice and a slice, aye?”

“On the way, love. You new in the Big Shitty?”

“Sorry?”

“What did you ever do to deserve such philistines, Marlene? The Stranglers, darling. ‘Just a Peasant in the Big Shitty’. It’s music. You might have heard of the concept. Ice and a slice, you said? Lemon or lime or orange?”

“Could I try lime, please? And would you mind if I asked a couple of questions?”

“CARLY, DARLING!”

A far less flamboyantly dressed woman looked in through the archway at the end of the bar.

“Marlene?”

“Got a nosy parker here, sweetie. Can you watch this end for a bit while it’s quiet?”

‘Marlene’ got her nod of agreement, then opened a little doorway at our end and led me to a corner table, walking surprisingly easily in some towering heels while carrying a cup of tea and my Coke. Once we were seated, she, he, I was a little lost, raised her painted eyebrows.

“Well? Journalist, tourist, or fucking plain clothes filth? And when I say ‘plain’, your clothes take that word to a new depth of the sort I would never have been able to imagine without seeing you in fucking front of me!”

Bloody hell… I gathered my class to me.

“Not a journalist, not the filth, and I live here, so what else do you have in the way of guesses?”

“Darling, I don’t care where you live, a tourist is a tourist, a perve is a perve. Now…”

Marlene stared at me for about twenty seconds, then smiled, in a far more genuine way than she had done before.

“You a bull dyke or a tranny, love? Not sure about the second, cause those tits look realer than Marlene can ever aspire to”

Deep breaths, Debbie, and class.

“Straight girl, I am, and these are mine and entirely home-grown”

Marlene sagged slightly, and another smile came out, even softer.

“Sorry, darling. Take this the right way, OK? I can see things there. I’ve been in drag all my life, or nearly, and I have good radar. It’s not a problem if you’re one of those change people. Just, we get a few diesels in, and they can be a bit SCUM thingy”

“Marlene, is it?”

“Yes, sweety. And you are?”

“Debbie. Just, please, I am absolutely fucking lost in all that shite. You speak English?”

That brought a genuine laugh, the first of many I was to hear.

“From the beginning then? I was asking if you are a girl who likes other girls. Some of them look more like men than Daley bloody Thompson does. Some of them are into that ‘Society for Cutting Up Men’ rubbish, but I bar them when I find them. Not having that shit in here, or the other way. What’s funny?”

“I think I got that on the way here. Loads of comments about ‘fish’ from some wanker in a leather vest and white T-shirt, with a moustache”

“Oh, dear, a fucking clone. Was he wearing chaps as well? Shit, love! What the fuck did he do?”

I fought back from the edge of tears, but only just.

“Sorry. It was something Mam used to say”

“Oh. How long, Debbie?”

“Not that long. Just me, now, but memories, words, you know?”

“I know. You want a proper cuppa rather than sugary shit?”

I nodded, and she was back in a few minutes with, of all things, a pint mug.

“I guessed this might be more welcome. Anyway, if I am wrong, you can slap me, but not where it will leave a mark. You’re a transsexual, am I right?”

“It’s that obvious?”

Marlene put her hand on mine.

“No. Not at all. I just have a bit of an insight, and an eye for things. Spent so long getting my drag right, I can see a few of the problems you people… the problems a newer woman might have to face. You’re straight, you say?”

“Yes. Absolutely”

“Well, that’s going to piss off some of my customers. Anyway, fresh start here, OK? You say you have some questions. Awkward ones?”

“I don’t think so. What it is, I have a friend, a couple of friends, and they’re a couple, and I was looking for somewhere safe for a drink, a night out thing if they visit, somewhere they don’t have to pretend they’re just good mates sort of thing. Not somewhere too loud, or full of wankers wearing chaps”

The second genuine laugh.

“Then you have exactly the right place in my bijou little establishment! How old are they? Twinks? Sorry: young men, or well-aged and well-hung?”

I found myself laughing at that one, as well as beginning to like Marlene, whatever I was meant to call them. They patted my hand again.

“Let me know when they are visiting, and I will tell you what we have on. We do a lot of special nights, drag acts, disco and so on, but sometimes we just have a social or support group session. There’s always a quiet spot somewhere to have a sit and natter”

We chatted, far more happily in my case, until my pint of tea was done, and I was ready to head over to Harry’s for a proper drink. As I rose, I received another genuinely warm smile.

“We have a transsexual support group here as well, Debbie. I won’t out you to them, and I doubt they’d spot you anyway, but you come back. I can always do with sensible customers. Let me know when the boys are down, and I’ll keep you a quiet corner”

Ruth was right about me, it seemed. I did seem to fall on my feet. I filed Marlene’s information away in my mind, along with the ways of telling one gull from another given to me by Bert, and hopped the bus back to Adamsdown for a quiet drink before bed.

The following week was a heavy one, running several trailers to large local supermarkets, many of those trailers being fridges, with all that extra fun of making sure the trailer’s power was running as sweetly as the tractor unit’s. The other reason I hated refrigerated trailers was the faff at the delivery end, as various jumped-up junior managers felt it was their crowning role in life, the very pinnacle of their career, to piss about with thermometers before signing off on the delivery.

I remembered Mick’s useful advice not to ‘piss off the Cussers’, and extended it to junior managers.

I was sitting on a tool cabinet in Tesco, eating my sandwiches after one more fridge drop, as what I was starting to call micromanagers waved clipboards around and dictated to their underlings how to handle pallet truck and fork lift, and seeing to my mild amusement that the fork lift driver was wearing headphones, when there was a cough next to me. I looked up in some surprise to find a tall man holding out a steaming mug.

“Tea do you? Got some sugar if you want some”

It was a welcome offer, as the air had an edge to it, so I nodded my thanks.

“No sugar for me, mate. This some new perk?”

He smiled, and just like Marlene’s there was real warmth there to go with that in the mug.

“Nope! I’ve just seen you come in a few times, and it’s always the same. You end up sitting and looking bored while they argue over what comes off first”

I shrugged and nodded, and his smile turned into a grin.

“They don’t do it with the male drivers, you know, just let them muck in and get the trailer emptied”

“I tried that, and they told me to leave it alone, that they knew what they were doing and that!”

“Yeah. Stay out of the way of men’s work, little girl?”

“Pardon? Who drives the bloody wagon?”

A happy laugh, and another grin.

“When did male chauvinism ever follow any logic except its own? I’m Frank. I’m one of the bakers here. Not that it means much in the way of baking, real baking. Production line stuff, that’s all”

I offered him my free hand.

“I’m Debbie. I---”

“---drive lorries! I spotted that bit. Anyway, I’ll have to shoot off. Got to sort out the next batch of loaves. No fishes, just ready-made lumps of dough to stick in the oven and rack in the store. If you’re here, and I’m on, I’ll do you a cuppa. Save you from getting too bored, I hope!”

It took him three weeks to work up to asking me out.

CHAPTER 5
Work was a new beginning for a time, as the three weeks or so of local slog kept me occupied, while the longer runs down West gave my mind the space and solitude to put things into a more sensible order than they had fallen into after the funeral. I played my music, I drove my wagon and I planned my days off, whether weekend or midweek.

The new house was also settling into its own personality, as my belongings established their own places and I spotted, one-by-one, the little niggle that would need sorting, such as a cupboard that tended to creep open each time I opened the back door. In short, I was finding my own space, as well as my own life, and the need to be forever slapping my brain into inebriation and numbness seemed to have passed.

Rosie called me out every so often, to make sure I was getting to grips with the little Honda, but that was so obviously an excuse for the demands of friendship, of love, that even a thick-skinned young curmudgeon like me could spot it.

I found time to test-drive the new bird book down by the Bay, to examine all my old camping kit for the warmer days yet to come, and to linger in record shops, eager for new sounds, either from people I already knew or from the occasional bright spark that surfaced from the relentless flood of shit that was pop and disco.

The latter had been roundly spanked by punk, but it fought back, reappearing in a number of different guises that all managed to maintain the same level of being utterly shit. Some of the punk was OK, though, and I did end up with the Stranglers record Marlene had quoted.

Frank was a persistent sod all that time, and I noticed that he was altering his game depending on time of day. If I was on an early turn, he would have a mug of coffee for me, ‘to wake me up’. A couple of times, he tried a hot chocolate, which was nice, but too heavy for a working day, so he switched back to tea. I did get to look forward to his grin, though. He may have been a straight, and therefore officially someone I should have been looking to Outrage and Disgust, but he wasn’t a bad-looking one, and…

The first time I thought that, it stopped my thought processes completely for a few minutes. All sorts of images piled up in my head, like some motorway smash in fog where cars, or rather their idiot drivers, just keep tearing in at speed to add to the mess.

There was Dad and his belt, closely followed by Charlie fucking Cooper and that smelly bastard Don, and of course the simple fact of my existence, brought home to me each time I lay on a heap of towels pushing a slippery piece of plastic into my crotch. Most of all, there were the memories of one night of love and failure, one small, bright segment of my life that I could never hope to recapture.

Fuck you all the way to hell, Cooper.

I did my best to let those nuggets of shit go while at work, and the rest of the drivers helped immensely, as did Bert Fratelli himself. He was a great example of someone who had a clear vision of the culture he wanted on his turf, and equally clear ideas as to how to deliver such a work environment. Mr Mossman had clearly known his own stuff. Mostly, though, it was Frank who made me smile. What on Earth was he after, apart from a shag, of course? I mean, that was something I was by then equipped to deliver, but anything beyond that was not an option. At least I was now over 21, I thought one evening, remembering Knight’s warning while, rather appropriately, mid-dilation, and I found myself frozen in place. I knew what a cock was, as I had felt two of them so regularly.

I also knew what I had been feeling when… Carl. Carl had been different, and his erection had been something I had wanted so, so badly, but Charlie’s had been there, and don’s, and I really didn’t know if I could ever bring myself to do anything further with that part of me than I was already doing with Mr Hemmings’ little post-surgical present. I lay still for a while, as my skin chilled, trying to get my head and its car-crash contents cleared, and then decided to do something I had read about but never, ever done.

Into the bathroom and a quick shower of myself and my plastic friend, to get rid of the mess, then everything dried and cleaned properly, boxed away, an outsize T-shirt and dressing gown on, and into the kitchen for a mug of hot chocolate to sit cooling beside me as I myself sat with a pen and a piece of paper. Draw a line down the middle; label the two sides ‘for’ and ‘against’. I gave myself one last instruction: be honest, girl, at least this time.

I carried the paper wrapped up in my work bag for a few weeks, adding to and subtracting from the columns as my mood dictated, and then, after another week of Swansea and Haverford West runs, I was back on the fridges, and Frank was waiting for me, smile in place.

“Hiya, Debbie! Can I ask a question? Apart from ‘tea or coffee’, of course”

“Depends on what it is, mate. Ask away, and see how I react, cause a smack in the mouth only hurts for a short while”

He laughed, shaking his head and muttering something in what I realised must be Welsh.

“Na, simple one, isn’t it? You are here day in, day out for a couple of weeks, then it’s one or two weeks you’re never coming in. Holidays or part-time?”

“Do I look like I’m always on holiday? Just work patterns, aye? We deliver some long-distance stuff, right out into Pembrokeshire sometimes. Bit more relaxing than this sort of thing, so the boss rotates the jobs, keeps us relaxed, keeps things fair”

“You not get bored on the long runs?”

I lifted up my little camera bag, showing him my selection of cassettes.

“Music is the answer to that one! Handy things, these”

“Oh. What are you into?”

“Would it surprise you if I said I’m a biker?”

He chuckled.

“It would surprise me if you said you weren’t. Anyway, a couple of the other drivers say that you ride a bike”

“Why would they say something like that?”

“Um, I sort of asked a couple when you were next on, and they said ‘What, Debbie the biker girl?’, so, well. Anyway, what are you into, music-wise?”

“Music? Well, proper rock, rhythm and blues, bit of prog, usual stuff. Proper blues, aye, not that Eric Clapton shit”

“Chester Burnett and McKinley Morganfield, that sort of thing?”

“Who?”

“Howling Wolf and Muddy Waters, girl!”

I found myself laughing properly, happily, and for the first time in ages I could speak about Mam without a catch hitting my voice.

“Fuck, yeah! Sorry. Mam always played those two, and always said they had real names she could never remember. Smokestack Lightning was the first one I ever heard from the Wolf. Thought he was going to break the cassette player when he started singing”

My mouth ran on automatically.

“Mam and Dad were into folk music as well, and a lot of the folk-rock thing. Steeleye, Fairport, that sort of thing”

“Sandy Denny?2

“Fuck, yeah! Wonderful voice. Dad loved Maddy, though, Maddy Prior, and…”

No. That song was for Mam and Dad, and always would be.

“And I listened to the Kinks when I was a little girl, so it’s Kinks and Stones, Zep and Sabbath, Floyd and Hawkwind”

I prayed he had missed the little hiccup I had felt as I said ‘little girl’, and he just smiled.

“Quite a mix there. I’m a bit softer in my tastes, isn’t it? More folk, things like Pentangle, Bert Jansch, Martin Carthy”

I nodded in recognition.

“Mam played me Pentangle. I like the rockier stuff to dance to, though”

“Yeah. Carthy’s not really a dancing master. Suppose it splits for me. If I’m just listening, I want music and lyrics, instruments played well and words that make sense, that I can settle back into, yeah? Not done any dancing for a while, but yup, R&B works for me. Can’t stand the chart shit”

He started to laugh, so I raised my eyebrows in that way, and he shook his head.

“A cartoon, girl. Someone saying that those shit electronic drum things, all ‘pyoom, pyoom, pyoom’, must give you piles cause all the floppy-haired tossers who play them are standing up”

That one was so spot on target it set me laughing properly, and he simply grinned, taking back my empty mug.

“Your wagon’s ready to go back, Debbie. You off next weekend?”

I was. I could see where he was going, as well, and I wasn’t wrong.

“Folk singer I like is on in town. I can get tickets, if you’d like”

My three seconds of argument with myself felt like three years, but sod it.

“Yeah, why not? Go on, then”

CHAPTER 6
Ruth picked up on my confusion before my workmates, which didn’t really surprise me, as I was steadily realising how sharp she was. I was having a break from household drudgery (or feeling too lazy to cook for myself) and digging into one of her beef stews when she took a seat across from me, after checking the door.

“Cough, Debbie! What’s got you all twitchy this evening?”

“You a bloody mind-reader, Ruth?”

She laughed.

“Get a bit that way, when you have regular customers. At least mine stay sober, unlike him down the road there. Isn’t it? Anyway: work or love life?”

I found a smile breaking out, and shook my head at her, almost in admiration.

“You are good, woman! The, um, the second, I suppose”

“Anyone I know?”

“Don’t think so, not really”

“Bloke or girl?”

My fork stopped halfway to my mouth, a chunk of beef dropping back into the rest of the stew. Both her hands came up, as if to ward off a threat. It was an almost exact replay of Harry’s reaction.

“No, love! Not meaning anything, am I? Just, I know you’ve been going down the Smugglers and that, so I didn’t want to make assumptions!”

I wound in whatever expression I had been showing her, just as I had with Harry, and set down my cutlery.

“No offence taken, Ruth. I’m straight, aye? Which leads on… Look, got some old friends of Dad’s, Mam’s, they’re a gay couple, men. They’ll be down for a visit in a little while, so I was asking Harry for a safe place to take them, somewhere they could relax. That’s the reason I was down that place”

“Ah!. I did wonder. Anyway, who’s the bloke? Your one, that is?”

“Not my bloke, Ruth. Just someone who asked me out on Saturday. Works at one of my regular drops”

Her grin was far cheekier that time.

“Let me guess, then: what do you wear?”

That one set me laughing properly.

“Spot on! I mean, he sees me in working rig, company overalls, safety boots. Then there’s this, what I’m wearing now, yeah? Leather and jeans. Not got much else. I don’t really do girly”

“You not get all done up for one of those rock do, bike meeting things you go to?”

“Spiky boots and short skirt? I used to, but… but that was me and Mam together, and it was for us, aye? Not for the lads, just for us to feel good, shake our stuff. Don’t think it’s quite right for a concert. Might send him the wrong signals, anyway”

“What signals do you want to send, Deb?”

“I have no bloody idea, have I? Bit new to all this, isn’t it?”

She gave me a long and piercing look, followed by a gentler smile.

“I think we have a lot to talk about at some time, Debbie. Not now, OK? Here’s my suggestion: go as you are. I mean, clean T-shirt jeans, knickers”

“KNICKERS?”

She adopted a look of wide-eyed innocence.

“You might get lucky—er, I mean ‘unlucky’, and get hit by a bus, and my Mam always said to me, Ruth, you wear a clean pair of knickers, just in case you get knocked down and then you won’t embarrass me in the hospital and…”

We were both laughing too hard by then for her to continue. She took some deep breaths to steady her voice, then gave me yet another gentle smile.

“If the lad’s asked you out when you’re wearing a set of overalls, it sounds like he’s asked the woman rather than the tits or the arse, so he’ll probably be happy seeing that woman as she really is. If he’s worth anything, you’ll find that out, and you can dress up if you want to afterwards. Just be yourself, love, and you’ll be fine. Want me to warm that stew up again for you?”

I realised she was right, and I found myself tempted to blurt everything out, there and then, but I was there for a fresh start, and I didn’t need to find myself hitting hurdles too early.

Jeans and T-shirt, then. Clean ones. And a ski jacket for warmth.

I was settling down with the bird book a couple of hours later when my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hiya, Debbie!”

“Rosie! What’s up?”

“Can’t I ring you just for a chat?”

“Not at this time of the night, woman! What’s up?”

She chuckled.

“You know me too well. I’ll get to the point, then. This Frank”

“What the fuck?”

“You’ve been asked out. Baker for Tesco, isn’t it? Anyway, don’t ask. Just wanted to let you know there’s nothing nasty we know about him”

The silence stretched for more than a few seconds before she spoke again.

“We have your back, love, like I know you have ours. You go and have a good night, and we’ll chat after”

Click, and she was gone. I sat holding the handset for a while, remembering so many moments with Mam and Dad. Horse delivering information out of the blue, other patches from other MCs doing the same, all seeming to know exactly who and what I was. I could have felt smothered; I could have felt paranoid.

What I did feel was the sense of a leather-clad wall standing between me and that bastard Cooper. I hung up, and started the process of laying out just the right T-shirt. In the end, I went one further than Ruth’s suggestion and observation, and laid out one of the lower-cut slogan vests together with a checked shirt to wear over it. If things went well, I would have the option of delivering a bit of cleavage. As Ruth had said, he had asked me out rather than my tits, but I still had a pair to…

BLOODY tears. I flung both tops at the wall, and settled down to grab what sleep I could.

Saturday evening came, and I was standing on the corner by Harry’s place when a Ford Escort driver tooted at me and pulled over to the kerb. Frank, of course. I smiled as he reached across to open the passenger door, and I slipped into the car and out of the drizzle that was steadily getting worse.

“Hiya, Debbie! First time I’ve seen you out of overalls!”

“I look all right for this gig?”

“Do you feel comfortable?”

“Well, yeah. This is basically what I always wear”

“Then it’s fine. Can’t be bothered with dressing up for no reason. Seatbelt on?”

“Yup”

“Then we’re off. Did I tell you who we’re seeing? Can’t remember if I did”

“No, you haven’t”

“Dafydd Iwan. Bit of a Plaid Cymru favourite, he is. Bit of politics, but he writes a damned good song. Floor spots to go with it, but I don’t know what they’ll be like”

He drove a little jerkily towards Llandaff, pulling up eventually outside some community centre or other, and the soppy sod even tried to jump out to open my door for me. I was already climbing out when he got round to my side of the car, which set us both laughing, and led me into the building. Tickets produced, and over to the bar.

“I’ll be on coke tonight, Debbie. With the car, yeah? What do you want yourself?”

“Ah, coke will do me”

“You don’t drink?”

“Oh, yes, but it wouldn’t be fair on you taking someone sozzled home”

Neither would it let me keep the control I wanted.

“Ok by me, woman. Now, couple of seats over by there?”

Ten minutes after we had seated ourselves, an elderly man walked out into the space before us, carrying a microphone on a long lead.

“Hiya, and welcome to tonight’s session of the club. Next week will be an open night, so if anyone wants to do a song, or play a tune, or do a silly dance, or even read some verse to us, that’s your chance. I know who you’re all here for tonight, though, so we’ll set things going with a few tunes from the club band, followed by the man himself”

He then spoke in Welsh, clearly repeating the same thing in that language, then waved at one side, where a group of six or seven people played the promised set of tunes, and doing it rather well. I found myself nodding along to it, foot tapping, and feeling warm memories of my parents for once. They would have loved the stuff.

Three women followed, singing something Welsh in close harmony, and then there was a buzz as a stocky man carrying a guitar walked out in front of the little set of speakers, plugging a lead into an acoustic guitar as he did so. He looked around the room with a grin, and then launched into an introduction, or a list of songs, or maybe his mother’s recipe for Cawl, it didn’t matter which.

It was all in bloody Welsh. I realised Frank was laughing at some of Iwan’s words, and then the star turn started strumming away, launching into his first song.

In bloody Welsh. In fact, the whole bloody act was in that language, and while I enjoyed his playing, and his voice, to be honest, I didn’t have a clue what he was on about. There was an interval, and I was in too much confusion to really make my point to Frank, before we had another couple of floor spots followed by a second dose of ‘What the hell is he singing about?’.

There were encores. There was laughter. I applauded with everyone else, because I had actually enjoyed the sounds, but it would have been nice to have had the sense as well.

Out to the parked car, Frank still chuckling at some incomprehensible joke or other, and I finally gave in and made the point.

“Frank?”

“Yes, Debbie?”

“You speak Welsh, don’t you?”

“Oh shit. I thought, I assumed, you’re a gog, isn’t it? I thought you all understood the language up there!”

“Frank, I come from Connah’s Quay. That’s only seven miles or so from the border. And I grew up in the English Midlands”

He looked devastated.

“I am so, so sorry, girl!”

“Ah, forget it. I liked the sound, anyway. Shall we grab some chips or something?”

He nodded, still shamefaced, and drove us back towards the city centre, where we managed to find a parking spot near the station, as well as a sit-down chippy, the smell of vinegar and hot fat evoking memories of Duncan’s old place. We settled ourselves at one of the tables, each with a plate of pie, chips and gravy, Frank adding some peas to his, a can of fizz apiece to take away some of the grease. I loosened my shirt as a sort of apology to him for his embarrassment, and smiled to myself as his gaze immediately dropped to a lower target.

I realised I was actually having fun, and he seemed to be enjoying the view as well as my company, so I grinned at him.

“What’s the next suggestion, butt? Anything in English?”

He muttered something in Welsh, so I gave him the ‘do tell’ eyebrows, and he grinned, which was when I suddenly understood how good-looking a man he really was, despite being a straight.

“I said you’ll have to learn Welsh, Debbie”

Chips gone, the drizzle outside slightly reduced, I stood outside with him for an instant before linking my arm into his and starting a low walk towards the river bank. Within about six paces, his arm slipped down and around my waist, and that was OK, and better than OK, and there were gulls still about over the Taff, their whiteness flashing in and out of view in the puddle of light from the lamps along the bank. Lesser black backed gulls, I thought, in my new-found expertise, and settled against him, then, as he mumbled something about drizzle, I looked up at him, and the next bit was obvious.

His lips were gentle, and he didn’t start shoving his tongue at me, no slobber, ant it was good, and it was right, until he stroked the back of my neck, and Charlie fucking Cooper broke the mood and sent everything crashing and burning.

Frank clearly felt my cringe, and to my relief he offered no apology, no stammering explanation as to why he might need to say sorry after pushing things too far, too quickly, and simply drove me home, where I set about the process of locking him out of my life, along with anyone else that could hurt me.

Fuck you all the way to hell and back, Cooper.

CHAPTER 7
I had no booze in the house for once, which was fortunate, as it would have left me in no state worth thinking about, and most definitely well away from the level of rationality I needed to find. I slept fitfully, the night lasting forever as I woke up over and over again, my car crash of a soul trying to find ways to put my life back together and failing dismally at the job.

I had been so lucky in my second parents, and in my friends, and I included Carl in that group despite our difficulties. After all, what had he done that was in any way wrong? That derailed my train of thought, because I found Carl’s face fuzzing into Frank’s, and that just made me feel far worse.

He was most definitely a nice man, and he seemed to like me, but two things slapped me in the face when I dared think about anything that might be called ‘a future’.

The first issue, of course, was a bastard called Cooper, but there was more, and that was all me, all my fault. What could I offer him? A shag was no longer out of the question, thanks to Mr Hemmings’ work, but that was a dead end What did Frank want from life? I didn’t know what that might be, but I did know that my own options weren’t those of other women.

Shit. I left that to fester, and stayed indoors for the whole of Sunday, my phone left off the hook until I woke the next morning and replaced it on my way out of the door on my way to work. It stayed off the hook every evening for a fortnight.

Thankfully, I was on the longer runs for the next set of shifts, and I managed to swap with one of the other drivers for the following week, so no chance of opening the wounds Frank had left me with, through absolutely no fault of his own. Two weekends after the debacle with Mr Iwan, I had both a long weekend, and an idea.

“Bert?”

“Yes, love?”

“Any chance of borrowing one of the Astra vans for next weekend? I fancy a trip away”

“I thought you’d be off on the bike”

“On a 125 single? I am not that daft, boss! I fancy some camping, up in the mountains”

“This time of year? Hang on, Debbie: did that bloke do anything stupid?”

Shitting hell.

“Bert, is there anyone here, anyone at all, who doesn’t know about bloody Frank?”

“I doubt it, love, considering he’s been asking every driver we’ve got when you’re next on a run to his place. You’ve made a big hit there”

He caught something in my face, and his voice dropped.

“Debbie, I don’t know what the hell the problem is, but you’re doing well in not letting it get in the way of your work. I’m not stupid, but I’m not going to push, is it? Talk to me some time, please, and don’t bend the van”

Once more, I found myself counting my blessings, even while wrestling with the steering as the van swayed in the crosswinds on the Severn bridge. Up through England, onto the A5 at last and down into the huge dip before Chirk, my subconscious recognising that I appeared to have lost my terror of that area, while smiling with warm memories as I saw the signs for Shrewsbury, scene of my rebirth. The smiles were slowly beginning to outweigh the tears.

It was raining in Betws, where I stopped at an outdoors shop to spend some money on a new stove and a much stronger tent (I had the money, now, so why the hell not?) plus a jacket and waterproof trousers. A brief visit to the supermarket for tea, milk, bacon, stew, all the things I thought I’d need, almost forgetting a lighter for the gas cooker. Along the road I remembered so well, even though it had been bathed in tarmac-melting sunshine that last time, and through Capel Curig and into a valley filled to roof level with black cloud. I could have been back at Beattock, the weather was so damp.

The sign was still there, suggesting that dog owners might find a better welcome in another county, and as I turned into the farm I could see at least six other tents crouched low to the ground, aligned to the same wind like boats at anchor in a current. I took their presence as permission to pitch, and was just beginning to puzzle out the new tent, a ‘semi-geodesic dome-tunnel hybrid’ according to the salesman, when Mr Williams came ambling over, wearing what looked like the same jacket he had sported in 1976.

He ran through prices and rules, then cocked his head.

“You been here before, ah?”

“Yeah, not for years, though. I was here with my parents, the drought year, aye?”

He smiled, his face lighting up.

“The traders, yes? Van and trailer, and you played with my Dylan. Um… Debbie?”

“The same. Good to be back”

“No parents this time?”

He obviously caught something in my face, because he reached out for my hand.

“Both, fychan?”

I nodded, and he held my hand for a few moments more before squeezing it.

“This is the place, aye? And the time. We only get the real people, this time of year, those who love this place properly. I thought you might turn out to be one of those, when we met, ah? You were so polite, and Dylan loved you. Too early for lambs, now, but there are other things”

He dropped my hand and strode over to a well-guyed orange ridge tent, giving it a little shake.

“Someone to see you, love!”

There was the sound of a zip coming down, then again, and there was a familiar face poking out of the tent.

“Pat?”

“Do I… Debbie? Hello!”

She disappeared just long enough to pull on her boots, and then she insisted on helping me set up my new tent. All through the process we were chatting, catching up, as my voice caught every so often. As ever, Pat just listened, asking only the most essential of questions, until I was done, and by then we were stretched out side by side in my tent, my new stove cooling as we sipped our tea.

“Deb?”

“Aye?”

“You’re here for a reason. Are you OK?”

To my shame, she got the whole bloody mess, as my locks failed and all of the shit I had been holding down erupted in tears and stammered words. Pat just waited until I had burnt out the grief, at least for a while, then started to speak, softly, slowly, a gentle smile on her lips.

“I’m not going to say the usual rubbish, Debbie love. About how it gets better, how you find your way, that sort of thing. For me, it’s more like an old break that’s healed. Does the job, then every so often the weather does something, and it hurts again. These things scab over, but the wounds remain. Sorry I’m not being more cheerful, but that’s just the way it is”

I rolled slightly so that I could see her face a little more easily.

“So how do you cope, Pat?”

She sighed, long and deeply.

“I don’t. some days. Sometimes, it just piles up, ambushes me when I’m at a low, tired, that sort of thing. What I do consciously, or try to, is make newer memories, nicer ones. Some paces, I can’t do that. Remember the little shelter on Foel Grach? I can’t change that lot, so I just try and remember the good times there, and not how someone decided it was a great place to use as a bloody toilet. Other places, I look to make those better memories. Sorry again, but I can offer you no quick fix. Anyway, tell me about other stuff. New house, new job?”

I thought for a few seconds, weighing her words, then tried my first little story, a nugget of happiness.

“So he’s shown me the different birds, and talked me through them, and it’s not like he’s trying to get into my knickers or perve or anything, so when he asks me what I’m doing in Cardiff, he only bloody laughs and calls me by name. He was the bloke I was looking for a job from! Said it was the strangest job interview he’d ever done”

“You still looking at the birds?”

“I am that. Got… got Mam’s old binoculars, and I bought a book, a bird guide thing, so yeah. Not going to see much in this, am I?”

“Fancy a drive tomorrow? I do a bit of birdwatching myself. Not much, but I know some good sites. They’re put on Anglesey, so we might get clear of this clag for a bit. You up for that?”

To my surprise, I realised I was smiling at the thought.

“Yeah, go on. Now, it’s teatime, I think. I was going to do some tinned stew on a pile of savoury rice”

“I’ve eaten already. Share breakfast?”

“Of course!”

“See you in the morning, then, and I’ll drive. I know the way. Bring a spare film or two, if you have a camera”

She slipped out of my tent, zipping up the outer door for me as she went, and I settled down into the little pile of quilts I wrapped around my sleeping bag. The wind had dropped, and all I could hear was the steady patter of raindrops on my tent. It was like being in a nest, safe and warm in my own little spaces, and before I knew it, a pale morning light was coming through the nylon walls.

I brewed a mug of tea while still in bed, realising that the rain seemed to have stopped, and once my drink was finished I was out of the tent and into the little cold-water toilet block. The clouds had lifted a long way, and I could almost see the top of the big ‘dinosaur’ mountain. Pat was stirring as I returned, and we settled ourselves on a camping chair for her and a convenient rock for me as our breakfast sizzled into completion.

“I got asked once, Debbie, more than once, in fact. Stupid questions are hard to kill. Anyway, this one is ‘Why do you keep taking pictures of the same mountain?’. So I explain, each and every time, that it’s never the same mountain twice, that it has a life of its own, one it takes from the light and the water, but they never get it”

I found myself smiling in understanding and parallel memory.

“One of those questions that if you ask it, you will never grok the answer?”

She frowned slightly at the word, then grinned again.

“Remember what I said last night? That was part of your father speaking just then. Shall we take your mother’s heritage for a day out, then?”

We went off along the A5, through the little town with the shops Dad had used for provisions so many years ago, then over the Britannia bridge to the island and then turning off near Valley for what called itself a ‘Four Mile Bridge’ and a gorgeous stretch of sand at Trearddur, finally parking up on a clifftop with a lighthouse beneath us on its own tiny island,

“Welcome to South Stack, Debbie. Not the best time of year for it, but we should still see a few nice birds. Gives you the excuse to come back again, now you know where it is”

We made our way down an endless set of stairs into what Pat said was called ‘Mousetrap’ something or other, and as she pointed out a few guillemots and other seabirds, as well as a couple of chough and a rock pipit, she also pointed out what she said were famous rock climbs.

No. Just no.

We took a quieter road back, stopping at a place called Malltraeth, where there were small ponds as well as a large sweep of tidal mud, and we worked through my guide species by species, finishing the day off at the lost village of Newburgh, or rather the dunes that had buried it, where I saw my first ever short-eared owl hunting over the grassy hummocks.

We walked all the way to the shoreline, where Pat pointed out and named every single peak that we could see, including the one that towered over our campsite.

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Tomorrow is a hill day!”

So it turned out, and I was in a far better mood when I returned the van to Bert’s yard after dropping off my kit, old and new. I had left the bike at work, so all I had to do was park up, hang the van keys back in their little metal box, and ride home.

Lid off, lock back on bike, and kettle filled and switched on. I unfastened my boots, wincing a little at the smell from my socks, and only then noticed the little light flashing on the answering machine. I rewound the tape and pressed ‘play’.

“Deb? Rosie. Don’t know where the fuck you’ve been, but you have to call me as soon as you get this. Please. Really urgent”

I could hear breaks in her voice.

As soon as the tape finished, I rang her number.

CHAPTER 8
“Debbie?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

She was in tears; I could hear it in her voice.

“It’s Sam, love. And Carl. I… I don’t want to do this over the phone. They’re both in hospital. Can you come up to the clubhouse?”

“You’ve got me really worried, Rosie. On my way”

Straight back into my boots, thinking that a change of socks could wait, jacket on, keys, lid, and out of the door kicking the little bike into life before trying not to ride too fast or too stupidly through the city. There was a prospect on the gate, as always, and he simply waved me straight through to the main building, where I found Rosie wrapped up in Oily’s arms.

“Debbie! Thank fuck!”

Carl’s brother simply passed her to me, as she broke down completely. Within a very few minutes, a couple of mugs appeared, hot chocolate from the smell, and as Rosie’s sobs slowed, I looked around the clubroom, seeing expressions that all appeared to be set and hard, and bloody angry.

“Talk to me, woman?”

“Sorry, Deb. Should be stronger”

“Fuck off, Rosie. All this lot know your class”

Her hand clenched tightly on the front of my T-shirt for a few seconds, then relaxed a little.

“Sam. He was out on business and he got grabbed by another club. They really worked him over, and he’s in St David’s. Carl’s in the Royal Infirmary, with coppers on bed watch”

Her voice failed her once more, and I felt another hand on my shoulder, Oily’s, squeezing it gently before pulling up another chair.

“You settle, Rosie. Debbie’s here, so I’ll talk her through what’s happened. That OK with you?”

I felt her nod, and the big man sighed.

“Grim Reapers, Deb. Sam was picking up rent from one of our studios, and they jumped him. Really worked him over, serious damage. The tattooist saw the start, and gave us a ring here. Carl took the call, and grabbed a couple of lads and went straight out. He’s been hurt as well, but that’s not the biggest piece of shit. He’s going to be OK”

I felt myself relaxing, not having noticed how much I had tensed at his words.

“What have they done to him?”

“Ah, tried to take his head off with a spade, then an axe. His nose is a mess, so’s his throat, or so I’ve been told. Coppers won’t let me in to see him, so I had to use the ‘real brother’ card to get the word from the doctors”

“Coppers?”

“Aye. Carl handed back the axe to one of the Reapers. He’s an ex-Reaper now”

His face twisted, and I caught just a murmur, but I was pretty sure that the gist of the comment was that the ex-Reaper would be joined in short order by the rest of them. Oily looked over towards the bar.

“Horse is going to have a club meeting in a little while, love. You can’t be here for that. You really don’t need to be, and trust me when I say you don’t want to be. There’s a van outside you can fit that little Honda into, and if you don’t mind, and I know the class you have, so I already know your answer. If you don’t mind taking Wildcat here, Rosie, home with you. Gandalf’s in no fit state, neither’s his missus, so take your sister and look after her. Please”

He stood up, face settling back into that hard look once more, and paused as he walked away.

“Oh, yeah. Just got back home, haven’t you? Want a bite to eat before you go?”

Pie and chips was delivered ten minutes later, Rosie only eating half of hers as the pressure grew from the eyes of the men who were steadily filling the big room. I stood up, pulling my sister to her feet.

“This suit you, love? Staying at mine?”

She gave me a very bleak smile.

“Could I find anyone better than you, Deb? Come on. Oily will let us know what’s what when he gets more news”

That took five days, as I filled my time with driving, and Rosie her own with trips to St David’s hospital on the bus, until I borrowed Bert’s van again so that she could use my Honda. The news was dreadful, and it was no surprise when Rosie simply moved into my bed with me, in the same way I had slept between Mam and Dad when I was first given a new and better life.

Sam was in a coma, with massive head injuries and a number of broken bones. Gandalf and Rosie’s own Mam, Linden, were almost permanent fixtures at the bedside. I suspected part of the reason I had Rosie was to allow the two parents some respite, but there was no way I begrudged them that, no way I felt that I was being used.

Two things I had learned from my own parents were the importance of family, and what obligation really meant. Rosie, Sam, all of them were my family, and always would be. I hadn’t fully realised how much I loved them all, right up to such a really shitty moment.

The news was slow to come out, but it did, as a drip feed. Our beloved Carling was under arrest, although in hospital, for the murder of some piece of shot or other.

An unlicensed drinking establishment run by a biker club was shown on the television news one evening as it, and the collection of bikes parked outside, all burned in a spectacular way.

I continued to drive for Bert, doing my best to avoid a certain Tesco store, and Rosie continued to fester in my house, and then Carl was taken from hospital to the Crown Court, where he pleaded guilty to manslaughter and got sent down for ten years in Long Lartin.

What a steaming pile of shit.

The only thing that kept me going, I believe, was Rosie. She needed me, and that grounded my life. I could cope, I would cope, because if I didn’t I would be failing my family.

Obligations.

I extended their range a couple of weeks later, by offering space to Gandalf and Linden in order to save them the long journey to and from St David’s, and once or twice I caught the older man smiling at me, almost with clear signs of pride. After all, hadn’t he helped shape my character?

Work, and family support. Pat had given me so much help in coming to terms with the loss of Mam and Dad, and I found that being able to give back a little of their gifts to my wider family was healing me. I was needed; I had a place in the world.

I couldn’t manage to keep off the run to Tesco forever, so I simply had to grit my teeth and drive the wagon there. I was surprised not to see the smile I had got rather fond of, and as the loaders scurried around my trailer I simply asked.

“Frank not on today?”

“No, love! Don’t work here no more, does he?”

“Oh?”

“Aye! Got his own shop now, off down to Maindy. Says he can do proper stuff now, not just reheating and that”

The man’s look changed a little, appraising me carefully for any reaction as he dropped his little bombshell, and clearly having some idea of how close we had been.

“Got engaged as well, isn’t it? Going to be wed in August. No point in looking him up now, girl. That ship’s sailed!”

It took me a while to get my feelings in any coherent order, and by ‘a while’ I mean weeks. Rosie was wonderful just then, and I suppose it must have been the same sort of thing I had found: dealing with your own crap is easier if you focus on being there for someone else’s. It didn’t end my pain, but it scabbed the wound over so that I could deal with life in a much more stable way. I looked up the shop once, taking a massive detour on the way home, and it looked just as Frank had described his dream to me.

The window display held small pastries to one side, a range of pies to the other, and through the glass, past a fair number of customers, I could see a wide range of bread, from little rolls to French sticks. The little board on the pavement advertised more stuff, including decorative icing for ‘occasions’, and I slipped away on my bike, not finding the courage to enter the shop.

Routine, then. Three house guests, steady work with the lorries, and repetitive messages from the hospital about Sam. No change, no change, no change, no fucking change. I went in with Rosie one weekend, and he was simply lying there, a mass of dressings all over his head, wired up to a collection of boxes and a drip, with a tube down his throat that went ‘ooh” in a steady rhythm, and I just wanted to kill someone.

My beloved brother lingered for sixteen more weeks before they finally decided to turn off the machines.

Farewell, to the sweetest man I ever knew.

CHAPTER 9
Rosie went home with her parents after the funeral, which was not a good day. More than Sam’s life seemed to have been sucked out of the world, so four of us clung to each other as things were said and hymns sung, as Linden had insisted on a Christian service for her child. I went in a dress and tights I had bought for the occasion, far from my normal style, and afterwards hung the stuff in the depths of my wardrobe with a little prayer that it would be as long a time as possible before I would need them again. I had had far more than enough of death.

Things did perk up a little just a month later, as I waited outside Cardiff Central for a particular train. I spotted Graham first, and noted with some unease the clear distance he was keeping from Malcolm. I remembered evenings near Druridge Bay, the two of them slumped comfortably, comfortingly, against each other, and then remembered Marlene’s warnings when I had told her the ‘boys’ would be down for the weekend. She had echoed Harry’s advice.

“Good mates, darling. No hand-holding outside, coming or going. Not unless they like getting a kicking. Safe place here, but there’s loads of sharks circling outside”

“Any of them try and come in?”

“Oh yes, and I leave it to the diesels to show them the way out. They’re far scarier than the boys!”

“Don’t they just wait outside afterwards? For someone to have a go at?”

“Marlene is far from being a stupid queen, Debbie. I have some cameras set up, with video recording. And one, repeat one, copper who I let in. Sort of open filth; they don’t like shit in the city, so he tries to keep us sweet, and if we have a real problem, a persistent one, we talk to him. Tiger Bay boy, he is, over there at the end of the bar in the main room talking to Carly”

I had stepped back far enough to look through the archway, and he was there, in plain clothes but still so obviously a copper. He had looked Indian, with a badly broken nose. Easy to remember, easy to avoid.

So once I had dropped off the suitcases, taking a taxi from the station, and let them settle their things into the bedroom I had assumed they would want to share, Malcolm putting a large package into my fridge, I took them up the road to the Olive.

“Hiya Ruth! These are the old mates I told you about. Graham; Malcolm. Boys, Ruth here does the best breakfasts for miles around, but no stotty, no pernackity”

Her brow furrowed, so I did exactly as I had intended, and settled back to allow Graham to explain what the two things were. That led onto a more extended discussion on cookery, followed by a dissection of Ruth’s menu before we tucked into some of her wonderful lamb stew, with her own version of colcannon, which included leeks as well as cabbage. Replete, a bus took us back into the City and the bustle of the Smugglers. I was watching the boys’ backs as we went along the street, my arm linked with Graham’s to make things look a little more heterosexual, but their smiles on entry were my excuse to disengage. The main bar held several groups of young men, all as skinny as feral cats, several wearing white vests that looked four sizes too big. In another corner was a group of women with crewcuts that I assumed were Marlene’s ‘diesels’, and through a doorway to the right as we entered, I could see disco lights to go with the crap disco music that a crowd of people were dancing to, in pairings that were as far from heterosexual as it was possible to get.

That was what brought the smiles from my friends, the sense of safety, of normality. I towed them to the bar. Marlene folding her arms under her ‘bosom’ as I approached.

“Fucking hell, what HAVE you dragged in, love? Got a fucking interpreter for these two poofs?”

Malcolm’s jaw just dropped, but Graham started laughing happily.

“Bugger a hell, pet, do they have a school for you lot? Classic!”

Marlene grinned, and came round the end of the bar to hug all three of us.

“Got a little table reserved for you three, just over here. It’s a disco tonight, nothing special, and the music will most definitely NOT be to the taste of this biker bitch, but feel free to go and shake whichever bits you want to. Drinkies?”

We sat, we laughed, we drank more than a little bit, and Malcolm and Graham relaxed enough to leave their jackets with me while they went to do their bits-shaking. It was the look on Malcolm’s face I was enjoying, as the atmosphere was so far from what would be available in rural Northumberland. As I waited, I got asked to dance by several girls, including one of the diesels, but I declined all the invitations on the very good basis that I was straight, and for the indisputable reason that the music being played was absolute and unmitigated shit.

It was a wonderful night, Marlene sorting us out a taxi home for safety, and the weekend continued to be superb. We had to rely on the bus system, but I showed them as much as I could of the city I was starting to love, including the birdwatching spot I visited so often now, where the Taff met the bay, on the Saturday morning, after a Ruth breakfast. Malcolm surprised me that day, and I realised that if we hadn’t gone there, he would have found some excuse, because the sneaky man had somehow obtained three tickets to a home match by Cardiff Rugby Club.

I am not greatly into the game, but both of the boys were, and I could put my own interests on hold for a couple of hours, as the team in the blue shirts lost to a team wearing red. I spent most of the game watching my friends, and realising why they had insisted I sit between them. The Arms Park wasn’t exactly a place for expressions of manly affection, and I was amused once we were home, and caught Malcolm looking at the clock on my mantelpiece.

“You pining, Mal?”

He shrugged, mouth twisting.

“It was last night, pet. I mean, there’s places in the Toon for us, but Newcastle’s so far it’s almost an expedition for a night out. Last night, well, it’s almost next door, in a way, so…”

“You were hoping for another night at Marlene’s?”

“If you don’t mind, Debbie. I mean, we’ve got Sunday to settle our hangovers, and we really want to see some of the coastline here, not just those muddy bits. It’s simply that last night we were able to relax properly, and that’s a rare thing for us”

So it was that Saturday evening saw us back in the Smugglers, where there was a drag act on, compered by Marlene him/herself, and while once again the music was not to my taste, I was impressed by her (I eventually settled on that pronoun) skill and smooth delivery of everything from dreadful jokes to remarkably vicious put-downs on audience members. I noticed each one of those she verbally slapped looking almost pleased at finding themself the target, and understood how big a part it was of the whole night’s entertainment.

Another taxi home, breakfast from my own kitchen the next morning, then buses to Penarth, which was disappointing (Graham: “Call that a beach?”), and it was starting to rain again, so we rode back into the City and had a wander around the outside of the castle. It was a slow day, one of contented relaxation after a couple of busy nights, and of course the package in the fridge turned out to be a beef joint that came from the next farm up from Graham’s. As Malcolm started peeling vegetables I hadn’t known I had, Graham popped out the front door.

We were four for our roast that evening, as my friend had simply walked into Ruth’s place, asked her when she closed that evening, and invited her for dinner.

That weekend set a pattern that we followed for years, with a visit from the boys every three or four months, some serious debauchery courtesy of Marlene, a meal shared with Ruth, either in my home or her flat above the café, and the steadiness of the work routine I was now wrapping around me like a comfort blanket. I made time to head up to the North, every so often, coordinating with Pat, who showed me puffins and peregrines, pipits and warblers, and as she pushed my hillwalking, I found my head for heights improving to the point where we were able to tackle the Horseshoe properly.

I won’t say ‘comfortably’, but I got around it with my eyes open and my bowels closed.

It was also a time when I saw Rosie recovering, and with the help of her and Oily, I passed my motorcycle test and moved on to a slightly bigger bike, another Honda single of 250cc.

It could have, should have been a lonely life, but the weekends were filled with so many things I had no time for brooding. If I wasn’t working, I would have a couple of guests, or be up in the Ogwen Valley, or at a rally dancing myself into exhaustion. In reality, it was a good life.

Five years went by like that, and then I had a phone call from Rosie, this time one in which I could hear her smile.

“Carl’s out today, Deb! Party at the clubhouse!”

CHAPTER 10
My little Honda made short work of the ride up to the club, a sleeping bag strapped across the rear seat and a change of clothing in the throwovers along with some toiletries for the morning.

Being where I was, the bags also held some waterproofs.

I still remembered the scene where a biker at some rally or other had spent ages pulling spark plugs and other bits of his wheezing and misfiring bike, right up to the point when one of his ‘friends’ had pointed out that stuffing waterproof and windproof nylon overtrousers under his saddle also put said waterproof and windproof nylon overtrousers over the engine’s air intake.

In through the gate past another prospect who recognised me and waved me in, and my year got so much better, so quickly, as I spotted two people I loved deeply, entwined at the bar.

The shock came when Carl, prodded by Rosie, turned to face me, and I saw what those bastards had done to him. It wasn’t until he spoke that I could tell exactly how much he had been hurt.

His nose was smashed right into his face, folded in, it seemed, a clear line across the middle where the spade had caught him, and that voice, the sound that had filled so many of my yearning dreams, was gone. He croaked now, and I almost snarled in angry reaction, but the eyes were still there, and that smile, so I screwed everything down except my joy at seeing him again. Class, girl.

“Carl”

“Debbie”

Sod class. I flung myself on him and Rosie together, and couldn’t really work out which one I kissed first, but it didn’t matter at all. Once I had calmed down a little, and could look them each in the eye, I felt another arm fall over my shoulders.

Oily, naturally, his grin as wide as mine felt.

“You eaten, love? My old lady’s got a plate made up for you, if you want. Just pie and peas for now, take the edge off. Got a barbie later, and a pig on the spit. Drink?”

I gave my order, and the night went on exactly as expected. Short skirt and boots, bloody good DJ playing my sort of sounds rather than the shit the Smugglers offered, greasy food and beer after beer, I was home, and so was Carl. I even got to dance with Horse, although ‘dance’ wasn’t exactly what he did. Move, at least, but did I give a shit? Nobody there to worry about, the bass and the snarl of the lead guitars taking me away from the world and all of its shit.

I was alive.

By one in the morning, I was starting to lose my steadiness, getting more and more pissed but still intent on dancing everyone else to death, when I realised two things.

The first was that the crowd had thinned out considerably a couple of hours earlier, and the second was that it was building up again. I found a seat to slump into and catch my breath as well as another mouthful of bear, and spotted Oily, who I hadn’t seen for a while, talking to Horse at the end of the bar. He nodded to one of the prospects, who was holding a canvas sack that was clearly full. As Horse squeezed Oily’s shoulder, the younger man handed him something. It looked like a cut-off, and as Horse took it, I saw part of what was obviously a top rocker, a few letters visible: ‘APERS’.

As drunk as I was, I could still work out what was going on, and after one more look at Carl’s face, smiling past the wreckage of his nose as Rosie danced with him, I decided I simply did not want to know. Sam was gone, thanks to those bastards, and Carl had lost five years of his life. Fuck them.

It was almost my last conscious thought, but the last one I can clearly remember was an urgent need to have some more of the roast pig, and then it was morning, and I was in a bunk, fully dressed apart from my boots, and covered with my sleeping bag as the rain lashed against the window nearby.

Milky cereal for breakfast, and certainly not a fry-up, with gallons of tea through the day, until it was early evening and I felt sober enough to ride home. Hugs from all, and I took a chance to whisper in Oily’s ear.

“I saw. No worries. Fuckers deserved whatever it was you didn’t do to them”

He whispered back, his beard tickling my cheek.

“I know your class, girl. I know how things went wrong, but you will always be my sister, whatever happens”

One last squeeze, and I was off home, where I watched the mews obsessively for the next two days before finally catching the item about the dead bodies found in a burnt-out unregistered panel van in a remote area of woodland.

No sympathy. All I worried about was whether there would be any comeback on people I loved. I think I lost a little of my sympathy for humanity just then.

The next few years were nowhere near as exciting, thankfully. Horse passed away, to my astonishment turning out to be 71 years old, and the obvious replacement was ‘Pig’, the name now adopted by Carl as a sort of joke about his new voice, and I continued driving for Bert. Ruth pushed me into one change, which was using my savings to pick up the house next door to mine when the elderly woman who lived there moved into an old people’s home, the proceeds from the sale clearly necessary to pay for her care. I rented it out to students as separate rooms; for some reason, they didn’t seem to leave any damage or mess, and Ruth laughingly explained that it was a simple matter of not wanting to upset the Evil Biker Bitch that was their landlady. Apparently, I was getting a reputation in the area, and not just with the other bikers.

In the North, I was one of the regular Real Walkers, and occasionally pointed to as someone to ask for route advice.

At Harry’s, I was the local lorry driver who liked a beer every now and again.

At Ruth’s, I was the quiet one who sat by a window and read, some mate of the owner.

At any number of Bert’s customers, I was the driver you did NOT want to piss off, and certainly not one who would react in any nice way at all to a grope.

At the Smugglers, I was the woman who was most definitely not a dyke, but still OK.

At any number of rallies, I was most definitely one of the real ones.

At home, though, I was just lonely as hell. It wasn’t helped by the simple fact that I was stuck in limbo, still legally a man despite everything I had gone through with Mam, Carol and Mr Hemmings, The Eighties were utterly shit, as Marlene explained to me far more often than once, with a concerted attack by the government on the rights of most of her customers. I bit my tongue during those conversations, because as far as I could see, I had no rights whatsoever.

No life, either, in many ways. I got up, I went to work. I had weekends away in the hills, or in fields with other bikers. I saw friends, from both near and far, and watched their lives as they settled into their lives as couples, and felt to horribly left out. The only thing that really kept me going was the simple fact that at least I had a life of sorts, when measured in terms of employment, money, enough to eat and a roof over my head. That bitch Thatcher had done so much damage to the country, and the Miner’s Strike was hardly more than icing on the cake. I saw the evidence every day, as people slept in cardboard boxes in doorways or derelict buildings, begging for whatever could be spared by those with their noses just that little bit higher above the encroaching flood.

I suppose that was what started me off on my new hobby. I had taken to using a Ford Transit I had bought for winter camping, fitting a little stove inside, and I made time when I could to park up in some of the places the rough sleepers gathered, and offer them a warm drink. I couldn’t do much more against such a tide of shit from an uncaring government, so I did what I could, and people said thank you, and appeared to mean it.

It shook me at times, for I had been one of those poor sods, eating from bins, sleeping wherever I could manage, and it had been someone in a van who had rescued me.

The news continued to be shit, as a model was outed as being like me, and I could see all too clearly how the way she was treated would so easily be my own fate, so I kept my head down as best I could. I had my work, I had my weekends, and when the memories and the depression got too severe, I took my van and spent a couple of hours counting the blessings others lacked, and reminding myself of how lucky I really was.

Those, then, were the eighties. Shitty times, with even shittier music. Things changed sharply in the early nineties, when I picked up an abandoned copy of the Western Mail left at the next table in Marlene’s place to see the first of two stories that really upended my world.

The first was of the sort I had become heartily sick of, where some poor transsexual woman, like myself, was outed to the world for fun and sport. She was a chemist in Swansea, and the paper danced along the edge of claiming that the serious beating she had received was her own fault. I showed the article to Marlene, and she just nodded.

“That’s why I left it next to you, love. Got a few minutes for a chat?”

I nodded, and she sat down opposite me after grabbing a couple of mugs of tea and checking the other occupied tables and the next bar were OK.

“Check the date, love. Paper’s a week old. One of the other girls brought it in, and I thought you needed to see it. Hoped it might perk you up”

“Are you joking?”

“Everyone can see how stale you’re getting, girl. There’s more to the story, if you want”

“In what way?”

She rose and reached under the bar, returning with another copy of the paper.

“Page eight, Debbie”

The story was a lot shorter, simply detailing how a local chemist called Joseph Evans had been the victim of assault occasioning grievous bodily harm after answering his own front door. In Swansea.

“Darling, Marlene isn’t thick, and she doesn’t think it’s a conspiracy to attack pill-pushers in Abertawe. There are rumours about, and one of those rumours is that there are fucking coppers behind that first story getting into the paper. That girl, that Sarah Powell, she’s a tranny. Not like me, that is: one like you. Just another girl a bit fucked-up in the knicker area when she was born”

“You aren’t…”

“No, love. I am rather fond of my little meat and two veg, and so are my men. That one, she’s one of yours, and I am wondering why two of the Filth have their sticky fingerprints all over it. No, love. There’s more. A little twink tells me that there were leather boys involved in Mister Evans and his accident, and I don’t mean bears, I mean bikers”

She picked up the empty mugs and turned to go back to the bar.

“And Debbie?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you see your friends, tell them that Marlene says thanks”

CHAPTER 11
I made sure I followed the paper in question for a few weeks afterwards, which amused Ruth when she caught me reading it one day as I got outside a coffee and a ham and cheese toastie.

“Not exactly your sort of rag, girl!”

“Ah, a running story I’m looking for an update on”

“Would that be the one about the little shit who got a kicking from people you definitely didn’t know?”

I could feel my face heat up, and as was her habit, she took a quick look around before sitting down opposite me.

“I know who you run with, Debbie, and I know what they can be like. I know at least one of them was banged away for years, and no, I am not going to make any guesses about how several others of that kind all seemed to die on the same day. End of, as far as I am concerned there”

“Then what’s your interest? Sorry. That sounds rude; not meant that way, OK? Just curious why you seem to be reading the same stuff I am”

She shrugged, gave a jaunty smile and a bright “Local interest!” before slumping and giving a long sigh.

“It’s the little bastard who got the kicking, Deb. Rather, it’s his family. They’re big in the City, in the Council. Main man’s an absolute pig called Ashley Evans. He’s a builder, and somehow seems to get a load of contracts, all of them by, er, fair and open competition. If something nasty’s happened to young Joe, then there’ll be interest in it from all sorts of people. I am sure the people you definitely don’t know are well aware of who the Evans clan are and I really doubt they’re worried about them”

“So?”

“It’s you, Debbie. Evans is a loud-mouthed pig, but he’s also a coward. He’s a bully, and his sort are always cowards. If he works out who smacked his boy around, he’ll be looking for an easy target. If anyone spots you being too interested in Joe’s accident, they’ll see who you mix with, and Ashley Evans will find out in double-quick time. Watch your back, as well as your mouth”

She grinned.

“And I KNOW that you understand how I meant that last bit! Refill?”

Ruth’s words set me thinking, and not in a nice way, as they swam so close to my experiences in Cheshire, where that big bastard of a Sergeant had literally had his feet under the table in Mersey View. There were coppers involved in this case as well, and one thing I didn’t need was their attention turning towards me. Life was OK, if a little empty at times, but I had my rallies and weekends in the hills to keep me alive rather than just existing. I made sure from then on that I kept my interest in the Powell/Evans story as close to my chest as possible, and Ruth’s advice turned out to be spot on.

Two coppers lost their jobs, and while it was ostensibly for driving while pissed, it was followed not that long afterwards by a settlement out of court “in an undisclosed sum” to Sarah Powell.

Two coppers, both stopped and breathalysed on the same night. One of them called Evans.

I ran the story past Marlene one evening, and she sat and stared at me for about thirty seconds without speaking, before simply saying that it was a place I didn’t want to explore any further.

“When I say that, woman, I don’t mean that you don’t feel some spark of curiosity. I mean that it would not be good for your health. That family has fingers in all sorts of shit pasties, so don’t poke anything in or it might get sliced off, and I don’t mean what you already have had snipped”

With that last cutting remark, she was off back to the bar, and in the end, I was left with nothing more in relation to the case. No news, no more reports, no sudden press revelations about the men responsible for Joe Evans’ beating.

Nothing.

My attention was diverted, in the end, by other matters, much closer to home. I had settled into an odd division in my life, where those days of rallying and wildness bookended weeks of work where I came home each evening and simply locked the front door until the next morning. Apart from a meal at Ruth’s, a night-time drive to do something for the homeless, or a quiet drink with Marlene, life was solo until the moment I left the house with my tent on the back of the bike, now a 550cc Suzuki, or a sleeping bag in the back of the van. That was when I started to smile, feel the tension easing in my shoulders despite the drive or ride that lay ahead of me.

What caught my attention was the increasing noise coming from a small but persistent group of people, other transsexuals, as I called them. Other people like me.

Their demands were simple and obvious, being limited to the simple fact of being recognised as who they said they were, but the government kept coming up with loads of shitty reasons why that could never happen, how it would destroy society, corrupt all the children, maybe even cause ten Biblical plagues; I forget all the shit reasons they gave, and I just kept my head down, my nose clean and lived for those days of release.

The other thing I did was count my blessings, as each time I came home after dark, there were figures in doorways, and the odd cup of tea I distributed did little visible apart from the smiles of welcome, of recognition, mixed with all too many looks of utter despair.

I fitted an urn into the van one day, just to be able to make as many cups as I could, and it was emptied so quickly I frequently ran out. Shitty weather did that, as well as the shitty times we lived in. Things changed one night, as sleet splashed down around me and a small group of figures wrapped in bin liners sat on the step of the rear door or huddled under sheets of cardboard, both hands wrapped round the cheap plastic mugs I was using. I had a couple of regulars there, one I knew only as Sparky, and he was clearly worried.

“What’s up, mate?”

“All sorts of shit, Deb, all kinds of crap, but it’s a little better with something hot. You know I’m grateful, we all are, so no gushing. You probably save a couple of lives a month, girl, and that’s the point. Girl over there, in the alley behind the bookies”

“Eh?”

“Don’t think she’s got anything left, Deb. Tried to wake her up when you came around, but she just told me to fuck off. Worried about her, I am”

“Show me”

“Er, thing is, not sure she’s really a girl, if you see what I mean. And not that old”

“Show me, mate. Please”

He uncurled from his seat on the van’s sill and led the way to a dark alley, unlit apart from the flicker of a TV behind a curtained upstairs window. There was a pile of sodden cardboard boxes partly covered by a sheet of old pallet-wrapping plastic, and I could just spot a mass of dirty hair at one end. Sparky reached down to shake the girl.

“Kim?”

“Fuck off”

The voice was weak, and even in the dim light I could see the sparkle of drops of water falling from the tangled hair. Sparky was insistent.

“Debbie’s here, Kim. Woman I told you about. Got a hot drink going, if you want”

A fit of coughing was the only response, and I had a flashback to that horsebox, the rubbish bins.

“Sparky, give me a hand. Get her to the van, aye?”

“Fuck your fucking van, nonce!”

Life still there, then.

“Sorry, girl, but I don’t think a cuppa will be enough. You coming or being carried?”

“Fuck off”

I nodded to Sparky, and he called over another couple of men, and as they peeled off the layers of soaking paste that had been sheets of cardboard, the two of us hauled her to her feet and almost dragged her to my van, where I laid her out on the floor, her skin so hot it seemed to burn my hands. All through the process, I was being told where I could go, and I quickly realised there was only one place available.

She, or perhaps he, was filthy, but I had a quick internal debate, which I won on the basis of owning a washing machine, and pulled out a sleeping bag I kept under the front seats, wrapping her in it.

“Sparky?”

“Aye?”

“You know where I live?”

“Yeah. That a problem?”

“No. You don’t worry me, mate!”

He barked out a laugh.

“Your mates fucking worry me, Deb! Why’d you ask?”

“I’m taking her there. Get her warmed up. Just in case anybody comes looking for her, butt. She’s a bit young; might have family after her”

He nodded in swift understanding.

“Where’s your GP? Might be willing to do a call-out, state she’s in. Breathing sounds clear, so don’t think it’s pneumonia, at least not yet”

I stared hard at him, and he shrugged, looking away.

“Basic battlefield medicine, Debbie. All you need to know, isn’t it? I’ll pass the word if someone comes looking, but to you first. Let Kimberley decide if she wants to talk to anyone”

He looked at the mug, wistfully.

“Well, no more tonight. Want me to collect them up?”

“No, mate. I’ve got enough hot for another round. You gather them up and keep them safe for my next run, OK?”

“You are a fucking saint, girl”

“No, butt. Just someone who’s been there. See you once she’s sorted, right?”

Things went almost exactly as they had done for me, but I didn’t end up in the shower with her, and despite Sparky’s suggestion, I left the doctor well alone, as I couldn’t be sure she needed to be found, never mind wanted. A quick call to Rosie brought a back-door knock from two patches, one of whom was a nurse, and from god knows where he had turned up with a stock of antibiotics. He made a quick examination, wrote out guidance for how many and for how long, stared hard at both of us, and then they all cleared off.

I understood the stare, because I was absolutely sure the club members knew all about my history, and as for ‘Kim’…

I had got her out of the van, and somehow upstairs, where I set the bath running and started to undress her. She looked about sixteen, and it was quickly clear that ‘she’ was preferred as a pronoun rather than real. She almost fought me until I managed to make it clear that I didn’t want to see her naked, just make sure that she was out of soaking wet clothing. I gave her my brightest smile along with a fizzy bath bomb, and went to leave.

“Take as long as you like, girl. I’m going to put some soup on to heat, and I’ll leave you some dry clothes outside the door. Just warm up a bit, get some food inside you, and then make your mind up what you want to do. I’m just here to help. Nothing weird, nothing nasty. I’ll leave the back door unlocked if that’s what you decide”

I found some old pyjamas in the airing cupboard, along with a spare dressing gown and some slippers I had nearly worn out, and set myself the job of separating the rags she was in for washing, which was a task I quickly abandoned due to their utterly shitty state of repair. I piled them by the back door; her choice, in the end.

I turned the heating up, and pulled a clean sleeping bag out, leaving it ready on the settee. The girl, boy, was down in an hour, but almost terminally; I heard the bath draining, and I only just managed to catch her as she half-fell down the stairs.

She hardly reacted when the bikers arrived, but when they had left she asked quietly if there was any more soup left.

“Yes, girl. Want a hot drink as well? I’ve got some cocoa; always does the job for me”

She nodded her thanks, and I rose to go to the kitchen just as she spoke, her voice weak and croaky.

“You say that so easily after seeing me in the bathroom”

“Say what?”

“Girl. You know that isn’t what I am”

My tears were fighting to escape, as so much of my life sat on my settee wrapped in a sleeping bag, so I simply said “I think it is”, and hurried out of the door to make the hot chocolate, and leave her to choose her path.

CHAPTER 12
When I returned to the living room, she was still there, wrapped up tightly in the sleeping bag, a light sheen of sweat on her face. I handed her the hot chocolate I had prepared, along with the first of the antibiotics, and watched her face light up at the aroma rising from the mug.

Her voice was clear, as Sparky had observed, but still weak.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Later, girl”

Another twitch at that word. I pressed on.

“Go through that bit later, love. Sparky called you Kim?”

Her head went down, hair falling across her face so that I could only see the slight gleam of her eyes.

“Kimberley…”

“Nice name. I’m Debbie. I drive wagons for a local firm, big ones. Not exactly your typical woman, me”

She took the bait, as I had hoped.

“Neither am I…”

Unfortunately, she lost it just then, tears pouring down her face to soak the pyjama top, and without conscious thought I found myself on the settee beside her, wrapping her in my arms just as Mam had done so often with me. I waited until she was cried out, then simply whispered “Safe here, girl”, before moving back to my armchair and my own cooling chocolate. She calmed her breathing, which was still shallow and weaker than I liked, and then started again.

“You say a safe place, Debbie?”

“Yup. I said it to Sparky as well. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t need to know anything you don’t want to tell me, but I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t somebody after you. If you have somebody you’d like to call, I have a phone. Your choice, your call, if you pardon the pun”

“Why?”

“Like I said, if you remember. Been there, seen that, got the T-shirt and the scars”

Her head lifted again as she stared at me, obviously looking for the scars in question, and I smiled back at her.

“Not when I’m dressed, love. And some scars aren’t physical, are they?”

“I’ve got scars. Dad’s belt, mostly”

Another razor cut from my early life.

“I know that scene too well, Kim, I met some people who were much worse, though. I’m still here only because I met some others who were much nicer”

She shivered.

“Not that kid’s home in the North?”

I shook my head, and found myself staring into my mug as unwanted memories filled my mind.

“No, not any of those. Mine was in England. The people I met went on to somewhere even worse, though, in Carlisle”

“Fucking hell…”

“It was exactly that, or so I’m told. Cards on the table time, then. I got out, I ended up eating from rubbish bins for a while, scraping ciggy ash off leftovers. It wasn’t nice; enough said. I was bloody lucky, amazingly so, and met two people who adopted me. There were others who were looking for me, that I really didn’t want to find me, so if it’s the same set-up for you, don’t fret. The only people who know you are here are Sparky and those who brought your medicine, and that’s all. I’m not going to tell anybody unless you ask me to”

“Why me?”

“Because you needed me, girl. That’s all. Call it paying my Mam and Dad back”

“Where are they living?”

That was one question too many, and my own control went. Kimberley just lay on the settee till I had finished my own crying, and then changed the subject.

“My cards on the table, then. My turn. You’ve seen me undressed”

“Yes”

“You know I’m a pervert, then”

“Pervert? I think you might be a transsexual girl. That’s not a pervert, not in my book”

“Not a pervert, when I’m pretending to be a girl?”

“I don’t think you’re pretending. Are you actually pretending?”

Once more, her head dropped.

“No. People tell me I am, though, and Mam and Dad, and my brother, they say I am, and when they caught me in Mam’s dress…”

“Where are you from, Kim? Remember: only tell me what you feel you can. This isn’t the Spanish Inquisition”

She almost laughed then, starting the usual phrase about ‘nobody expecting’, then caught herself.

“I’m from Ponty. Not many places to hide round there, so I came down here. About a month ago. Wasn’t quite as wet”

Suddenly, her reticence broke.

“I know you won’t understand, Debbie, but I am a girl, just all wrong where it matters. Still a girl, though, in my head. There was a girl on the telly, kid’s comedy show with a couple of black boys, and she was called Kimberly, without an ‘e’, but I thought that looked silly, though I liked how the name sounded, and…”

A short pause for breath, her lungs clearly still struggling.

“I don’t know if Mam and Dad called out the police. I can’t go back. Like I said, you won’t get it, but if they make me live as a boy, well, I just can’t”

I thought for a few seconds, then let out my breath in a long sigh.

“Trust me, Kim: I understand exactly what you mean”

“How could you, unless… Oh fuck”

“Used to be called Billy, didn’t I? Long time ago, different place, different world. I understand exactly. Leave it there. Now, it is getting late, and I have work tomorrow. Here’s the deal, OK? There’s a spare bed you can have, I’ll show you which one, and there is no lock on the door. I won’t lock the back door, as I said earlier. I’m going to take a risk here, and the rest is up to you. Get a night’s sleep in the warm and dry, and then clear off, or stay here until I get back from work. There’s food in the fridge and the freezer, tea, cocoa, all that stuff. I get back about half past five, cause I’m on local jobs this week. If you decide to skip out, your clothes are hanging on a rack in the kitchen. Just wash any dishes, OK? The pills are on the table over there, with a note on how many to take and when”

I drew another long breath.

“If you stay, a pot of tea would be nice to come home to. I keep saying this, but everything is your choice. You leave only when you want to. Now, bedtime for me. If you don’t mind, I’ll help you up the stairs to your room, and show you how the shower works. I can’t offer you a spare toothbrush, but there are clean towels in the airing cupboard”

In the end, I slept fitfully, terrified I had made a huge mistake, but as I crept past her room on my way down to a quick breakfast, I heard her wheezy breathing coming from the spare bedroom, the rhythm one of deep slumber. Tea, toast and work, running loads to local supermarkets while wondering how much my generosity might cost me, how many of my possessions might already have walked out of my back door with Kimberley. I had to wind my neck in several times as I rode home, worried as I was. Bike parked, chain around saddle and rear wheel, D-lock through the forks, and my gloves stuffed into my lid as I opened the back door, to encounter the smell of chocolate and a very, very nervous new girl,

“Debbie…”

“That choccy for me?”

“I broke a mug…”

“Not important, girl. Answer the question! Bloody cold out there!”

She pushed the mug of delights over to me, nodding, and I sipped it slowly, blowing over the top to cool each mouthful.

“How’d you break the mug, Kim? Dizziness?”

She nodded, and I took her arm to lead her to the settee, where I saw the sleeping bag was still in place.

“Sit down. No messing around till you’re feeling better, OK? What did you do with the day?”

She looked embarrassed.

“Got a bit nosy, Deb. Slept till twelve, then stood in the shower. Made some cheese on toast and then, well”

She indicated my stereo, our old and faithful family system, with the newer attachment of a CD player.

“You’ve got a real mix of stuff there, so I put the headphones on, and it was hours ago, and… Sorry if I was wrong, but I had a look at the photo albums. Some places I recognised. Sorry if it was private stuff”

This was the child I had spent all day feeling terrified would strip my house bare?

“Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m off work tomorrow. Fancy a slobby evening tonight? Put some sounds on, and I’ll talk you through the photos. Some good memories there. Do you eat Chinese food?”

“Never had it. Mam and Dad don’t like foreign muck, they say”

“Then we finish our cocoa and I take a walk up the road. My treat”

Her face crumpled once more, and I immediately understood.

“Kim, girl, not a problem. Some day, you will be in my position. You pass it on, OK?”

There was a hammering at the back door, and the terror on her face was heartbreaking. I held a finger to my lips and left her under the sleeping bag, closing the living room door as I went into the kitchen. I moved a cook’s knife from the wooden block that held my little collection, and put it down on the shelf to the left of my back door. Chain on, door cracked, hand ready to seize the blade.

“Hiya, Rosie! You OK?”

I quickly unfastened the door, and as she stamped in, wearing full winter riding gear, I took the knife back to its normal home. My friend nodded approvingly.

“Sensible woman, but I knew that already. How’s the house guest? Still here?”

I nodded.

“Give me a minute, and I’ll warn her. What are you up to?”

“No plans, woman. Carl’s away on business”

“Fancy a Chinese? We were just going to slob around tonight, play some music and have a look through my photos”

“This girl sound?”

“I think so. She’s doing her best not to piss me off, but she’s still taking risks. I’ll introduce you in a few”

Rosie grinned happily.

“Then I shall enjoy taking the piss out of your photos!”

I slipped back through the door to the living room, where Kim was looking terrified. I held up both hands, smiling at her in as reassuring a way as I could manage.

“Nothing to worry about. My oldest friend, one of the family that sorted your medicine for me. She wants to see the pics as well, so she can embarrass me. You up to that?”

She gave a hesitant nod, and I called Rosie in before pulling out the menu for my trusty local takeaway. We made a selection, adding a number of side dishes as well as some chips to the order, just in case the cuisine didn’t suit Kim, and Rosie stood up.

“I’ll be back in a bit, then, and you, Debbie Wells, you put that purse away and don’t be so fucking silly. My treat!”

As soon as the back door slammed, Kim turned to me.

“She scares the shit out of me!”

I nodded, smiling happily.

“Oh yes! My sister is very good at that. Just ignore it, and I’ll set up the autochanger for the CDs. Any requests?”

There was enough room on the settee for all three of us, trays on laps with a collection of foil boxes on the coffee table, as Echoes followed Below the Salt, to be followed in turn by Led Zep Four, which I had picked so that I could follow it with a Sandy Denny collection, all on the basis that we weren’t out to dance ourselves silly but rather to appreciate words and music together. Once the bulk of the food was gone, I found some wet wipes for our fingers and pulled out the two oldest photo albums.

“Right, Kim. This is somewhere called the Farmyard Fumble, and those two little girls are sitting either side of you, just not so little now…”

CHAPTER 13
Kim was running out of steam by ten o’clock, so I helped her up the stairs to her room before returning to the living room and Rosie, who was pensive.

“Who the fuck is she, Deb?”

“Someone else who’s had a load of shit, love. Thank your lad for the medicine; I don’t think she’d have survived much longer the way she was going, and the weather”

“Well, what are you going to do with her?”

“Haven’t got a clue. I know she’s had a load of shit from her family, but I have no idea at all if they’re looking for her. I suspect they might have gone down the same road as my biological pair”

“Oh?”

“Once too many times staying away and they, or more probably my father, made it permanent. Disowned me as a fairy and a waste of time, that sort of stuff. I got out of one place and went home, just the once. My mother called the police to take me back”

“Fuck. Any idea how old this one is?”

“Mid teens, I would say. Hard to tell with all that hair she hides under”

“Aye, I noticed that. She’s expecting a slap, any minute”

I just nodded, and Rosie moved over to hug me, such a comfort and something I hadn’t realised I needed so much right then. Pulling my head down to her shoulder, she whispered, to me.

“You see so much of your life in her, don’t you?”

I didn’t trust my voice, so just nodded.

“Well, I’ve got some thoughts, Deb. First thing is to see if anyone is actually hunting her. You happy looking after her for a while?”

“What option does she have? She’ll end up dead if she goes back out there!”

“I know that, but she might not want to stay. You need to let her see what those options really are. Get her settled, get her well, and keep eyes and ears open”

“Yeah… There is someone switched on where I found her. Goes by the name Sparky”

“Heard of him. Ex-Marine, went a bit loopy after the war against the Argies. Hear he can’t stand being indoors. Yeah, he’s sound. I’ll ask the boys to have a word with the working girls, just in case Daddy Dear is doing some kerbcrawling. Where’s Kim from?”

“Pontypridd. I’ve just had another idea, which might be a bad one. When I turned eighteen, Mam and Dad took me to a copshop, and after we had got past all the ‘child absconder’ shite, the cop there seemed a bit switched on. Sympathetic”

“Talking to the Filth? You sure, girl?”

“I think so. If Kim ends up with the wrong lot, we need a way she can get out. Runcorn was enough for me. Not talking to the coppers for a while, though. See where we stand first”

Rosie gave me another squeeze.

“Where’s the kids old clothes?”

“By the back door!”

She grabbed a bit of paper from the table, pulling a pen out of jacket pocket.

“Back in a few. You got a spare pit for me?”

“Of course!”

“Then I have some beers I slipped into your fridge after I got the Chinese. Want one? Then its friends?”

“Go on!”

She returned a minute later, eight cans of bitter and a couple of glasses to hand. As I poured, she asked if she could borrow my phone.

“Rockrose? Wildcat. Can you scare up some kit for me tonight? Speak to Oily; he has sources. I need a pair of para-style boots, size six. Jeans, couple of pairs if you can, size ten long. T-shirts, usual sort, small or medium. If there’s a leather available, same sort of size, but if not, Oily knows where my old stuff is. First thing tomorrow, if you can. Deb’s place. Got all that? No, T-shirts and shit are for a girl. Oh, and a lid, if there’s a spare one. I’d guess about a 54, and some gloves, medium. Ta!”

Click went the phone as she hung up and turned to me with a grin.

“Being the Prez’s Old Lady is handy at times, Deb! Now… that is better. Always get a thirst on with a Chinese, and I didn’t know if your new friend is safe with booze. Only four cans each, so if you fancy it, we’ll take a ride out tomorrow, depending on the weather. Cheers!”

I woke the next morning to the front doorbell and bright sunshine streaming through my curtains. On with my dressing gown and down the stairs, where I found Rosie shutting the door with a call of “Thanks, sis!”

There were several bags in the living room, but Rosie just pushed me straight past them towards the kitchen.

“Kettle on first, woman! Your guest still asleep?”

“Think so. Didn’t hear anything from her room”

“Well, take some of these bags up. I’ll bring the rest”

Once upstairs, I knocked gently on Kim’s door.

“Yes?”

“Can I come in, Kim?”

There was a pause, which worried me more than a little, before a shaky “Yes”. I opened the door, to find her sitting up in her bed, covers drawn up to her chin.

“Got my sister here with me, Kim, with some bits and pieces. We’re going to leave them with you, and if they fit, breakfast is on”

I backed out, shutting the door behind me, and Rosie and I padded back down the stairs. I don’t know why, but it seemed right that we make as little noise as possible, so as to avoid frightening the poor girl. We drank tea, then a cafetiere of proper coffee (Ruth had expanded my tastes rather a lot), and then, as the stairs creaked, Rosie started some bacon frying. Kim appeared at the living room door, a T-shirt reading “Tri Fucking Umph” doing nothing to hide the flatness of her chest.

“You just bought all this for me?”

Rosie called back from the kitchen, as she cracked some eggs into the hot pan.

“No, love. We had a whip-round with our friends. All old stuff, all on loan, really”

“I got to give it all back?”

“No, girl. You use it till it’s worn out, or you find someone else who needs it more than you do. You pass it on, or you give it back so that we can. Now, sit the fuck down so I can get on with brekky. Tea or coffee?”

There was a lot of stuff laid out in the kitchen that I didn’t recall having been in my fridge.

“Rosie?”

“Yeah?”

“You stop at the corner shop when you were getting last night’s Chinese?”

“So I know you well, and I wanted a decent breakfast. Want to make something of it, punk?”

There was an odd noise to my left, and I realised it was actually stifled laughter from Kim. I turned my face towards her.

“You just wait, my girl! Your turn to make breakfast will come! Anyway, how’s that stuff fit?”

“Um, OK. How’d you know what size?”

Rosie came through the door carrying two loaded plates, which she set down before me and Kim.

“Looked at the shit by the back door, girl, and took some guesses about head and feet”

A few seconds later she set her own plate down, and turned back to Kim.

“Breakfast first. If your appetite isn’t up to it, just dump it on our plates”

She started to laugh.

“Debbie?”

“Yeah?”

“Confession time, aye? How many of Fester’s ‘full English’ efforts did you really not fancy? You know: after a heavy night?”

I couldn’t help it, and my own laughter went on for quite a while after a sniggered “Guilty!”. I sneaked a glance at the youngest woman, and there was more animation there than I had seen so far. Rosie hadn’t finished, though.

“Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you feel up to a ride out? Weather’s being kind, so if you feel you can cope, there’s a lid there”

“In the van?”

“Nope. Bikes. You can either sit on my pillion or Deb’s”

“Never been on a motorbike”

I had another moment, remembering Dad and a Triton, the turns at the roundabouts getting tighter and faster… No. I found my smile again.

“I can remember that conversation, when I first met Rosie. You’ll like it, but if you start feeling cold, tell us, and I’ll come back for the van. Don’t expect Rosie will take us that far. Where did you have in mind, love?”

“I was thinking of Southerndown. There’s a pub not far from the beach for a warm drink if it gets too cold. You bringing those bins with you, Deb?”

“Think so. Be a mix of stuff out there. She means binoculars, kid. I like bird watching”

“I don’t know anything about birds”

Rosie laughed again.

“You will do after today, love. Now, Deb? Dishes left to soak and do them later? I did the cooking, and I’ll be shooting straight off after we get back, so there’ll just be the two of you tonight”

Kim jerked at that, and in a very quiet voice asked “How long can I stay?”

I set my fork down, as I mopped up the last bit of mingled egg yolk and bean juice.

“Really? As long as you need to, girl. Which reminds me: I need to go out for an hour or two tonight. Sparky has a load of my cups, and I think I need to let him know you’re OK”

“You want me to come with you?”

“No. I don’t want anyone seeing you in the city with me until I have an idea if anyone’s looking for you. With the lid and scarf, nobody can see your face, so that’s safe. I’ll give you some tights for under your jeans, then it’s boots on and back down here, OK?”

Rosie led me out of Cardiff, Kim perched nervously behind me and hanging onto my waist like grim death. We made our way out to the more open roads, where Rosie gave her bike its head a little more, and I realised she had been taking it easy that the girl could get used to the way things moved. Onto the A48, and a little above legal almost as far as Bridgend, where she turned off south for quieter roads and a last turn into the beach carpark nestled at the mouth of the little valley running down to the shingle of the beach and the layered cliffs of Ogmore. I let Kim step off before settling my bike onto its side stand, and she followed my lead as I removed my helmet and shoo out my hair, another memory emerging, of Rosie telling me in a serious tone about putting my hair inside my jacket if I let it grow long.

Kim was staring around, eyes wide.

“You OK, kid?”

“That was amazing! And this place is gorgeous!”

“Not been here before?”

“No. My family are all…”

She pulled herself up with an obvious shudder.

“My family were all pub and telly. Only time we really went anywhere was to Spain to go on the piss for a fortnight”

She stood in silence for a few seconds, then shook her own hair out.

“What’s that over the other side of the water?”

“Exmoor. We used to do a couple of the markets around there, when I was a lot younger”

Change the subject right now, Deborah Petrie Wells.

“It’s a National Park, all red deer and wild ponies. Oh! Look: see the white bird out there?”

“The seagull?”

“Not a seagull, Kim. That’s a fulmar. Like a miniature albatross”

She muttered something, and repeated it louder as Rosie made her “Eh?” expression.

“I said ‘stormy petrel on a stick’. Monty Python”

Rosie barked out a laugh.

“Fuck me, Deb, and I thought this one was shy! Anything else out there?”

“I scanned the sea with Mam’s bins, and pointed out a couple of winter-plumage guillemots, passing the optics around so that the other two could see them, then showed them the pimple of Dunkery Beacon over the other side of the water.

“Walked up there a couple of times. I think I have some photos I took from there, looking back to here. I’ll see if I can dig them out later. Now, see down there in the rocks? With the orange legs? That’s a turnstone”

I showed her a few more birds, all reasonably common ones, before I realised that none of them were ‘common’ to her. It was only when I noticed a tremor in her hand as she handed back the bins that I realised how chilly it was becoming.

“Rosie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Time for that pub, I think. Temperatures going down”

“Right. Get warmed up, and Kim?”

“Yeah?”
We chose the nearer of the two pubs, and it was toasty-warm inside. I was just unzipping my jacket when the barman called over to us.

“Don’t bother, woman. We don’t serve your sort”

Rosie raised an eyebrow, then looked hard at Kim before shrugging and walking silently out of the door. We followed her to the car park, where she broke her silence.

“Cunt needs a slapping. Not today, though. I know another couple of places. Bit further before you can warm up, kid”

She took her anger out on the road, and I had to push it a bit harder on the way to the A48, and she was certainly a lot more liberal in how she interpreted the speed limit, rolling east at 85 mph and above, but we avoided seeing any police cars, which left me wondering if Rosie’s mood was somehow being transmitted by some form of telepathy. ‘Stopping this woman would really spoil your day’.

She turned off south after a while, near Cowbridge, skirting the western end of the town before pulling up at a place called the Cross Inn. It didn’t look like a biker pub, so I told Rosie to wait with Kim while I checked what sort of welcome they had for us.

I took my lid off before opening the pub’s door, thinking it would look less threatening, and the barman looked up as I walked in.

“You not got cold legs, just wearing jeans?”

“Nah; got tights on underneath them”

“Good idea. What can I get you?”

“You OK with bikers?”

He laughed out loud.

“What? You going to eat my hamster or something?”

His mood was infectious, and I started chuckling myself.

“Always the comedians! Got another one outside, but she’s into Monty Python”

“Brilliant! Get her in the warm, then, before she becomes an ex-biker”

I went to the door, giving the other two a thumbs up, and as they entered the barman called out “So which one of you has the LAAAVley plumage?”

Kim actually started giggling, and to my astonishment spoke directly to the man.

“That’ll be me, but I’m tired and shagged out after a long ride, as well as bloody cold”

He grinned back.

“That end of the room there’s an open fire, and soup of the day is cream of tomato. Drinks?”

We had a round of teas, then a bowl each of the soup, which came with some really nice crusty rolls to help mop it up. I noticed Kim starting to sag a little, as Rosie cast a few looks at her watch.

“Rosie?”

“Yes, Deb?”

“I know the way from here. If you need to get off, do it. I’ll run a hot bath for this one when we get in”

“Keep me up to speed, girl. I’ll let you know if we get any word about snoopers. Tell me if Sparky’s got anything”

She looked over to Kim.

“If you feel warm enough for the ride back, I’ll shoot straight off. Things to do, people to see tonight”

I rose to hug her after she had zipped up her jacket, and Kim surprised me once more by doing the same. There was a hint of tears in her eyes as she squeezed my old friend, and I heard her whisper “Thank you”

I settled our bill on the simple basis that Rosie had paid for everything else, and then rode in a much more sedate manner back through the city to Adamsdown, where the Suzi took its place in my back yard as Kim set the kettle boiling.

I left her to soak in the bath as I topped up the urn in the van before driving round to my regular spot. It wasn’t long before Sparky turned up, with a carrier bag full of my mugs and a broad grin. As I poured and handed out the refilled mugs, he took his usual spot on the van’s sill and gave me what information he had.

“How’s she doing, Deb?”

“Much better, mate. I really think you saved her life. Got her dosed up with antibiotics, and I left her soaking in a hot bath and making bad jokes”

“All I need to know, Deb. All the news I need. Now: no parents, no family, nothing like that, but there was a couple of plod sniffing around, with a photo. ‘Have you seen this boy’ stuff. I was right, then. Don’t think the parents were. And I don’t give a shit what the midwife said when she was born. So, if I were you, I’d keep her profile low for now. Picture was a school one, and it didn’t look much like her. Blazer, tie, short hair. Set me thinking”

“And?”

“If her sweet and loving parents really wanted her back, not only would they have used a more recent photo, but they would actually HAVE a more recent photo. I don’t think they do care, and all of this is to tick the ‘concerned family’ box until their little sugar plum fairy is all forgotten about and they can get on with being the twats I think they really are. Seen it before, Deb; the plod will be on her case for a fortnight or so, then, unless she gets lifted for some reason, the file goes to WPB”

“Sorry?”

“Keep forgetting you’re a tinker, girl. Waste Paper Basket. Binned. Forgotten about. Oh: and she’s fifteen”

I left him with another refill and the bag of mugs once more, and headed home. I found all the dishes washed, dried and put away, and the refuse of the previous night’s Chinese sorted into the appropriate bins. I looked in on Kim, and she was fast asleep, her dark curls spread across her pillow, in the glow of the street lights through the curtains. I closed the door gently, and started making plans.

CHAPTER 14
The plan in question wavered a bit the next morning, as Kim seemed a little worse, and I realised that the run out to Southerndown might have been a bit premature. I raised that with her when I got in from work, no longer quite as worried that she was planning on a midnight flit. Once again, a pot of tea was produced as soon as I had my boots off.

“Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking about yesterday. You think we were a bit early taking you out in the cold?”

She sat and thought for a minute, then shook her head.

“Not really. I think I needed a bit of a… I needed a bit of being a person. I’ll get better, so don’t worry; I’ll be OK to move out soon”

That comment actually surprised me enough to make me swallow some of my tea the wrong way, and I had a short bout of coughing.

“Don’t be silly, Kim. You think I want you gone? Got other thoughts, me. Now, Sparky says the coppers have been asking after you”

She paled, starting to rise from the table, and I waved at her to sit back down.

“For fuck’s sake learn to relax a bit! Sorry. That came out wrong. Sparky told me what they were saying, and it didn’t sound quite right to me, or to him. They said you’re fifteen, but they were waving an old school picture around. He also said he doesn’t think they know your new name. Anyone in your family or your school know it?”

She shook her head.

“No. I never told anyone. They would just have hurt me more if they knew. My secret dream, sort of”

I smiled back at her, trying to draw the sting of my earlier snap.

“Sounds a bit like me. My mother, the legal one, she had records by Debbie Reynolds, and I always thought she was lovely, so I took her name”

“Who’s Debbie Reynolds?”

It was my turn to sit speechless for a while, before shaking my head in astonishment.

“You ever watch Star Wars?”

“Once. Not my sort of thing”

“Well, Princess Leia? The actress? Debbie was her mother”

“Oh. Didn’t know that”

“Anyway, we need to sort out a few issues, a few details and stuff. Sparky and me, we think your parents aren’t really looking that hard for you, and once we see if the girls have had any questions, we’ll know. Now, when Mam and Dad first took me in, I was their niece, his sister’s kid. He called her Brenda, and she was never real. Now, before I go further, I need to know a few things. First one is easy: are you happy staying here?”

She looked worried again, so I gave her another smile.

“It’s a simple thing. I’m not going to decide for you, but that room is yours for as long as you want and need it. Choice is all yours, so trust me when I say I am not dropping hints for you to clear off. Who’d have a welcome-home brew on for me if you left? Think about it. The other bits sort of depend on it”

She nodded.

“The other bits?”

“Yeah. If I am watching out for coppers and parents sniffing around, it would be nice to know what name they’ll be asking for”

Her eyes went down to her knees, and she all but whispered “Barry John Norley. Dad likes to watch rugby”

I stifled my grin at birth, remembering my two men friends at the Arms Park.

“Right… Here’s an idea. Dad had a brother called Brendan, who is as real as his sister was. His son was… Terry. That makes you Kim Petrie. Can you remember that? And you’re sixteen now, left school. Makes you my… Oh, fuck knows what that is, sixty-seventh cousin fourteen times removed with a triple twist, whatever. Cousin will do, I think. Grab that notepad, and we’ll write it down. We’ll need a new birthday… Got it! Star Wars Day!”

“Eh?”

“May the fourth… be with you. Don’t look at me like that; who’s the one quoting Python all the time?”

The banter did the trick, and I caught her relaxing.

“Anywhere you know well that isn’t Pontypridd?”

“Ummmmm… Caerphilly? Mam likes to go shopping there”

“That’ll do for now, then. What I’m thinking is that someone is going to spot you in here, and we need to have our story sorted out first. Can’t put you next door, as the students--- sorry! I own next door as well; I rent it out in term time. They’d read you right away. You feeling well enough to go out in a couple of days? Might need a little padding first. What chest size are you?”

“Mam said I’m a 32 for my chest. Dad says I’m just a runt”

“Right. I’m going to have a think, but I’ll have a look round the shops tomorrow. Got a Tesco run, so I can probably find what we need there. Now, what are we eating tonight?”

She looked embarrassed.

“Um, I had a look in your freezer, and I got some sausages out. Hope you like toad in the hole”

“Got no batter mix, love”

“I made some. It’s in the fridge in a jug. I was going to do it with frozen peas and fried onions and gravy, but that’ll be from instant granules”

It was more than adequate, in the end, and once more, we ended up on the settee together, watching some mindless television until she could no longer keep her eyes from shutting, and I took her upstairs to her room.

The next morning was a dry goods drop, which saved me the faff a refrigerated load would have given me, and I simply locked the cab before explaining that I was going to do a little bit of personal shopping and heading into the interior of the huge shop, armed with Kim’s sizes on a scrap of paper. I didn’t splash out, at least not that much, but I did find a pack of bras that would fit her, as well as a couple of pairs of cheap trainers. There was a quilted jacket on sale, so I added a couple of packs of knickers and some tights before heading to the check out, reminding myself just in time to pick up both a spare toothbrush and a woman’s razor that would do for her face, if necessary, and some shaving foam to go with it. I’d taken my throwovers to work, as well as a couple of bungees, and it looked as if the whole lot would fit into the bags.

My wagon was ready for me, so I signed the various dockets, checked all my hitching and curtains and headed back for another load. I was feeling a lot better than I had for a long while, and as I set my copy of ‘Warrior on the Edge of Time’ pounding away on the truck’s stereo, I started to sing along.

The reaction I obtained from Kim was everything I had hoped for, but there was a hint of wistfulness when she looked at the bras.

“Go into the kitchen, girl. I’ll need the big scissors from the knife block, and there’s a bag of pudding rice on the side. Bring that as well”

I got a confused look, but I had remembered something Marlene had said in some mad discussion or other, and while Kim sat uncomfortably in her jeans, nothing on top but an empty bra, I showed her what could be done with a cut-up pair of tights and a few handfuls of rice. Once I had arrived at the right size for the first one, I weighed it on the kitchen scales, measured out the right quantity of rice for the second one, and Kim had visible breasts.

I was stunned by her reaction, which was to burst into tears and launch herself at me for a hug. I realised how little we had in common just then; my own breasts had been helped along by Mam and Carol, growing naturally on the same timescale as any other girl’s, and that certainly wasn’t the case with Kim. I had a lot to learn.

She was less pleased when I pulled out my old school books and suggested some work might be in order. Her frown vanished when she had the revelation that setting her homework was actually confirmation that her feet would be staying under my table.

We kept her indoors until the antibiotics were done, and as her illness disappeared, she became more at ease, livelier in her conversation and more adventurous in her cooking. Not all of it was successful, but she did produce a bloody good rice pudding from the remains of the box that had provided her breasts. I kept up my evening tea runs, of course, and after Sparky confirmed the visits from the coppers had ended, and the word from the working girls was equally negative, I decided to take the risk.

“Fancy a meal out tonight, Kim?”

“Will that be safe?”

I laughed, remembering Sparky’s description of the photo being shown around.

“Word I’ve heard is that the picture they’ve got of you involves a school blazer and tie, and short hair. Not what you’ve got now, is it?”

She grinned, happily and naturally.

“Where are you thinking of?”

“Friend of mine runs a place just round the corner. Got your family details straight?”

“Yes, Nana!”

“Oy! Not that bloody old yet, am I? Get ready, then”

She came out of her room in old jeans and her borrowed leather, but with the pink pair of the cheap trainers on her feet rather than the boots. I tossed her an old handbag just to complete the image, and we set off out of the back door. I paused to make sure all the locks were set on door, van and bike and then strolled around the corner to Ruth’s place.

“Hiya, Debbie! Not seen you for a few days. What’s been happening? And who’s this?”

“Ruth, this is Kim. Don’t know what you call her, but she’s my Dad’s brother’s granddaughter, if that makes sense”

“Don’t ask me, Deb! Hi, Kim. What are you doing: College?”

I let her run with the script we had rehearsed.

“No, not the sort of thing I’m made for. Done my GCSEs, going to have a look round for a job. Debbie here, she’s putting me up while I get sorted”

“Ah. That explains the face I kept seeing at your upstairs window, Deb. Nearly called the police about that, I did”

Shit.

“She’s been indoors a while, love. Came down with a really awful infection, so she’s been on antibiotics for a couple of weeks. State she was in, the police coming in, she would probably have snuffed it. But thanks for keeping an eye out. Anyway, enough of us. What have you got tonight that’s nice?”

Ruth relaxed a little more, grinning at Kim.

“One thing your… Cousin. That’ll do. One thing Debbie knows about is what she likes to eat. Tonight, I’ve got hunter’s chicken, or pork escalope”

Kim looked up.at that.

“Don’t know wither of them. What are they?”

“The chicken is a sort of stew, chunky bits in a tomato-based sauce with some onions and mushrooms and that. The escalope is a piece of pork coated in breadcrumbs with a mushroom sauce. I serve it with chips and peas”

She laughed at that.

“Silly thing is that the chicken is a French thing for hunters, and the pork is an Austrian thing, also for hunters, and the only hunting you two needed to do was walk round the corner. What are you drinking, Deb?”

“You want a coke, Kim, or something hot?”

“Coke, please Could I have the pork thing?”

“OK. Two cokes then, and a couple of the escalopes, please, Ruth”

We took a table away from the window, and as the café was a little busy, it curtailed Ruth’s questioning. Eventually, though, she found a minute or two to sit with us.

“Debbie making you work for your keep, Kim? Domestic service and all that?”

“I do some of the cooking, and I do a bit of cleaning”

“What’s her cooking like, Deb?”

“Er, variable, but she did do a lovely rice pud the other day. And a cracking toad in the hole”

“Really? I might be able to use her, then. Give her some basics, if she likes cooking”

Kim looked interested, but I wasn’t sure if it wasn’t too early.

“She’s still not a hundred per cent, Ruth. Rosie and me took her out on the bikes a few days ago, and it left her a bit ill for a while”

“Well, if she wants, I’ve always got space for a Saturday girl. Mostly loading and unloading the dishwasher, though. Might be a bit boring, but I pay cash. And a toasty and a hot chocolate”

I stuck my hand up immediately.

“Please, Miss! I’m free some Saturdays!”

Happy laughter, especially from Kim. Three weeks later, she was behind the kitchen door in the Olive, and two weeks after that she took her wages and bought her first skirt, in Dorothy Perkins.

Two weeks after that, now satisfied that the hounds had been called off, I walked into the reception area at Cardiff’s main police station.

“Hello; I don’t know if you can help me. I’m looking for someone who used to work here, a woman sergeant. Name of Harris. Anita, I think”

CHAPTER 15
The young copper looked confused.

“Never heard of her. You able to wait a bit while I ask one of the older lads?”

I pushed back hard on my instinctive reaction to being in a police station and nodded.

“Aye, please. I’ve got the time”

He was back in less than five minutes, with a broad smile.

“Now, this is going to sound silly, but bear with me: she retired a few years ago, but she’s in today”

“Eh?”

“She retired from the police as such, but she came back as a civilian worker. An advisor, actually. Works in our Community Policing unit”

“You say she’s in, then?”

“Yes. Would you like me to give her a shout?”

“Please. That would be great”

“Who shall I say is calling?”

“Just say… Just tell her it’s Debbie”

He looked at me with a much sharper expression.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you sound a little uncertain. There’s a private room over there, so if you want to sit out of public view, feel free to use it”

The back of my mind was shouting ‘trap’, but I knew it was just a reflex. The room held the usual set of four chairs and a table, all fixed solidly to the floor. I had expected a longer wait, so was halfway through the latest edition of ‘Bike’ when there was a tap at the door.

I looked up, and she shook her head.

“Bloody hell. I did wonder ‘which Debbie?’, then had a flashback, and, well, bloody hell! It is you, isn’t it?”

“Who are you thinking of?”

“Child absconder turned eighteen and so none of my business, according to your minders”

“My parents, you mean”

“Not the ones you started with, but I take your point. No offence meant”

“I’ll let you know later if I’m offended. You’ve retired?”

“I have. Too old for walking the streets, now. I work in the Communities team”

“What’s that mean?”

“Sort of glorified local officer. We used to have beat bobbies, but what people meant by that was someone walking round the same circuit every day. Not got the staff for that, and cars are quicker, but there’s still a need for someone who knows an area”

She paused, cocking her head to one side.

“You didn’t look me up to talk about the application of the Peel Principles to policing the streets of our capital city. So why did you look me up? Why are you here? I don’t remember you being quite that fond of coppers”

Before I could speak, she stood up again.

“Silly question, Debbie. Is this going to be a long one, and if it is, should I get us a brew in?”

It was a clear attempt to get me on side, but I decided to run with it. Ten minutes later, she was back with a couple of mugs and some paper wraps of sugar and plastic tubs of milk. She laid the bits and pieces on the table, pushing one of the mugs towards me.

“Canteen tea, or ‘tea-flavoured drink’, as some alleged comedian called it. You want something from me, or perhaps need it. You want to start? Oh, and how are you doing? Your parents? Oh. I am sorry, love”

My face had clearly given me away, as it always did when someone reminded me of Mam and Dad.

“Both of them? I am so sorry. Your Mam was a formidable woman”

You don’t know the half of it was my immediate thought, but I swallowed the words.

“Yes, both of them. Long time ago, now. I moved down here not long after. Got friends in the area, so it made sense. Anyway, you were right. I do want something from your lot, and I remembered your name, so thought it would be a good start. I… I do some charity work, sort of. Mam and Dad left me well off, and so did my mother and father”

I almost heard her mind click as she worked out the meaning, and then she smiled.

“Helping the homeless, by any chance? Would you have a white Transit with a tea urn in it?”

I nodded, and she smiled with real warmth, for the very first time.

“I know about you, Debbie, or at least I’ve heard things about the woman who hands out hot drinks when they’re most needed. You have saved more than a few lives, in my opinion. Chwarae teg, love. I am not going to ask why you do it, because I think I already know the answer to that one. Not many people willing to put themselves out for those people”

I felt myself snarling at that term, but once again fought back my discomfort at being in the country of the Filth. I needed this woman, or at least someone like her.

“And what do you think of ‘those people’, Sergeant Harris?”

“Please, call me ‘Nita. Not a sergeant anymore. What do I think? Two things, really. No, three. First one is that it is a shitty place to end up in, and those people are just that: people. They don’t stop being creatures of Our Lord just because they ran out of luck”

“You a godbotherer?”

“I don’t shout about it. Anyway, nobody can bother God, as he’s above all that. I just have firm beliefs, and I do my best to live up to them. People are people”

“The other two bits?”

“Ah. First one is selfish, and I mean selfish in speaking as a copper, and thinking of my colleagues. I have dealt with six deaths with no suspicious circumstances, six people found in an alley when the weather’s been poor, whose bodies had nothing left, who didn’t have some woman in a Transit with a hot drink and a smile. Selfish, because I don’t want my mates to have to go through such an experience. It is not pleasant in any way at all. And the third, before you ask, is down to you. I remember what you went through before your Mam and Dad found you, and I do my best to say ‘never again’, not on my watch. Those are my reasons, and it’s a big part of what we do in Communities”

“All very upright and praiseworthy, then?”

She grinned, in a cheekier way.

“There’s also the simple fact that there is a measurable drop in opportunistic theft and shoplifting when the homeless are given a bit of help! Keeps the City off our backs”

I found myself grinning back, as I finally started to relax, and she hit me with a direct question.

“What do you want, Debbie?”

I fiddled with my cup for a few seconds, then smiled at her.

“I can remember those days, too. I see a lot of kids on my rounds, a lot of runaways. Speaking from fucking experience---sorry. ‘Unfortunate’ experience, I meant, a lot of those have left home for very, very good reasons, and they either can’t go home, as it would be dangerous, or their families want them gone and forgotten about. You will understand that I do not exactly have a high opinion of children’s homes, and I don’t just mean Runcorn, or Carlisle, but Bryn fucking Estyn and all the others. What I want from you is an idea about whether I will pick up a load of shit from your mates if I start a shelter for the younger ones”

She started to speak, and I held up a hand.

“My turn. I will do what I can to help the kids, because the adults are safe from people like the Parsons or Cunninghams. I just want to know if any shelter will just be used by the police as first point of call for runaways”

She stared at me, her expression one of forced blankness.

“Do you have a criminal record of any kind, Debbie?”

“Apart from being a ‘child absconder’? Not at all”

“Can I have your address?”

“No. Not yet, anyway”

“Ponty, Merthyr, Penarth, Llantrisant or Cwm Parc?”

“What?”

“Whichever runaway you’ve got under cover, Debbie, that I don’t know about. No. Please sit down”

I settled back down again.

“Debbie, my promise, OK? I recognise that anyone that may or may not be keeping warm under your roof might have strong ideas about being taken back home, or ending up in care. I appreciate what I think it is that you are offering us. It just needs a little bit of official safeguarding work. If you decide to go ahead with something I officially don’t know you’ve already started doing, it needs an official scrutiny. I know enough about you to run the background checks, or at least I know where to dig out the details I would need. I will have to run it past my oppo in Social Services first”

“Not getting them involved”

“Not what I meant. I have… we are a multi-agency team. I have a couple working with me that I have housebroken. As long as you pass the background checks, they will go along with my opinion”

“There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“Still so spiky, aren’t you?”

“You blame me?”

“Not at all. You’re right. I want a liaison officer, from my side, to work with you”

“Not letting coppers past my door, Nita. Not while I have the choice”

“I’m not a copper anymore, Debbie. This isn’t a job I would trust many of my old colleagues to give the right approach, the right consideration. Bit black and white, they are”

“So it would be you?”

“Yup. I do have another reason”

“Which is?”

She sighed, and started piling the detritus of our drinks into her empty mug.

“Four of those dead people I dealt with were children, Debbie. If you decide to do this, I’d really like to be able to send you some kids while they are still breathing”

CHAPTER 16
I was back there a week later, leaving Kim to do some extra work with Ruth, and this time Nita was with a middle-aged woman she introduced as Heidi. I stared a little when I heard the name, and she shrugged.

“My Mam was a bit conventional as a girl. I’m just glad it wasn’t Pollyanna. Now, Nita’s been giving me a bit of background, and I have done my own checks. Can I just say one thing before we go on?”

“What do you want to say?”

“Sorry.

That’s all. It does, however, give me some idea of why you are doing this. Anyway, nothing on the CRB checks—er, criminal records and that. Nothing at all there, so we can put that bit behind us. Can you tell me, in simple terms, what you are proposing? Nita’s given me her side, but I don’t like Chinese whispers”

The past week had given me the time to work out my ideas in order to try and spot any obvious pitfalls, and it was clear that while Nita obviously suspected that I already had one guest at home, she had no intentions of pushing the matter.

“Simple terms? You know my background, so you know what scares me. I was living rough, and I was incredibly lucky to meet my Mam and Dad when I did. If your lot, either of your lot, had found me, I would have been packed off to another shithole like Runcorn. I won’t do that to kids. I also can’t look after loads of them, so what I am asking for is specific. I am offering space to kids like me. Trans girls. Those who can’t go home, or dare not. Just like one of those domestic violence shelters, safe houses. Nobody gets in without my say-so, and the agreement of the residents, if I have any”

Nita was nodding, but Heidi looked a little worried.

“Not that easy. Parents and families will be worried. They need to know where their kid is, that they are safe”

“Then let them know the kid is safe. Not difficult. If they want to know where the kid is, tell them to fuck off. If I do this, and I hear that you are going to tell Daddy Dearest where their daughter is, I will move the kids out before you get anywhere bear them”

Heidi looked at Nita.

“You did warn me she could be prickly!”

I showed her my teeth.

“You’ve read up on my history, you say. Do you fucking blame me?”

I got a shrug and a wry smile in response.

“You said ‘daughter’, Debbie. Can I take it to mean you are offering to house trans girls?”

“Yes. Only them. No males of any kind. Girls like me don’t cope too well with men, not until we are a bit more settled into life. There’s also the fact that I wouldn’t be able to handle a lot of residents, and there won’t be that many trans girls about”

“Could we have a look at your place first?”

“One of you. And not you. I don’t trust social services, not fully”

Nita was nodding.

“I get that, Debbie. Would you be OK with me? I have some thoughts, and I think it would help if I ran a copper’s eye over the place”

“Why a ‘copper’s eye’, Nita?”

“Escape routes, Debbie. Emergency exits if your notional Daddy Dearest pays a call”

I found myself nodding, as I already had some ideas on that front.

“Sounds like a good idea. When do you want to do it?”

She looked at her colleague.

“This a goer, Heidi?”

The other woman sat for a few seconds before nodding.

“Yes. It is. I can handle the files the same way we do with the DV charities, just a different set of locking drawers. One last question, though. Debbie: are you doing this for the money?”

“What money? I have enough”

“We pay a fee, a support grant, to fosterers. In essence, that is what you will be, a foster mother”

I had a sudden flashback to Mrs Keegan and her readiness to slap my head off for sitting ‘like a bleeding fairy’, and the other foster parents I had suffered under. Not me. Not like that, ever.

“No, Heidi, it’s not about the money. It’s about doing something good for someone else. Like my Dad taught me: they might not get a chance to pay me back, but they can always do it for someone else who needs a hand. Song I like says that it’s only the giving that makes us what we are”

“Paying it forward”

“What?”

“American saying. If you can’t pay it back, pay it forward”

“I like that. Yes. That is what I meant, exactly. But if there’s grant, it would help. Nita?”

“Yes?”

“When do you want a look at the place?”

“Today be possible?”

I thought it through. Kim would be at Ruth’s, so she’d be safe. Get the ball rolling, then”

“I think so. Got a spare lid?”

That brought a genuine laugh.

“As you would no doubt put it, you can fuck right off with that idea! I have a Clio; I’ll drive, and follow you. Just don’t push it on the roads!”

She shook her head, then gave me a much more serious looking over.

“Debbie Wells, you have come a bloody long way since I first met you. In an odd way, I feel proud of you. You done here, Heidi?”

“I think so. Fill me in with the… appropriate details when you get back?”

“Wilco. Up and at ‘em, Debbie?”

I led her through the City to Adamsdown, doing my best to avoid filtering or pulling away from the lights too quickly, and she was only about thirty seconds behind me when I stopped at the entrance to the alley behind the house. After dumping my lid and leather, I gave her a quick tour of the two houses, before we settled down in my living room with a cup of tea each. Nita had a little note pad, and as we sipped, she worked through her points.

“No more students, then? The grants will be handy, so don’t turn them down. Right: access and egress. Some of my suggestions might be a bit expensive, so see them as suggestions, not requirements. First, this house.

“The kitchen opens straight onto the living room, and straight onto the back yard. I would replace that door there with a much safer one. Same for the back door, and that will give you an airlock to check visitors. If you are using the second house, keep the front door locked, but with keys accessible. I would consider a crash bar on that back door for emergency escape.

“The bit that would be expensive depends on what you intend to do with these properties, because it would affect resale values. You could fit a connecting door through what is now the understairs cupboard. If you get busy, there’s also the possibility of a loft conversion”

“Sounds like a fortress”

“Exactly. Leave the outside looking as it is now, two separate houses, but have your escape route next door. By the time anyone has broken down three heavy doors, you can be out of the other back one and away. Know any builders?”

“I might do… I’ll ask. Wouldn’t want to noise it about, would I?”

“Good thinking. Keep contacts as limited as possible. Oh, and get a pay-as-you-go mobile, what the crooks call a ‘burner’, something you can bin if anyone gets the number. A phone that isn’t tied to your address”

The kitchen door banged, Kim bursting through it.

“Ruth’s given us some pud, Debbie, so I’ve shoved it in the fridge and---”

She stopped in mid flow, shock written across her face, and I moved quickly to block the door in case she made a run for it. I ked her across to the settee and sat her down by pushing her gently backwards until her knees bent.

“Want a drink, love? Tea? Pot’s a fresh one”

“I… I should be getting back… I just came in to leave the pud…”

“This is a friend, love. A safe person. Not a threat. Please stay with us. I’ll get you a cuppa, and then we can talk together. Absolutely safe, OK?”

“OK. If you say so…”

I looked over to Nita.

“Could you please do the tea run, Nita? I just want to make sure this one’s OK”

What I didn’t want to do was let Kim bolt. Nita brought the cup in, settling down into her armchair, and I began.

“Kim, Nita. Nita, Kim. Kim, this is someone who is helping me sort the houses out. I told you I am looking at helping other girls, and Nita has a load of notes---show her the pad, Nita? Ta. Nita has been looking at ways we can make this place safer, more secure, so if we get someone who wants to get in, and we don’t want him to, we can keep them out for longer. Want to talk her through your ideas, Nita?”

She began the same litany she had given me, and I saw Kim slowly relaxing, engaging with the ideas.

“Nita?”

“Yes, Kim?”

“The dining rooms. Next door’s living room becomes a common room. That dining room is the main one. This dining room can be a study for school work”

She looked across at me, then at the old books on the coffee table that Mam had bought me.

“Some of the new girls will need to keep their school work going. That’s what Debbie tells me”

Nita stared at her cup for a long time without speaking.

“Kim?”

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to answer me. I won’t be passing it on, whatever you say. It would just be nice if I could close one enquiry down, knowing that a kid is safe. All I need to know is which town you’re from”

“Caerphilly… No. Sorry. Pontypridd”

“So Barry John Norley is no longer a worry. Thank you”

Kim seemed to have recovered some of the spirit that had told me so clearly to ‘fuck off’ on a freezing wet night.

“Who’s Barry John whatever?”

Nita laughed out loud at that.

“I see your spirit is catching, Debbie. Please take this the right way, and I don’t mean to bring up painful memories, but this is exactly what Heidi said. This is what happens when you pay it forward. This is what your Mam and Dad have given you. Kim?”

“Yes?”

“You are a very lucky girl. Can I ask you one more question?”

“Depends. Might not answer”

“Do you know why that boy Barry John Norley might have decided to run away?”

I felt Kim tremble, and then she made me proud, by simply standing up, turning away from Nita and pulling her dress up and almost off. The scars from Dearest Daddy’s belt had faded a little, but they would always be there, clear across her back and upper thighs.

Nita’s mouth was clamped into a tight line, and I noticed one fist clench.

“Please put your dress back down, Kim. That is all of my questions answered, or all the ones I need for now. I suspect you might be meeting some more girls soon, others who also get very lucky. I’ll see myself out, Deb. I have a Dearest Daddy to tell to fuck off”

CHAPTER 17
After Nita had gone, Kim rose from her seat.

“I should get back to Ruth’s”

“Can it wait a few minutes? I really want a quick talk with you”

She settled back down onto the settee, and I tried to spot any signs she was looking to run. Once again, my memories were haunting me, of sitting in the darkness outside the back door as Dad fed the hedgehogs and two carrier bags sat forgotten next to my chair.

“I am sorry, love. I didn’t think you’d be back, and I needed to let Nita see the house”

“She’s a policewoman, isn’t she?”

“She used to be. I was only eighteen when we first met. She was fine back then, and I think she’ll be fine now. You get what I am hoping to do?”

She looked down at her knees.

“Move on to the next girl that needs you”

“What? Oh! I see. You don’t need me anymore, then?”

“Ummm…”

“You think I sort you out, warm you up, push you out to make room for the next one? I have six bedrooms, Kim. I can always get twin beds in, or even bunks. I told you: this is your home for as long as you need it and as long as you want it. No shoving you out to make room. We’ve had this chat already. Now, we need to find a builder, someone who can put a door through that wall without making the whole house collapse. Any ideas?”

“Er, yes, actually”

“How would you… never mind. You think it through, but get back round to Ruth’s place. I need to pop out for a while, because I have Had an Idea, with capital letters, for next weekend, and I need to get some bits and pieces”

“What’s the idea?”

“Tell you over tea. What are you cooking?”

“You going by the supermarket?”

“Can do”

She rattled off a list of ingredients with a much happier grin, and I grabbed my lid, leathers and throwovers before heading out the door. I had worked out what she was looking at making, and thought that however bad it might turn out, I would smile as I ate it. Her self-confidence was most definitely at rock-bottom.

I sat listening to some old Fleetwood Mac after I got in, watching the clock with one eye and getting increasingly worried as she stayed out, until I heard the back door bang. Voices, more than one. Fuck.

It was Ruth, of course, along with Kim. I tried to force my heart back down into its proper place, realising that Nita’s musings had left me edgier than I had expected.

“Hiya, Deb! Not letting this one loose unsupervised, am I? And she admitted she hasn’t got the right pan anyway! I’ve brought another pudding, and I noticed the off-licence was still open”

“It would be open, this early in the evening”

“That was a hint, woman. Obviously too subtle for these biker types!”

I took the hint, as well as the order, and on my return, Ruth was showing Kim how to use a wooden mallet on some of the pork steaks I had picked up. I left them to it, feeling a lot more relaxed about my house guest, only looking into what seemed no longer to be my kitchen as Kim banged, breaded and cooked pork escalopes with a creamy mushroom sauce, with skin-on potato wedges deep-fried, and a simple mix of peas and sweetcorn from the freezer. The pudding turned out to be cheesecake, and together with the beers I had picked up at the offie it was a more than satisfying little feast. Ruth was as pragmatic as ever.

“She’s been after doing that dish for ages, Deb”

Kim was smiling.

“First thing I ever ate from you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but pork needs cooking thoroughly, or it can be dangerous. Not like beef or lamb. Didn’t want to risk losing my gofer, did I? Anyway, Deb?”

“Yes, love?”

“Our Kim here tells me you have a plan for the weekend. What do you have in mind?”

“Two things, really. A choice, in fact. I have two things I love doing--- Ruth, that was disgusting. How old are you? Get her some kitchen roll, Kim”

As the older woman wiped the beer from her chin, I laid out my plans.

“Choice of evils, girl, or delights, depending on what you think. First one is a rally; there’s one out by Cowbridge, not far from the pub we went to, with the open fire”

“Rally?”

“Biker camping weekend. Loud music, loads of booze, lots of people like me and Rosie there”

Ruth was nodding.

“And a distinct lack of decent food. Cheeseburger, or burger with cheese, or a bun holding cheese and a burger, or…”

Kim started singing softly.

“Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam---”

“Oh shut up! You and Python! Anyway, the other option is also camping. Up in the mountains. Bit of a ride, but it’s a lovely spot”

“Do you mean by Snowdon?”

“That area, yes”

“Never been there. Just seen the pictures, and it looks lovely”

Ruth was still digging.

“You know what they say, Kim, about Snowdonia?”

“What?”

“The mountains are beautiful. If you can’t see them, it’s because it’s raining. If you CAN see them, it’s about to start raining”

The rest of the evening carried on in the same silly manner, but Kim’s decision should have been predictable. She didn’t really want to spend a whole weekend stuck in a crowd, especially if a lot of them were going to be drunk.

She had never seen the mountains, and really wanted to.

The waterproof top and gaiters I had found for her needed testing.

The last reason, the main one, only came out when Ruth had left us for her own flat: the chances of her meeting someone who knew ‘Barry’ would be much lower on a mountain campsite. There was logic there, her earlier panic almost forgotten in a mess of breadcrumbs and sliced mushrooms, and I found myself relaxing again, with the exception of a small inner voice asking me how I would cope with more than one guest if the single person I now had was leaving me so fretful.

The weekend was a long one, as the shift pattern left me finishing work on Thursday evening and not due back till two on Tuesday afternoon. I managed to get the tent and two sleeping bags onto the rear carrier, along with two lightweight blow-up mats. Th rest of our kit was distributed around the two throwover panniers and a tank bag, and by nine in the Friday morning we were rolling. I had some old stretchy walking trousers, a bit like thick tracksuit bottoms, that just about fitted Kim, when the waist drawstring was pulled tight, and she surprised me by insisting on taking some make-up in the small Karrimor rucksack she was using. Once on the bike, I told her to slacken the shoulder straps so that the base of the rucksack sat on the luggage behind her, and so spared her shoulders from strain as well as avoiding having her head forced forward by the pressure of the bag on the back of her helmet.

I didn’t push it on the roads out of the city, but I did let it out a bit when we hit the M4, and for once there was no side wind as we crossed the big bridge. I could feel Kim moving around on the pillion as she did her own tourist rubbernecking, so I was even more grateful for the lack of buffeting. Off by Worcester, I took a slightly different route up the A449 to Kidderminster, Bromsgrove and then the place of my rebirth. There were some services as we joined the A5, and I took a break there to top up on some fluids after disposing of a different one

I sat with Kim in a corner of the chain café there, disposing of a cafetiere of half-decent coffee and doing my best to explain how my life had changed only a couple of miles away.

“That’s what I meant, what Nita meant, love. Paying it forward. I saw you in that pile of wet cardboard, and I saw myself. This place will always be special to me”

That brought a grin.

“I don’t think it’ll be like that for me, with that alley. Are you going through the town?”

“Not this time, love. Used to, before this bypass was built, but we’ve still got some way to go. Get some miles behind us. You doing OK so far?”

Another grin.

“That bridge was ace!”

“Well, there’s better stuff to come. When we get a lot closer, I’ll pull over, if the weather stays fine. There’s a particular view I want to show you”

Off we went again, skirting Shrewsbury before the reasonably quick roads through to Oswestry, Chirk and its aqueduct and then the twistiness I always enjoyed as we entered Wales again. I hit the same spot Dad had shown me, pulling in by the Geeler Arms, and staying on the bike as I pointed out all the hills, for once uncovered under a blue sky. I managed to spot Tryfan, and once I was certain Kim knew which lump it was, I patted her knee.

“That’s our campsite, girl. Right at the foot. Ready?”

She didn’t stop squirming all the way to the gateway, so I stopped at the entrance and asked her to get off, as I really didn’t want to drop the bike on the cattle grid. I pointed out my favourite ‘convenient rock’ and asked her to walk over to it as I rolled slowly over the grid and along the gravel track.

To my gratification, there was a familiar orange ridge tent there, unoccupied for the time being, and I quickly checked for the associated parked car. Yup. I pulled up in front of the farmhouse wall, and set the bike on its sidestand after stepping off, stretching my back to ease the kinks.

A small figure was emerging from the side door, tweed jacket and flat cap as unchanged as the surrounding hills, and I waved hello, getting a smile in return.

“Croeso, Deb! Spotted her tent? She’s off up Dafydd today, she said”

“Thanks, Mr Williams. Brought another friend with me this time”

“She sensible?”

“She will be. First time here for her, isn’t it? Won’t be taking her anywhere difficult”

“Well, you pitch your tent. Pat has plans for tonight. I think we can squeeze you in. What’s your friend’s name?”

“Kim”

“Skinny thing. She’s not sick?”

“Not now. Just recovered from some nasties, not far off pneumonia, so I am really glad we’ve got weather like this”

He nodded.

“Aye. Pitch your tent, then; you know where things are. I would eat early, ah?”

He ambled off, and I settled down to getting our camp just so, tent up, bags lofting and a pan of water on the stove as I left Kim to do the lung-work on the air beds.

“Why me?”

“Good for your lungs, girl! Ah. I can see my friend coming, in the powder-blue T-shirt. Quick bit of advice, Kim: what you tell her about yourself is up to you, but she is someone you can trust. I am telling her nothing beyond your name; the rest is up to you. If you want to stay my cousin, that’ll be fine”

I stuck my arm up above my head, waving to Pat, and she stopped dead, hands on hips, then flung her arms wide in welcome. A minute later and she was hugging me hello as the pan rose to a boil and she produced the lid from her thermos with a wink.

“Kim, Pat here will drink tea until it leaks out of her ears. Pat, this is Kim, who is staying with me. Kim, this is my old friend Pat. If you ever want to know about the hills round here, she’s the one to ask”

“Hiya, Kim! What are you doing with Debbie? College?”

The younger woman bowed her head, her reply low, and barely audible.

“Hiding from my Dad”

“Right… Kim?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t need to know anything else, OK? Tell me what you want, when you want to. When you’re ready. Debbie?”

“Yeah?”

“You warm my heart, love, always. Now, we need to eat. I’ve got plans, and I can include you two, if you want. Got your usual mix of food?”

“Rice and stew? You know me so well. Mix and match?”

“As always. Oh, and I succumbed. I’ve bought a bigger stove, a double burner. Want to give me a hand setting it up, Kim? While Debbie does the brews?”

It was obvious what she was offering Kim, and that was a chance to say anything she might not want to do in front of me, and yet again I marvelled at the depth of Pat’s generosity. They muttered away for a while, and then Kim started laughing.

“Debbie?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s music on in Bethesda tonight, Pat says, and she’s offered to drive the farmer and his missus down so he can have a pint. Room for us, she says”

“So what’s the joke?”

“Remember telling me about that time at that folk club in Cardiff? This is a folk club as well, and Pat doesn’t know what language it will be in!”

CHAPTER 18
Our early evening meal was just as I had grown used to with my old friend, but it was made so much easier with her new double-burner stove. We had the usual mix of a couple of tins of stew, perked up with the addition of curry powder and a tin each of sweetcorn and button mushrooms, served over some reconstituted ‘savoury rice’ and some plain pitta bread to wipe out our bowls. That sounds boring, but there is something about being outdoors that always gives me an appetite, and the mixture was tasty and filling. I caught Kim smiling to herself.

“What’s tickling you, love?”

“Just imagining what Ruth would think of this, Debbie”

Pat looked up from her own bowl.

“Who’s Ruth?”

“Ah, just around the corner from me. She has a café, nothing too pretentious, but what she does, she does well. This one’s helping out a couple of days a week”

“You’re smiling, Debbie. What’s Kim done?”

“Ah, it’s not that. She cooked for us the other evening, and Ruth only came round to make sure she did it properly! Got her feet well under the table, has Kim here”

Pat turned her attention to the younger woman.

“You going to be OK with folk music, love? You don’t have to come tonight if it’s not your thing”

“Debbie’s been playing me some. She’s got a really big collection”

“I had good teachers, love”

Pat looked at me rather wistfully.

“Yeah, you did indeed. Anyway, Kim thought you might be worried about it all being in Welsh. Apparently, they’ve got a guest this week, and he’s from Manchester, so it won’t all be in Welsh. He’s called Andy Surtees; I’ve heard him before, and he’s not bad. You two about ready? Put you in the front seat, Deb, as you’re the biggest”

We washed up, and then Kim scuttled into the tent to change, to my surprise returning wearing one of her new dresses, which she had clearly managed to squeeze into her little rucksack. She had added a few touches of make-up, and Pat snorted on seeing her. Kim’s face fell, and Pat shook her head.

“Not laughing at you, Kim! Just wondering how you can be related to someone who thinks the height of elegance is a leather jacket and army boots!”

She led us to the car, delegating Kim to knock on the farmhouse door, and as we settled into our seats, simply said, “Same thing as when I met you, Debbie. You didn’t look like your Mam and Dad, and she doesn’t look anything like you. Tell me when and if you want, OK? I won’t pry, and I know you well enough not to judge. She’s been hurt, I think. Smiling now, though, so I’ll leave it there”

She looked over her shoulder.

“Here they come. You happy telling us all the story about the Welsh singer?”

No, not really, but I could see why she asked. It would ‘explain’ what we were discussing without Kim, for she would certainly have seen that we were talking. Mrs Williams took the middle seat, her husband behind me as Kim squeezed into the remaining place before the wriggling dance of three people trying to fasten seat belts without someone getting walloped. Pat picked up seamlessly.

“Debbie was just about to tell me about that other folk night. Deb?”

I gave them a simplified and sanitised account of the debacle with Frank, getting the occasional laugh and muttered remark in Welsh, one of which sounded like something the baker had said.

“What was that, Mr Williams? I think Frank said something that sounded like what you just said”

“I said you must learn Welsh, ah? You don’t have the excuse of being hwntw; you’re off Fflint, na?”

Mrs Williams picked up the thread.

“You not with him now, then?”

“Didn’t work out. He got married a long time back, anyway”

'And I can’t, ever, unless it were to be to a woman' was a surprisingly sharp thought. What would they think of me, if they knew what I really was? Stop it, woman. Music. Beer. Kid to look after.

The floor spots were more than adequate, the main act was more than that, as Surtees was superb at pulling emotion from a song so that it almost became another person in the room. I had beer, Kim had coke, as did Pat, and Mr and Mrs Williams restricted themselves to a couple of drinks each. I could understand that, as to a farmer EVERY day is a working day, especially when said farm is on open mountain slopes going up more than three thousand feet. I didn’t go silly myself, as I anticipated that Pat might have Ideas for the following day that would be helped by a clear head.

Pat drove us all back, after the Williams had treated us all to a bag of chips each, and the ride back was enlivened by the smell of vinegar, until Pat parked up at the head of the pass in order to eat her portion and let us enjoy the light of the risen moon across the ripples of Llyn Ogwen. We turned into the farm a few minutes after that, and said our goodnights before settling down in our tents.

I was woken at about three o’clock by a shaking from the bag next to me, realising it was Kim doing her best not to wake me as she wept. I rolled over to wrap her in my arms, whispering into her ear.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing”

“Bollocks. People don’t cry for no reason”

She was silent for a few seconds, with little tremors as she fought back the tears.

“It’s just they’re all being so nice to me!”

“Why wouldn’t they, love? It would have been the same at the rally, you know”

“Yeah, I know. You wouldn’t have offered me the trip if they were going to be nasty. But… But I could have had this, all this, years ago, if Dad hadn’t been such a bastard, Mam as well. It’s just not fair!”

Bloody teenage clichés.

“Is it fair now? Fairer?”

“Yeah, course”

“Then it’s carpe bloody diem, love”

I started to sing to her, a song that held so many memories, keeping my voice as low as I could while allowing enough volume to set the melody free.

“Come my own one, come my fair one…”

I murmured the song to her as she snuggled back into my embrace, and by the time I was telling the world that I didn’t give a pin what it thought of me, she was breathing gently in a deep slumber. I followed suit a little while later, and when I awoke with the brightness of dawn, my arm stayed asleep for a few minutes longer.

“You awake, Kim?”

“Yeah. Sorry about last night”

“Don’t worry about it. Now, we need to move, so you can see the sunrise on the hills”

She wriggled a bit, and after I slipped out to relieve my morning pressures, she stopped partway, staring at the gilded bulk of Tryfan in absolute wonder.

“Wow! That’s gorgeous!”

“What we’re here for, love. I think Pat’s already up; her fly sheet’s tied back”

She was indeed, and our paths crossed as I made my urgent way to the toilet block. Once back, we set about making a campers’ breakfast of egg-and-bacon sandwiches, taken with several mugs of tea.

“What we got today, Pat?”

“I was thinking of Y Garn, Debbie. North-east ridge. Not too narrow, and plenty to see for a newbie without scaring her too much. See how strong she feels, and if she decides she’s not up to it, we can cut across back to the path around Idwal. Still a good walk, that. Even if it’s low down, and she can gawp at the loonies on the Slabs”

I agreed with her choice, as Crib Goch or one of the other narrow ridges would have been overkill indeed for a first timer, and I was a little worried about Kim’s endurance and fitness. In the end, it went well, Pat parking up by the snack bar and leading us across the first wooden bridge on the path to the gate at the lake, where we turned right for the approach to the steeper bit. Kim was exactly as she had been on my pillion, twisting her neck in all directions so that she could take in the splendour of the Cwm. Her fitness wasn’t wonderful, but it was overridden by her determination, and after some quailing and gentle encouragement, she made it around the long loop of the ridge to the final pull up to the wind shelter on the summit.

Pat did her usual trick of pulling out a couple of flasks of tea, along with some cereal bars, and I added the chocolate I had sneakily bought while the other two had made a last-minute visit to the car-park toilets. Pat began the ritual of naming every peak in sight, because the view from our own summit is amazingly wide, and that day it was clear enough to see as far as the Isle of Man.

“Which one’s Snowdon, Pat?”

She swept her arm along the bulk that stretched from Crib Goch to Crib y Ddysgl.

“All of that is what they call Snowdon, Kim. Can you see that triangular peak poking out from behind the biggest lump?”

“Yeah”

“That’s the actual summit. It’s called Yr Wyddfa in Welsh, The Burial Mound. Grave of a giant called Rhita”

“I wish I had a camera…”

Pat laughed out loud.

“How I remember that day! Kim, I brought Debbie up here for her first time, or rather up those hills over there, and we came down… Debbie?”

“Yes?”

“Remember that bit over there? You called it the football field”

“You have a better memory than me, Pat!”

“Maybe… anyway, Kim, all Debbie had was an Instamatic, tiny little lens, cheap thing. Whereas I had…”

She pulled out her well-used SLR, as I grinned and produced my own compact autofocus 35mm job.

“Kim, she takes great pictures, but by the time she has that thing set up, whatever’s happening has happened and gone home to write postcards. I can let you use this, but it might be better if I do the snapping. Pat? You offering the same?”

“Of course. Kim, just tell me what you want snapped, and I can send you prints. I know Deb’s address, so no problem for me. Hang on’ someone’s coming up from the Kitchen path. Fancy a group shot, Kim?”

“If you could”

“Hang on… Morning, my friend! Gorgeous day for it!”

The new arrival looked about seventy, lean as a whip and tanned a deep brown, a larger pack than any of ours on his back.

“Don’t get many better, pet! Which way have you come?”

“Ah, just up the north-east ridge, then back down by the Kitchen. First time out for Kim here”

“Nice walk! You enjoy that, lass?”

Kim looked to me for reassurance, and I could almost read her mind. Stranger. Man. Danger.

I gave her a little nod of reassurance, and she smiled at him, perhaps with a little uncertainty.

“Yeah. Made me puff coming uphill, and it’s really narrow”

He laughed happily.

“Get them to take you along the Horseshoe, pet! That’ll wake you up!”

I mock-frowned at him.

“I want her coming back up, mate, not scared out of ten years’ growth! Where’ve you been?”

“Ah, I started out at Aber, yesterday. Done all the Threes on that side of The Valley, then kipped by the reservoir. CEGB road, North Ridge, Bristly and then along to here. I’ll contour round after Foel Goch, tick Elidir, then it's down to the Pass and bivvy by the Boulders. Horseshoe tomorrow”

Pat laughed at that recital.

“So you’re not going for the record, then? Kim, this chap is doing every three thousand foot mountain in Wales, but the sensible way”

Our new friend laughed in turn.

“Not that my knees will think so afterwards!”

He looked at the three of us, spotting our cameras.

“Group photo? Let the lass remember her first time?”

Pat roared this time.

“You already knew we were going to ask, didn’t you?”

He nodded, and she turned to Kim.

“There are fourteen mountains over three thousand feet high in Wales, Kim. This is your first one. Now, which way do you want your photo facing?”

“Could you do it a few different ways, Mister? The views are good all round”

“No problem, pet. I know what your problem is now”

“What?”

“You don’t want to go back down, do you?”

She smiled, far more naturally now, and shook her head.

“Which way are you taking her?”

Pat pointed down towards the Slabs.

“Kitchen path, then down through Idwal”

“Where are you staying?”

“Little Willy’s”

“Day like this, why not see what her legs are like, and do the Glyders? Miner’s Path back across the South Col and down past Bochlwyd? Or reverse Bristly Ridge?”

That brought my own laugh.

“And phrases about ‘that for a game of soldiers’, butt! First day, aye? Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you see the ridge over there, the one we’re camped behind?

“Yes”

“See that spiky ridge to the right of it? After the big dip?”

“Um, yeah… Is THAT Bristly Ridge? No way!”

The old gent started chuckling and then, after a series of photos and a round of handshakes, he was striding off towards the North-West.

Pat stood up again, holding her camera.

“I want you two to try something for me. Not difficult; just stay behind me. I’m going to be turning, and see if I can get a panorama in”

Kim and I did as instructed, as Pat turned little by little on the spot, clicking away, and then we picked up our sacks and started the descent to the big ladder stiles over the wire fence. Once down by the Dog Lakes, Pat looked at Kim, saying nothing but raising her eyebrows. The girl grinned happily.

“Yeah! Let’s do it!”

She wasn’t quite so enthusiastic by the time we got to the shallow scree-filled gully that led up onto Glyder Fawr, but we took our time, and she was up, and once we were onto the flatter tops, she found more energy. Past all the places Pat had shown me, with the traditional climb of both of the lumps on Glyder Fawr ‘just to be sure’, past the Castle of the Winds, pose for photos on the Cantilever, a quick shudder at a look down Bristly Ridge, and then the draggy bit through the boulder field to the little lake and the start of the descent down the Miners’ Path. We still had water left, so had a pause sitting against the wall that crosses the South Col, before Pat eased herself erect.

“Debbie, you know this bit more than well. You two amble down past Cwm Tryfan, and I’ll drop down to Idwal for the car. Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“You look shattered. The rest of this bit is an easy walk, so you go with Debbie. It’s all downhill either way, but we don’t all need to go for the car. Want a Mars Bar?”

So easily pleased, these youngsters. Pat was halfway up the ladder stile when she turned back to us.

“The stove’s under the fly sheet. Tea will be good!”

Off we went, passing through a flock of goats on one of the flatter sections, before cutting under the great sweep of dry slab above the campsite, where we sat for a while watching rather a lot of climbers. I was watching Kim as well, just to be sure we hadn’t done too much, and as I did so I caught a slight movement of her mouth as her lips parted and just the tip of her tongue touched the upper one. I turned to see where she was looking, and there was a remarkably fit-looking young man, wearing nothing but shorts and rock boots, swinging unroped up the slab, the muscles of his back and arms standing out against the grey-brown rock.

“Kim?”

“Ummm?”

“You’re a straight girl, then?”

CHAPTER 19
Kim jerked at my words, turning her face to me with a look of obvious fear, shaded with guilt.

“What do you mean?”

“He looks really fit, that lad, doesn’t he?”

“Who?”

She obviously wanted to avoid the subject, and we were only a short walk from our kettle and mugs, so I decided to leave her dogs sleeping, whatever they were.

“Come on, girl. I can see the tent from here. Get in and get those boots off your feet and the rest of you around a cuppa”

I rose from my seat on the low ridge of rock facing the climbers’ playground and tugged Kim to her feet, eliciting a groan from her as she straightened.

“Oh my legs!”

I grinned at her.

“No false promises from me, love! You will ache tomorrow, so I suspect it will be an easy day for us. I’ll drop a hint to Pat, and if she fancies the hills, I’ll take you over to Anglesey. Do you mind filling the kettle when we get down, and I’ll get the stove sorted?”

Over the little ladder stile, Kim grunting at each step, and a slow trudge past the side of the farmhouse. As we approached the tents, I warned her not to pull her boots off until she had filled said kettle. I hauled one of the sleeping mats out of the tent, and after I had set the kettle on the heat, I helped her off with her boots as she flopped back onto her back, eyes closed, a sigh of relief bursting free.

“Debbie?”

“Yes, love?”

“I need some better tits. The amount of sweating I’ve done today, the rice will be bloody sprouting!”

“Was it a good day, then?”

She grinned, but it wasn’t entirely sincere, so I left her to her thoughts until she could be ready and able to talk. It didn’t take long.

“Debbie?”

“Yup?”

“There’s nobody about, is there? Safe to talk?2

“I believe so, love. What is it?”

“What you said. About me being straight, that is. It just seems odd to put it that way. Still getting used to being me, being sort of real. Dad caught me a couple of times… There was this lad, at school…”

“You don’t have to talk now, Kim love”

“I need to get it out, don’t I?”

“Was he a nice boy?”

“No. Not at all. But he was gorgeous, and… And a girl can look, can’t she? But Dad saw me looking a couple of times, and that scar, the one just below my left armpit, that’s where the buckle caught me when he went that bit further one day. Sorry if I was rude. I mean, if there’s anyone I can trust…”

The tears were back, welling up and rolling down each side of her face, so I found some tissues to wipe, which led to a hug, of course, and then Pat’s car was there, tyres crunching over the gravel. The kettle was bubbling away, so it was brave faces for both of us as Kim rolled onto her stomach to hide any traces of her distress.

Pat had two camping chairs with her (“Always come prepared since we met, Deb”), and I settled onto my usual convenient little rock once the tea was poured. Pat was utterly relaxed, eyes closed as she lay back in her chair, and sighing happily as she sipped her tea.

“What do you fancy for tonight, girls? I am too knackered to cook, so if you want, I can run you down to Capel and we can grab a meal in the Bryn. You up for another hill day tomorrow, Kim?”

“Um, maybe not, Pat, if you don’t mind”

That brought a yelp of laughter from the older woman.

“I should bloody well think not, girl! That was a really hard day for anyone, never mind a complete beginner! What do you fancy for tomorrow, then? Honestly?”

“Debbie said something about the island…”

“Birdwatching?”

“Yeah… Deb’s shown me a few things. Would be nice”

“Debbie?”

“Yes, Pat?”

“South Stack or Newborough?”

“You’d be driving, butt”

“Then it’s Newborough, after a stop at Llanfairbloodysilly, Malltraeth and South Stack. They’ve got a camera at Twr Elen now”

Kim perked up.

“A camera?”

“Nest camera. Peregrines”

“Oh wow!”

“Got your cossie?”

Crash and burn, yet again, and Pat noticed. Another sigh.

“There’s nobody close by, girls. I think it’s time for that talk we’ve been putting off. You OK with that. Debbie?”

She was right. I reached out for Kim’s hand in reassurance.

“If Kim is, Pat. Her story, her choice. Kim?”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to say a few things here, things about me. Some of them, Pat already knows. I don’t want to take away from your stuff; I just think if I set out my stall, it might make stuff easier for your bit. You OK with that?”

She nodded, and I dove in.

“Pat met me when I was with Mam and Dad. They were people who found me when I was living rough. NO! Shush; just listen for now”

Pat ‘s full attention was on me now, as well as Kim’s.

“Pat said it, when we first met. I didn’t look like my parents, and that’s because they were my Mam and Dad, not my mother and father. My father was fond of the belt. I ended up in a home, and it was a nasty one. Please, Pat. Not a word, just while I get this out. Some of the people who worked in that home moved on to another place, that hellhole in Carlisle. I escaped. Not soon enough, but not too late, if you see what I mean. That’s all I am going to say. What you choose to say is your choice, Kim, and I only said all that because I trust Pat, and I think she’s put a few things together already. Am I right, my friend?”

Pat nodded, then softened her face into the gentlest of smiles for Kim.

“I think I need to say a couple of things as well, Kim. No danger from me, OK? I’ve just noticed some things, and I understand, I think, what your worry is about swimming. I saw the marks around your shoulders when you were in the washroom yesterday, and I will leave it there. I also think… I think you’ve not really been yourself in public, not for long. If you want, we can find you a swimming costume in Bethesda; I know a shop. End of my probing, apart from one question. Debbie?”

“Yes?”

“We likely to get any official worries?”

“No. Kim is with me with local council approval, sort of. Got some tame coppers and the social services”

I looked back at my little girl.

“Better than that place I found you, aye?”

That brought a grin, finally, and Kim’s next question brought the reassurance I sought.

“How cold is the water, Pat?”

“Ummmmm… bracing is the word, I think”

The meal in the Bryn Tyrch was excellent, the clientele mixed and I was pleased to see several obvious locals at the bar rather than an exclusively foreign clientele. Pat was busy saying hello to several, including a man she explained was a local shepherd, a thin man in a woolly hat whose English consisted largely of odd sighs and sniffs, Pat explaining later that his English wasn’t that good. There were motorcyclists, NOT bikers, talking loudly about engine sizes and Powervalve Yamahas, climbers having their odd conversations consisting largely of arm-waving as they re-enacted the moves they had made on whatever silly bit of verticality they had been playing on, a few singletons, including a man with red hair in a ponytail who spent what seemed like the whole evening staring at his succession of pint glasses, and a familiar looking young man in a group of other lads and girls of around the same age. I whispered to Kim.

“Still as fanciable with all his clothes on, love?”

My worries were eased when she smiled, saying “Fuck, yeah!”

Thank god.

Another wonderful sunrise, another campers’ special breakfast (how much bacon had Pat loaded into her car?), and then off along the A5, Pat announcing at the Bethesda stop that our itinerary would be reversed. We found a one-piece costume in Kim’s size, as well as one for me, and then we barrelled along the main road to Holyhead and the cliffs of South Stack.

Three sorts of auk. Chough. Peregrines on their nest, visible by peeking over a low wall by Ellen’s Tower. Seals below the cliffs. All sorts of waders and ducks at Malltraeth. Orchids and a grasshopper warbler at Newborough. That incredible stretch of beach, Pat repeating her peak-naming for Kim before we all changed and took the plunge into the SODDING HELL IT’S FREEZING bracing waters, Kim’s breasts left on the beach wrapped in her clothes after yet another hug of reassurance from Pat.

A wonderful day.

We stopped in Bethesda on the way back, for something nice for our evening meal, which we shared around our tents, the shadow of Tryfan gradually moving over the campsite as we cooked, laughed and ate.

As the darkness set in, Kim and I retired to our tent, and as I settled into my bag, I heard her whisper.

“Could you hold me please, Debbie?”

I moved over so we could spoon.

“Thank you, Deb. You know so many good people. Makes me feel safer”

She paused, and I could feel tension in her shoulders.

“Debbie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Could you sing to me? Please?”

CHAPTER 20
The bike ran sweetly as we swept over the Severn Bridge, that wind once more surprising me by its absence, Kim sitting in a far more relaxed way on the pillion, and then we were pulling up behind what was now our house. Luggage in, a quick shower each, using both bathrooms, and then I pulled the tent out of its bag to hang from the shower head to dry out. All of our used clothing went into the washing machine, and then we walked the short distance to Ruth’s place for something nice.

“Special tonight is sausage and mash, girls. How was the camping?”

Kim grinned.

“Magic! I don’t think my legs will be working properly for a few days, though!”

“You’ve caught the sun, love. Panda eyes!”

“What?”

“You’ve had sunglasses on, so the skin round your eyes is still white. Bit of cream on your nose would be a good idea. What did you do?”

“Debbie had an old friend staying there as well, and we did all the big mountains round us, and we did birdwatching, and we went swimming in the sea!”

Ruth snorted at the last.

“Too bloody cold for me, isn’t it? Anyway, you had someone asking after you, Debbie, and I smell copper”

“Man or woman? Get a name?”

“Woman. Said she was called Anita, asked if you could call her. Something about having trade for you, so I am absolutely NOT going to ask what she meant”

I had a really good idea what Anita had meant, and as Kim glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, I guessed that she had also worked it out. She kept off the subject until we were back home, and then walked into the hallway for a few seconds.

“Building work, Debbie. Remember?”

“Yeah. You said you had someone you knew?2

“Sparky. That was who. Told me a few things before I got sick. Letting me know he wasn’t dangerous, I think. His old job, it was”

“Royal Marine, I hear. How’s that help?”

“Combat engineer, he said, then he was a builder, until, well, all the work went. Lost his business. Not really fond of banks”

She laughed, showing how well she was healing. I silently gave thanks for Pat and Ruth, before asking what was funny.

“It’s you and him, Debbie! Both the same, isn’t it? I mention banks to him, coppers to you, and you both growl. Anyway, fancy doing a tea run this evening? Weather’s not bad, but be nice to show them we’re still here, as well as having a word with Sparky”

I cocked my head to the side, picking up on her words.

“You said ‘we’, Kim”

Her expression serious, she nodded sharply.

“Yes. Done a lot of thinking over the weekend. Watched you and Pat, listened a lot to her, way she sees the world. Don’t know where I’ll be in a couple of years, when I get to eighteen or whenever. I just think I feel right being here. Time I did some of that paying forward stuff”

There was a flicker of uncertainty in her expression, so I smiled back at her, easing her obvious worry about getting things wrong. So nervous, but fighting so hard for life.

“You going as biker bitch, girly girl or intrepid mountaineer, love?”

That brought a laugh, as I had hoped.

“Bathing beauty would be a bit over the top, isn’t it? Biker bitch, so we can match, I think. And I am not climbing in and out of a van in a skirt!”

We sorted the van, with the urn filled and secured, loaded tea and the essentials, and set off just as the light was starting to go. I parked up in one of my usual spots, and we soon had a steady flow of people enjoying a hot drink, as well as some of the biscuits Kim had bought in our corner shop. I passed the word that I would like a word with Sparky if he was about, and twenty minutes later he was by the van, a broad smile on his face and a fierce hug of welcome to me. He released me, then offered his embrace to Kim.

“You are doing bloody well, Kimberley! I hear you’ve been trying to poison people in some café or other”

Her recovering strength showed once more, as she pushed back at his quip.

“Didn’t trust me, did she? I went to cook Debbie a meal, and Ruth sneaks in and takes over! Anyway, never really said thank you, did I? To you, that is?”

“No need, love. It’s what folk do, or what they should do”

“Always right to say thanks, Sparky. Anyway, Debbie has an offer for you I thought you could do with”

He looked at me, shaking his head.

“No charity, Deb. Apart from the tea, that is”

“Not charity at all, Sparky. Got a job of work I need doing. Kim says you were a builder”

“Oh?”

“I’m joining two houses together, terraced ones. Need some doors hanging, and one putting through the dividing wall. Sound like your sort of work?”

“I’d need a look at it before I could say, girl”

“How about now?”

He looked around him in a very obvious way.

“Well, I seem to be free at the moment… Yeah. Go on”

“I can shout you a bed…”

He was shaking his head vigorously before I had finished.

“No ta. I’ll bring my doss bag, if you don’t mind. I don’t sleep indoors anymore”

“Can I ask why?”

His eyes screwed up as his mouth twisted.

“Fire, Deb. Confined spaces, mates and fire. Leave it there, please”

He was right: I didn’t really want to know any more than that, and I really wished I hadn’t asked. Shit.

“Grab your stuff, then, and we’ll be off”

He insisted on riding in the back of the van, and once we were home, he ran an obviously practised eye over the doorframes and the cupboard.

“The kitchen doors will be easy. The walls are solid, no plasterboard stuff but structural, I can replace the frames with something more substantial with no problems. The connecting door’s going to be a bit harder, and I’ll need to fit an RSJ in as a lintel. Um, a steel girder thing. I’ll want a couple of jacks. They can be hired. You’ll need…”

He rattled off a list of items, as well as the places we could find them, and then Kim held up a hand.

“Sparky?”

“Yes love?”

“I know why you wanted to ride in the back of the van”

“Really?”

“Yes. I know you don’t want a bed, but would you like a bath? And some laundry doing? Like your doss bag?”

He stared hard at herm before asking what he was supposed to sleep in that night.

“I’ve got a sleeping bag you can use. I mean, Debbie bought it for me, and we have some sleeping mats, and there’s space out the back we can rig a tarp over for any rain. Don’t look at me like that1 I’ve just been listening, and if you do this work, you’ll need to be staying around while it’s going on. Want a bath, and some laundry?”

I saw him relaxing, and then he turned to me with his grin back in place.

2You are some sort of bloody miracle worker, Debbie! Can’t sleep in wet clothes, though, can I?”

Kim was still on a roll.

“Thought of that, didn’t I? late-night laundrette on the main road. I can use one of their tumble dryers”

“Bloody hell, trapped! Go on, then”

He took his bath, and it was rather prolonged. We ran what clothes we could through the wash, and Kim slipped off to the laundrette with them once the cycle was finished. Sparky spent a while on the settee wrapped in a couple of blankets until Kim returned, then made his apologies before slipping off with Kim’s sleeping bag to the little shelter I had set up in the back yard.

I dumped his old bag in a skip at one of my delivery site, and picked up two newer ones from the camping and sports aisle in the supermarket. That thing was beyond saving. I had two days off coming up the following week, so we arranged to pick up the equipment and materials he needed, and he hung the two security doors over the break, describing how he would return to them to fit extra security bars once everything was bedded in, or cured, or dried, or whatever the term was. On my next weekend, Kim and I worked as labourers while he settled the girder thing into place before fitting one more very solid door. I was actually astonished at his work rate, and decided to add bankers to the list that held coppers, chap-wearers and horse-faced straights. Here was someone who had talent as well as skill, and a bloody powerful work ethic, and he was sleeping rough while those bastards lived the high life.

We finally finished the whole bloody job on the Sunday afternoon, and I suggested that he and Kim popped around the corner to grab a Chinese takeaway. We would have one last night of silliness and company, working through my music collection, before we retired to our beds and Sparky to his new doss. I was amused to see how insistent Kim was about what she wanted to eat, after her former utter and complete mystification concerning Chinese food. I was still chuckling when I heard them knock on the back door. Thinking they were a bit quick, I opened it automatically, and a punch slammed into my face.

“Where is he, you fucking cow? Where’s my fucking son?”

I caught a reek of booze from his breath, as his blow flung me back against the cooker, where my hand found our cast-iron griddle pan. I got one good swing in, which staggered him, but he kicked out at my leg, taking it away from beneath me, and I fell against the fridge. That is when I saw the baseball bat in his hand, and realised I was dead.

He raised it in both hands, like a batter preparing to receive a ball, and screamed again.

“Where is the little cunt?”

Class, Debbie Wells. Class.

“Fuck off and die, arsehole!”

“Not me going to die, bitch. AAAH!”

That last was preceded by a meaty sound, and he sank to his knees, the bat dropping to the floor, as Sparky took another swing with the length of two-by-four he held, and what was clearly Dearest Daddy Norley fell forward from his knees to sprawl full length at my feet.

“You OK, Deb? You hurt?”

“Thank fuck, Sparky! I don’t know, but fuck, I think… Timing, love Bloody good timing”

“You able to stand up?”

“Don’t know…”

“Have my hand, love. Here”

My leg wasn’t that bad, as he had kicked it away rather than breaking anything. As I hugged my thanks, Kim entered, face white. Her mouth twisted, and then she was fumbling at the waist of the groaning man. I couldn’t see what she was doing until she stood up, her father’s belt in her hands.

“Looking for me, were you?”

Lash.

“Going to sort me out, were you?”

Lash. Lash. Lash.

“Like this?”

She went into a flurry of blows before Sparky pulled her away.

“Enough, love. Debbie, this is a real problem. What do you want me to do with this piece of shit?”

There was a groan from the floor.

“Get the fucking law on you!”

I found myself kneeling next to him, his head pulled up by my handful of his hair, the kitchen knife that had somehow ended up in my other hand pressed against his throat.

“Really? Need to be breathing to do that, you cunt!”

“Debbie…”

“Not now, Sparky. Kim, give him that belt, then grab a couple of bungees from the drawer”

He was trussed up efficiently by Sparky, who rolled him into a sitting position against the base of the cooker. I pressed the point of the knife against his crotch, remembering an arsehole on a train so long ago, his hand on my leg, my blade against his family jewels.

“This is where you are going to meet reality, cunt. Now do I call the filth in to deal with you?”

He smirked, and I pressed a little harder, which took the smile away.

“Na, I don’t think so. I think it’s time for you to meet some of my family”

Rosie and Oily, with three patches, were with me twenty minutes later. They asked to borrow the van, and that was the last I ever saw of Kim’s father.

CHAPTER 21
Sparky and Kim helped me into the living room, and then Sparky went back into the kitchen for a minute, returning with a towel and a bag of frozen peas, which he pressed against my face.

“You are going to have a real shiner tomorrow, woman. Let that chill, and then I want to feel your face. The cold will numb it enough, I think”

“What for?”

“Broken orbit or cheekbone, love. Give it a few minutes…”

The burn of the frozen peas gradually changed to an ache, and I nodded to him to let him know. He quickly ran his fingers over the left side of my face, where Norley’s fist had caught me with real force.

“Can’t feel anything obvious, Deb. Nothing out of line. I think your nose would have gone if he’d caught you there, though. You at work tomorrow?”

“Yeah”

“What were you planning on telling them?2

“I’ll come up with an idea. Anyway, Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“Plates and microwave, girl. Not wasting food”

“What are they going to do with Dad?”

“Don’t know, don’t really care. Rosie will tell us what she can. Food, please! And a cuppa?”

Once she was out of the room, I looked over to Sparky.

“You wondering what I am?”

“If you mean asking how he knew where you and Kim were, yeah. I’m going to have a listen around, see what I can pick up”

“You think one of your… someone else sleeping rough?”

He looked at me for a long time before shaking his head, and not as an answer to my question.

“Debbie, it’s bloody annoying, you know? I read the papers when I can get them, and it’s all black and white. One side is all about skivers, junkies, dole scum, and there’s the other lot talking as if everyone on the streets is a bloody angel. It’s bollocks, all of it. Good and bad, everywhere. Except fucking Tories, of course. I will have a dig, and see who’s been stupid”

“You call them stupid? That’s all?”

He grinned, in a really nasty way.

“With how you went at the bastard, and the way your family were looking at him, stupid is what I meant. Bloody terminally stupid, death wish, isn’t it? I can hear her pouring, so let’s leave it. I’ll hang on here a couple of days, just in case, aye?”

“Please, mate. Can’t do much from work. Sweetness and light for now, then”

We ate and drank in silence, Kim looking nowhere but at her plate, before she made her excuses and headed upstairs. I stared at Sparky for a while, then shook my own head.

“What can I do, butt?”

“Be there for her, Deb. Just keep on being there. I’m off to my bed. See you in the morning?”

“Aye, OK. I’ll be up early for work”

“Cuppa on your way out be good!”

“Cheeky sod. Will do”

I made my own way upstairs, changing into my pyjamas before stopping at Kim’s door, where I could hear her sobbing. I knocked.

“Hiya, love. It’s me. Can I come in?”

“Yeah…”

I opened the door, and she rolled away from me, I assumed to hide her tears.

“Kim?”

“Yes?”

“Budge over. I’m getting in”

Once under the blankets, I spooned her. The words were there for me, lodged in my mind from playing it so many times.

“Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving…”

In no way was I Sandy Denny, nor would I ever be, but after a while Kim started to join in with the chorus, and the time did indeed go, until I caught the faint ringing of my alarm clock from the next room. I managed to extract myself without waking her, and as I did my morning routine in the bathroom, I saw how right Sparky’s prediction had been. My eye was a spectacular picture in purple. Shit.

Dress and a bowl of cereal, slice of toast, cuppa, and another for my friend on the way out. I used an open-face lid to save pressure around my eye and started the Suzuki. Ouch, ouch, ouch all the way to work, and then the gauntlet of questions about the bruising. Finally, I turned to the small group of drivers awaiting their tasking paperwork, trying to look shamefaced.

“Look, it was all my own fault, aye? Had a friend round, and sent him with my cousin to pick up a takeaway. I got the kettle on, sorting stuff from a top cupboard, and they knocked at the back door. Idiot here turns to open it, and I hadn’t shut the cupboard door again. Whack. Nothing dramatic, OK?”

I don’t know whether it was their ingrained sexist ideas of women as clumsy, but they seemed to accept the lie, and my own reputation with a right hook helped that along. I got through the day with minimal aggravation, until I was finally able to ride home and dump the lid. Kim was already in, and preparing mince and onions with a collection of vegetables. Solid and filling, just what I needed. Sparky was already gone, which worried me slightly.

“It’s OK, Debbie. He waited till I was in safe from Ruth’s before he went. Said he had some business he needed to sort”

‘Business’. I remembered how Carl and Rosie used that word. Leave it for now, Wells.

By unspoken agreement, our evening became a quiet one of reading and music, lyrical rather than loud, and to no surprise at all on my part, Kim worked through some of my Sandy Denny discs. At eight o’clock, there was a knock at the back door, Kim leaping to her feet with a little shriek. I waved her back down onto her seat before heading to the door, leaving the light off and once again collecting my chef’s knife as I bent to look through the peephole.

Rosie, alone. I slid back the bolts at the top and bottom before releasing both Yale and mortice locks, appreciating what a good job Sparky had done. I needed to find a way to pay him. Rosie entered, the van parked once more in its usual spot, my friend looking meaningfully at the kettle as I put the knife away, then asking me in a whisper if Kim was OK. I nodded, and once the tea was brewed, I led the way into the front room, announcing Rosie as I entered. She went straight over to Kim for a hug.

“OK, kid?”

“Yeah, sort of. Thank you… What did you do to Dad?”

“Let me get outside this cuppa first. Rockrose and Elf will be down in a bit with my bike, so expect another knock in an hour or so. What’s that I smelled in the kitchen?2

“I did mince and onions and stuff for Debbie”

“Good for you, girl. Deb, that is one amazing shiner!”

“Yeah, walked into a cupboard door, didn’t I?”

“You couldn’t think up a better lie? Ych, suppose simple and close to home is safer”

She drained her mug with obvious appreciation, then looked hard at Kim.

“You want him breathing, kid, or not?”

Kim sat in silence for a few minutes, then shook her head. Rosie’s eyebrows rose a little.

“Really, girl? No?”

Kim started weeping, and I slipped in beside her.

“Not what I meant, Rosie! I mean, yeah, I wished he was dead, whatever, every time he hit me, but…”

She paused, bringing her breathing back under control.

“If he disappeared, or he was found dead, there’d be all sorts of shit for me, for Debbie. I just want him out of my life, to know I don’t have to hide any longer”

Rosie nodded.

“Sensible girl, Kim. Topping a straight gets messy; draws attention. Want to know what we did? He’s still breathing, by the way, at least for now”

I took the bait.

“Do tell, sis”

“Ah, nothing special. Told him we know where he lives—I’ll need that from you, Kim, just in case. Anyway, told him that, then showed him the bottom of one of the quarries up to Taff’s Well. Showed him from the top of the quarry, after Oily had him write a note about how he missed his son, and how ashamed he was about how he’d hurt him. So Oily shoves the note into his pocket, and shows him the edge. I was pissing myself laughing. Oily says ‘Don’t worry, you won’t fall all the way, the rope will catch you, that’s a strong tree I’ve tied it to’. That’s when he pissed his jeans”

I already had a good guess, but I had to ask.

“One end to a tree, then. The other end?”

“Round the fucker’s neck, of course. Gave him a choice, we did. He is either out of Wales in a week, or we say hello again. Last I saw of him, he was setting off to walk back to Ponty. Sparky doing the rounds?”

“Yes. Thinks it was someone sleeping rough”

“Sound. He can let them know to expect a fucking slap, so they might want to relocate in a hurry. More tea in that pot, Debbie?”

By mutual agreement, we changed the subject completely after that set of bombshells. Rosie expressed her appreciation of Sparky’s work, offered a recommendation for someone who could fix us up with a discreet CCTV system, and then rode off with her two sisters.

After calmly discussing murder, and taking Kim’s old address for ease in its performance.

Shit.

I was off on longer runs for that week, so I was left to sort my feelings out in my own space and time, and it was Thursday before I remembered Ruth’s comment. I rang Nita’s office while waiting for the load to be cleared in Carmarthen.

“Nita Harris!”

“Hiya. It’s Debbie Wells”

“Ah. Can you hang on a second, while I shut the office door?”

She was back on the phone quickly.

“What the hell happened, Debbie? Norley senior?”

“Sorry?”

“You are not fooling me, woman, but I will ask no more. I am informed that the father of the missing child that is not staying with you has packed a suitcase and run off to foreign parts, or at least England. Mrs Norley is giving their house back to the local council. I have a very good idea why, but as I am no longer a police officer, I will indeed ask no more. A little bird tells me, however, that he visited his local NHS surgery, where he was treated for what was described to me as a whipping. I do not believe BDSM is really his thing”

I found myself almost snarling.

“My own little bird tells me that the ‘S’ was most definitely his thing, as you put it. He’s gone, then?”

“Yes. That problem seems to have been sorted, and once again, I neither need nor wish to know how or by whom. I’d rather have a living shit moving away than have to deal with a dead one who was stupid enough to hang around. How goes the building work?”

“All done. Nice work, as well”

“Connecting door?”

“All as you suggested, apart from some stuff in the second house. Ruth said something about you having trade for me?”

“Yes. What are you up to this weekend?”

“Off for the two days, then back on three weeks of local runs on Monday”

“Can I come around on Friday evening, then? Tomorrow”

“What do you have for me?”

“Ah, leave it till then, please. I have some horse-trading to do, and one of my colleagues is being a bit of a tit. Friday?”

“OK. I’ll warn Kim”

“It would be good if she could be there. See you tomorrow, then”

I spent the next evening and working day wondering what she was about to hand me, and after briefing Kim, we settled down to fish and chips and something anodyne on the telly. Kim had decided to be girly that evening, I suppose as a flag to Nita and her crew, but she was looking good, some of the hollows under her eyes wiped away as she slowly understood how neatly her father’s presence in her life had ended. Safe, here in our home. Safe, in a dress that suited her. Safe, slumped in an easy chair and watching crap on the glass tit.

Safe.

She still left me to answer the back door when the knock came, though, and I still armed myself before checking through the peephole.

Nita, and someone smaller in a hoody. I stepped back to the knife block to stow the blade, then sprang the locks and bolts.

“Hiya, Nita. What do you think?”

She ran her experienced gaze over Sparky’s work, nodding in appreciation.

“This is good work, love. Who did it?”

“A friend”

“Ah. Can we come in?”

“Of course”

As soon as she was in, I shut and bolted the door.

“Debbie, meet Eleanor. Eleanor, this is the woman I was telling you about. See how strong that door is? This is a safe place. You OK so far?”

The voice was so quiet that I had difficulty hearing the words clearly.

“Yeah. How long am I here for?”

I shrugged.

“Depends on how we get on, and what you’d like. We’ve had tea, fish and chips, aye? You can still smell them, I’m sure. You eaten, Nita?”

“We grabbed a meal before we came out, Debbie. How’s your other guest?”

The girl, or so I assumed from her name, reared up.

“What other guest?”

Nita squeezed her shoulder.

“Nobody to worry about. Safe place, remember?”

I knocked on the inner door to reassure Kim, then led the way in. As Eleanor’s gaze darted round the room, she suddenly locked on Kim, sitting back in the armchair, feet up, the debris of a paper-wrapped fish supper still on the tray resting in her lap. I called over to her.

“Want to say hello, Kim? This is Eleanor”

Slowly, the new arrival pulled back her hood, revealing a crewcut and quite a large nose. That was when Kim made me absolutely proud of her.

“Hiya, Eleanor. This is a good place. Just in case you’re wondering, I used to be called Barry. What room is Nell getting, Debbie?”

CHAPTER 22
I watched the new arrival, and her gaze went straight to Anita, who shrugged in the most obvious of ways before pointing at me.

“Debbie’s house, Eleanor. Her call”

I turned to Kim, smiling as gently as I could manage.

“Upstairs here makes sense. Eleanor?”

Her reaction was delayed, so I asked myself how long she had used that name, at least openly.

“Yeah?”

“Kim and I sleep in this house. I’ve got next door as well, so if you want…”

“Is it safe? Next door, I mean?”

It took me a second before I grasped what she meant, so I smiled again.

“It’s all connected, love. There’s an internal door between the two houses, so you don’t have to go outside. I think, though, that it would probably be best if you sleep on this side for now. Save you getting lost on your own, and it means you’ll have Kim near you if you need anything. Which reminds me: oy, slave!”

Kim caught on immediately, which showed how well she was recovering from the shock we had all been given.

“Yes, O Mistress?”

“Want to take our new friend and put some fresh linen on the spare bed? You can show here where the bathroom and that are. Give us a shout when you’re nearly done, and I’ll make some hoy chocolate. You drink that, Eleanor?”

“Yes please. Um, could you call me Nell, like, er, Kim here did? I like that”

“OK, Nell, Kim will show you the room and that. If you want to stay, take your bag up with you, and you can get your stuff put away properly”

Kim rose, taking her tray and paper debris into the kitchen before returning and offering a hand to pull Nell to her feet, then off upstairs. Anita sat quietly until we heard the footsteps on the first floor, then sighed.

“You sure about another guest so soon, Debbie?”

“I think so, butt. Did you see how Kim reacted? I think it’s what she needs, especially after, you know”

Nita nodded, mouth tight.

“Looking at your face, woman, I can see how shitty it must have been. How bad?”

“The eye? I popped in and saw my GP, and she had a look over it. Nothing too serious, but she wants me to pop over to the hospital for an X-ray, just in case there’s a fracture. I thought I’d been hit by a bloody brick. Hurt like hell, it did”

“Yeah. Lots of rubbish about punches like that, to the face, in bloody films and stuff. Possible damage is enormous. This will sound stupid, but you were lucky. Enough on that, cause there are some things I really don’t need to know. Background on the new arrival?”

“Please”

“Heidi’s lot teed her up for us—er, I hope you don’t mind, and I know it’s you that’s doing all this, but I sort of feel it’s an ‘us’ thing. Anyway, she’s fifteen, sixteen in a couple of months. Came out to one of her teachers, who only went and told her bloody parents. Dad kicked her out, or as he put it, she ran away. Found sitting in a Maccy D’s; staff called the police after she was still there after four hours. SS found a short-term foster placement, and as she is officially a lad, well, you know the process. Lot of bullying, couple of slaps by other boys—you know what I mean---for being a fairy. Heidi overheard someone in her old office talking about it, so she called me, and here we are. She’s from Cwm Parc. I don’t think Daddy will be a problem”

“No other issues with her?”

“None that I know of. Good results at school, so Heidi is looking into a school placement of some kind, let her get her GCSEs done, at least. And I think we might look at doing something similar for that kid who isn’t staying here. I saw the books on the table, Debbie”

For the first time in ages, I was able to speak of Mam with a smile, as I explained where the books had come from, and how we had covered my own educational needs. Nita just sat and listened, before nodding.

“Aye. I saw how determined she was when we met, love. She did so well for you… Change the subject, Harris. Heidi has started the grant process for Eleanor—Nell. You should have some cash coming in. Mind if she calls round to get the paperwork rolling?”

“Cash?”

“Of course. You are operating as a fosterer, in a way, and Social Services pay a support grant for that. And shut up, before you say anything stupid. Who bought Kim’s clothes?”

“Well, she gets her wages from Ruth, so she gets her own”

“I am not going to go anywhere near the law on underage working, Debbie, but who kitted her out before she got her own money? Yeah? You’ll take the money Heidi sorts you, and it’ll help sorting out the other house, food, whatever. Now, I’ve got one last thing, before we hit the kettle for the chocolate: liaison. I have a good idea as to how you got that eye, and another about how it was sorted. I’d like any further ‘sorting’ to be done properly”

“I can look after myself”

“I don’t doubt it, love. I’m not talking about a bodyguard, woman. Just an officer assigned to pick up any worries, like cars coming round too often, people hanging around, so on. One officer only, what we call a SPOC, single point of contact, and no, they won’t have pointy ears. Feet on the stairs, love. Yes or no?”

“I get to meet them first?”

“Of course. Hiya, you two. What do you think, Nell? Suits you, by the way”

I turned in my chair to see the two girls, and of course Kim had given Nell one of her dresses to wear. I felt oddly proud. Nell was smiling a lot more easily, although her head still dropped every so often.

“Kim said I could borrow it until I could get some clothes of my own. Can I do that?”

I nodded at her, mentally sizing her dress and feet.

“Course. We can have a wander around some of the shops tomorrow”

“Yeah, but my hair…”

More memories rose, Mam and Dad passing my haircut off as post-cancer treatment, Rosie and Sam (stab of pain) crowing as it grew out, Rosie advising me to tuck it inside my leather to avoid tangles when I rode.

“I have a trick for that, Nell. I’ll tell you tomorrow. You up for some shopping, Kim?”

“Have to be in the evening; Ruth needs me tomorrow during the day. I know the right places we can go!”

She suddenly grinned.

“And oy, slave yourself! Where’s our hot choccy?”

“I hear and obey, O Mistress!”

As I went into the kitchen to set the kettle going, I could hear Nita begin the process of sorting some basic ground rules with Nell, and found myself smiling once more, despite the odd twinge of pain from the bruising. Kim had clearly found a focus to take her mind away from her bastard of a father, and while I was well past the appropriate age for teenage shopping sprees, I was actually looking forward to it. I had some scarves we could use to cover Mell’s hair, and she could borrow some of Kim’s jeans, as her trainers wouldn’t work with a dress, and, and, and.

Life was looking up once more.

I brought the steaming mugs back into the living room, and after a few moments of pleasant sipping, Nita held her hand up.

“Oh, and one other thing, Debbie. Sarah Powell. Heard of her?”

“Fuck, yeah! Sorry, girls. She’s a trans woman, over in Swansea, got beaten up by a boyfriend, and then…”

I stared at Nita for a moment, before continuing.

“I was going to call them ‘your lot’, Nita, but I don’t really think that would be fair. Anyway, she got more abuse, and then a pay-out. A friend showed me the press reports. What’s with her?”

“Ah, it’s not her, exactly. It’s just that there aren’t a lot of doctors round here with any experience in transgender stuff, but I took a punt and looked up the one she used. He is NHS, so if you girls are happy, I could see if I can get him on side. Call it a duty of care, but it’s also a safety net. One of these days, Heidi’s management will do some sort of audit, and they’ll want to know about cases like this. They’ll want justification. Get an official diagnosis of whatever they call it”

Nell’s voice was almost a whisper.

“Gender identity disorder. I read some stuff in a magazine about it”

Nita was nodding again.

“Thanks, love. Gives me a name for it when I talk to the quack. I can’t guarantee he’ll be able to take you on, but he might know someone else who can. Any questions, Nell?”

Once more, the near-whisper.

“You sure I can stay here? I won’t have to move on again?”

I reached across for her hand, which was damp and trembling.

“You stay as long as you need or want, love. You done, Nita?”

“I believe so. Heidi says she’s free tomorrow morning. That suit?”

“It’ll be fine”

“Great. Expect her about ten, and we’ll get all our balls rolling together. I’ll let you know about the other thing, Deb, but I have someone in mind. See you!”

Once she was gone, I made sure all the locks were in place on the back door before returning to my armchair.

“Right, girls! We need to sort out some odds and sods. I don’t really bother with the telly; that’s Kim’s territory. The music is all mine, because Kim never buys anything”

“Why should I when you already have all the good stuff?”

“Point taken, love! Now, Nell: what do you like? Rock? Blues? Folk? Prog?”

“Um…”

I put on a mock frown.

“If you say ‘disco’, ‘new romantic’ or any bloody boy band, we will fall out!”

“Um… Mahler, Bruckner, Sibelius. That sort of thing. I like orchestral music”

I made a mental note that one thing we needed to buy the next day would be a set of headphones for her.

CHAPTER 23
Kim was off out early the next morning, to help with the breakfast trade, but she promised to be back at one for our shopping trip. She had clearly stirred Nell up, as that girl was the one who knocked on my bedroom door with a morning cuppa.

“Um, Kim said I should…”

“Thanks, love! Kim’s jeans and one of her tees?”

“Yeah, and she lent me…”

A wave at her new bosom was all the info I needed, and I blessed Kim’s foresight and clear thinking. She had really come on in leaps and bounds since our camping trip, and the defining quality was confidence. I wondered how much of that had arrived with each swing of the belt she had laid over her father’s back, but put the thought away quickly. It didn’t matter, in the end, where she found her strength; the important thing was that she had done so, and seemed more than ready to do that ‘paying forward’ I valued.

I sat up, smiling as warmly as I could at our new friend, and took the cup and saucer from her.

“I’ll be down in a few, Nell. What do you do for breakfast, normally? I don’t keep that much in, cause I use Ruth’s place if I want a pig-out, but there’s cereal, jam, bread and that”

I also used Ruth’s café as a way of repaying obs, as Dad had called them, but I’d save that explanation for another day.

“Toast would be nice, Debbie”

“Feel free, then. I am going to take a quick shower, and then we can sort out today’s plan. Off you hop!”

I stayed with my normal jeans and T-shirt rig, which sort of matched Nell’s own outfit, and not long after I had finished my own slices of toast and marmalade, there was a knock at the back door. I shut the internal door and did the usual check before opening the outer one on a smiling Heidi, who I let into the kitchen before locking up again.

“I don’t know what that door is made of, Debbie, but you need to get a bell or something, just to save people’s knuckles. How’s Eleanor?”

“Watching morning telly at the moment. Don’t think she’s that interested, really. Just seems a little more comfortable, not having to talk. A little withdrawn, though Kim seems to be bringing her out of herself a little. She’s at work, be back for a shopping run this afternoon”

“Can we go in?”

“Yeah. I’ll announce you first, OK?”

“I put my head around the door.

“Want to kill the box? Your social services lady is here, to sort out some paperwork. You OK with that?”

She nodded, and hit the off button on the remote. Heidi took a place on the settee before pulling a bundle of files from her briefcase.

“Got the paperwork Nita told you about, Debbie. She said she’d explained the grant system to you, so what I will need is some banking details from you. All routine, really, but I will need some words from Eleanor here”

“Nell”

The girl’s voice was soft, but clear. As Heidi raised an eyebrow in query, she spoke again.

“Kim called me it, and I like it, so can you please use that as well?”

Heidi nodded, smiling at the girl.

“Fine by me. How are you finding this place, then?”

An answering smile appeared, face lowered but eyes looking up from under her brows.

“They’re both being lovely to me, Kim and Debbie. Not like those other places. Kim’s even…”

Once again, she waved at her chest, and Heid’s smile brightened.

“I had noticed, Nell. Debbie says you are going shopping later. Getting some new clothes?”

“I hope so”

“Well, that is partly what my visit is about. We can’t expect Ms Wells here to pay out all the time, so I am sorting funding out. Before I do that, I will need to know, sort of formally, if you want to stay on here. No point in sorting out a grant if not, isn’t it?”

“Um, yeah…”

All the time Heidi and I were speaking, she had her head down, and the only thing she lifted as she spoke herself was her gaze. Not her head, nor her voice. I may have had absolutely no training in headshrinking, but the confidence issues were still clear to me.

“Nell?”

“Yes?”

“Change of subject, but stick with me. When your Mam goes shopping, not a food shop or that, but Going To The Shops, where does she go? You’re a Valleys girl, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, Cwm Parc. Depends on the weather, and who’s driving. Mam just gets the train down here. Dad likes driving, stupid stuff. If it’s him, we’ll come over the tops so he can throw the car around, and go down to Bridgend. I don’t like that”

“What bit? The road, the driving or Bridgend?”

“The driving. Dad thinks he’s in a rally car”

“So… Heidi?”

“Yup?”

“I might go out of town today, down to Newport. Not great for shopping, but if we can get Nell sorted with the basics, less chance of her being recognised by someone. Where has she been staying, and don’t say Newport!”

“No worries, Debbie. She’s mostly been in Bridgend, oddly”

“Right. We have a plan. By the way, I know that road, Nell. I take the bike out there now and again, for fun”

“The motorbike? Never been on one. Dad says they’re a nuisance”

“I am beginning to take a bit of a dislike to your father, love. Anyway, cuppa before you’re done, Heidi?”

“Have to say no, though I’d love one. Got another couple of visits this morning. Now, this form…”

We rattled through the paperwork, after I had grabbed my cheque book for the bank codes, and then Heidi was off, just as I heard the front letterbox bang. I locked up yet again, and then went into the hall, where I could see a small package sitting on the mat. There was an English postmark on it, along with the message “PHOTOS! PLEASE DO NOT BEND”. I had a very good idea what the contents would be, and decided to save its opening for the afternoon. I popped back into the living room.

“Nell?”

“Yeah?”

“You OK if I pop out for a bit? I want a quick word with Ruth, where Kim works”

“I’ll be fine. Could I listen to one of my cassettes while you’re out?”

I paused at the door.

“You’ve got your own music?”

“Got some. Cassettes I took when I left home. Haven’t got anything to play them on”

“You should have said! I have a cassette player in the attic; haven’t used it for years”

It was the one left behind my Mam and Dad, and I had a little spasm of memory, just enough to hurt, but I managed to keep my smile steady.

“Use the stereo for now, and we can dig out the player later. You go and grab your tapes, and I’ll set it up for you”

She was suddenly filled with life, almost sprinting up the stairs for her bag, and I set everything ready to go, cassette drawer open, and as I heard her at the door again I held my hand out ready for whatever she wanted to play first.

It turned out to be something by Sibelius, his third symphony by the label, and I slipped it in and pressed ‘play’. Something about the start caught my attention, as some deep instruments set up a rhythmic beat, then other, higher, instruments began swirling around. I stood listening for a few minutes, as Nell whispered to me that it was a ship coming out of fog in the English Channel, as the sun came out.

“It’s the last bit, Debbie, the ending I love. It’s like a song, a big tune, and you just have to sing along. Thank you. I missed this”

I looked at her properly this time, and her eyes were moist, so I reached out and paused the tape.

“How long is it since you last heard your music, love?”

“Don’t know. Four, five months. Nobody ever let me play it”

Fucking hell’s teeth. I had been worrying about getting her headphones, and all the time she had been without the stuff that was as necessary to me as air or food.

“We sort that out, then. How many tapes have you got?”

“Eight. Three Sibelius, one Bruckner, two Mahler, a Britten and a Beethoven”

“Then we have a family session of your music one night, and you can explain it to us. I should tell you why, love”

I settled down into one of the chairs, pushing the anger down inside me.

“I was a runaway too, love. I ended up in a really bad place, but I managed to get out, and I found my own parents, not the ones I was born to, but ones I loved, and almost the first thing they did was play me music. The stereo there, apart from the CD player, was theirs, ours, as a family, and almost all of the LPs were the same. Stuff I’d never heard of, stuff I fell in love with. Stuff I would never have known existed if it wasn’t…”

My voice cracked just then, so I paused for breath, control, calm.

“Mam and Dad are both gone, so the music is a big part of what I have left of them. If we find something you love, that speaks to all of us, then it’s a win. Carry on doing what Mam and Dad did, OK?”

Deep breath, woman. Not the place for tears, not today.

“What do your parents like?”

“Country and Western…”

“Oh god no!”

“Dad has a Stetson, and cowboy boots, and there’s a club he takes Mam to…”

“Enough! Now, I will be back in a very short time, and then, once Kim’s done, we are off to Newport. If you hear a key in the lock, it will be me or her. If you hear a knock, ignore it. Got me?”

“Got you. Is that because of what happened to your face? Kim told me”

I nodded.

“Nobody gets in that easily again, love. Not if we are sensible”

I let myself out, locking the door with both keys, and walked round to Ruth’s, where Kim was manning the till. The shop was buzzing, and I felt a little guilty about leaving my friend on her own for the afternoon.

“Hiya, Deb! Want a coffee?”

“Please, Ruth”

“There’s a side table over there; grab a seat and I’ll bring it over”

She was with me a minute later, and I asked if she had time for a very quick chat. As the table was up against the end of the counter, she had simply passed the drink to me, waving my money away.

“I can spare a minute, Deb. What’s up?”

“I need to let you know I’m taking a sort of job on. Fostering for the Social Services”

She lowered her voice to a whisper.

“I’d already guessed that bit, Debbie, as I had worked out that you and Kim there aren’t related, but I don’t care. This mean you’ve got a new placement? Another kid?”

“Yes. Sorry about the tall story, but, you know. People get nasty. I was adopted, so I tend to be a bit protective”

“Not a worry, and no offence taken. Way Kim carries on, looks like you’re just the thing for her. This another trans girl?”

I found myself staring at her, realising yet again how sharp her mind was.

“I am not going to ask how you worked that one out, butt. Yes, she is. That a problem?”

She sighed, checking the till area with a glance before turning back to me.

“When you got smacked by that bastard, he’d been in here a couple of hours before. He asked me if I knew where a tranny kid was living with some biker slag with a Transit van. I told him to piss off. Didn’t tell the police, because I hear the problem was sorted byway of, er, an alternative route. I worked it out, love. I don’t care. She’s a lovely kid, and a bloody good worker, and that’s all I need to know. My parents were good folk, and I was lucky in them. Doesn’t mean I have to look down on the unlucky, does it? What’s the new kid’s name?”

“Nell”

“Then you get her settled in, and I’ll come round and cook for you some evening, or rather push Kim around the kitchen. OK with that?”

“It would be great”

“How’s the eye feeling, anyway?”

“Sore as hell, especially when I lie on it, but I’ll heal”

I had healed from an awful lot worse, but enough was enough.

“Ruth?”

“Yes?”

“Get any other queries like that, let me know”

“Do better than that, I can. Security camera up there, so I can give you faces if anyone else comes asking. Anyway, I’ll kick Kim out about twelve thirty, if that suits”

“That would be fine. Thanks again”

“No need, woman. Just keep looking after her, and the new girl, OK?”

I made my way back round to the house, being as noisy as I could with the keys, expecting to find some more of the classical stuff pumping out of the stereo, but to my surprise it was one of my own records, Lindisfarne’s ‘Magic in the Air’. I opened the inner door to see her lying back in an armchair, eyes closed, mouthing the words to a song I should have guessed would catch her eye.

“All right, Lady Eleanor, I’m all right in your arms…”

As track ended, I lifted the needle off the LP, and her eyes opened, a trace of guilt sitting in them.

“I saw the title, and…”

I put the arm back to the start of the track, smiling at her.

“Let’s listen together, then, till Kim gets home”

I lowered the needle into its groove and settled back, my memories warmer than they had been for what seemed like forever.

CHAPTER 24
We stayed that way for the rest of the morning, alternating a few of my more ‘lyrical’ albums with a couple of Nell’s tapes. There was one I did like, as bits of it were almost like heavy rock, but the others were a bit too fiddly for me. Nice tunes, especially in the one she had started with, but not really my thing.

“What was that loud one called again, Nell?”

“Sinfonia da Requiem. Britten wrote it for the Japanese, and they didn’t like it. Too Christian, they said. You liked it?”

“I liked the boom-boom-boom parts. Goes on a bit, though”

She actually laughed out loud at that, the most forceful sound I had yet heard from her.

“Wait till I play you some Mahler. He has symphonies where one movement takes half an hour, just on its own!”

No thank you, girl. There were prog albums like that, and I always found myself getting up halfway through to make a cup of tea or go to the toilet. I heard the outside door bang, and then again as it was pulled shut, Kim appearing shortly afterwards.

“You two ready, then?”

“Give us a couple of minutes, and we will be. You fine with Newport, Nell?”

“I need to learn to be, don’t I? Being outside, I mean. You said something about my hair?

“Yeah. Scarf or… hang on. KIM?”

“What’s up?”

“You wearing your leather? And that woolly hat Rosie left you?”

“I’ll grab them. We doing a Maccy D?”

“You not grab something at work?”

“Was busy, so I told Ruth I’d sort myself. What we shopping for today?”

“Clothes for Nell, today. I need a new chain and sprocket set as well, so we can look for a lid for her as well. Anything you need?”

“Nothing I can think of, but I’ll spot something while we’re out. Going in the van?”

“Um, three of us?”

She grinned happily, so much easier in the world than she had been when we first met, and I had to ask myself how much of that spirit had been released by her father’s departure, how much had been restored to her after returning a few swings of his belt.

We sat across the front seats of the Transit, and once again my memories were there, still warm. I stuck the CD of ‘Wish You Were Here’ into the player, as the closest I was willing to move towards half-hour bloody symphony movements, and we were off. I didn’t know Newport that well, apart from the big stores I delivered trailerloads to, so headed for what was called a ‘retail park’, avoiding the town centre as best I could. That didn’t actually mean much, as the shopping centre was smack in the middle of the town, but had reasonably quick roads in and out. I knew of a bike shop on the outskirts, so before I got too stressed out with the city traffic, I did the sprockets-and-chain purchase, which let me find a helmet to fit Nell. I noticed that she had made no comment whatsoever about riding on the back of my bike, but that was how I travelled, so tough luck if she didn’t like the idea.

I found a place to leave the van, after a bit of a search, and then we were out and about, my black eye drawing numerous stares as well as a few muttered comments. The girls were a contrast, Kim being girly for the day in one of her dresses, but with thick tights on against the bite of the wind, while Nell was clearly trying to make herself as invisible as possible, hunched down inside her borrowed jacket. I had discussed our group strategy in the van, and asked in as simple terms as I could what sort of clothing she wanted me to find for her.

“Nothing short, nothing tight…”

It seemed that I had the frightened little bird once more. Nevertheless, she still climbed out of the van with us and walked through the shops with her eyes open, even if they were pointed at the ground half the time. We visited about four clothes shops, she fixated on beige and grey, cardigans and calf-length skirts. She didn’t ask for make-up, nor heels; the only items she wanted that could have been deemed at all girly were some nighties with rather soppy designs, all snuggly teddy bears and droopy-faced donkeys.

There wasn’t a single challenge from the shop workers when she tried stuff on, and I suspect that was down to a combination of her demeanour and my bruised face. We filled bags, bought some household necessities, and both girls got their ears pierced.

Not my thing, piercings, but it made a difference to their mood, and if their parents were going to object, well, fuck the lot of them.

“No Maccy D’s here, Kim. Fancy a cuppa for now? I’ve got something to show you, or at least I think I have, and if it’s what I think it is, greasy fingers would ruin it”

There was a café not far from the car park, so we found a table and settled in behind some warming mugs, and I pulled out the envelope I had collected that morning. Once Kim had finished the cake I had bought us, and cleaned her hands with the wet wipes I knew she carried, I laid the envelope on the table between us.

“You can open it, love”

She gave me a puzzled look, but as soon as she spotted the ‘photos’ marking, her eyebrows went up.

“Pat?”

“I think so. She did promise”

Kim put the envelope back down, unopened.

“Nell?”

“Yes?”

“I think I should explain some stuff. Not all bad, OK?”

Nell just nodded, and Kim drew in a long breath.

“I wasn’t in a good place when we met. I told her to fuck off, called her a nonce, all sorts of rubbish. She took me in, wrapped me up, healed me… I was really ill, could have died. What you told me, last night, I thought some of that. Instead, she brought me friends, showed me all sorts of stuff. One of those friends… Deb took me somewhere gorgeous, and she had a friend there, and we went places that were so beautiful, so far from what I knew. If I am right, these are pictures from that trip. You look at these with me, and you’ll see who Deb is. If you don’t want to stay, then that’s your choice. I’d like you to stay. Want to see what I saw?”

Nell’s eyes flicked towards me, and I left her to speak. I hadn’t realised how terrified she was, but there it was, laid clear and obvious before me. Enough betrayal, and trust vanishes. I drew a slow breath of my own.

“Nell, Pat is someone I met many years ago. She is a one-off, a really lovely person. She showed me things I would never have seen, and then she did the same for Kim, and the only thing she asked was that we made her a cup of tea when we got back to our tents. Kim will make a joke about sore legs, but… I was lucky when I met my Mam and Dad, but I can never repay them, so all I can do is what they say, pay it forward, yeah? If you are worried there’ll be a price, don’t be. What you see really is what we are. Shit! Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you heard from Sparky? Got some more work for him, but I need to pay him for what he’d already done”

“We. We need to pay him. It’s already arranged”

Her stare challenged me, so I decided to leave the subject for later, and reached for the little brown package, ripping open the end to reveal a bundle of photographs, utterly gorgeous in both their objective beauty and the memories they delivered.

“Look, Deb! That’s all of us on Y Garn! I wonder how that old man got on?”

“Hang on, Kim. Move the plates and cups, please… yup”

I spread out the next set of pictures, overlapping them as necessary. The fit wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough, the circular panorama Pat had harvested as two of us shuffled around behind her. There were others, covering other moments and places of beauty and grandeur, and then the pictures switched to that night at the folk club. One shot was of Kim and myself, eyes closed, singing along to some piece or other, utterly absorbed in music. I held the last one in my hands for a while, just looking at it, feeling warm memories yet again.

I recognised Nell’s worries, even if they had only been shared with Kim, but it was my own state of mind I was finding uplifting. From that moment with the records on my settee, to that session of photo-sharing, I was feeling able to revisit old times in as happy a way as I had managed for years. Yes, they involved Mam and Dad, but it was so much more than emptying ashes into the wind by an old temple in Northumberland. That picture of three of us smiling at the top of Y Garn was perfect in its message: we weren’t just alive, in a place of beauty, but three friends who were living, and would continue to do so. I pushed the pictures back together, keeping that group photo out, and smiled at Kim.

“Best of times, love?”

Her own eyes were moist.

“Absolutely. Nell, this is what saved my life. Stay with us, please”

CHAPTER 25
Nell sat quietly for a few moments, staring at the photo of three of us gathered at the little wind shelter, the sweep of the Carneddau behind us, her eyes downcast. I noticed her hands trembling slightly. Her voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear her words.

“I’ve never had this, you know. I always wanted to see the hills, the big ones, but Mam and Dad, they never went any nearer than that holiday camp out past Harlech. The do weekend specials there, country and western ones. We would drive up, or Dad would, man’s job, and all I saw of the mountains was out of a car window. We… I…”

She paused for a couple of deep breaths, but before I could say anything, she was speaking once more, eyes locked on the photograph.

“It was everything I hated, the music, the line dancing they made me do, the way they came back drunk to the chalet every night. I had to wear stupid clothes, check shirts and jeans and a really stupid hat and knotted hanky round my neck, and I hated every minute. I had a tape player, for my own music, and some earphones, and one night, on one of those stupid trips, I said I was ill, so they let me stay in the chalet rather than going out with them, and Dad was drunk of course, when they got in, and he grabbed my cassette player and threw it out of the window. On the first floor, we were, so it smashed to bits on the concrete path, and shredded a tape I had of Bruckner’s eighth symphony, so I lost that, and then I had nothing to listen to while they snored all night

“So we get home, and he promises me a new cassette player if I just start being a proper lad, all football and stuff, but that’s not me, so… So I said I was sick one day, not up for school, and after they were both gone, left for work, I got out an old tape I had, copied off Radio Three, Beethoven, Leonora Number Three, it’s an overture, meant for his opera Fidelio, but he wrote three, and then another, which he decided to use, but he kept the others and…”

So much detail; I recognised what she was doing, skirting what she really wanted to say, but the dread was already building in me.

“It’s gorgeous, you know? Such a soaring tune at the end, so hopeful, so I set it to play, and I got Mam’s sleeping pills… And Dad came home for some reason, no idea what, and he found me, so I ended up in an ambulance, which I don’t really remember, and then they put a tube down my throat, which I DO remember, and that was when they got social services in, or rather the hospital did after Dad had said how I just needed a bit of a slap, to bloody well man up and that. Someone visited, and they were a friend of that Heidi, and she came round and had a talk with me, and it was the first time anyone had ever listened, so I couldn’t help it, and I told her everything, and it was just two of us in her office, so she… she held me till I stopped crying, and just said that she knew somebody, and if I could trust her… So I said I’d try to, and…”

The rush of words ceased, and she looked at each of us in turn, tears trickling down her face. Kim took her hand, and Nell smiled at her with genuine warmth.

“Yes please. I’d like to stay. I think I need to stay, if that’s OK?”

There was a cough behind me, as one of the waitresses moved to stand by our table.

“Are you all right, love? Is she OK, madam?”

Kim smiled back at the woman.

“Nell’s just had a bereavement, couple of family members. We were just looking at some photos, good times, you know?”

She quickly spread the panorama pictures, as the waitress murmured “There’s beautiful, isn’t it!”, and Kim kept the lead.

“Yup. Family trip we had, so once we sort out a few things, we’ll take her back up there. When it’s warmer, of course!”

The older woman smiled sadly, reaching out to squeeze Nell’s shoulder.

“You look after yourself, love. It gets better, trust me”

Nell smiled up at her.

“I’ve got my favourite aunty here, and my best cousin, so how can I not be OK?”

“Would you like something nice, to cheer you up? I could do you a slice of chocolate cake, on the house?”

Once again, Kim did the steering, impressing me enormously.

“That would be lovely, but we were promised a Maccy D on the way home, so it’s up to Nell here…”

The other girl shook her head, mouthing her thanks, and the waitress smiled, much more easily.

“What’s the Nell short for, love?”

“Eleanor”

“Lovely name for a lovely girl. You look after yourself, love”

We put the photos away carefully, and made our way over to the van. Once we were underway, Kim held up the envelope.

“Could we ask Pat to do us a favour, Deb?”

“What sort, girl?”

“Get us a blow-up of the group picture. I know somewhere that can frame it, and they could always do an enlargement from this one, but I think it’d be better from the negative. I’ve got an idea”

“What’s that?”

“If Nell really wants to see the mountains, if she’s up to it, we could take a photo there again, and they can go on the wall in our bedrooms. Give us some good times to look at when we need them”

So we continued along the main road back to Cardiff, and we did indeed drop into the burger place for grease, the photos staying safely away, and once again, Kim’s mind was working away.

“Not that warm, Debbie. You think we should take a drive out with the urn?”

I nodded, and Kim turned to Nell.

“This is how we met, girl. We go out some evenings, when we can, and we give out warm drinks to rough sleepers. We need to speak to one of them, anyway. Sparky, Deb? Bring your cheque book?”

“Makes sense. You up for that, Nell?”

“I think so. I need to lend a hand if I’m staying”

I caught a little nod of triumph from Kim, and asked her the obvious question.

“Cheque book?”

Kim nodded.

“Yeah, what Sparky said. He hasn’t got anywhere to put any money, and he said… He said it would all just go on booze if we gave him the folding stuff. There’s a café he knows, a greasy spoon place, and the owner is a decent bloke, he says, so what Sparky suggested was that we give a cheque to the man, and then Sparky or anyone he thinks needs it can get a hot meal while the money lasts”

“Sensible lad. OK; I’ll do that. We need some more work done, anyway, in the other house. Nell?”

“Yes?”

“Sparky’s sound. He did the security doors and that, so if we get him to do more work, he’ll be sleeping in the back yard. He has issues with sleeping indoors. Ex-army, Falklands stuff”

Kim laughed at my words.

“Don’t let him hear you call him ex-army, Debbie! He was Royal Marines, Nell. Trust me: he is absolutely sound. Was right there when my Dad did that to Debbie’s eye”

“That was your Dad? Will he be coming round again?”

Kim’s laugh had a real edge to it, a clear touch of darkness.

“Er, I don’t think so. Debbie has some other friends, and they had a chat with him, and he’s fucked off to live in England. He won’t be back, trust me”

I changed the subject quickly.

“That reminds me: Nita said she had someone in mind as a liaison person for her. We’ll need to sort that out as well”

Back home at last, a cup of tea to clean some of the grease from our burger meal, and I started the business of mounting the urn and getting everything else ready for our own little bit of social work.

“Girls?”

“Yeah?”

“Warm stuff for tonight, OK? Nell, I would wear those jeans, cause you’ll be in and out of the back of the van, and a skirt would be a faff. Woolly hat will hide your hair for now”

Off towards Splott and areas around it, the temperature dropping quickly, as a light rain began spoiling the evening even more than the cold. Definitely a hot-drinks night. We parked up in one of our usual places, and to my delight, Sparky was one of the first to arrive.

“Hiya, Kim love! Looking good, girl! Who’s this lovely lass?”

“Hiya yourself, love! This is Nell, our new friend, come to help with the drinks and shit”

“Hiya, Nell. Always glad to see a new smile. How’s the eye, Deb?”

“Hurts like hell, mate, but it will heal. Got some more work for you, if you want it, and Kim filled me in on your idea about the cheque”

He nodded to the girl.

“Ta, love. It makes sense, Deb. Too tempting for me if it’s in my pocket. Not saying I’m, you know, but sometimes life here can be more than a bit shit and, well… You understand?”

I just nodded, remembering my own early days in the city, days that had worried Harry so much.

“Let me know what you think is a fair payment, butt, and I’ll sort you that cheque. Let me know when you’re free to have a look at the rest of the work”

He howled with laughter.

“Free, love? Every bloody day!”

He cast an eye over his shoulder, suddenly tense, as a shadowy figure approached.

“What do you want? This is charity work, and I know the driver, and I KNOW the van’s all legal, so do what you need to, then leave us alone, OK?”

Of course it just had to be a fucking copper. I motioned the two girls into the van as he walked up to me, my inbuilt suspicion of the filth setting so many alarm bells ringing that I couldn’t hear the rest of my thoughts.

“You Debbie Wells?”

“Who wants to know, and why?”

“Um, I’m PC Welby. Paul, if you want. Nita Harris said we needed to talk”

CHAPTER 26
I felt a little stupid at first, but then reconsidered. What did the idiot think he was doing collaring me there and then? I could see half of the people we wanted to warm up starting to drift away.

“Kim, Nell? Look after the urn, can you? And you, copper, passenger seat now, if you don’t mind!”

He climbed in as I took the driver’s seat, slamming my door perhaps a little too loudly, turning towards PC Whatthefuck.

“You were supposed to be calling round at the house, not fucking stalking us while we’re trying to do some people a favour!”

He had both hands up in the traditional warding-off, calm-down posture, and I felt like smacking him for that.

“If I’ve stuffed up, I’m sorry, but I can explain. I hope adequately”

“Go on then, copper. Make it a good one or fuck off now”

“Nita did say you could be prickly, but, well, Who blacked your eye?”

“None of your fucking business. Explanation. Now”

He dropped his hands, and his eyes, then looked up again, trying to smile.

“I’ll start from scratch, then. I am PC Welby, Paul, as I said. I am the Community Officer for this patch, sort of working to Sergeant Harris as was. This is my beat, in a way. I’m not here to look for people breaking the rules so much as to spot those who are at the receiving end, if you get me. Bit of support for people who tend to get forgotten. You know what happens round here, don’t you?”

“Lot of people get cold and wet”

“Yeah, and some of them don’t get to wear much while they’re doing it. Mostly women”

Memories popped up, things Harry had said about the streets I was parking up on. Sparky had mentioned it as well, when the police were making a little pretence of looking for Kim. Working girls. I looked hard at the policeman.

“What do you do for them, then?”

He slumped in the seat, looking away again for an instant, and when he looked back, there was a flicker of pain in his eyes.

“Not much, to be honest. There aren’t many shelter places left. I try and keep an eye on them, let them tell me if there are any persistently nasty punters, if their pushers or pimps are getting shitty, things like that. Mostly, well, all I can really offer is a sympathetic ear and a seat in a warm car for a little while. Some of them appreciate that; some are more worried about missing available trade. I try and persuade the local ratepayers and hardworking et cetera to be a little less unpleasant to those whose luck walked out on them. Oh, and I front for a needle exchange. My job in a nutshell, really. Can’t cure their problems, so I try and make life a little less shitty”

His eyes flicked deliberately towards the partition behind our seats.

“I also look out for runaways, vulnerable kids and the like”

He caught my glare full on, and the hands came up again.

“Ms Wells, please. I said there aren’t many places in shelters, remember? From what Nita says, you’re opening up a few more, places we really need. You got any idea how many of the kids I pick up are homosexual or like those two with you? Mam and Dad don’t want poofters or fairies around, do they? Something like a third of the kids I pick up are on that bus. If you are giving them somewhere warm, I won’t be stopping you”

I took another look at him, trying to see how sincere he was, and once again I got a shy smile.

“That a good enough explanation?”

I made a quick decision.

“Has Nita given you the address? Mine?”

“Yes”

“We will be here about another hour. You wait here while I talk to my people”

I slipped out of the cab, shutting the door behind me, and walked round to the side door.

“Kim, Nell, Sparky? Want to walk over here for a sec?”

Once we were a little way off, I brought them up to speed.

“He seems genuine, so far. I’d like to see if he is kosher, how he comes across to you two. Sparky?”

“You want me along, just in case?”

“Sort of. It would also be handy to let you see the work I still need doing, and I think you might be a bit drier tonight under that tarp in my yard than out here”

“I’ve got a dry spot, Deb”

“Let someone else have it for a night or two, then. If I tell him an hour and a quarter, it will let us grab something warm at home, beans on toast perhaps, and don’t even think of saying you’ll be OK without it, Sparky! We agreed?”

I got three cautious nods, and climbed back into the cab.

“Be there in an hour and a quarter. Bye”

He took the hint and left the van, a little rush of people coming out of the side streets as soon as he was gone, and we did our best to keep up with demand, until I realised I was nearly out of sugar. Artificial sweeteners are not something you want when sleeping rough with no idea of when and where you might feed again. Sparky helped gather in the mugs in his usual way before grabbing his bedroll and settling into the back of the van. I made a quick dash into a corner shop for some basics like bread, beans and more sugar before parking up behind my house, Sparky setting up the tarp as I set beans heating and the girls set up the toaster and grill. Beans on toast for Kim and Sparky, cheese on toast for me and Nell, who had rushed upstairs as soon as we were in, reappearing in one of her new outfits.

I smiled at her in her beigeness.

“Don’t spill anything on your new clothes, girl. Tick this tea towel in just in case”

I had just stacked the plates in the sink when the knock came on the back door, and a glance through the peephole showed it was our new copper, carrying a plastic folder of some kind. I let him in after shutting the inner door.

“This is the visitor space. You don’t go through that door there until I have agreement from the others, OK?”

He nodded, and I took a quick look into the living room, getting three nods of assent. I led him in, taking a seat on the settee with the girls as he settled into the spare armchair. He looked a little embarrassed.

“I am really sorry I upset you all earlier. My mistake, all of it. I saw the van, I remembered what Nita had told me, and I thought, well, I can kill two birds sort of thing. Wasn’t my intention to alarm you”

Sparky nodded, then rose from his seat, PC Welby looking a little worried. It was Sparky’s turn to do the both-hands-up game.

“Cool, mate. I didn’t recognise you, isn’t it? I’ve heard some of the girls talk about you, though, so here’s my hand as a token, OK?”

He shook Welby’s hand before returning to his own armchair. And I saw the girls glance at Sparky once more, as if to take their lead from him. The copper coughed, and began opening his folder of papers.

“Thank you. Really appreciated that. Anyway, I’m not here to do paperwork, just to say hello, really, explain what I do, have a look at security if you don’t mind, and set out one particular ground rule”

I waved at him to continue, then thought better of it.

“Girls? Think we could all do with a cuppa? One of you do the honours?”

They both scurried out into the kitchen, and Welby opened his mouth to speak again, just as I shushed him.

“We discuss this as a household, family thing, aye? Wait till the girls are back”

Kim was at the kitchen door.

“Deb is dead right. Who wants what to drink?”

Once our hands were filled again, he put the folder to one side.

“Stuff that for now. Here’s the proposal we have for you. I am a police officer—yes, I know it’s bloody obvious, I heard that. It means I am bound by certain rules, and those rules compel disclosure of what information I am given. There’s a number of areas, one of which is what we call human intelligence. Snouts, informers, concerned members of the public, whatever. That is not what I am here for, though I can be if someone has a real worry. The disclosure bit is more delicate. For example, I know exactly who Kim is, but I don’t know, if you get my drift, because nobody has told me. Not properly. That means I am not bound to ring her Dad up and tell him where she is, and yes, I know all about that. What it does mean is that I can take a name off the at-risk register, let my colleagues spend their time looking for someone who needs finding.

“That is where you come in, Deb. You are at arms’ length from us, so you don’t have that duty of disclosure. It means we can pass you people to look after, and then it’s like Nita did. We let you know who is missing, where they’re from, and you don’t drop us any hints at all, nudge nudge, wink wink, so we can quietly mark a kid down as safe. Safe is all I need to know. Would that work for you?”

I nodded slowly, and he smiled with obvious relief.

“One more thing. There may be times when we might not want to pick someone up. Would you be OK doing it, if we need to stay at that arms’ length?”

He got our agreement, as the household I had described, and then grinned happily/

“Not often I put my foot in it that badly and manage to get it back out! Now, can I make an offer?”

“Go ahead”

“I actually don’t live that far away, and the car’s allocated to me personally, perk of my job. If I pop home and change, anyone fancy a pint?”

Sparky shook his head.

“Bit smelly, mate, my clothes. Debbie?”

“Aye?”

“Chance of a shower tonight and do some laundry while you’re out? Give me an idea of the work you want doing, and I’ll hive it a once-over while you’re out”

“You answering for me, Sparky?”

He grinned happily.

“You didn’t fancy a pint then?”

That set me laughing, and as our new friend drove off to change, I took Sparky around the other house, pointing out Nita’s idea of a crash-bar exit at the rear of the kitchen. He was nodding in appreciation.

“Makes sense. Like an old castle, with concentric layers of defence, but still a back door for a proper getaway. I’ll have a think about the front door as well. Go and get ready for that pint, girl”

Welby was back remarkably quickly, and of course we trooped off to the Clifton, where Harry beamed a welcome.

“Hiya, Debbie! Didn’t know you were acquainted with this plodder! Not seen the new girl, either. Hiya, Kim, Paul”

I shot a sideways look at Kim, who shrugged.

“Harry’s a regular at Ruth’s, Deb. This is Nell, Harry. Just moved down this way. Anyway, it’s my shout”

“Aye, girl, and for the benefit of the copper, it’s Debbie who’s actually buying the booze. What are you having?”

I looked at Kim, who was grinning and waving her purse. Sod it.

“SA for me, butt. Nell?”

“St Clement’s, please”

Paul went for an SA as well, Kim settling for a lime and lemonade, and we managed to find a table with room for four. By the time we left, still reasonably sober, PC Welby was ‘Paul’.

I found it hard to believe. I was actually warming to a bloody copper.

CHAPTER 27
We didn’t stay out that late, as both Paul (which felt right) and I had work the next day. That was a worry, as Nell remained a little of an unknown quantity. I would be forced to take a risk, and that meant trusting Sparky with her. Kim would be at work as well, but at least she was someone I understood, who would be close by if needed.

I had spent several minutes just watching her, seeing how she was working in public, how she interacted with Harry and our new friend. While Nell sat in place like a frightened rabbit, Kim was bouncing her attention round the group like a game of pass-the ball. The spirit she had shown me on our first meeting was still there, and I suspected that her new confidence came at least partly from that rapidly=thrown ball landing in her lap with a load of someone else’s need.

We said goodnight to Paul after arranging a more formal visit, and I led the girls back to the house, getting a murmured ‘Good night’ from Sparky as we passed his little shelter. I left the two girls to settle themselves in bed while I composed a letter to Pat. I had been hooked by Kim’s idea of some framed pictures for the wall, and some old memories had dredged up trivia about Number Ten, where a staircase was lined with pictures of all the Prime Ministers from now back to god-knows-when. That picture of Kim was such a shout of joy; if I could find similar pictures of each girl who stayed with me… I found a way to explain that to our friend, asking for some larger prints.

I was pleased to feel a little surge of warmth at that thought, almost a recognition that the world did, indeed, hold a place for me.

I was on local runs once more for the next three weeks, which meant that I was home later than I would have been if working the longer runs out to the West, as Bert did his best to fill our days while still refraining from playing the ‘Just in time’ game he despised. I used the time to make sure I topped up our domestic supplies, especially in cocoa, as we seemed to have had a massive hit on our store of the stuff. Kim had given me a list of ingredients for some meals she was planning, including some pork steaks for what she was doing her best to make her ‘signature’ dish. I also took the opportunity to pick up some bras for Nell, after checking her band size, as well as a reasonable waterproof jacket. I had hopes, especially after Nell’s comments about the photos, that she would find the nerve to fit in with the three of us on a weekend, but I had some doubts whether a full-on winter experience would be the best introduction; certainly not in a tent.

Three of us had coped for years in a Commer; sod it. I started looking at a few adaptations we needed, and rang Pat.

Sparky was with us a week, and I felt as if I was letting him down when I dropped him back off in his usual place in Splott. The second house’s back door was now fitted with a crash-bar exit, and each front door was now backed up by a rack of fire-extinguishers. There were extra lights in the second living room for reading, and Ruth had known someone, who knew someone else… and the Transit had come in useful for picking up a scarred but still functional extending dining table for the other back room.. We may only have been three just then, but we now had seating for at least eight. Beds, bedding… my inheritance was taking a bot of a wallop, but Nita and Heidi were as good as their word, and as the grants started arriving, I put some aside for a pair of boots for Nell.

Sparky had taken me into a local café, whose owner could have doubled for my old friend Fester.

“Jimmy, this is Debbie!”

“I know who she is, mate. Hiya, girl. Heard good things I have about you. I also hear you’ve got an arrangement with this miserable bugger”

I nodded.

“You take cheques, butt?”

“I do that. Do me a favour, aye? Don’t let this soft idiot get away with feeding everyone else first”

“Who do I make it out to?”

We spent quite a while in the warmth of the little goon, as the drizzle filtered down through the low clouds, and when I left, it was with the clear impression that while the cheque would most definitely be going into Jimmy’s bank account, he wouldn’t be paying too close attention to how much of it Sparky might be redeeming. Once again, I saw the sense in Dad’s idea of obligations and paying things forward.. I suppose it was a viewpoint that stemmed from being among others with less fortune or luck than yourself: you either looked down on them, and then away, or you recognised your own good fortune and its fragility.

I hoped that message would get through to Nell and let her relax some of her nervousness. I started setting supplies aside for the trip.

We were sat in the living room one evening, the gas fire glowing away as Kim did something from her studies and Nell watched a bit of fluff on the telly, when I raised the subject.

“Nell?”

“Um?”

“You said you wanted to see the mountains. Fancy a trip?”

“This time of year?”

“Absolutely. Farmer I know says it’s when the real people come out”

“In a tent?”

“Not this time. I’m going to set up the van as a camper, if you don’t mind us all being cuddled up in one big heap”

“Will it be cold?”

“Probably and damp, no doubt. Half the fun. If it’s too bad, we stay low, and go to the coast, or see the waterfalls. I have some cash put aside from the grants, so we can get you a pair of boots and a fleece and that”

“What’ll we eat?”

Kim was listening, and she started to laugh.

“Won’t be top cookery, Nell, probably stew and rice and stuff, but it will be warm, and it will taste fabby. Deb?”

“Yes, love?”

“You checked with Pat? I liked that pub we ate in, the one with the mole on the sign”

“Already rung her, Kim. She’ll be there”

“Great! We might even have snow on the tops! Not done that bit yet!”

I grinned back at her.

“Won’t be any half-naked men on those rocks, though, will there?”

“A girl can dream!”

That told me all I needed to know about her own healing, even in such a short time with me.

“Reminds me, Deb”

“Yup?”

“Rosie called in yesterday, into the Olive that is. Said she knew we had a new friend here, and didn’t want to scare her. She asked me to remind you there’s a party at the clubhouse for New Year, and we’re all welcome”

That would be a juggling act. How would Nell cope with what was likely to be a serious debauch? I sent up a quiet prayer that life could at least make a show of offering me some peace and quiet.

“I’ll have a think on that one. Might be a bit much for our friend here. So, Nell: up to the hills? Your call”

She looked back at the screen for a minute, then simply turned to me and nodded.

“I need to get a life, Debbie. Been thinking of that, watching Kim come in each day. Can’t sit indoors rest of my life… Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“Half-naked men?”

Kim’s grin also told me a lot about her own recovery, as well as leaving me realising I might need to watch her a little more carefully.

“Yeah, fit as anything! There’s a big slab of rock behind the campsite, and all the climbers go there to play, and some of them, all they wear is short-shorts, and you look up and all you can see is thigh muscles and tight bums, and I would say I don’t know where to look, but I’m no good at lying!”

She sighed, theatrically.

“They’ll not be like that, this time of year, though. You can use this trip as a recce thing, reconnaissance. I can show you the best places to sit for when Summer comes back”

She paused, her face falling a little.

“Nell, if I got it wrong, sorry. Just, well, I’m straight, yeah, and if you, you know…”

Once again, and unsurprisingly, we got tears from the newer girl, as she stammered out a confused mess of words that included how she wasn’t sure, she couldn’t know, she had tried to be a boy, but, but, but yes, she did think she might, you know, boys… All of it wrapped in that deep sense of unworthiness I recognised all too well. I watched Kim rise from her seat, so I stayed back for long enough to let her deliver the hugs and the reassurance Nell still needed so badly, and I felt so much pride in her I almost burst.

Three weeks later, and the Transit was lumbering along the familiar roads, and this time it was Kim pointing out the landmarks for Nell’s benefit. I had fitted Nell with boots, buying gaiters and overtrousers for both girls, but my wardrobe held more than enough woolly hats and gloves for all of us, as well as a spare day pack. I questioned my sanity as the wipers hammered from side to side, but the rain started to ease a little after Corwen, and by the time we hit Pentrefoelas, it had retreated back into its low grey ceiling. I grabbed a couple of pints of milk from Roger’s garage in Capel Curig before the final climb up and around to what I was now calling The Valley, then paused in the long lay-by outside ‘our’ farm to tray and spot Pat’s tent—no joy, so I continued on down the A5 to the Idwal car park, where we grabbed some teas from the little kiosk. Once the drinks were gone, Kim and I led Nell to the hidden bridge over the waterfall, where we sat for what must have been half an hour, watching the water foam and churn beneath us as it headed for the plunge over the lip and down towards Bethesda. Kim took the lead, yet again.

“What you think, girl?”

“Is it always this wet?”

“What, water?”

“No, silly! The weather”

“Not always. Naked men, remember?”

“Half-naked, you said!”

“Well, I told you: a girl can dream!”

Once again, I was treated to the rare sound of a completely natural laugh from Nell, and after laughing at myself for even thinking of the idea of trying to play Pooh Sticks in that torrent, I avoided the slightly bad step by bringing them both out the same way we had come in. Back to the van, a wave to Dafydd and Dennis in their kiosk, and back up the road to the farm, just in time to meet Pat as she drove into the site. Our introductions were warm, and Pat’s judgement was brisk and to the point.

“Sod cooking in this. Pub tonight, ladies?”

Pat drove, claiming she didn’t fancy a drink that evening, after pointing out that the Transit would be harder to park up than her car, so I edged the beast onto the four offcuts of carpet I had brought to avoid bogging down (thanks, Dad) and we adjourned to the place Kim liked. It was nowhere near as crowded as it got in Summer, but there were the same people there, even if most of them were generic. Youth hostellers, a couple of bikers, some climbers waving their arms in a corner as they spoke, plus the man we had just bought our milk from, Pat’s friend the shepherd in the woolly hat, and that skinny man with the ginger ponytail again, sitting on his own without the slightest hint of a smile anywhere near him.

Sod him. The shepherd was as effusive as ever, the bar staff were cheerful, the banter around the pool table was extravagant, and the first pint went down smoothly and in as welcome a way as it ever could. That night, wrapped up with myself and Kim, all I heard from Nell was the sighing of her breath, until Kim opened the door the next morning to reveal blue skies and snow-capped tops.

“Wow…”

CHAPTER 28
The tops were drifted with white, as far down as the Heather Terrace on Tryfan, the sunrise pinking everything and almost dazzling in reflection from the eastern faces. Kim had the smug look that all newcomers to a place exhibit when they find someone even newer to gloat over.

“What you think, Nell? Good, or what?"

“Where’d the snow come from? It was raining last night!”

Kim pointed upwards.

“That’s over three thousand feet high, up there, three and a half over the road. Where’re we going, Deb?”

“Depends on how Nell feels about going uphill so far. See what Pat says, as well. Morning, love!”

Pat was crawling out of her tent, grin in place and spreading as she saw the weather.

“You’ll be wondering where to go, am I right?”

Kim just grinned back and nodded.

“Right, snow on the tops. That means that we need to think of conditions. No scrambling, cause the holds will be filled with soggy stuff, so it’s walking time. An out and back, I think. Fancy the hut, Deb? Foel Grach?”

There was just an edge to her voice as she made the suggestion, so I went with her choice, and after our usual solid breakfast, we crossed the main A5 to the gate for the CEGB access road. Pat had produced four items I had heard of, but never actually used, from the boot of her car.

“Borrowed these from my climbing club, girls. We might get a chance for some practice higher up”

Ice axes, with long enough shafts to act as walking sticks. Nell looked slightly worried, but Pat just smiled in reassurance.

“These have a special use, but we need somewhere to practise with them. Got your camera, Debbie?”

“Yup!”

“Onwards and upwards, then”

That walk is a slog for a little way, up a stupidly steep tarmac road, but it then leads past a little lake before climbing a zig-zag track to a saddle. I remember ed it from my first times out with Pat, and on arrival at the narrow little saddle, she used her axe to scrape snow from the huge holds on the little rock step before leading us up the huge sweep of hillside with its parallel grooves, the snow getting steadily deeper, with no sign at all of anyone’s passage before our own. Nell seemed to be coping well with the effort, and on arrival at the summit she was lost in wonder, her gasping breath stopped in her throat, just for a second.

Kim was so smug that I thought she would burst.

“What did I tell you, Nell? Isn’t this the absolute fucking best! Um, sorry, Pat”

We sat in the little dry-stone wind shelter, sharing out our flasks of tea, before Pat led the way down and along the ridge to Foel Grach and its little shelter, Pat’s posture worrying me. Snow was piled against the door, but we scraped enough way with our axes to allow the door to be pulled open. I left the two girls to explore the narrow little space, taking Pat’s arm and tugging her a little way from the hut.

“You OK, love?”

She turned a flat gaze on me, then quirked an odd smile.

“We are a pair, aren’t we? I’m sorry, love. You know what my memories are from this place, don’t you?”

Someone shitting where you made love… No. Not the right thing to say, ever.

“Your man. Am I right?”

“You are. It would have been his birthday in a fortnight, so I was going to… I want to say sorry, Deb. I was getting selfish, resenting you being here, the girls… I had planned, you know, a sort of wake, memorial, I don’t know. Just me, and him, up here… What happened to your face, Deb?”

“Kim’s Dad’s fist”

“Ah. I take it he is no longer a worry”

I stared at her, wondering what she knew, and how, and she smiled back, gently.

“I know you, love. Don’t need to know details; I will just assume you sorted it. Now, the new girl is the same as Kim, isn’t she?”

“Yeah”

“And her father? No, I didn’t get that feeling. How many times has she tried to leave it all, Deb? Don’t look surprised; she’s not the only one. Little secret for you, my love: sometimes, when the old ghosts are calling, you need a focus. I wasn’t intending to come back down from here today. Leave it there, OK? You’ve just handed me a couple of reasons to think again. So let’s get these two back to the other side of the peak, where the snow’s smoother. Oh; one more question: your insurance on that van. Is it fully comprehensive? Lets you drive someone else’s vehicle?”

“Yeah, it has to be”

“Then, as the folk club is on tonight, could we go, and could I go with you driving in my car so I can get really pissed? Just this once?”

There was just too much to take in, to process, arriving in one shitty, stinking lump, like that turd we had found so many years ago, so I held her tight until we heard the voices of the younger pair, and Pat found her smile again.

“Right, over to the other side of the top peak again, and we will explore the delights of poly-bagging and self-arrest!”

Three hours later, we were stumbling down the CEGB road once more, cameras full of memories and legs drained of strength. ‘Self-arrest’ had involved a way of digging in the ice axes into the snow to stop a slide. ‘Poly-bagging’ was just silly, as Pat brought out an orange survival bag in heavy-duty polythene, pulled the front up over her knees and told the rest of us to sit behind, whereupon it acted as a sledge, a toboggan, and we slid down the new snow before rushing back up to try it again, right up to the point where Kim got there too late, so simply spiked the bag with her ice axe, leaving three of us to tumble off the front and carry out our first ‘live’ self-arrests.

Tired, happy, life rediscovered along with the reasons to continue it, or at least I hoped so. I drove them down to Bethesda, Kim giving me an odd look as I took the keys and the driver’s seat, but she was easily distracted by the pie and chips we picked up in the village, eating them in the car as the windows steamed up.

The folk club didn’t have a guest that night, so it was just floor spots, as they called them. I wasn’t complaining, as they were enjoyable enough, but I was watching Nell, as the music was certainly not in fitting with her tape collection, as well as Pat, who was certainly doing her best to justify my taking on of driving duties. My own memories were there with hers, so many of them involving Carl, and I really, really felt for her, right up until the barman, an older man, spoke to me.

“You’re a friend of Pat’s, aren’t you?”

“Very much so. Why?”

“She’s pissed. She never gets pissed. That time of year again?”

“If you think what I think you mean, yes”

The Mn nodded.

“He was a lovely man, ah? You doing the driving tonight?”

“Yes”

“Good woman. Now, I have stopped serving her vodka, but she’s still buying it. She’s getting water. End of the night, I’ll hand you the money back”

“Eh?”

“I have to take her money, or she’ll spot the switch. I don’t want to rip off a friend, though”

I thought for a second, then asked an obvious question.

“You got a charity box?”

“Cymdeithas [lots of Welsh words]”

“Eh?”

“Snowdonia National Park Society. Esme Firbank’s lot”

“You OK sticking it in there?”

“You sure? Lot of money, what she’s been, well, what she thinks she’s been drinking”

“Is it something she’d approve of? Pat, not Esme whoever?”

“Oh god aye. Life member, is Pat. Anyway, got a favour to ask”

“And?”

“Well, I recognise you, and the girl with the longer hair, ah? You’ve been here before?”

“We have. Kim loved it, You had some act on, from Manchester, I think”

“Yeah… How’s the other girl enjoying it?”

“I’ll ask her. Why am I now suspicious of what you want to ask?”

He looked away, which was something that always worried me, before pointing over to a darker corner of the pub.

“Got a lad over there, comes down here regular. From somewhere down south and west, from his accent, ah? Camps at Gwern y Gof Isaf, Big Willy’s they call it. Always plays a great spot, always gets absolutely pissed as a rat. I know Pat always camps at Gwern y Gof Uchaf, and he hitches down, fuck knows how he gets back. Just, there’s snow tonight, bit cold. If you could see your way to getting him at least as far as Emlyn’s, it would let me sleep better. The lad’s OK, nice enough, ah? Bloody good musician, always welcome, just a miserable fucker when he’s had a beer or ten. I just don’t want to read about anyone dead of exposure a couple of miles from here”

Obs. Dad, Mam, they would have given the same answer I did.

“Let him know closer to last orders, then. If he’s a miserable sod. I could do without that till I really need to speak to him”

“Thanks, love. Take this the right way, but I trust Pat, and if she trusts you, well, you catch my drift. Put your purse away for this round, ah?”

Pat was floating by now, which left me to watch the two girls, who were really animated, Nell in particular.

“How you doing, love?”

She grinned back.

“My legs feel awful, Debbie, but this is, I don’t know. This is real music, yeah? You can see what people put into it? I mean, it’s not like Mahler, or Sibelius, but it’s from the heart, isn’t it?”

“Yup. First time I came across it was Dad singing…”

Shit. What was that all about? I wrestled down the sudden surge of emotion, recognising how much Pat’s distress had triggered me, smiled at Nell and pointed to the MC, who was jabbering something in Welsh before waving on the miserable ginger-haired bastard from the Bryn Tyrch.

“[Welsh Welsh] Steve Jones!”

He was clearly wobbling a little, but when he put the bow to the fiddle he was carrying, I was captivated. I know nothing at all about violin technique, but I didn’t need to: he was absolutely superb. I caught Nell sitting with her mouth open as he did something remarkable, and when he finished, despite the roar of acclaim, he simply wandered back over to his corner table and continued drinking.

Needless to say, he was our ‘charity case’ from the landlord. He squeezed into the back with the girls as Pat snored in the front, and the only word he said, as he climbed out by his camps site, was “Thanks”

I am sure I caught the glitter of tears in his eyes as he shut the car door.

CHAPTER 29
I handed the hammer back to Nell, setting the frame as square as I could. It was only the second we had placed by the stairs, but it was a good one. Pat had set her timer to capture all four of us at the top of Carnedd Llywelyn, sun brightly shining and our jackets covered in lumps of snow from our silliness with axes and polythene survival bag. Just down from that picture, three of us grinned on top of Y Garn. The sunlight in the photos could do nothing to illuminate the staircase, but the memories did exactly that. Nell chuckled.

“What’s funny, love?”

“Just thinking, yeah? Climbing pictures, next to stairs. Fits!”

That Sunday morning had been misty, and when I took a mug of tea to Pat’s tent, it was clear that she wouldn’t be in the best state to lead us up and over anything serious that day. I called Kim over.

“Want to show Nell your lusting place?”

Her confidence was growing wonderfully, as she grinned at the other girl.

“Can’t promise you no naked men today, but I can show you the best place to sit!”

Once they were gone, I quietly asked Pat if she was okay, as I was still worried about her unpleasant revelation on Foel Grach. She shook her head sharply, then groaned.

“Shouldn’t do that after a night like that. No, Deb. I’m fine, as fine as I’ll ever be, if you catch my drift. You do that, you know?”

“Do what?”

“Debbie, love, I don’t need to know all the details of what you got away from. I don’t really want to. I have seen how it has screwed you over… Sublimation, that’s the word. Finding another focus. Those girls, that’s yours. You’ve got nobody else, have you?”

Stick the knife in, woman, why don’t you.

“No. I have family, my sister and her man, but no, not really. Those two up the hill, they’re my focus now. I get what you’re saying, and it’s something I worked out a while ago. Not so much a reason to live as a reason to keep on living”

She nodded, more carefully this time.

“yes. Not so much something to make life worthwhile, rather something to make dying a non-option. Hang on…”

She wriggled in her tent for a few moments, then emerged with her unlaced boots on.

“Thanks for the tea; I really needed that. What I said, sounds horrible as I replay my words, and then I think of those two, hear them laughing, and it’s not quite as nasty as I phrased it. You heading back this evening?”

“Yes. It’s not a long weekend for me, and I’m on local drops tomorrow, so I need to be home. What do you want to do today?”

“Birds suit you? Usual places? Be an idea to drive my car for me; I don’t think I’ll be safe for a while. I’m staying on a couple more days”

“And you’ll be all right?”

She cocked her head, then looked away towards the gleaming white top of Pen yr Ole Wen.

“I think so, now. Thanks, love. Thanks for being there. Could I have another brew, please? And shall we grab breakfast from a Little Chef or something? I can’t be arsed to cook right now”

I had made the tea for her, and when the girls stumbled back down to us, laughing like drains at some stupid joke or other, I had done exactly as Pat had proposed. Breakfast outside Bangor, then South Stack, Malltraeth, the amble out to the beach at Newborough as a recovering Pat explained the name along with the folly of cutting down the trees that had secured a mobile dune system, before or final farewells at the long lay-by outside the farm.

I had held Pat for a long time before driving off, extracting, almost extorting her promise to stay safe, to ring me if those old ghosts of hers came calling again. Our drive back was uneventful, apart from passing the ginger fiddler as he freewheeled a heavily-loaded bicycle down the long slope towards Betws. What had his own hangover been like?

Pat’s gifts had arrived a week later, a cardboard tube holding some enlarged prints and a smaller package holding a set of more normally-sized pictures. The three of us spent an evening filling another photo album with sweet memories before heading out in the van for a hot-drinks session. Nell took her new self-confidence for a trip into the city centre the next day, returning with a couple of picture frames for the two enlarged prints, and that led to our little session on the stairs in the second house.

Life wasn’t too bad. More news came from Heidi a week later. After a general catch-up, she came to the point.

“I had a word over in Swansea, Debbie. The shrink there was a Doctor Thomas. I have pulled a couple of favours, and he’d like to come round to your place some time, have a chat with the girls. He’s not offering to take them on; he just wants an idea of where they stand. Got any times to avoid?”

“I’m on a weekend in ten days, so I’ll have midweek free. I assume he doesn’t work Saturdays?”

“You got that bit right. If you can give me an idea of best time of day… Oh, and Nita wants a word, if you can hang on while I transfer you”

The phone clicked before playing some crap tune or other, mercifully cut short by Nita picking up.

“Debbie?”

“That’s me”

“What are you up to around New Year?”

“Got a party on with my sister, but that’s about all”

“You up for a drive out by Monmouth? And how many spare beds do you have?”

“You got another girl for me, then?”

“I think so. She’s in a care home at the moment—no, Debbie. Not like that”

She had clearly heard my hiss of breath at those words.

“What reaction did you expect me to give, Nita?”

“I know, woman. Trust me, though, this isn’t like those places. No nastiness from the staff, but it’s a boys’ home, and she isn’t fitting in that well. Can I send you the details for after the holidays?”

“Go on, then. I know you wouldn’t be waiting till then if there was an issue with the place, so I suppose I’ll trust you this once”

“This party, then. At the biker place?”

“Might be”

“Will those two be safe there?”

I surprised myself just then, by snorting with laughter.

“Nita, there’s nowhere safer for them! My family, isn’t it? Now, I need to run all this past the girls. Got the details of that shrink? Heidi forgot”

I scribbled down name and number, before ending the call with Nita and immediately ringing the number she had given me.

“Castle Medical Centre. Can I help you? [Something in Welsh]”

“Could I speak to Doctor Thomas, please?”

“Who shall I say is calling?”

“Debbie Wells”

“One moment… connecting you now…”

“Miss Wells? I have been expecting a call. Your colleagues’ proposal intrigued me”

“In what way, exactly?”

“I have only engaged with two transsexual patients, professionally. It was an area that I studied in depth, as I find it fascinating, but without upping sticks and moving to somewhere in England, I have found few opportunities to , um, well, practise”

“I heard about one of them. Sarah Powell. That’s why we came to you”

“I can’t comment on other patients, I am afraid.”

“Not asking you to, just letting you know why we thought you might be able to help”

As it turned out, Dr Thomas had a day that fitted in with my roster and he didn’t mind the drive, so it was all coming together. I decided to hold a ‘household meeting that evening, sitting both girls down with a hot chocolate, all electronics switched off.

“Right, you two, we have a few things to sort out, the first one being Christmas and New Year.. I’ll explain, and then you can ask questions, OK? There is time off available over the holidays, but he runs a ‘one on for one off’ policy. If you grab time off around Christmas, he expects you to work New Year, and vice versa.. I went for New Year, as my sister has a party planned, and Christmas is really for people with younger kids than you two, although I’m not too sure, the way you two were giggling together up by those rocks”

Kim gave me an arched eyebrow and a very, very straight face.

“Trust me, Miss Wells; what Nell and I were discussing there was definitely NOT for the ears of little children”

The whole thing was spoilt by her collapse into giggles, followed immediately by Nell’s own laughter. I waited until they had wound down before continuing.

“Well, that is actually very relevant. How do you two see yourselves? Be honest, please”

Kim looked at Nell for confirmation, then turned back to me.

“I think I get what you mean, Debbie. Like you said in the Summer. Straight girls, both of us, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

“Yup, I know that. We just need a little extra, all three of us. There are ways that we can move on, become more the way we should be, but the law is a twat. We can’t change what they call us, but we can do something about matching our bodies to what they should be. You both know what I mean, so I won’t go into details, but to do that you need a doctor. We have one coming for a visit, a Dr Thomas. He knows about girls like us, and I am assured he can keep his gob shut. He doesn’t guarantee he can do everything you need, but it’s a starter, at least. You up for that? He’s coming on Wednesday, as long as I confirm things with him. I need a yes or a no, from each of you”

Kim took the lead, as always.

“You know my answer already, Debbie. Nell? You up for this? It’s a big step”

Nell’s voice was once more nearly inaudible, but there was a touch of a smile as she stared at her knees.

“Soonest started, soonest there. Will there be needles, Debbie?”

“What? Oh. No, no needles. He’s a shrink. Just wants to talk to each of you”

“That’s OK, then. So what is this at New Year, then?”

Kim grinned at me.

“This the sister we went on the bikes with, when I first got here? Who might have had a little word with someone we both know? It’s a biker party, Nell. Be a lot of loud music, dancing, and all the men will be big ones”

I snorted as Nell blushed, and pointed out that the men in question would also be an awful lot older than either of them.

“You up for that, Nell?”

“It’ll be safe?”

“I expect Rosie or Carl will assign a prospect or two to keep an eye on you, so I will now make my own apologies”

Nell looked up sharply at those words.

“Apologies? What for?”

“Well, it is highly likely that I will get very drunk, dance until I drop, and spend the night talking utter crap to anyone who’ll listen. The apologies are in advance, for anything I might end up doing on the night itself!”

That brought more laughter, before we settled down with a bundle of OS maps to show Nell where each of our photos had been taken, trying to give her a feel for how the views matched the marks on the map. Over the next few days, Kim kept her friend’s self-confidence increasing by taking her to help out at Ruth’s. Before I knew it, Wednesday came around, and with it a knock at the front door.

CHAPTER 30
I went out of the back door and around the end of the terrace, which allowed me a look down the street at whoever was knocking, rather than taking the risk of opening the front door. It was a middle-aged man, suit and tie under a long raincoat, topped off by a golfing umbrella.

“Can I help you?”

He turned to stare, then smiled.

“I recognise that voice. We spoke on the telephone. Rhys Thomas?”

“Ah! Come on round the back. Sorry about this, but we take our security rather seriously”

He stared at my slowly fading black eye for a couple of seconds.

“I can see why. Did you have that properly examined, in Casualty? People have some really stupid failures of understanding about the fragility of the bones around there, never mind the soft tissue”

“Yeah, I got the medics to look it over”

“The assailant? Did the police prosecute?”

“That person is no longer a worry”

“Oh. I see, I think”

We had arrived at the back door, so I let him into the kitchen and asked him to wait, before stepping through the inner door to settle the girls.

“The doctor is here. Are you two sure about this?”

Nell looked to Kim for reassurance, then both nodded. I opened the door again and called the man in.

“You want a cuppa before we get started?”

“That would be lovely, Ms Wells”

“Debbie, please. One of you two want to sort the drinks?”

A few minutes later we had our full mugs, and Dr Thomas was staring at the two photo frames Kim had placed over the sideboard. They were multi-picture affairs, each one holding eight ordinary-sized pictures in their own little compartment. Most of them were from Pat, so we had scenery as well as people, with some particularly lovely ones of the sunrise from our campsite, the hidden bridge and so on, as well as a particular shot that Kim had surprised me with. It showed her, in her swimming costume, standing in the edge of the sea as Pat stood by her, probably naming every single peak on the mainland.

Dr Thomas grinned, shaking his head, before turning back to me while pointing at the photo in question.

“Shall I just leave now? I’ve probably got enough evidence in that one picture to make a diagnosis!”

That broke the ice, so we had a much more relaxed conversation, which ended up in Nell, of all people, pulling out the latest photo album and talking the doctor through it. That worried me, because the clock was ticking and someone like him would clearly have other people to see. He caught my frown, once more smiling at me.

“Don’t worry, Debbie. This is actually all part of my work. I like to see my patients as they are in the wild, if you see what I mean. I will be talking to them separately in a little while, but at the moment… Nell, you say this was how high up? You didn’t take the train?”

“Wrong mountain, Doctor. No train, and we had to do a little bit of rock climbing, scraping snow off the grips”

Kim looked up at that word.

“Holds, Nell, not grips. Anyway, we need to go back to the proper climbing place, when it’s warmer. Maybe take a camera and binoculars…”

That, of course, reduced them both to giggles, and the doctor looked at me with a little sympathy evident.

“You are sharing this place with two teenagers? How are YOU coping?”

I sent him off with Kim first, to sit in the other living room for their private chat. She was back after an hour, and sent Nell in for her own turn, sitting down with a bang on the settee. I gave her a ‘do tell’ look, remembering the pain of my own interview, and she shrugged.

“That was weird, Debbie. He just let me talk, then I realised he was steering it all the time. I told him so much, stuff I haven’t told you, yeah? I even told him stuff I didn’t know I knew. Weird… Will Nell be OK with that? I mean, what she told us about, you know. Not going to land her in a loony bin, is it?”

I shook my head, more in hope than certainty.

“No, don’t think so. That was then, when she was in a bad place. You think she’s still in a bad place?”

“No. She says she’s happier here… No. She says she is happy here, full stop. All she misses is being able to study. Wants to go to university, does Nell, and she knows she can’t do that and be Nell, not properly”

I filed that one under ‘things to try and sort’, before deliberately changing the subject to clothing, and specifically what to wear for the new year party. In what seemed like no time at all, Nell and the doctor were back with us, the girl’s eyes a little red. Kim took her straight into a hug, whispering reassurance to her, as our new doctor settled into an armchair.

“Could I trouble you girls to make me another tea? And give me a few minutes to speak with your guardian?”

Kim towed Nell into the kitchen, shutting the door behind her, and the doctor sighed.

“I have had confirmation from Social Services that you are acting in loco parentis for the children, and they have each given me their consent, so I can discuss things directly with you. The first point is a simple one to cover, and that is the issue of Gender Identity Disorder. In short, despite anatomical issues, you have two young women living with you”

I actually laughed out loud at that remark.

“Tell me something I didn’t know!”

“Yes, well, my diagnosis carries weight that yours doesn’t, Debbie. They are also both heterosexual, which is an area of concern. I had a previous patient, as you are no doubt aware, just as clear in her situation, just as straight, and she had, to use the vernacular, nine colours of shit beaten out of her by a boyfriend when he discovered her situation. I will add that Eleanor, Nell, has a history of serious self-harm, which concerns me”

I nodded.

“Yes, Kim and I spoke about that. We believe that her… her episodes came from being somewhere she had lost hope, and she’s no longer there, so she’s looking at tomorrow, rather than at today’s pain”

“Yes, I tend to concur. For such a young woman, Kim is very perceptive, and surprisingly mature”

“Well, violent abuse does tend to make you grow up a bit quicker”

He stared at me for a few seconds, expression neutral, before replying.

“Yes. I believe you understand that process rather too well. Anyway, my work here is done for today. I have arrived at a diagnosis of GID in each case, and I will set the ball rolling for the rest of their care”

“Will that include hormone treatment?”
“Not until they are eighteen at least, Debbie The same is true for any surgery. There may be a possibility of anti-androgens--- drugs to stop virilisation, slow down their passage into manhood. The law is unclear on that one, but it is an option I can investigate. I am, after all, rather new to this, as I said in our chat. Transsexuals are rather thin on the ground, your place being a bit of an anomaly, in a self-selecting way. Shall we have the girls back in?”

As a foursome, we talked through Dr Thomas’ points, and I could almost hear the voice in Kim’s head: ‘Dur, always known I’m a girl, don’t need a doctor to tell me’, but she kept her thoughts to herself. The shrink left us half an hour later, after arranging another visit for two months’ time. I sat with the girls for a couple of hours, as their emotions danced around the entire compass. In the end, I did the obvious thing, and took them by bus to the city centre, where we addressed the question of what Nell and Kim would be wearing for the upcoming party, which required some serious ‘parental control’ on my part when Kim tried to persuade me to let her buy some particularly silly heels.

“Dress code is jeans and T-shirt, ladies. Besides, I do not want any wrong signals to be picked up. Not everyone there will know me”

Kim snarked up, just a little.

“Yeah, but you said we’d have someone looking after us!”

“I am sure you will. You want them to have to get into a fight if someone reads the signals wrong?”

I was reminded, for the first time in ages, exactly how old Kim really was, so I smiled at them both to ease the sting, before making my offer.

“Anyway, Nell here has very little of her own stuff just now, and by that I mean music. I think we need to sort that one out, and there are some new albums out by people I like myself, and I am absolutely sure there’ll be something in the camping shop that’ll have our names on it. Then it’s back to Ruth’s for tea, and I have just had an idea for Christmas”

I kept my counsel on that idea, as it had only just formed, and we duly did the round of the shops I had mentioned, having a lamb roast at Ruth’s before settling down in our front room with the stereo playing a new CD Nell had chosen, something by Beethoven that was the most danceable piece of classical music I had ever heard. Some of it, at least. Another bit was really miserable, but you can’t have everything.

Nell was fiddling with her new rucksack, trying to work out what all the straps were for, while Kim was engrossed in the pair of hillwalking guides for Snowdonia that we had found. I reached across from my chair for the telephone, our meal filling me comfortably.

“Hiya, Debbie! How’s you?”

“Fine, Malcolm. Just got back from a weekend in the hills. Graham about?”

“I’ll pass you across”

Graham sounded brightly happy, which pleased me, and I got straight to the point.

“What are you two up to at Christmas? I need to run it past a couple of other people first, but I’ll be off just for the day itself, nothing more. You fancy a couple or three days here? I can see what Marlene has planned”

Graham’s chuckle was delightful.

“I would most certainly be up for a night out there, pet! Who are these other people? You courting?”

Ouch.

“No, love. Fostering. I need to make sure they’ll be happy with a couple of men in the house. Usual mate be happy to look after the animals that time of year?”

Another laugh.

“He will be when I sort him the makings of a decent dinner and a stock of booze for the day! When do you want us to come down?”

“Um, how about the twentieth? That’ll give the girls time to settle, and let you rest before you paint the town pink”

“Twentieth is good for us, pet. See you then. We’re having a, um, quiet night in tonight”

Cheeky sod. I hung up, looked at the clock, and made a quick decision.

“Girls, we need to pop out again. Not stopping late, but I need to introduce you to some other friends. I’ll take the van this time”

The place was relatively quiet for once, so I had no trouble getting to the bar.

“Marlene? I’d like you to meet my friends Nell and Kim. Girls, this is my very good mate Marlene. Marlene snaps, but never bites”

An eyebrow sitting much higher than a real one would have done rose even further up a powdered forehead.

“Not unless I am asked nicely, girls. Or asked rudely, or submissively, or pleadingly; I am a versatile bitch. Ah. You driving, Deb?”

“Yes. Bit of a last-minute thought, coming out tonight”

“Corner table’s free. Cuppa?”

“Please”

“Girls? Don’t be cheeky and ask for booze, as a slap in the face often offends”

They stammered out their order, and Marlene waved a scarlet talon at the table in question, joining us two minutes later with the cold drinks.

“Yours is coming, Deb, along with mine. Now, what has brought you out here apart from Moi?”

I cleared my throat, but she continued.

“Girls, Kim, Nell: this is a safe space. I can see what you are, and that isn’t a problem, so put that away for now. Deb and I understand each other very, very well. These a couple you are looking after, Deb? Oh, and has whoever slapped you found wherever you put his bollocks yet?”

CHAPTER 31
Both youngsters sat open-mouthed for a few seconds, before Kim, naturally, turned to me.

“Is Marlene always like this? And tell me again why we are here?”

My overdressed friend burst out laughing.

“Well, I can see which one of these two delicate flowers has been with you the longest, Debbie! Now, what can Marlene do for you?”

“Ah, it’s coming up to the holidays, love, and I have plans. I’m actually only off for Christmas Day, myself, but that means I’ll have New Year instead”

“Party that night, woman. Both nights, actually, both Eves, but the second one is ticket only”

“Ah, we’ve got another event that night, up the clubhouse”

I received another long stare from Marlene, before she shook her head and smiled, showing the genuinely caring person I had come to know and love.

“I was going to say something stupid, like ‘Will those two be safe there?’, but thinking about it, would there be anywhere that could possibly be safer for them? Don’t answer that one, Debbie. So, will you be here for Christmas Eve, then?”

She turned to the girls.

“A lesson for you, little darlings. Most pubs tend to be empty, or at least quiet, on Christmas Eve, as a most folk are sorting families and stuff like that. For an awful lot of my customers, this is the closest to family they will ever get. Expensive for taxis, so I set up a little minibus for people who are stuck getting home. Not always safe out there”

She turned back to me.

“So can I assume it will be just you and the chickens here?”

“Nope. I have a couple of friends coming down for a few days”

Her smile brightened again.

“Those two geordies? I will have to hire someone to translate the lyrics on the karaoke machine!”

“They can read English, Marlene!”

“Yes, but not speak it! It will be good to see them again, but do NOT tell them I said that! Right, girls, the ground rules, FAQs, and so on”

Kim again.

“FAQs?”

“Frequently asked questions, darling. Yes, this is a gay bar, a lesbian lair, a perversion palace, a home for godless abominations. We get all sorts in here, but the rule is that they do not piss people off, and by ‘people’ I mean Moi. There will be multiple displays of close personal affection that would piss off the people behind Section 28, but anyone that gets pushy gets pushed, as in out of the fucking door thanksbye. Are you okay with that idea?”

Nell surprised me yet again, by turning to Kim with an obviously feigned sigh.

“Sounds like there’ll be no talent for us to pull, then”

Marlene and I let the laughter fade, before she turned to them with her genuinely serious face on.

“Not quite, darling. We do get some trans men in here. Most of them are straight guys”

Kim looked lost, so Marlene sighed in her own way.

“People told they were girls when they were born, but who feel they are really boys. You two should understand that idea, but I’m guessing you’ve never thought of it. Too much on your plates already, am I right?”

She shrugged.

“Some of the dykes really hate them. If they push it, as I said, they get pushed. You working on the Day, Debbie?

“No, but I am on Boxing Day. There’ll be a load of deliveries for the sales on Boxing Day, so I am sure there will be some managers, somewhere, that will have an attack of the last-minute-sphincter-clench that they’ve forgotten or under-ordered something random”

She turned to the two youngsters, and her face softened.

“You don’t have to answer this unless you want to, girls, and I suspect I already know the answer, but anyway: will this be your first Christmas being yourselves? Yeah? Can see it in your faces. Right, then. You come here, you have a good time, you don’t get pissed, and you look after Debbie. Anything goes wrong, anything turns nasty, you find me, or you tell one of the bar staff to find me. Just say ‘Code Purple’. And you do NOT step outside the door until you are all together and ready to leave. Got me?”

They both nodded, Nell holding up a hand like a schoolgirl.

“Yes, love?”

“Why purple?”

“Because that, girl, is your colour on the Pride flag. Now, the place is getting busy, so I shall leave you with one more thing. I know Debbie is a working girl—don’t breathe your tea, darling, drink it--- so I assume you will be doing your own shopping in town some days. You get any shit, anyone starts following you, you come here. If I am not open, there is a doorbell by the main entrance that rings in my flat. You ring that. See you at Chrimble, ladies”

She swept away, and Kim turned to me, eyes wide.

2How do you find these people, Debbie? All so nice?”

I had a sudden bite of sorrow, thinking of Mam and Dad, Duncan, Sam… but I pulled myself back to the here and now.

“If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here, Kim. Other people don’t get that luck, so I try and spread it about. Anyway, home time, I think. Have a look for that doorbell on the way out, OK?”

The days passed steadily after that, and I noticed both girls settling far more easily into each other’s company. Kim’s cooking grew steadily more adventurous, as well as more skilful, which may have meant ‘safer’ but actually meant tastier. Nell surprised me with a bacon broth one evening, complete with proper suet dumplings, that she said she had copied from one her mother made. It was a little too salty, but it was filling, and that was appreciated as the weather really began to grind life down. I was cheered up one evening n particular, when I arrived home to find some classic AC/DC playing, not too loudly, and both girls dancing to it in the living room. Kim saw me first, grinning as Nell slumped and blushed.

2Hiya, Debbie! Thought we better get her some practice in for New Year. Can’t go to a party and not dance, can you?”

Nell was back in her head-down slump, muttering something about being too shy, and Kim hugged her.

“Sing like nobody’s listening, dance like nobody’s watching, love like there’s no tomorrow, Nell”

Her head came up.

“I like that. You thought it up?”

“Na. Was on a fridge magnet in Ruth’s kitchen. Makes sense, though. For me, it’s if I sing, there will be nobody listening cause they’ve all run off screaming!”

That turned into a very, very silly evening, because of course I had to dig out dome of the old Steeleye albums, and we sat slumped together on the settee, cuddled up to each other as we tried to sing the lyrics printed on the inner sleeves of ‘Below the Salt’ and ‘Now We Are Six’. For the sake of the girls, I did my best to stay dry-eyed for ‘Saucy Sailor’, but it was a close thing.

I set off for work on the morning of the twentieth having left strict instructions for Nell and the boys about entering the house, and setting a password for them to use, and I will admit I was feeling mischievous that day. When I arrived home, I was met by solid hugs from the two men, and a very puzzled Nell.

“Debbie, I know you told me what they would say, but what’s a stotty, and why wouldn’t be hairy?”

She was only drinking orange squash, so it wasn’t likely to stain the blouse she soaked when Malcolm explained. I had been worried at the thought of leaving her with two male strangers, but once again she surprised me with her courage, going out with the boys each day before Christmas. I got her by herself in the kitchen at the end of the third day, asking her if she was okay with the lads, and I actually received a full-strength beam of a smile.

“Kim’s idea, Debbie! She says that I can use the time profitably. So they’ve got a car, and they want to play tourist, and there’s lots of places I like, or haven’t seen but want to, so if I do the tour guide thing…”

I added another tick to my mental checklist about the younger one: confidence, restored, then mentally rubbed it out and wrote ‘confidence, excessive’.

“So where have you been? Rather, where did you con them into taking you?”

“Folk Museum first. And Caerphilly Castle. Graham said they have more and better castles up his way, and Malcolm just said it doesn’t rain as much. And Malcolm wanted to see the bridge in Newport. He took so many photos, said there was another bridge like that not a long way from where they live. And, um, they bought me some new walking boots. I showed them the pictures from the mountains, and they said I should go back”

I called through to the living room.

“Oy! Graham!”

“Aye?”

“Do NOT go spending loads on this one!”

“Get stuffed, Debbie! It’s Christmas, so that’s her present from both of us. I mean, we’re not getting owt from you, are we, except bed, breakfast, lovely company of gorgeous lasses and a hopefully great Christmas party!”

He paused, before adding, “Not that either of us has any specific need for being surrounded by pretty lasses, but, well, you know what I mean. We’d like to do the same for Kim on Boxing Day, in the sales, if you don’t mind. We think these two will be up the hills as often as they can manage, so decent boots are a must. Yes, I know you got her some boots, but trust me, those won’t last that long, not on Welsh hills. Now, important stuff. Are you going to get glammed up for Christmas, or just slob around as you usually do? The girls want to go glam, so you’re outvoted. You’ll have to lump it”

Cheeky bugger.

I got through the other two working days, fully intending to stick two fingers up to Graham, but I ended up standing in front of my wardrobe, memories of dancing myself silly with Mam, Rosie and poor Sam, and my choice was made for me. Denim mini, spiky boots, and more than my usual make-up to cover at least some of the slowly-fading bruise. I came carefully down the stairs, to find the two lads looking what could only be described as drab, so I cocked an eyebrow at them. Malcom looked at his partner, and shrugged.

“Not only are neither of us that young, but we are most definitely not on the tap. The girls are in the kitchen”

Something about the way he said that alarmed me, so I opened the door to find two teenagers in make-up, miniskirts, tight tops and high-heeled shoes I had most certainly not known they owned. Not that high, but most definitely heels. The boy’ doing, no doubt. Before I could get my objections into full flow, Graham called out “Taxi’s here!” and it was too late.

We trooped out, winter coats incongruously over our ‘evening wear’, the girls already shivering, and we were off to The Smugglers. The music was already pumping out of the door, and to my surprise there was a towering drag queen there with a list of names. A Diesel was behind the Queen, and after my name and those of the girls were ticked off, the Queen had to ask the Diesel about the lads. That woman grinned at me, and pointed at the list.

“Marlene’ said he’d put them down as this, and that you’d understand…”

The entry read ‘Northern Oiks, male, two off’.

It set the tone for the evening nicely. There was a table reserved for us, and there were party poppers to fire off, as well as a buffet of finger food snacks. Two, count them two discos were running, and while one was all pop shite, disco and Jimmy Somerville, the other was playing some heavier stuff, such as vintage Bowie and T-Rex. Not really my stuff, but acceptable enough as it went. There was a cloakroom for the evening, so we were able to pile our stuff there and let rip.

Let rip is what we did, in the end. I had started out intending to stay fully sober, but that plan derailed itself as the effect of the ‘safe space’ ambience hit me, and while I wasn’t actually wrecked by the end of the evening, I was certainly not sober enough to be anywhere near a steering wheel. It was Kim who pushed things along, Kim who kept us fed with snacks and plied with drinks, although three of us did the paying for them, and it was Kim that had all five of us ace-dancing to Status Quo, although it was Nell who had to be given a nudge when her jaw dropped as our two men went into a full-on snog after one dance. Kim whispered to her, and she simply nodded, looking slightly ashamed. I filed that away for a private chat some day, as I had a surprisingly sharp memory of Cooper trying to kiss me.

Not tonight, you fucker. Not ruining my Christmas, and there had been no hints from Heidi about any similar history for Nell.

Not tonight. Drink sensibly, dance despite everyone watching, and… Marlene was waving to me, holding up three fingers. Ah! Me and the girls. We left the lads to their snogging, which was most definitely being done with a disregard of any possible audience, and made our way over to her.

“Come on through to the backbar, girls! Something for you”

Once there, she went into full-on Marlene.

“Not got you anything, Girl, cause you never get Marlene anything. These two, I’ve got time to break in properly. These are from Moi, Kim, Nell”

She handed them each something that looked like a shoe box, and I groaned.

“Marlene, they’ve already got silly shoes!”

A sneer.

“Yes, they are. Far too sensible for Marlene, shoes like that. Anyway, those are not for anywhere near the feet, unless you are into some odd Japanese BDSM schtick. What do you think, girls?”

Kim duly opened her box, and her face lit up, as she showed the contents to Nell, who yelled in delight. Marlene pointed at the open box.

“Care and feeding instructions in the bottom, girls”

Once again, she turned to me.

“If you want to feel a right tit, I’ve given them one each, along with the left one. Better than old tights full of rice. Kim?”

“Yeah? And thanks, Marlene! What do you want to know?”

“I wouldn’t let Ruth cook fried rice with that lot if I were you. Happy Christmas!”

CHAPTER 32
The boys set off home on Boxing Day, timing their departure to match my own exit on the way to work. Graham had worked with Kim the day before to prepare the vegetables in the boot of his car along with the beef joint I had spotted hidden away in the back of the fridge, so our Christmas Dinner had been as good a meal as we could make it, and in as traditional a wat as possible, my lunch box carried sandwiches made from cold offcuts of the roast, prepared by Nell as the rest of us slumped over-full in front of the usual Bond film.

The three of us hugged fiercely before the lads drove away, and I fired up the bike for my ride to Bert’s yard.

It was exactly the sort of day I had expected, a little frantic in a controlled way, the boss himself in old jeans and a silly Christmas jumper knuckling down with his office staff to sort out loading lists and delivery routes. He had given as many drivers as he could a day off, but parked several wagons at the loading docks. I would do one round, return to the appropriate warehouse, hand over the keys and collect the tacho discs, and then climb into another lorry that was already loaded and ready for me. I was shattered by the end of the day, but Bert’s system worked well, and I actually left early, catching a flurry of rain that reminded me to think about overtrousers before actually starting a ride.

The twenty-seventh of December was almost as busy, but the next day was a lot calmer, and by the time New Year’s Eve came along, we were coasting. Most of the deliveries just then were of booze, and the breweries sorted their own drivers for that. The girls were getting ready when I got home, and I had enough time for a soak under the shower before starting my own ritual.

Jeans, this time, with my leather and cut-off. I ran my fingers over some of the rally badges, little tokens that carried so many memories… Sod it, Debbie Petrie Wells. Straights to outrage, dancing to be done, and not to bloody T Rex this time.

“Girls? Grab the sleeping bags and the camping mats, please, toothbrushes and whatever else you’ll need, and we are off!”

Out to the van, bedrolls and daysacks into the back, and off out of the city. The prospect on the clubhouse gate grinned up at me in recognition, showing me where to park, and before I was properly out of the van, I was hit by a hug from Gandalf.

“It is so good to see you again, Debbie! Introductions?”

“Right. This one’s Kim. She’s met Rosie already”

“Ah. I can still see the bruising, love, by the way. Hi, Kim”

I waved her forward.

“This is Wildcat’s Dad, Kim. One of my parents’ best friends. Gandalf, this one’s Eleanor, Nell. The girls are staying with me for a while”

“Aye. Rosie’s given me the S.P. already. Welcome, girls. You got your dancing feet on?”

Nell was back in shy mode again, but Kim was nodding happily.

“Yeah, and Debbie said we had to bring some ordinary shoes. Got sleeping bags and stuff as well”

“Right! Ah, here’s my other boy. Girls, this is Oily. He doesn’t bite”

Another all-enveloping hug from the man I considered a brother.

“I heard the words ‘sleeping bags, girl. Leave them in the van; I’ll send a prospect over later. Got beds for you, in the bunkhouse, if you get that far tomorrow”

Nell looked puzzled.

“Tomorrow?”

The big man laughed happily at her expression.

“Little lady, there will still be people partying well after the sun comes up again! I’m Oily, this one’s brother-in-law. What do we call you? I know Kim already”

“I’m… I’m Nell. I don’t…”

She shook her head, looking around the yard.

“This is all new to me, and I’m nervous”

“you don’t need to be scared of anyone here, girl”

She looked at me for a second, then directly at Oily.

“It’s not that. I think Debbie… I know Debbie wouldn’t take us anywhere unsafe. I’m just scared I’ll do something silly, upset someone”

Oily reached out for her hand, smiling so, so sweetly.

“There will be people doing really stupid things tonight, love, and we will video them for a laugh on other nights, but that’s how we live. See what’s on my back?”

He turned from the waist so that she could see his colours, then straightened to face her again.

“You’ll see some lads with just the bottom part, aye? They’re called prospects. Some of them are on duty tonight, you’ll know them when you see them, so you get any shit, you speak to one of them”

Nell smiled, more easily now.

“Like a ‘code purple’?”

Oily gave me a puzzled look, so I simply said “Another friend’s trick”, and he nodded.

“Chuck me the van keys, then, and I’ll put them with the rest. Oh, Nell, was it? Nell, we do that to stop people getting good ideas when they shouldn’t, about going for a ride and that. Rosie and her lad are in the bar, Deb”

He ambled off, pausing every so often to greet someone, and I led the girls into the main building, where Rosie yelled a greeting from the far end, Carl beside her looking up at her shout, and the warmest of smiles splitting his ruined face. Yet again, fierce hugs from both, and he gently turned my head to look at the remains of the black eye.

He croaked out a soft comment about Norley having been given the one and only chance he would ever receive, then turned to the girls, Rosie still wrapped protectively around Kim.

“My lover here has told me what happened, girls. I left her and my brother to deal with it, because Wildcat here tells me I am over-protective of my family, and that’s bollocks. No such thing as ‘over-protective’. I just protect. People who piss me off stop doing so very quickly. Debbie?”

“Yeah?”

“Sparky found out who was stupid and gobby. Sorted”

Oh… “He here?”

Carl shook his head, sadly.

“No, love. He says he wouldn’t be able to stay dry in here”

He held my gaze for a second, then grinned at the youngsters.

“You been told the rules for tonight?”

Nell bit, saying something about Oily’s advice, and Carl shook his head.

“Nope. Just two rules: apologise if you piss anyone off, and have a good time. That’s all”

Rosie pointed the girls at the bar, and pulled me to her for our own greeting.

“You are doing fucking well with those two, Sis. Any more problems coming up?”

I shook my head.

“Not that I know of. Looks like I’ll be getting a new girl in January. Nell’s out of her depth a little, though. She’s more classical music than rocker”

“Ah, she’ll be OK. I’ve put Elf on backwatching tonight, so nothing to worry about. Got a band on till eleven, and food’s free for the club. Prospects have been told you’re club, so no worries there”

She paused, her face falling just a little. I didn’t need her to tell me why, for I shared the same memories. After an obvious effort, her grin resurfaced.

“Like the old days, girl. Right? We rocking tonight, or what?”

Only one answer was possible.

“Fucking right we are!”

The next morning’s sunlight was too fierce for me, even though it was raining. I sat up on the bed, still in T-shirt and knickers, and reached for my jeans before padding to the toilet. So much for my plan to stay sober for the girls. Once the pressure was gone, I pulled the jeans on and looked at the beds nearby. Nell was curled up under an open bag, still fully dressed but fast asleep, and Kim was gone.

No panic, Wells. Remember where you are. I could smell bacon, so followed my nose back into the bar, where several people were sat around the room with plates of fried breakfast, Kim scurrying around as a waitress.

“Morning, Debbie! You were SO out of it last night!”

I took in the way she was dressed, along with the red rims to her eyes.

“You been to bed yet, girl?”

“Er, no. Not really. Had a doze in a chair, but it was getting light when I woke up, and Rockrose was starting to sort out brekky, so I thought I’d help out. That was an ace night!”

“What happened to Nell?”

“Oh, she was right into everything! Danced till she couldn’t stand up, then fell asleep on that settee over there. Pig and Rosie put her to bed”

She lowered her voice, almost to a whisper.

“Debbie, I mean, his face, yeah? All scary, isn’t it? But he is just so, so tender. Same with Rosie. It was like she was their own kid”

More memories, of a sweet man, sweeter kisses, but not now, woman. Not now.

“He’s a good man, Kim. They don’t come much better. Now, I think I need tea. Mouth’s full of crap. Sorry for getting pissed and leaving you on your own. I didn’t mean to”

She grabbed me with surprising strength, hugging me as fiercely as any of the others had.

“Don’t be so stupid. After what you’ve done for me and Nell? Like Pig said last night, isn’t it? Simple rules. Now, got a request, for when you’ve sobered up”

“Yeah?”

She held up a box of instant hot chocolate sachets.

“I’ve put some water in the urn. Could you take us down to that beach we went to? Southerndown? Nell got the boys to drive her everywhere, so I thought this would be my turn. That okay?”

I simply nodded, and after drinking the tea Kim provided me with, I headed back to the bunks to give Nell a shake. All three of us got outside a solid breakfast, followed a little later by a beef pie and mash, as friends old and new sat around tired or hungover, or both, before we piled everything back into the van. Another round of hugs, with a hint of moisture in the eyes of several of my family, and we were off down to the coast.

Nell was quiet all morning, and throughout the ride, while Kim chattered away about how great the night had been, how she had danced till her feet hurt, how sexy Oily was, “If he was, like, a LOT younger and not all hooked up!”. Hardly a word from the other girl; just an occasional shy smile at some comment or other. There were a few cars in the parking area, some families down on the shingle, the rain having lifted, a snowclad Exmoor shining across the Channel at us. It didn’t take long for the urn to heat, and we were soon sitting on the wall with a mug each of warm and aromatic liquid.

After a few moments of blowing and sipping, Nell raised her head.

“Debbie? Kim?”

I shuffled closer to her, ready to lay an arm over her shoulders if she needed one.

“Yes, love?”

“Did I embarrass you last night? Falling asleep like that?”

I put my arm around her, as she did indeed seem to need it.

“Not at all. Showed everyone you were enjoying yourself. Safe place, love, None safer. Bike rallies, aye? They have all sorts of silliness, like dizzy sticks and that, and people do silly shit, but every year they come back for more, and nobody gives a damn. All you did was have as good a time as you could till you ran out of steam, and that told everyone you’d enjoyed yourself. That’s all. Tell you what: I’ll take you to the rally Gandalf runs. You fancy that?”

She looked down again, giving a sharp little nod, before lifting her cup, and then her eyes.

“Please don’t laugh at me, but…”

She held her mug higher.

“To a new year and a new life!”

CHAPTER 33
The next few weeks were as dreary as that time of year often is, enlivened only by another visit from Dr Thomas, which left the girls smiling, and a solo drive out to the East. The boys’ home was in Overmonnow, with a name that, for once, didn’t leave me twitching with references to castles or river views, despite its location. Mrs Hughes, the director, manager, head screw, whatever, really seemed a decent woman, and the boys I encountered were actually laughing.

“Christopher is looking forward to meeting you, Miss Wells. I have had a number of rather interesting conversations with Social Services about his situation, and I am actually rather surprised they have somewhere… suitable. I assume you are aware of his predicament?”

“I am. Out of curiosity, what is your personal, um, appreciation of his ‘predicament’?”

She rose from her swivel chair and crossed to the office door, pulling it shut, then closed the window fully before sitting down once again.

“Simply put, Miss Wells, Christopher confided in me, I don’t know why, and I suspect it is the reason he was so effectively disowned by his family. I have carried out some research, but information is rather scarce. I found some stuff written by a man called Money, but that all seemed rather silly and confusing. My personal, um, appreciation, as you put it is that it is an area of great complexity that I doubt I will ever understand. What I do know is rather more simply put”

She reached below her desk, pulling a drawer open and producing a small tin pencil box, which she opened so that I could see the contents, which included a blade from a craft knife.

“Whatever my take on this, Miss Wells, Christopher is a cutter. Along with the drivel from Doctor Money, I have managed to find some useful information on his disorder, and there is one salient fact that I have pulled from it. Christopher is a delightful child, and I have avoided using other names or pronouns as a way of opening him up to bullying, which would be inevitable in the best of care establishments. I do not know if you are familiar with the unfortunate reputation our profession holds, but trust me, we are not all like Bryn Estyn, Mersey View or that abominable place in Carlisle. I have a simple aim in allowing Christopher’s move, and that is the hope that he may remain alive and healthy. My reading tells me that such an outcome is extremely doubtful if he remains here. Are you with me in that aim, Miss Wells, or are you simply another fly-by-night with a pecuniary interest?”

I sat for a few seconds in mild shock, knocked back by her ferocity, before offering the best reply I could think of.

“You mentioned Mersey View, Mrs Hughes. If I say I was what could be called intimately familiar with that place, will that clarify things?”

“Oh. OH! I see. Thank you for that. Miss Wells. I understand, I think. Thank you”

Another few seconds of silence, and then she gave me a brittle smile.

“Christopher is packed and waiting. Shall we introduce you?”

As she handed me the little tin box, she whispered, “The girl name is Catherine”

My new friend was sitting with a crossword book and pencil in what looked like a social room, with book shelves along the walls and a number of small tables, a pile of boxed board games on a sideboard. Christopher was dressed so neatly it must have hurt to move, in blazer and tie, but his hair was over his collar. He looked up at our entrance.

“Good morning, Christopher. This is Miss Wells, the director of your new home. All packed and ready to roll?”

“Yes, Mrs Hughes”

“Well, shall we be off, then?”

As he rose from his chair, she stepped forward, and the hug was utterly natural and mutual, as she whispered something into his ear.

“I will, Mrs Hughes. I promise”

She offered me a hand to shake.

“Miss Wells, thank you. Goodbye, Christopher”

An abrupt turn on her heel, and she was gone. I led the boy out to the van, stowing his small suitcase in the rear, and then invited him to climb into the front. Once in the driver’s seat. I turned to him with a smile.

“Clunk-click, Catherine”

His own sort-of-smile vanished, as I deliberately set the van rolling so that I had an excuse to break eye contact. Let him feel I was being casual, not straining to pick up his reaction.

“Couple of things you should know, love. I understand what your problem is, and that is why the social have transferred you to my care. I’ll talk, you listen, and if you don’t think it’s right for you, I can take you back. I don’t need to know everything just now, but I do need to know you’ll be happy to come with me. Nothing without your agreement, OK?”

“OK…”

“I run a private home. It’s in Cardiff, but I assume you know that. I have another job, driving HGVs, so a lot of the time it’ll be just yourself and my other guests. Friends, really. The thing is, the people I take in all have the same issue. Some of them are runaways, some have been dumped by their families. Some… Some have a history of self-harm”

I paused just then, using checking for traffic at a junction as a disguise for that little prod, but he said nothing.

“What they all have in common is that they are all girls, all girls who were told they were boys. From what a little bird tells me, that’s something you understand. Am I right?”

I risked a glance to my left, and he was weeping silently. As soon as I spotted a safe place, I pulled over and waited for his tears to run their course.

HER tears. The clothing was knocking my thoughts off track, but she was there, hiding underneath the blazer and stripey tie. Once she was done, with memories still fresh of Kim’s arrival, I asked two important questions.

“First, love, do you think we’ll be the right place for you?”

“Are you telling the truth?”

“Absolutely. No bullshit—er, no lying. I drive lorries for a living, and I’m a biker, so my language can be a bit fruity. Absolute truth”

“Then yes. It can’t be real, though. Like a prayer being answered, isn’t it? Got to be a catch. Why do you do this?”

“Simple answer is because I got out of a much worse place, and my Dad… My Dad said I should pay things forward. We all have obligations, and that’s mine”

“You said ‘first’. What’s second?”

“Simple, really. What do you like people to call you? I’ll have to introduce you when we get home, and it would be handy to know. Here, look in the glove box. There’s some wet wipes in there, and I do believe that we will have time to stop for a bite to eat on the way. The other girls like Maccy D, but I’m easy”

“Can you call me Cathy, please?”

I gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“Just between us for now, till we can get you something a bit more comfortable to wear. Save having problems with twats. There’s a Maccy just before Newport which will do”

I took another look to my left, so that she could see me grin.

“Lorry driver, me, and a biker. Mam and Dad were travellers. You get to learn where all the food stops are, as well as which ones not to stop at. Best clue is the size of the mug they give you for your tea”

“What do you mean?”

“Pint mugs, love. Even better if they do hot chocolate! A girl needs her chocolate, doesn’t she? Now, sounds. This is the acid test, the sort of music you like”

That brought a real laugh at last.

“All sorts, as long as it’s not like in that film”

“Eh?”

She put on an atrocious American accent.

“Both sorts, Country AND Western”

My own laugh was just as genuine.

“Nell is going to LOVE you! Her parents were into all that crap. She tells me her Dad even has the boots and hat!”

“NO!”

Ice broken at last, I drove on to the burger place, where we filled up on stuff I actually didn’t like that much, but it wasn’t me that needed the comfort. I was as careful as I could be with her name, and then I decided to take a risk, calling in at the same shopping centre I had visited with Kim and Nell. After parking up, I gave him the script as we walked across the tarmac.

“Right, SON for now, I have two girls at home. One of them is the same size as you. What I want to grab is a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, as well as a jacket, because this weather is shit. Do you know your waist, inside leg, shoe size and that?”

“Yeah”

I passed her pen and paper, then pocketed the resulting note.

“Got casual shoes in that case?”

“Trainers”

“They’ll do for now, then. Main thing will be the jacket and the top, for telling people you’re a girl. I just need you to try the jacket for fit. You up for that?”

In and out, there were no issues, apart from a ‘sympathetic’ woman who commiserated on the poor boy being used as a try-out for ‘his sister’s clothes’.

“And so tidy you are, isn’t it? Never mind, son!”

Back to the van, and Cathy started laughing, freely this time.

“If that woman only knew!”

She was looking at the bags wistfully, so I slid open the side door and waited while she changed in the back of the Transit, knocking on the bulkhead to let me know when she had finished. As soon as I opened the door again, she scurried around into the passenger seat, face red. I set the van in gear, and pulled away for the main road home. As soon as we were out of the car park, she sighed.

“Couple in the car park, Miss Wells, they saw me go in the back dressed as a boy, then come out like this”

“Fuck’em. You’ll never see them again. How do you feel now?”

“Don’t know yet. Far to go?”

“Not that far. And it’s ‘Debbie’, not Miss Wells. Where are you from, by the way?”

“Raglan”

“Good. Far enough away we shouldn’t be running into anyone that’s known you before. Now…”

I stuck on some Sandy Denny, and Cathy settled back to listen, before jerking upright again.

“I know that voice! Isn’t she with Led Zep?”

“Um, no. She’s not with anyone anymore, but yeah, she did a track on Zep Four, I think”

“I like her voice. You got more?”

“Loads. I think you and Kim are going to get on. Now, awkward driving to do for a bit, so enjoy Sandy and…”

I tailed off, concentrating on getting the bulk of the van through late afternoon traffic and then around the back of our house. I sat with her for a couple of minutes as the engine ticked and cooled.

“Right, love. This is it. It’s actually two houses, with a connecting door. We are very security conscious, because of a number of reasons, one of which I know is still showing next to my eye. There are only two other girls with me right now”

I noticed her twitch at ‘other girls’, then smile. I carried on with the introduction.

“Kim will be out for a while because she has a part-time job in a café around the corner. Nell should be in, and knowing her will be studying. The only other person you may see regularly, apart from the Social, a police liaison officer and the doctor, is a good man called Sparky, who does building work for me. Every other person who calls will either be a personal friend or will be told to go away. Got that?”

She nodded.

“Grab your stuff, then. Hang on… here’s Kim now”

I climbed down from the cab, and hugged Kim hello, and she looked over to the passenger window.

“New friend?”

“Catherine. Cathy. You ready for her?”

“I will be. Give me a minute, and I’ll warn Nell and get the kettle on”

I spent longer than necessary locking up the van, and then a thought occurred to me.

“Cathy?”

“Yeah?”

“Mrs Hughes whispered something to you as we left. Is it something you can tell me?”

Eyes down once more, she nodded.

“Yes. She just asked me to write to let her know I was OK, and… and said ‘Good luck, Cathy’. I don’t…”

She looked straight at me once more, shaking her head gently.

“I don’t know if she really understands, but she’s tried, and that’s all I can ask, I suppose”

“You’ve got that right, love, but that’s where we are different, us lot here. We really DO understand. Come on; Kim’s got the kettle on, and she had a pot in her hands, so we might have something nice for tea”

I led her in, dumping her case by the back door, and took her into the living room, where Kim had the tea waiting.

“Kim, Nell: this is Cathy. She’s going to be staying with us. Nell, no. Led Zep and Sandy Denny”

Miss Beige sighed.

“Ah well. Better than Country and Western, I suppose”

Kim cheered.

“Great! Which bedroom you giving her, Debbie? And that’s apple crumble in the pot for later, and I made it, so someone called Nell or Cathy can do some custard!”

CHAPTER 34
Life got a little more complex with three guests, but they really seemed to settle with each other. Kim and Cathy clicked immediately on the music, while the latter’s studious nature chimed with Nell’s own shyness. Kim pleased me once more, with an offer of simple kindness. Rather than have Cathy as the first occupant of the second house, Kim moved her stuff into one of the bedrooms there and handed her own room to the newcomer. Such strength in one so young.

We had, naturally, the series of visitors I had warned Cathy about, including a steadily more welcome Paul. Heidi arranged a school place in a local sixth form college for Nell, which initially worried me but in the end really brought her out of her shell, and later in the year, Heidi also arranged for Kim to sit her GCSEs in maths, English and whatever the hell they were calling ‘cookery/home economics/being a good traditional wifey’ that year. I had memories of my own experience that way, sitting my own GCSEs, the shitty and gobby girls who had abused me, so I begged some time off from Bert, just enough to allow me to collect her after each exam. When I asked her how the other pupils were reacting, as she emerged from her last session, she just grinned.

“Does my street cred real good! Look, Kim’s Mam is a bad-arse biker bitch! Best be nice to her!”

“I think they actually say ‘bad-ass’, love”

“Na. Sounds stupid talking about donkeys. Anyway, my arse can’t really be bad cause I got whistled by a couple of the lads. Can we stop by Maccy D’s?”

Sod it. She’d worked hard, so I let her have her greasy treat.

Paul found me guest number four, just as my two older charges’ college broke for the Summer, and that was a game changer. He came to the back door at the end of July, which surprised me because it wasn’t his usual night to visit. I brought him into the kitchen, which was being used more and more as an airlock, keeping the inner door shut. He looked drained.

“What’s up? This isn’t your normal schedule, is it?”

“Bit of an emergency, Debbie. Had the word from a couple of the girls over to Splott, off East Tyndall Street. Wanted to run something past you, but I think I can guess your answer. I spoke to Nita earlier”

“How shitty is this one, butt? Another Kim?”

He shook his head, sadly.

“Worse, Deb. Lot worse… Look, could we run this one past your girls? I really need to know what they think”

I nodded, leading him into the living room, where Kim was slumped in an armchair, in jeans and T-shirt as she nodded along to some music, while Cathy, who seemed to be going all Laura Ashley on me, was on the settee with Miss Beige, talking about some book or other. I gave Kim a tap on the arm as I passed, and she paused her CD, pulling off the headphones.

“Paul here wants to run some stuff past you, girls. I have a bit of an idea what it might involve, so let him speak first, questions later. Got me?”

Three nods. I gave another one to Paul, and he drew a long, slow breath before speaking.

“Been a busy couple of months for us, ladies. Started with a rape over to Southerndown”

I saw Kim and Nell start up at that one, but both shut their mouths again, hanging onto their obvious questions. Paul nodded at them.

“Yes, I know you like that place. Girl was sixteen. Punched silly as well. Anyway, we have another youngster to worry about. Long, long story, but I’ll try and sum up. A girl, runaway. Sixteen years old. Not that clued up”

He looked hard at Kim, who shrugged.

“Anyway, she had some stupid ideas, the first one being that she could find casual work, make her own life, that sort of thing. First night she was out, she had her bedroll stolen. Up comes an even stupider idea: turn tricks, as the Yanks call it. Off she goes to where all the girls are, her only party dress and heels on, and starts doing the waiting-under-a-streetlight stuff. The thing is, she’s not really… she’s not exactly what it says on the label. A girl like you three, she is. Got a stupid idea that she’ll tell any customer that she only does French, keep her knickers on. First bloke she pulls, he decides he’s after the full Monty, so he rams his hand up, and doesn’t like what he finds there, so she gets a serious beating”

He looked hard at me, nodding.

“Yes, Deb, like that Sarah Powell case. Not quite the same, though. This girl is still out there, not in Casualty. The paramedics came out after a shout from one of the Toms, and gave her some treatment, but she won’t go to Casualty in case her Mam and Dad find her. That’s it, in a nutshell. I think you all know what I am asking”

Kim nodded at the other two, and Nell gave a wide-armed shrug that clearly said the answer was obvious. My first girl stood up and went to get her leather, calling over her shoulder as she went.

“You riding with us, Paul? Scare her less if we don’t take your car”

He slumped, a little bit of his tension easing.

“Thanks, ladies. Thank you all”

Cathy stood as well.

“Nell and I will sort a room out for her. I’ll put the water heater on as well, so she can have a bath”

I grabbed my own leather, as well as the van keys, and a short while later, the three of us were crossing the tracks on Splott Road, Paul guiding us around to a back street where several women in very short skirts were standing around, each near a street lamp. He showed me where to park up, then opened the window and called out.

“Moira?”

A ravaged woman with a mass of curly hair stepped forward, her mane glinting red as she came into the light.

“Copper? Not your normal wheels, is it?”

“Got a friend here, come to look after the kid”

I stepped out and walked around the front of the van. She grinned, a couple of teeth missing.

“I know you1 You’re Sparky’s mate, isn’t it? Had a couple of meals off him, na? You the one taking the kid? You working for coppers now, then?”

“I don’t work for coppers. I work for kids who need me”

“Aye. I know about your tea runs as well. Come over here some nights, be nice. Posh has the kid round the corner, aye? Paramedics say it’s all soft bits, no bones gone, but she’ll need someone to check her bollocks are OK”

She whistled, and another working girl came out, supporting a slight figure in bare feet, carrying one shoe. Moira bent down to talk to her, voice a lot less raucous.

“Maisie? This woman here is one of the good ones. We all know her. She’s not the Filth, she’s not the Social, she’s not some shitty care home bitch. You go with her, and you get well, and you find another way to live, aye? This life, it’s shit. You don’t want to be in it”

The child mumbled something and the woman supporting them replied, slurring her words.

“Like we have a fucking choice, Moira and me? Come on; Mo’s due along in a bit, so I’ll need to be busy, and you, Welby, you don’t help us find trade, so piss off, please”

They helped the kid up into the front seat, Paul moving to the back of the van with a muttered comment about seatbelts, and as we pulled away, I checked in the rear view mirror. The one called ‘Posh’ was already leaning into the front window of a car.

What a fucking life.

I parked up round the back once more, and Paul and Kim helped the girl through the kitchen and into the living room, where they settled her into an armchair. Kim called over to Cathy as she came from the hallway.

“Cathy, love? I left a pot of soup in the fridge for tomorrow. Want to warm some for Maisie here?”

She turned back to the bruised girl.

“When did you last eat, love?”

“What’s today?”

“Thursday”

“Two days, then. Where am I?”

“You asking cause you’re wobbly or you asking cause you want to know who we are?”

“Who you are, I s’pose”

“Simple. This woman here, she’s Deb, and she looks after people like us. Special girls”

The girl, Maisie, struggled to sit up, eyes wild.

“No! Not doing that! Let me go!”

It was Cathy who caught her meaning, as she returned from the cooker, and she swept forward in her floaty dress, kneeling down in front of the child.

“No, love. Not like that. Safe place, this one. Not what you thought. Never like that”

The girl grabbed her hands.

“You sure? Really sure?”

“Absolutely. Kim there’s just done her GCSEs, Nell and me, and I’m Cathy, we’re doing our A-levels now. That’s all the work we ever do, and nothing like… Not that sort of place. I mean, Kim has a job at the café round the corner, and she could TRY doing some of her own laundry, but hey”

Kim caught on immediately, and mock-snapped back.

“Yeah, well, who was it borrowing WHOSE clothes when they first got here? Payback time, girl!”

Nell moved over to join the team.

“All this place is, all Deb does, is give a safe place to girls like us. Now, Cathy and me, we’ve set a room up for you, it’s got its own lock if you feel you need it. We’ve put the heater on for a bath, which you can stay in as long as you want, and Cathy and me, we’ve left you some ‘jamas and a dressing gown on the bed. Want some soup before we take you up?”

“Please…”

I followed Cathy into the kitchen, shutting the door as she stirred the soup after pulling on an apron.

“What have I missed, love?”

“Nothing complicated, Debbie. I think she thought this was a specialist brothel”

“Oh for fuck’s sale!”

Kim slipped in, shutting the door, just in time to catch Cathy’s remark.

“Yeah. Wonder what her home life was like. What we doing with her, Deb? I’m going to be out all day tomorrow, and you’ve got work as well”

“You see yourself as the boss here now, don’t you?”

“Well, someone has to. Nell and Cathy, they’re both a bit airy-fairy, aren’t they?”

Cathy went “Oy!”, which actually made me laugh with that comment, and Kim waited till I had wiped my nose before putting her hand on my arm.

“Seriously, the others will be with her. I’ll have a quiet word with Ruth, get something tasty for tomorrow evening. Paul says he’ll help, so ask him if he can get a doctor to visit. Nell and Cathy will manage all right, even if they are airy-fairy”

I stepped back into the living room, and asked Paul about getting a doctor, and he pointed to his radio.

“FME is on her way. I gave her a quick explanation of why we were neither in the nick or in Casualty, and she swore something amazing. Said she’d be her in twenty minutes. I’ll hang on for that, then get out of your way. I wouldn’t say no to some of that soup, though. Missed a meal break with this job, and the smell is making my guts growl”

I passed his request to Cathy, and she nodded. Kim muttered something about ‘aroma not smell’, and that actually brought a smile to Maisie’s face. Kim spread her arms, mirroring Nell’s earlier gesture almost exactly.

“Well, muggins here made the stuff, so nyah to him! Reminds me. Got no bread in, Debbie. You able to pick some up tomorrow for us?”

The teasing and mundane conversation seemed to be settling the girl, so I left Kim to do her thing, pulling Paul into the kitchen as Cathy passed us with a bowl of soup.

“Yours is on the side there, Paul!”

“Thanks, love. Stomach thinks my throat’s been cut. What you want, Debbie?”

“Just a catch-up, really. What was with the two women?”

“Moira and Posh? You really need to ask?”

“Well, Posh looked pissed, and isn’t Moira a bit old for that life?”

He sighed.

“Posh isn’t, wasn’t drunk. She needed a fix. Probably end up sharing it with Moira. And Moira’s thirty two”

“Fuck!”

“Yeah. I know Sparky’s been dropping some meals their way, but like they said, might be nice if you could do one of your hot drink runs that way, if the weather gets shitty”

I looked at him a little more closely.

“I thought you’d be a bit more, you know, copper about them”

He dipped his spoon into the soup, savouring it for a few seconds.

“This is good. Kim’s doing well, isn’t she?”

“She is. Answer the question, Paul”

“Well, should be obvious. Girls are in the life for a reason, isn’t it? Nobody with a real choice goes on that game. It’s a toss-up whether they go on the heavy stuff because of their work, or the other way around. Both, I think. I keep a sharps box in the car, and some clean needles. One of these days… No, PC Welby, not now”

“One of these days you’ll…?”

He checked the kitchen door.

“One of these fucking days I will lock up that fucker Mo for a very, very long time. Leave it there, Debbie”

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the front door, so I did my usual trick of walking round from the back of the house, to find a middle-aged woman in slacks and fleece jacket, carrying a green backpack I immediately recognised.

“Can I help you?”

“I don’t know. I’m looking for a policeman, a PC Welby?”

I nodded.

“You the doctor?”

“Yes”

“Come round the back, please. I’m Debbie Wells. This is my place”

Through the security system once more, which raised her eyebrows, and into the living room, where Maisie’s bruising caused her mouth to twist.

“Do you have somewhere private for an examination?”

“Dining room, or the bedroom I’ve put her in?”

“Dining room will do, if it’s private. I can tell she needs a clean-up”

“Girls have put the heater on for a bath. We’ll feed her first, though”

“Thank you. What do we call you, my love?”

“Maisie”

“Right, Maisie. I’m Doctor Moore. I work for the police, part of the time, as what they call a Force Medical Examiner. I check people over to make sure any bruises left by the coppers aren’t visible”

She grinned.

“My little joke, love. Now, all I really want to do is make sure there are no problems that the ambulance crew have missed. The Police tell me that they are simply placing you here for safety. Nobody to be told where you are, no criminal charges, nothing like that, but before they can sign you off, they need confirmation you’re healthy enough. That OK?”

The girl nodded, and Doctor Moore led her out of the room, returning half an hour later.

“Any chance of a cup of coffee, Miss Wells?”

Kim rose first.

“Anyone want a hot chocolate?”

The doctor laughed.

“forget the coffee, then! Maisie? Choccy?”

The youngster nodded, and as she sat down again Nell went to the dining room for a couple of chairs. The doctor finished zipping up what was clearly a very comprehensive medical kit, and turned to Maisie.

“That’s me done, for now. As these ladies will be looking after you, are you happy for me to share what I found out?”

After a nod in reply, she continued, as Kim returned with a tray of steaming mugs.

“Nothing nasty, but I would normally want her observed for a while. Casualty is out of the question, so I shall leave you with some guidance. I don’t think she will be walking comfortably for a week or so. Nothing seems ruptured, but I would like to come back in a couple of days for another look, if you don’t mind. Essentially, that’s me done---ooh, ta, love, that smells good”

Maisie looked up from her own mug.

“She says it’s an aroma, not a smell, Doctor”

“Don’t make me laugh when I’m drinking, love! I don’t want to have to wash this blouse; it’s fresh on”

She quickly ran through the ‘observation’ guidance, then nodded to Paul after draining her mug.

“I grabbed a bus to get here, mate. You able to give me a lift?”

He rose, nodding.

“Absolutely. I think we need to be off now, anyway. Leave Maisie to settle in. Just remember, love: anything you can remember about the man that beat you up, I will be happy to work from. Good night, ladies”

In the end, Maisie fell asleep in the bath, so two of us helped her out and settled her in Kim’s old room, Cathy moving this time. It was Nell who climbed in with Maisie, around two in the morning, when the nightmare woke her.

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. I realised how much I depended on her support only when things took a little turn for the worse.

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. That meant that I had to rely more and more on Kim’s innate good sense to settle Maisie in, as I worked my shifts for Bert.

Cathy was the girl who really 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. I caught her on her own one evening, working through some book or other on rock formations or erosion or something like that, in the other living room/study, bringing her a hot chocolate.

“How are things going with the new girl?”

She put a bus ticket on the page she was reading and closed the book, pushing a lock of her steadily-growing hair back behind an ear.

“Not wonderful, Debbie. I don’t think she’s got there yet?”

“Got where, love?”

Her head tilted to one side.

“I know that Mrs Hughes told you about my little box. You tried to get me to talk about it on the drive here, remember? Not that subtle, Ms Wells”

“Well, yeah. I needed to get some idea what to expect, and it isn’t the easiest thing to bring up, is it? Cold?”

“Well, that’s actually the point. When I was… when I used to do things to myself, you know what it was? It was control”

“Eh?”

“My life… I had nothing that was mine. I had nothing I had a say in, just told what to do. You’re a boy, this is what boys do. This is how boys dress. Nothing from me, no choices. When I was… when I got my little box out, it was a little space, a little moment, where I was in charge. I could choose where, how deep, how many. I sound mad, don’t I?”

“No, Cathy. You don’t. I know all about things happening to me without consent. Are you still… Do you still feel the need for that stuff?”

She smiled, in a completely natural way.

“No. Not any more. I have control now, at least until Kim starts complaining about kitchen work needing doing. Look at this dress”

It was a pretty thing, completely not to my own taste, and it was typical of hers in being flared in the skirt, fitted in the bodice, in a soft rose-pink print, with a cream cardigan over it.

“What about it?”

“Well, remember fumbling in the back of the van to get changed, and then going up into town with you all to pick my own stuff? I picked this one out. I chose it, I decided to put it on today, I chose what I’ll wear to college tomorrow. Control, Debbie. More control than I ever dreamt of. That answer the question?”

I nodded, and she grinned.

“Got a question of my own now! How’s that for control?”

“Go ahead, O Mighty One!”

She snorted with laughter, then looked at her mug.

“Too much of this and I’ll be the Fat Controller. Anyway, Maisie first. She’s terrified someone will find out where she is. Terrified of going out. I was thinking: do we have some time to take her right away, be herself? Kim and Nell were talking about your friend Pat, the mountains and stuff. Nell said you mentioned biker parties as well. They told me how protective the bikers were. I think that’s what might work for Maisie”

“What? Loud music and camping, or long walks and camping?”

“Either. Just being somewhere that is either closed off from outsiders, or so far away that there’s no prospect of her being found by someone she doesn’t want to see”

“I may have just the do. We’ve missed the Fumble, but I know one almost as good. You want to run it past her and the others together?”

“Will do”

“And your own question?”

“Yeah. Me and Nell, really. Uni. It’s…”

She grinned suddenly, happily.

“Control, Debbie! And a future worth waking up for. I want to do geology”

“Ah. I wondered why you were reading schoolbooks at this time of year”

“It’s actually the first year set book for Aberystwyth. Getting a head start. Nell and me, we’ve been looking at places. She wants to do history, of all things. I asked her why not music, and she said cause she can’t play anything. That’s another thing. We take our A-levels in a year, and when we’re eighteen, well, we’re both eighteen before we sit them, and we can change our names at eighteen, legally, and it means no silliness with certificates, and we go to Uni as ourselves and not in the wrong names, because if we pass our A-levels, then that’s the name the Uni sees, and, well, stuff”

I stared at her for a few seconds.

“You’ve really been giving this some thought, haven’t you?”

A sharp nod. I took her hand.

“Tell you what, you speak to the others, and I will give Rosie a shout, see if they’ll be at the Welsh Coast do, and if there might be a couple of pillions going free, and I’ll also see what Pat’s doing later in the month. That do?”

I stood, collecting the mug as I did so.

“Oh, yes: those books are expensive. They come out of house funds from now on, okay?”

A sharp nod once again, and I headed for the phone to give Rosie a shout. The ensuing conversation alleged that I was an idiot, of course they would be going, both clubs, and the women would have some spare pillion seats, anyone playing rally virgin games would end up eating their own teeth, and did I need a spare tent?

The weekend before the do, Rosie and Rockrose dropped a bundle of spare clothing off for the girls as well as some helmets, and I found a small rucksack for each one.

“Tip for you three: Once on the bike, loosen the shoulder straps so that the rucksack sits down onto the bit behind you, but keep the chest strap fastened. That way, it won’t dig into your shoulders, nor force your head forward. Maisie? We need a little chat, OK?”

I took her into the dining room so that Cathy and Nell could dig into their books in the study, and as if by instinct, Kim followed us a couple of minutes later with two steaming mugs, then left us to our chat.

“The others are worried about you, love. That you’re scared of men getting in, men who know you, that is”

She started trembling, and as always, I reached out for a hand. Mam and Dad had taught me so well.

“The general opinion is that you need to get out into the world, but do it somewhere nobody might see the person they thought you were. Am I right? Are you up for this?”

“Who will be there?”

“A lot of really scary bikers, but that’s not just the women, but my sister and her girls. Her old man will be there with his own club and they will have people watching for problems, all day and all night. My sister told me that anyone who bothers any of you will be eating their own teeth before they finish opening their mouths. Trust her on that one”

“What do we do there?”

“Arrive, put up a tent, get drunk or don’t get drunk, play silly games, eat unhealthy food and dance ourselves into exhaustion to loud music. Oh, and the site is absolutely gorgeous”

“If it rains?”

“Big marquee. You up for it, love?”

“Who will I sleep with? Not on my own?”

“No, not at all, unless you want to. Me and Kim, it would be. The other two will be in one of Rosie’s spare tents”

“Okay, then”

I could feel the tremor in her hand, so once more, by instinct, I took another hurting child into my arms.

In the end, the weather stayed fine, the usual suspects found someone else to strip naked, and I found a few moments, and a quiet spot up one of the lanes heading for the mountains to shed some tears for Mam and Dad. I stayed sober(ish), as did Kim, while Cathy got merry, Nell got VERY merry, and a succession of prospects and patches of the Falkiri MC, Rosie’s newly formed club, stayed within close reach of Maisie as she slowly settled into the mood of the place, relaxing enough to dance to the early disco, before really letting rip when the band came on.

What really seemed to break through to her was the simple presence of children. Carl was on ‘business’ again for part of the weekend, once more with that big Englishman I remembered from so many years ago, but this time he had a dark-haired woman with him and three kids. I could read Maisie’s mind: kids; families; safety. That was what sent me up the lane for a solitary bout of weeping, because I could see myself there. Two girls and a boy were what he had, and it wasn’t just myself I saw there, but Rosie and poor, murdered Sam.

Class, woman. Whose weekend is this, in the end? Maisie to look after. Find some backbone, show some class, but let the tears run their course.

CHAPTER 36
It was a little bit quieter on the ride home, as tired bodies recovered from hangovers, and nobody was really in a rush to leave such a lovely spot. We took a break at the top of the first real climb, where the quarries looked out over the flatter lands to the North, before descending to the busier ‘Amman’ towns and the faster roads back to Cardiff. After we got home, both bathrooms had queues for the balm of hot water, but I made the girls lay the tents out to dry and air before they indulged in steam and soak.

“Maisie?”

She looked up at me, a peg bag in her hand as she set the contents on a bed of dry newspaper.

“Yeah…”

“What did you think of the weekend?”

She stared at me for a few seconds, and I realised she was trying to work out the reason for my question. Was it a request for an honest opinion, or a test?

“Um. It was good. Er…”

She paused, and then suddenly grinned, as she decided which way to play her hand.

“Willies! That man they tied down on the grass, he had… It was like a button, yeah?”

“Ah, girl, the Lazy Riders, they do that every bloody year…”

The conversation drifted into my own memories of other rallies, and she was smiling naturally now, with occasional chuckle.

“You fancy another trip like that?”

“I get a choice?”

“Absolutely. My girls, our friends here, we do things together, but nobody ever has to do something they don’t want to. Maisie, love: all of us have been in places where somebody else tells us what we have to do. That doesn’t happen here. You’ve seen how good the doors are, you’ve met Rosie and Carl?”

“What happened to his face?”

I took a deep breath, trying to find the words, and then they arrived in a rush.

“He loved someone, and another man hurt them, so Carl gave all he had to give, tried to make things right again. That’s the sort of man you can trust, but I can see you have worries about men, so have a think on this. You’ve met Carl and Rosie. I know you met a right pig before Posh and Moira found you. So, if you ever feel worried, just think about how Carl and Rosie might treat anyone who pisses me off, or does that to anyone I care about, aye?”

“Fuck… yeah. Not healthy for them, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely. So you have them, and you have three girls here who care about you. Three other girls”

That last was deliberate, of course, but it did what I wanted it to do, and that, in hindsight, was the real beginning of Maisie’s healing, although we did start keeping men away from the House as a policy.

That was a two-part decision. Many of my past and future girls had been so brutalised by men that they couldn’t deal with their presence, unless they were carefully prepared. Exceptions could be made, Paul and Sparky being good examples, Carl another, but the principle was set, as was the name of our place.

There was never any way on Earth, not a snowball’s fucking chance in Hell, that I would call our establishment anything that mentioned castles, keeps, hills, views, and so it became, by default, ‘The House’, which ignored the fact that it was actually two houses. The next step, before Nita, Heidi and Paul hit me with what turned out to be a pile of serious ‘problems’, was to take the van to the mountains. It needed a little preparation first, as there were now five of us, and that meant seats to the rear, as well as an adaptation of the partition to take a window with a sliding panel. A couple of the lads at work knew their way around that sort of thing far better than I did, so with the help of a decent meal at Ruth’s each, we had wheels suitable for our days in the hills, and a visit to the big outdoor shop had the rest of my growing flock properly outfitted.

Thank god for the government money Heidi and Nita were sending me.

We went up. Pat met us there, and of course it pissed down almost non-stop. Our tents were sound, we ate in pubs and cafes, and the back of the van, and my old friend led us on easier walks that still involved moments where we were walking shin-deep through flowing water. Our trip back was broken by outbursts of laughter from the girls as Kim and Nell tried to explain how gorgeous the place really was, honestly, trust me, you HAVE to see it when, and Maisie made the cutting remark that at least the bathroom was warm when it was all steamed up. Nell steered the replies to that one, calling through the open panel in the partition.

“Maze?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you feel when you were in your bag, listening to the rain?”

The new girl sat in silence for a few seconds, gathering her thoughts before replying.

“Will you promise not to laugh?”

“Of course, unless you tell a joke. But we don’t normally laugh at yours anyway, do we?”

“Bitch! Anyway, trying to be serious here. In the sleeping bag, yeah? All snuggled up and warm, and the rain… The sound, made me feel safe, somehow. Once I got to trusting the tent, it was like being in a nest, safe, warm, and it was really comforting. Like the world was all cut off, just me and Kim in there, all the worries and problems locked away. That’s how it felt. Until I had to get up for a wee, of course”

That last brought a chuckle, and a squeeze of Maisie’s hand from Kim, but there was still a rush to be first for the bathroom when we finally got home. The girl was most definitely healing, and with a slight pang of jealousy, which surprised me, I realised that most of the hard work was being done by the other children.

I slapped myself down mentally for that thought. I might not have done as much as Mam and Dad had for me, but then again how could I ever live up to their standards? I had, however, done my best, and it was working well, and that was all the credit I needed.

We made our way through the Summer, and Maisie bloomed. Dr Thomas made his visits, I carried on with the ‘day job’, and that little moment at the rally faded into my memories, although I was certainly enough of an adult by then to realise that some wounds can never fully heal, that a raw spot can stay in the mind forever, wrapped in numbing layers but still capable of cutting through them.

Cathy was doing the residents a service just then, triggered by a remark from Dr Thomas, and as the Internet steadily became the massive affair it is now, she was trawling for news items, all on the subject of law and how we fitted into it. Case after case came up, and while the coverage varied in style from outright hatred of people like us to an almost patronisingly saccharine ‘positive’ strand, Cathy was filtering the reality from the opinion. There were several high-profile ones, but what Cathy turned up left me seething.

Each one seemed to start in one of two ways. Somebody would be treated badly, they would complain, and the resulting outcome always seemed to add up to “Well, what should a pervert/freak/abomination like you expect?”

The second way a story would start was, to my eyes, far worse. Someone would be living their life the same way as anyone else would hope to, and some filthy little shit of a self-styled ‘journalist’ would find out that their history was like mine, as far as their womanhood, that is, and the papers would proceed to open up their privacy and comprehensively shit all over it in the name of ‘legitimate public interest’. Many years later, met one of the victims, and they told how the vermin had doorstepped their colleagues, digging for the ‘Ugh! Vile!’ reaction, and when the response was one of love, acceptance and support, the rags just made up their own lies.

The paper I really grew to hate was the Mail, but I despised the News of the World. Nothing could ever be beneath them because they dwelt at the lowest of all levels. I watched Cathy as she fed me her little summaries, and what I saw there was despair. She and Nell would change their names, their A-levels would be awarded appropriately, they would, if all went as planned, succeed at university in the same way, but. Always that ‘but’. I caught her one day as she stood in the kitchen with knife drawer open, her back to me as she simply stared at the contents.

“I can hear you breathing, Debbie”

“You okay?”

Her own breath shuddered for a second, before she pushed the drawer to.

“I will be. Have to be. Someone has to be there to watch Nell’s back, am I right?”

She pushed her hands into the pockets of her chunky cardigan and took the few steps needed to allow her to lay her head on my breast.

“Why do so many people hate us?”

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, sharing our warmth.

“Count how many people don’t, love”

CHAPTER 37
I watched Cathy carefully for a few weeks after that incident, her comments about the need for control still fresh in my mind, but for once it was Nell who stepped up to the mark, engaging her attention with almost obsessively detailed queries about UCCA or whatever it was called, as she planned both girls’ future university careers.

It took my mind off my worries for the two, which allowed me to steer Maisie into the same A-level college Nell and Cathy would leave the following Summer, and that in turn gave them someone else to look after.

That seemed to be the running theme of the House, that those most in need of support seemed to get most of it from looking after others. Whatever the reason, however it worked, all I cared about was the fact that it did work, and their mutual support left me free to worry about the outliers and prepare for any new guests.

I kept my own habits going, although my birdwatching had been forced to adapt to the flooding of ‘Cardiff Bay’, just before the century slipped away to let a new one in. There was a little bit of reedbed and mudflat left, rather than the vast expanses of open silt I had grown used to, and if I say that Bert was unhappy with the destruction of his favourite place for standing behind a stupidly-large telescope I will be understating things more than a little.

For me, it was another matter that annoyed me, and that was what came to be called ‘gentrification’. The people on the biker scene, the regulars up the road at Harry’s pub, the lads who unloaded part-baked bread from my wagon and wheeled it into Tesco’s back doors, they were all real people. They shopped in real shops, drank in real pubs (except for those who preferred the lager factories), and they ate in greasy spoons, back street curry houses, kebab shops and the like.

The new face of what came to be called the Waterfront, down by the new Assembly building, rapidly became a wasteland of chain shops that seemed to lack all character. The plague of the expensive coffee hit the place like the Black Death, and all character was packed up and shipped out.

Someone like Harry, or Marlene, made their places their own, in the way they interacted with their customers, even in how they chose those customers they were willing to serve. Something like Starbucks, or Costa, simply reflected a corporate image, and there were times when the massive companies that ran them tried to be quirky, or whimsical, and it was a close run thing between my distaste for their product and my nausea at their twee games as to which one left me retching.

A couple of places hung on, one or two pubs, but the rest went plastic. Even the end of Tyndall Street got a plastic makeover at what was known as the Magic Roundabout.

As the Autumn started to cool down, I had more time to myself. Cathy and Nell were slogging away for their A-levels, the former keeping an eye on what powers the Assembly might be able to bring into play about recognising their status, while at the same time watching Maisie’s back. Kim was just Kim, utterly dependable in every way, as Ruth never hesitated in telling me. Doc Thomas, Heidi and Nita were there every so often to check that we were on a safe course, and properly trimmed, and the nights slowly drew in.

I knew what was coming, as Paul chafed and winced at every rain squall and colder evening.

“When are you next out on the tea run, Debbie?”

“When it starts getting colder. What’s niggling?”

We were in the living room with the girls, another armchair squeezed in for his sake, and all the girls were settled in their own way. The two older ones were in the ’study’ working away on whatever assignment they had, Kim was slumped with her eyes closed and headphones on, and Maisie was pretending to read a book while clearly earwigging like mad. She was still a little nervous of Paul, as a man, but seemed to be willing to work with him, at least for the time being.

He took a long sip of his tea before replying.

“It’s a few things, Debbie. There’s a few dates, a few triggers, for runaways. One of them is the end of the long school holidays. If they’ve been getting crap at school, they see the return coming up, and they’re off. The other big date coming up is Christmas”

“Long way to go till then, butt!”

“I know, but it’s always a bad time for anyone that’s on their own, or think they are. We get a lot of the kids, the new ones, ending up on the streets around then. And then it’s the heavy time for the working girls”

“Ah. Darker evenings?”

“Yeah. Mr Randypants likes to do his kerb-crawling when he stands least chance of being seen and recognised. Darker evenings indeed. Means the girls are out more, and they don’t exactly dig out the winter woollies any more than they do in July. And it’s drunks, groups of them”

“Eh?”

“Some lads think it’s funny to pretend to be potential customers. Especially around office party season, get pissed, drive around and waste the girls’ time. Someone like Mo then gives them a kicking for not meeting their quota, or whatever he calls it. And some of the drunks simply cut out the middleman and do the kicking themselves”

“Beat up the girls?”

“Yup. That’s how Moira lost her teeth. Too many blokes, they get drunk, and suddenly they find the need to be good and virtuous citizens. I spend a lot of time in Casualty over Christmas and New Year”

Maisie was hanging on his words, her book forgotten.

“Like that man who beat me up, Paul?”

He sighed, and nodded.

“Sort of, or rather sometimes. It’s a mix, really. There’s the customer who doesn’t get what he wants, or doesn’t want to pay. Then there are the ones who want to teach a girl a lesson about what a piece of shit they are”

I winced at that one, remembering what I had read about Sarah Powell.

“Piece of shit? Them or the girls?”

“Both, Debbie. Either. What really makes me squirm are the ones who come out to deliver a lesson in morality, then decide they’ll take a free sample, and that is a bloody nightmare to get it taken seriously by my bosses. They can’t seem to agree that a tom can be raped. I don’t think some of my bosses actually see a sex worker as actually having any rights at all”

Maisie was hanging onto his words, mouth slightly open. She shuddered, then looked at me.

“What do you do, Debbie?”

I shrugged.

“Take the van out, with a load of plastic mugs, the urn and a couple of jerry cans of water, and let them have some hot drinks, that’s all, really. You up for that?”

“Would I be safe?”

“You can stay in the van. All the rest of us need is a hand filling up mugs, topping up the urn, that sort of thing. Paul?”

“Yes?”

“Can we have a word, short one, in the kitchen?”

“Um, OK”

“Maisie, you up for it, then?”

“The others come along?”

“Team effort in this house, always”

“Okay…”

I stood up with a nod to her, then moved towards the kitchen.

“Bring your mug, butt. Either a top up or a wash up, depending”

He closed the door after he had followed me in, and I settled myself against a cupboard, toning down any threat signals as best I could.

“What is up, Paul? There’s more behind this than just ‘it’s always a shit time of year’, I think”

He was staring into a corner, trying to find words he didn’t feel safe in giving me. Suddenly, I understood.

“Who is it, Paul?”

His gaze flicked straight to mine, before rebounding to the toes of his boots.

“How did you know?”

“I was just guessing, love, but I am right, aren’t I? One of the working girls? Bit of a cliché, isn’t it? Whore with a heart of gold?”

He almost whispered, and I immediately felt like a shit. Show some class, woman.

“Sorry, mate. Slipped out. Please talk to me”

“Got more tea?”

“Can make some. Mates, aye? Friends? I promise not to judge. I really shouldn’t have said that, so sorry, yeah?”

I turned to put the kettle on, taking the weight of my eyes from him as I did so, and he began to speak.

“Some of it comes from something you said, Debbie. About Moira, when you guessed her age so wrong”

I kept my back to him as I did the business with two mugs and the hot water.

“I don’t think it’s her, is it?”

“No. It’s Paula?”

“Who?”

“Posh, they call her. Name was a bit of a joke when we first met, like that song, ‘Hey hey Paul, hey hey Paula’, isn’t it? Anyway, took a while to get talking to her. She’s off her face a lot of the time, on stuff Mo gives her to keep her in line. A slap regularly, a fix every so often. Sometimes, I catch her when she’s on the up. Not wasted, not strung out. We get to talk. Had her in my car a few times, and… It started as a bit of humint stuff”

“In English?”

“Sorry. Human intelligence. The word on the street and all that shit. Trouble is, once I got to know her, well, there’s a woman behind that slap. A mind, a bit of history. She…”

I took the risk and turned round, and his eyes were damp.

“That was the thing with Maisie, you know. Paula was kicked out by her family, still a teenager. Ended up, well, you know where”

“But she’s, well, she’s not a woman the same way my girls are, is she?”

“No. She’s a woman the same way that kid out to Southerndown was, and about the same age when it happened to her”

“Oh fuck!”

“Yup. Oh fuck. Big man, big car, somewhere dark, and once he was done, he punched her lights out and pissed on her. Her parents kicked her out for shaming them, all that rubbish. Put her in a new light for me, entirely new light. The more I got to know her, well. Remember what I said to you about that Mo? Well, if ever I get the chance to put him inside, don’t get in my way”

I waited as he studied his tea, and then he smiled, sadly.

“Not got a clue what I can do about things, but yeah, I am getting a bit stuck on her. I just wish I could meet her more than I do, rather than what the smack makes her. You must think I am a complete and utter fuckwit”

Poor, poor man. Something snapped in me just then, and I saw Frank in front of me instead of Paul, another decent human being, someone else whose part in my life was overshadowed by a bastard. Mo for Paul, Cooper for Frank, for me, for my whole bloody life.

“Paul?”

“Yeah?”

“How much do you know about my background?”

“Not that much. I know you came down from Cannock, but that’s about it. Nita hinted she met you when you were young”

“I was a runaway, mate. I escaped from a children’s home”

“What? Sixteen or seventeen or so?”

“I was twelve when I got out. I went in when I was around nine. I was raped just about every day till I got out a window”

“Fucking hell!”

“Exactly what it was. I might just have some idea about where Paula is coming from, so I think it’s about time I stopped judging. When do you want us to go out again, love?”

He put down his tea and opened his arms, and as I hugged and was hugged, I had a moment of jealousy for Posh/Paula, and that brought a chuckle. He pulled back, so that he could see my face, not so that he could let go.

“What’s funny, Debbie?”

“Ah, Paul. Just me thinking what a good man you are, and then realising, shit, did I just call a copper a good man?”

That brought a laugh from him, thank god, and then a much firmer hug. We were smiling as we returned to the living room, and three weeks later, we started the tea runs again, with Maisie at the urn. A fortnight later, a newly-confident Maisie went with me in the Transit to Swansea, where we collected Emma and Rachel from a homeless shelter, just in time to upset our Christmas planning. We picked up a basic set of bunk beds on the way back, the first of a few more.

CHAPTER 38
Paul’s confession was another little wedge knocked into the cracks in the armour I had erected around that filthy bastard Cooper, another little sign others could suffer as badly as I had. I had gained some understanding of that simple fact watching Gandalf after Sam’s murder, and as I dug out the story out around the two rapes, I found my perverse top-victim game crumbling.

Don and Charlie may have done all sorts of things to me, including giving me crabs, but they had never, ever pissed on me. That act, in itself, was objectively nothing compared to the damage Mam and Mr Simmonds had repaired, but the intent, the thing it revealed about the rapist’s utter contempt for his victims, that shook me.

And yes: I couldn’t see two different men having the same arrogantly simple calling card. It could only be one rapist. Enough, Debbie. Never meeting him, and if I ever did, I would be the one with the blade ready for his balls.

We drove back from Swansea with the two new girls in the cab, Maisie in one of the rear seats, nattering away through the open hatch.

“Yeah, I used to do Airfix models, me. That and Meccano. I can do the bunks. Just need someone to do the lifting stuff!”

I called back to her.

“Going to be Sparky, love! I owe him some work, don’t I? Want to tell Emma and Rachel about the others at home?”

“Er, yeah, OK. We’ve got me, yeah? And then there’s the two swots. That’s Cathy and Nell. They’re always noses in their books, want to go to Uni. Then there’s Kim, and she’s a laugh. She works at a café, does nice stuff, but she’s always got headphones on when she’s home. Got a policeman calls round as well, but he’s a lot older. No boys. Some scary people on motorbikes, friends of Debbie’s, and one of them, Kim’s got the hots for”

I filed that one away for a later chat with Kim, as well as a subtle hint to Maisie about keeping confidences, but her prattle seemed to be working. We were passing Bridgend when one of the two in the front, Emma, told me that she had a fiver on her, and asked if we could please stop so she could buy something to eat.

“Didn’t they feed you at the shelter?”

“Not that well. They’re… They are a church thing, and they didn’t like us. Just like school, but worse”

“Did you two know each other before, you know, setting out on your own?”

“Yes, Miss. We were in school together. My Dad said it was Rachel who turned me queer, and her Dad said it was me, and both of us got shit from them, so we thought we’d try and face it all together, but it just got worse, and we thought…”

Emma’s voice faltered, and the other girl, Rachel, took her hand.

“Miss Wells”

“Debbie. Everyone calls me Debbie, OK?”

“Debbie. Thank you. Emma and me, we found each other at school. Long story, but it was what made our Dads angry. They give you a name, and it’s a boy name, and then you find someone who understands, and you get careless. Emma’s Dad heard us in her room”

The first girl interrupted her sharply.

“Not like that! We’re not that way! And we never dressed up or nothing”

“Shush, Em. Let me tell it”

“Yeah. You do it better than me”

“Suppose so. Anyway, um, Debbie, that was it. Her Dad spoke to my Dad, and when she came over to mine one day, he was listening at my door that time. It was all going to…”

She stopped suddenly, with a little gasp that was clearly an attempt to fight back a sob.

“Can we stop for a bit of food, please?”

“I think we can, Rachel. There’s some services at Sarn. Bit shit, but there’s a retail park over the road. KFC, Macwotsit, a supermarket. And put your money away. Maisie?”

“Yeah?”

“Hungry?”

“Oh yes!”

“If we stop there, you know what the menus are for those two?”

“I know what I would like”

“Well, if I go and grab the food, you think you could make us each a cuppa?2

“Course”

I turned to the two girls next to me.

“You two know what you like from those places?”

They looked at each other before Rachel, who seemed to be the more resilient of the two, nodded to me.

“Yeah, Debbie. That would be nice, but we’ve only got that five pounds”

“My treat, or rather--- no. I’ll explain when I get back. You three wait here, Maisie can do us all a brew, and we’ll chat as we eat. That suit you?”

Two nods, and I was out of the van and heading for the supermarket with a list of orders tucked into my hip pocket. I hit the big shop first to grab some basics for tea that evening, as we had the two extra mouths, and I suspected that the fried chicken they had asked for wouldn’t even touch the sides as it went down.

There were no obvious bruises, and they weren’t flinching when I contradicted them, so things were looking easier for once. Food… beef mince, some large potatoes, tinned kidney beans, mushrooms, tinned pineapple, chopped toms. I ran a quick mental check of my food cupboards, and added a couple of tins of drinking chocolate, before doing the business at the KFC, which wasn’t somewhere I had ever used much. Fried chicken is fried chicken, after all, and skinny imitation chips are never anything better. Back to the van.

The two girls were sitting in the back with Maisie, hands wrapped round mugs of tea, as there was an edge to the wind. I set down the takeaway food and handed the newcomers the other purchase I had made, a couple of cheap fleece tops.

“These will take some of the chill off. Got my tea there, Maisie?”

She handed me a brimming mug, and I left them to get outside their meals before raising an eyebrow to Rachel.

“You were telling us what happened, love. What made you get out”

She did the usual staring-into-her-mug thing for a few seconds, then drew in a long breath.

“All we were doing was sharing our dreams, Debbie. Nothing weird, nothing to do with sex or anything like that. Just what it might be like if we went on to college, living away from home. Being ourselves. The other students would be more open-minded. We’d talk about who was in the news, people like us. It was all a game of ‘what if?’. Nothing more, but we didn’t know he was listening, until we got a few weeks into the new year at school, and we had an assembly, and our year head, he steps up and says ‘We have an announcement, boys and girls, so would Dean and Maxwell stand up?’, so we did, and he says ‘These two think they want to be girls, so I want you all to keep am eye on them and make sure they know where boys go and girls go’, and it all got nasty”

She sucked on a last chip, staring past me into the car park, and Emma spoke up, her voice trembling, unsteady.

“I had some Christmas money, so we bunked off school at dinnertime, and I… I borrowed some clothes from my big sister, and we got the train, and that was all the money just about gone, and I’d heard things about that charity, that they had beds for people on the streets, but I didn’t realise how much they hate queers. I think they rang the police on the second night”

Thank god whoever responded to the call had been switched on, was my first thought. The second, close behind it, was that it explained the urgency in Nita’s tone when she had asked me to do the pick-up.

“Girls?”

“Yes?”

“Either of your Dads like to get physical? Either of them the sort to go looking for you?”

Rachel looked at her friend, then back at me.

“They might”

“Then Maisie can explain the security arrangements at the House while I get us on the road again. You don’t mind riding in the back for the next, last bit?”

I swallowed the last of my own chips, dumping the debris in a skip before using some wet wipes to clean my hands and chin. Out of the car park and back onto the M4, as Maisie prattled away about security and the quality of the doors. Down the motorway to Morganstown, and the turn off for the last few miles to Adamsdown and home. I took the Transit round to the back, and made sure I got the doors open before the gurls left the back of the van, carrying the bags of food along with some of the bunkbed parts. Nobody else was in, just for once, so I left the mattresses in the van for later slave availability, and once more got the kettle going.

“Maisie?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favour and show them where everything is. They’ve got nothing to put away, so it shouldn’t take long. I am doing some hot choc if anyone wants some”

I got three confirmed requests for that offer, so I set the mugs onto the coffee table in the living room while I selected some music to relax to. As Indianola Mississippi Seeds moved onto its second track, thankfully, the girls returned. Sighs of contentment were the only competition for the music as the chocolate steadily disappeared, and then there was a bang at the back door, which set both of the newcomers jerking upright. The first head to appear around the inner door was Cathy’s.

“You having choccie without us? Not fair!”

I laughed, showing her how my mug was part-full.

“Kettle’s still warm, and there’s fresh tins in the cupboard if you want to make your own. Come in and take a seat when you’re done, please, and I’ll do the introductions. Oh, and you can give me a hand later. Nell with you?”

“Yeah. She’s making our drinks. What do you need?”

“Got a few bits of bed to bring in, including a couple of mattresses and some single fitted sheets and duvets, that’s all. Not heavy, just awkward to handle up the stairs. OK with that?”

“Not a problem. Hiya, you two. I’m Cathy, and Nell is making our drinks, so we’ll be in with you in a few. What’s for tea tonight, Debbie?”

“Ah, yeah. I am planning some jacket potatoes with chilli on them. Could one of you give Kim a ring and let her know? She might be bringing something else home, and I don’t like to waste stuff”

“Will do”

Ten minutes later, we were all warmed up and settled into the softer chairs, Mr King turned down a little, and all girls chatting away about their backgrounds, although the newer pair were still a little reticent. Rachel asked the obvious question.

“It’s all girls here? Like us, that is?”

Nell nodded.

“Took me a while to get it, but yes. All people like us. Those the only clothes you have?”

Emma pointed to the two small rucksacks by the hall door.

“Our school uniforms in those, that’s all”

Cathy sighed, raising the back of her hand to her forehead.

“Oh dear, dear me. We shall have to take those things to a charity shop, and then go shopping for new clothes. Oh, the humanity! How shall we ever cope?”

As Emma and Rachel broke into laughter that moved from nervous to a far more relaxed sound, and Nell and Maisie tried not to snort out their chocolate, I took another look at Cathy, my worries about her easing. Perhaps it was a reflex in her, one that matched my own, as well as that of Kim and Pat, so many others. Give her someone else that needed help, and her own problems faded into the background. Whatever the reason, it pleased as well as relieved me.

In the end, we decided to wait for Sparky’s next visit before erecting the bunks, and Emma and Rachel agreed to sleep on the mattresses side by side on the floor, after we had done a team job in the kitchen to prepare my version of chilli (with pineapple chunks, sweetcorn and mushrooms: my food, my house, my cooking), served on slightly blackened jacket potatoes primed with melted cheese. Kim brought home a tray of apple crumble for afters, Nell popping out to the corner shop for some tinned custard, and all in all it was a wonderfully relaxed evening, up to the point I collared Kim when she was putting some dishes away, and we had a little privacy.

“Kim?2

“Yeah?”

“A little bird tells me you have an interest in one of my friends”

“She blushed fiercely red.

“Was it Maisie? I only told her cause she’s, cause I thought it might calm her down, stop her being so scared”

“She didn’t tell me who, love”

Her head slumped.

“Not something could ever happen, is it? He’s got a missus, an old lady they call her. He’s just so gorgeous, and he’s a nice guy as well”

The truth hit me with a bang.

“You fancy Oily, then?”

“Well, who wouldn’t? I’m just… I’m just the same as any other girl, aren’t I? And he’s always so nice, so gentle, and… Look, there’s a couple of lads come into the café, and try and chat me up, yeah? One of them’s a tosser, but the other one’s not bad, and… I get dreams, Debbie, and they’re simple ones, not shagging ones, not like that. It’s just someone’s arms around me, someone’s chest to rest my head against. Just being held, kept safe”

Naturally, I stepped forward to hug her, and she settled back against me.

“Yeah, and when you hold me, it’s nice, and it’s what saved my life, and I will always be grateful, Deb. Always. Just, sometimes, I see couples, and I wonder, and it hurts, and I say to myself, will that ever be for me?”

She turned round in my arms, her head tilting a little to one side as her eyes sought mine.

“Debbie, I don’t want to be rude, but I really think you know exactly what I mean”

CHAPTER 39
I didn’t have a clue how to deal with the situation. Not a single one; I wasn’t exactly the world’s expert on relationships, with my history. Before I could pull together some stupid attempt at advice, Kim gave me a squeeze and a twisted little smile.

“Don’t worry about me, Deb. Really, don’t. Ruth has my back at work, so you don’t need to worry. And, well, I’m not going matchmaking for you, so you can bin any worries on that side”

She laid her head on my breast, hugging me tightly for a couple of seconds.

“We can dream though, us girls. Can’t we?”

I squeezed her back, and she chuckled.

“Anyway, got two new girls to sort, and I think there’ll be more. I’ll send a word to Sparky, and then you and me, we go and get another set of bunks. Cathy’s already planning bloody soft furnishings, pillowcase and sheet sets. Why does she have to be so bloody girly?”

I pulled my head back, and she lifted hers as we shared a grin, and the words came to both of us simultaneously.

“Because she CAN, now!”

Another hug, and back in with smiles for the new friends.

Sparky waited until we had the second set of bunks before doing the honours, spending a couple of nights in his usual place outside, which astonished Maisie, Emma and Rachel, even after Kim had explained his aversion with the pithy phrase “Burning ships and jammed hatches”, which even left me shuddering. I made sure to top up his account at the café he was using, and as the weather closed in once more, I put another cheque behind the counter for him, as I knew now how many people he was himself supporting. The tea runs were split now, as I parked up in Splott first for the working girls before moving on to one of the areas favoured by rough sleepers, as the press called them.

I had other words, some of which I used aloud, but the image that sat in my mind was tied up with ‘wrack’. These people were the jetsam of society, thrown away rather than lost, the mixed wreckage and debris left by the tide as it ebbs, left high and dry by a country that didn’t seem to give a shit about them.

‘Dry’? Not in Wales, not as Winter started to settle onto our backs again. I started to keep any old polythene sheets, anything left in the wagon after I had dropped a load, to hand out to those that might want a little improvement to their shelter, and Kim started bringing soup. It turned into a savage season for us, Sparky reporting more than a few deaths of the lost and lonely, found cold under a pile of old cardboard or curled up and stiff in an alley.

I didn’t make the girls come out with us, but after Nell had dropped a few hints, and Kim had shared her own story, they became more than willing. Their engagement became even firmer when Posh brought us news of another girl sleeping in bushes out by St Catherine’s Park and foraging in bins near the Newport Road fast food outlets.

I fought back the flashbacks, and with Kim’s help I collected Kylie, who was originally from Newport. Heidi found us Chloe a fortnight later, and then Christmas was upon us. Everything was moving so much faster as I aged, but it kept its freshness because of the company I was keeping.

It was all so new to them, although Nell and Kim did play the ‘old hand at this’ card so far that I felt they would end up being slapped by Cathy for their smugness. The smiles stayed in place, though, as stories were shared and compared, which was something that left me feeling like an outsider at times.

I had never really connected with other transgender women, as some of the press called us then, nor transsexuals, as the officials did. I had lived almost all of my life as myself, despite needing a little help from Mr Simmonds, and had never had trouble from others about that. Plenty of abuse about being a gyppo, or a greaser biker bitch, but all of my life since my escape had been in what I was now hearing called ‘stealth’. For my girls, it was a completely different matter, and I did my best to share in their delight at meeting others who completely understood them, for the first time in each of their lives. They each came from a different background, but there were common features many of them shared. Not all of them had run away from home, but enough had. Not all had found fathers or other men paying too much attention to them, but it wasn’t rare. Cathy, it seemed, was the really lucky one, in that the home she had been referred to actually cared about its charges.

I had more flashbacks after that realisation.

So we had our Christmas with Marlene, after introducing the newer and nervous girls to Graham and Malcolm, who borrowed a spare room above Harry’s place for their stay, as the House was getting a little busy. What an evening that was.

“Debbie?”

“Yes, Chloe?”

“That IS a man behind the bar, isn’t it?”

“That’s Marlene. This is her place. Why do you ask?”

“There was another one, when I went to the ladies’. He was in a dress”

“What was he doing?”

“Um, mascara and lippy”

“No problem, then”

“Yeah, but what if he, you know, what if he wasn’t really like us, but just, like, dressing up?”

“Can you see him now?”

She pointed through an archway to the dancefloor.

“He’s dancing, over there, near Malcolm and Graham”

“Dancing with anyone else?”

“Yeah, some man in tight jeans and no shirt”

I patted her hand.

“Think it through, then. If they are drooling over some bloke’s bare chest, are they someone for you to worry about?”

“Er…”

She suddenly laughed, shaking her head.

“Sorry, Debbie. Just taking a while to get my head around all this. Bit sort of new to me. Anyway, better question: how do they walk in those shoes, never mind dance?”

I gave her a one-armed hug, just as Marlene brought me the drinks I had ordered.

“Lots of fucking practice and a shitload of frozen peas, darling”

Chloe looked up, and a long way up, as she was herself in flat ballet pumps.

“Frozen peas?”

“Sprained fucking ankles. And when we are dressed. It’s a bit fucking rude to callus ‘he’, OK?”

Marlene beamed a brilliant, scarlet-lipped smile at me.

“You been breeding these little girls, Deb?”

“No, love. Just a girl-magnet, me”

“Pity you’re straight, then. What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Um, Chloe”

“Right. Second lesson”

She handed Chloe a card, and her next words confirmed my guess.

“This is my phone number. Your friends have got it. I live over the place, and there’s a separate door to the stairs to my flat, with a doorbell. If this old bag ever lets you out into the wild, and you meet any shit in town, anyone starts following you, or getting nasty, you come here or you ring me. No arguments. Yes? Yeah, you with the nose ring. Tell me what fucking drinks you want or fuck off away from the bar, and if you want Guinness, order it first this time!”

If Chloe found the Smugglers a new experience, it was nothing compared to the New Year party at the clubhouse. I found history repeating itself, however, as each new friend was effectively adopted by my longer-term residents, especially when it came to their choice of party clothing. Nell was the real surprise; as Maisie chose her original dress for the night, teamed with a new pair of heels, not needing cold-weather kit as I was taking us all in the van, Miss Beige turned out in an incredibly short skirt and very long heeled boots. My jaw dropped as I looked over at the other girls, who were all in T-shirt and jeans, Cathy and Kim with their rally badges on display. Kim was grinning, but Nell was crimson. I raised my eyebrows to the blushing girl.

“What?”

In a very small voice, she muttered something about Kim taking the piss.

“These clothes are hers, Debbie. She said everyone was going to get all glammed up…”

I turned the eyebrows onto Kim.

“So I led. Anyway, too late to change now”

Nell started to protest, and Kim raised a hand to silence her.

“Answer me a couple of questions. Just say yes or no. And you look good, by the way. What do the rest of you think?”

There was a quick rush of agreement, and Maisie raised a hand.

“Don’t know what she’s worried about. I know I’ve got good legs, but hers, well. Don’t know why she always hides them under those drippy skirts and that. I say she looks good. I vote she stays like that and knocks the boys dead!”

As Nell blushed even harder, Kim took her hands.

“Do you want to look good, not for anyone else, but just for you?”

“Yes…”

“Do you believe me when I say you look good?”

“Um, not really”

“Maisie agrees with me. And so do all the others”

“Well…”

“I put a bag of your other clothes in the van, love, just in case. But stay like that, for me, just for the start. You can always change later. Deal?”

A hesitant nod, but still a nod, was Nell’s reply. Kim looked around the others, and brought out her grin once again.

“That’s settled then. If the rest of you don’t know what to expect, me and Nell, this one with the killer legs, we’ll explain the rules on the way there, but there’s nowhere, not anywhere, that’ll be safer for us. And don’t get too pissed”

Maisie turned to me.

“How pissed is too pissed, Debbie?”

Kim coughed.

“Me talking, girl, not her. How pissed is too pissed? We’ll find out tomorrow morning. New day, new year, new life, and probably a new pack of aspirin!”

CHAPTER 40
That party went exactly as I had expected, with no issues beyond a prospect having to smile a but less than nicely as a guest from another club spent a bit too much time investigating how close he could get to Nell, while Kim spent a sizeable part of the evening looking wistfully after Oily, and much of the rest trying not lo make her lust too obvious.

That was something that had struck me on her first trip to Snowdonia, fixated on the taut muscles of a young climber while worrying that she herself would never be someone such boys might actually desire. She made a big joke about her ogling, but that shadow always lay behind it. In the end, however, she had fought so hard for her real life since we had first met, and that pugnacity was still there. It showed itself more and more in teasing the other girls, but that never turned nasty, was never bitchy. Her soothing of Nell’s fears was so typical of how she treated the rest of the household, and I was steadily realising how vital she was becoming in the way the place ran.

I was still working full time, after all, which meant that I would be away from the House regularly, and unless I was on a week of local runs, that also meant at a distance. Knowing she was either at home or working just round the corner was a relief, and as my new girls settled in, Ruth let me know how many of them were starting to pop round for a cold drink or an extra little snack.

We straggled into the House on New Year’s Day, Nell much more relaxed after changing into warmer clothes that morning. It was Maisie who had made the joke, though, the obligatory one about monkeys, balls, low temperatures and cancelling any need for surgery. The rest of the crew were still buzzing a week later.

So: shitty weather, heavy loads for local shops to boost stock for the sales, and Nita and Heidi on our case, as Kim put it, like shit on a trainer. I will admit I was a little at a loss, because my focus had been very tight, and I had really seen no further than giving a warm bed and a hot meal to someone who needed both. The two officials reminded me that everyone I took in had other parts to their lives, and lives beyond the date when they would no longer need my help.

Schools, exams, NHS registration, an addition to Dr Thomas’ register, library cards (yes, really; you have to give an address as well as a name), so many other things. Most importantly, however, was the simple matter of accounting for the payments Social Services were sending my way.

I hate paperwork. That didn’t mean I could avoid the crap, though. Heidi had a word with Cathy, however, and to my surprise, she spoke to Rachel and Emma, and suddenly I had three ‘secretaries’ able to remove a lot of the load from my shoulders. I’ve never really had any talent for stuff like that, as my mind doesn’t work that way, but it seemed to suit the three of them, and there was no way I was going to complain.

Life had been so much simpler when it was just me, Mam and Dad in the Commer.

We had two new arrivals just as the first buds were coming out on the horse chestnuts, and they were both reminders of what all of the paperwork was there to deliver. The first was Nicola, who had met a boyfriend of fifteen online. Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, I found myself struggling to keep a calm face as a young girl told me a story so shit that I wanted to kill.

“Yeah, said his name was Tim, said he was seventeen, got his licence, used his Dad’s old car”

And you believed him, Nicola.

“It was all online, on my profile thing, I thought I could at least be a girl on there, and he said he liked me, and he sent me some pics, and he was well fit”

It was a story that became all too familiar, as she packed a bag to run away to a new life, somewhere not really specified, to live as herself, rainbows, unicorns, all that shit, until she had got in the car, and the seventeen year old boy turned out to be closer to forty fucking seven, and his price for not telling anyone about her, or perhaps letting her out of his car in one piece, had been a very productive session, for him at least, that had involved his cock and her mouth, and then being dumped forty miles from home. Her return wearing a skirt, courtesy of a police car, had not met with approval, and once again I had flashbacks, this time to my mother shutting the door of my former home in my face.

Patricia was a difficult one, until Nell and Cathy tag-teamed her for me. More social bloody media, this time with socially-shared photos she had put online on a website she thought had been safe. A couple of girls from her school had spotted them, recognised her, and posted print-outs all over the school itself. They had put up more home-made posters around her town, and spread the word over the internet, just in case there was anyone who might not realise what a sissy pervert Patrick Welling was.

We inherited Patricia after she had been pumped out in a Carmarthen hospital.

I felt a lot better about the paperwork afterwards, because Nicky and Tricia put so much into focus for me. I took some annual holiday while she settled in, as I wasn’t too happy about her state of mind, and I had some very, very uncharitable thoughts about men for a while.

What cheered me up were three things. The first two were surprisingly simple: Nell and Cathy had their eighteenth birthdays, and a couple of days later, courtesy of a certain solicitor I remembered, they also had new and official names.

The third was something that left the newly-official Cathy in tears, and me intrigued, and that was what the news called a series of readings of a white paper called the Gender Recognition Bill. Nell summed it up for me.

“It’s a really simple thing, Debbie. They are changing the law so that we can change what the law says we are. We get to be women, legally that is. Get all that goes with it. Get… get to marry, if we want to”

Cathy had sighed deeply at that one.

“If we can ever find anyone who would want to, that is. Anyway, got my new name, got something, at least. Get through Uni, and who knows?”

Nell patted her hand, as gentle as ever.

“Be better there, Cathy. More people, more, dunno, tolerant? You never know. Anyway, we need to get our A-levels right before planning too much!”

“Yeah, suppose. Um… Debbie?”

“Yes?”

“Nell and me, we’ve been working really hard…”

I had to laugh out loud at that one.

“What do you want?”

“Well, if we put the slog in, we might do better in the exams if we have a break first”

I was still laughing when she made her suggestion, but it was a bloody good one. I waited until Kim was home before putting it to the other residents.

“Right, you lot. Telly off, please! Cathy has made a suggestion for the early May bank holiday, so we need a show of hands”

Kim put hers up, which was pointless, as she simply started talking without waiting for my response.

“What if some of us don’t want to do whatever it is?”

“Well, we tie you up and bring you with us anyway”

“So what is it, then? Another rally?”

“Nope. Think tight shorts and photo panoramas”

The squeal she produced was possibly the girliest sound I had ever heard from her.

“With Pat?”

“I hope so. I need to check first, and then, if she’s up for it, we need to sort another couple of tents, some sleeping bags and the rest”

She turned to the other girls.

“Right, you lot, and shut up Nell, cause you know what it is. Debbie has a friend, and she knows all sorts of cool places in the mountains, and her and Debbie, they’ve got this cool campsite where there’ll be baby sheep, and that’s not the best bit, cause there’s this big bit of rock out the back, and the climbers go there, and that’s what Debbie meant about tight shorts, and there’s a music place, and all sorts! Nobody’s allowed to say no!”

When I had once more wrestled my laughter back down, I rang Pat. Kim still hadn’t finished, and as I attempted to have a sensible discussion with my old friend, there was a steady chorus of “Tight shorts! Muscles!” from the sod.

“What you thinking of doing about tents, Debbie?”

“Need to buy a couple, I suppose”

“Well, leave that for now. I have a friend who’s a Scout leader, and they have a six-man ridge tent I can borrow. They’re all trooping off to Tenerife, of all places, mountain walking round the volcanoes”

She paused, before adding, “That was a joke. The bit about trooping off. Scouts. Scout troop”

Another pause.

“I think you do need a break, love. They have sleeping bags as well; I can fit the lot in the car”

“Anything you want me to bring, Pat?”

“Just yourselves, love, and some smiles. Been too long since we were up that way. You got new girls for me to meet?”

Before I could answer, she added in a near whisper, “And that need to heal?”

We did a run out to the big ‘Go!’ place for boots, gaiters and so on for the newbies, and Kim drilled them in map and compass work over several evenings, which left me wondering when and how she had gained those skills. Before we could wrap up, Serena was delivered to us, another internet bullying victim, and I had to do a last-minute run back to the big shop for another pair of boots.

Thank god I had been persuaded to accept the grants from Heidi’s people, and more thanks to the girls now keeping the paperwork straight.

A minibus hired via Bert. All girls packed and loaded, seating arranged to split up the newer arrivals, and we were off, after a quick prayer to the weather gods.

They seemed to have been listening, and the weather was a delight. We had all of our usual treats, from the ginger misery playing his fiddle to the woolly-hatted shepherd greeting Pat like long-lost family. The new lambs were at the stage of rushing backwards and forwards in little gangs, and butting each other in play-fights.

On Kim’s advice, the girls packed a picnic for the afternoon they spent at the big rock slab, awarding points for ‘style’, ‘content’, ‘firmness’, and, for all I know, ‘clench’, and in the end, the only down part of the whole trip was when we had to leave. In a few weeks, two of my charges would have their A-levels, and before that, Nell would gain her name legally.

CHAPTER 41
Cathy turned out to have been absolutely right about the break doing wonders for their exam chances, or else the two girls were ferociously bright. I had guessed that about Cathy on first meeting her, but Nell’s softly-spoken manner hadn’t revealed the true depth of her own intellect. I actually felt a little bit of resentment at their results (all ‘A’ grades!), with a little bit of snarkiness about how two girls from a children’s home had outperformed so many of Daddy’s Little Rich Bitch Princesses, but told myself I was being unfair on girls I had never met.

Aberystwyth snapped the pair of them up, of course, and we began the process of gathering the necessities of a life of study a long way from home. The Summer lay ahead of us, of course, so we had time, and that allowed me to sort out applications for those of my charges who needed a school place. Heidi worked some real magic there, because the last thing I wanted was for any of them to be alone and open to bullying. We had a real sisterhood spirit developing in the House, and it was very much a hedgehog attitude.

Yes, I know bloody well that Romanies are supposed to love eating hedgehogs, but it was one thing Mam and Dad were very firmly against. To them…

I spent a little while in my room at the return of those memories, sitting outside the back door with Dad, two carrier bags of clothing forgotten as the little beasts snuffled and rattled the food bowls by the step.

To them, both of them, hedgehogs were part of the changing year we had lived in. They returned from hibernation as Winter slowly released its grip on the world, and snuffled away to a long sleep as it returned with a nasty grin. As we followed the seasons around the country, they followed their own circle.

How could my parents eat such friends?

That was partly the source of my own prickliness, wondering how I myself might have done with better education, if Cooper and his friends hadn’t cut my life off at the knees. That thought, of course, was swallowed by the realisation that without Cooper, I would never have met my Mam and Dad. That would never, ever excuse what he had done, of course, but I had the life I was living, and no other was available. One per customer; no exchanges or refunds, and no warranties.

Marlene was on hand with a private room for a celebration of the girls’ success, which went exactly as I expected, and then one day in July, we received a knock at the back door. After checking all the girls were accounted for, I checked the little screen for the cameras sparky had rigged for us.

Oily and Elf, and the former must have noticed the camera, for he mugged, waved and pretended to moon it. Bastard! I reassured my brood, and let the two into the kitchen.

Hugs all round, and a big grin from Oily when I pointed out that he was getting worse.

“That’s the plan, Debbie! I want to get so bad that there is no way I could ever get any worse. Live the dream!”

Kim had appeared as soon as she knew who was there, and she was already at the kettle.

“Tea? Coffee? Me?”

Oily hugged her happily.

“How’s that lad working out, kid?”

I turned my serious face onto her.

“Lad?”

She looked hard at the kettle, clearly unsure how to plug it in.

“Um… I did say there was one who was not bad…”

Back off, Debbie. One life per person, and that one was hers. Oily laid an arm over my shoulders.

“All sorted, Debbie. Kim and I had a little chat at new year, while you were stuffing your face I think it was, and I said I’d ask around a bit”

Kim turned sharply, a couple of mugs in her hand.

“Not true! I said I was wondering, and you asked who he was, and then you told me not to worry!”

Elf laughed out loud.

“Exactly! Job’s done, nothing nasty found out, and he will be a good boy. Nobody’s spoken to him, if that’s your worry, but the word is that he’s not a bad’un”

She took her tea from Kim with a nod of gratitude.

“Ta, love. That other one, though: right little shit. Nearly let Patch have a gobble of his bits, and not the sort he would have liked”

Kim looked puzzled.

“Who’s Patch?”

“My top dog, love. Breeder, I am”

Oily muttered “Right breeder, she is”

“Dog breeder, love. Ignore Oily. Patch is a bull terrier. The tosser nearly lost his meat and two veg”

Kim’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, then she shook her head as her usual grin returned.

“I thought I hadn’t seen him in Ruth’s for a while!”

Elf gave her a much warmer smile.

“Family, love. It’s what we are, what you are. Now, we’ve come down for a reason. Debbie?”

“Yeah?”

“Your two oldest ones in?”

“Living room”

“Mind if we step in?”

“Kim, want to warn the crew? Routine here, Elf”

Kim was back in a couple of seconds, waving us all in, as Maisie and Tricia went to the other half of the House to fetch some more chairs. Oily sat down on a free one, sipping his tea with one of his winning smiles on show for the girls.

“Ah, that’s better. Cathy? Nell? A word?”

Nell was the first to respond.

“In here, or the kitchen?”

“Either way, love. Nothing to worry about. We’ve just got something at the Clubhouse we need moving, so grab these”

He passed the two a buff envelope each.

“Pig and Wildcat heard how well you’ve done at the exams, you two, but you’ve decided to bugger off somewhere a long way away, which is rude, and the travel there and back is going to be a bitch. So those are driving lessons, a package of them each. You’ve both showed us what good students you are, so it’s your job now not to waste those. OK?”

It took a while for the emotions in the room to settle down, and they included cheers, tears and hugs, but in the end what remained were questions. The obvious one met the same answer Elf had given Kim in the kitchen: family.

Oily finished his tea before Elf, but waited until she was done.

“Right. Got some business in Splott, so we’ll be off. Ta for the cuppa, Kim!”

Cathy found her voice at last.

“Oily?”

“Yeah?”

“You said you had something that needed moving, at the Clubhouse?”

“Oh, yes. It’s only a Vauxhall Corsa, but it should do you both for getting to Aber and back”

They were out the door, and the sound of their bikes was fading, before Cathy spoke again.

“Is he saying they just bought us a car? Me and Nell?”

Maisie was nodding.

“Sounded like it. Debbie?”

“Yes, love?”

“This really is a family, isn’t it?”

“You only just starting to realise, love?”

“Yeah, but…”

She gestured at the rest of the girls, several of whom were weeping.

“It’s just, well, look at them. Look at me. Why couldn’t our own--- our old families have been like this?”

“I can’t answer that one. All I can say is that we sometimes need a fresh start. Then it’s up to us to make the best of it. Sod it. Anyone not fancy a drive out to the beach and an ice cream?”

It wasn’t a bad Summer weather-wise that year, and I took ten days off work in August for a proper break, borrowing the minibus once more for a drive out to a campsite inland from Tenby, where there was an old church tower on site and minimal facilities, but it was far away from the actual seaside to be a little less busy than those at the honeypots. The girls were used to the starker campsite in Snowdonia, and after a little session at the big warehouse place, we had some simple tents, bags and sleep mats.

We spent our days on the beach, sometimes in the water (chilly as it always is) and often on stretches of the coast path along the cliffs. I had somehow forgotten to mention how the area is one of the best birdwatching spots in Wales, but they soon worked it out, probably at the moment I had placed my telescope and tripod into the bus.

A few pub meals, many ice creams at the more popular beaches, but most nights spent cooking as a family by our tents. The beach trips were a clear rite of passage for the girls, and we found various ways of hiding ‘unsightly bulges’ and avoiding the really busy spots. I believe that their number helped, because such a group must have left any potential ‘tranny spotters’ confused. Nope, can’t be a boy; look at how many there are.

For whatever reason, it was a successful trip, working the bonding magic I had hoped for. It was just us, no friends, nobody from outside the House, absolute empathy and understanding all round. Even on the trip back to Cardiff, sand everywhere, the girls were singing some crap chart song or other, even Nell, and I didn’t have a chance to play any decent music.

Sods.

There were smiles for days after that, and we got through the second half of August without drama, Cathy and Nell slogging away at rather different examinations after the arrival of their provisional driving licences. Once August was done, the younger girls were off to their school, as a pack. I don’t know what hidden strings Heidi had available to her, but she was clearly tugging hard at them, and each kid was registered in a very different name from those they had been given at birth.

I still sweated blood with worry about them, for the best part of six months, particularly the newer ones, for their previous schools hadn’t exactly delivered safety and acceptance. Each of them went with a mobile phone, and set into each phone’s address book were my number and those of Marlene, Kim and Ruth, as well as each of the others at school.

It was their safety net, but I was still terrified. I had seen so much, too much evil to relax easily. That only got worse a few weeks later, when two brand-new full driving licences set off in a small Vauxhall car for Aberystwyth, with a pile of books, clothing, shoes and dreams.

The first of my brood had fledged; I prayed they would fly in safety.

CHAPTER 42
I will freely admit that I was terrified. The girls had not been living as themselves for that long, and so far it had been in a protective bubble. Their sixth form studies had been just down the road from the rest of us, and there had always been an available escape route in the forms of Marlene and Ruth. Their new place would be without such safety nets, as well as being a long way away from us. Oily and the rest had gone above and beyond the expected in sorting out their little car, and they still had each other to look to at University, but I was still sweating blood until their first return home for a weekend.

I was gratified by the reaction of the other girls that Friday, who pushed the boat out a long way in the welcome they extended. Maisie explained it in simple terms.

“Nothing complicated, Debbie. Just that those two, they’ve done it, got into the real world. Tricia was saying it, that if those two can do it, so can the rest of us”

She snorted out a sudden laugh.

“Silly sod then gets all embarrassed. “Didn’t mean it like that’, she says, didn’t mean they look crap or stuff!’, so we all took the mick, but I knew what she meant”

With a slight frown, she turned her face to her knees.

“Big thing, isn’t it. Two kids from a home, two perverts, like people say, and they’re off to college and a proper life. You need to know what you’ve done for us, you and Kim and the rest”

“Kim?”

“Yeah, her. Who is it keeps this place running when you’re at work?. Anyway, it all means I have to do more work, at school, like”

“Why’s that?”

She grinned, looking up again.

“Can’t let those two down, can I? They’ve opened the door for the rest of us, end of story. Anyway, glad rags for tomorrow night, woman. Marlene’s got us a room, and Ruth and Kim have done us a buffet”

That was my first inkling that my girls were steadily making their own lives outside the front door. Yes, we had a party. No, Marlene didn’t seem to mind when we laid out lots of food that she hadn’t sold us, and no, she didn’t hold back on helping us clear it off the tables.

There was the usual Saturday night disco, and I noticed that Nell seemed to be rather less beige than she had previously presented to the world. Over a beer for me, and a bottle of some hideous blue concoction for her, her cheeks slightly flushed from the dancing, she gave me an account of their first weeks at college.

“It was scary, Debbie, really scary. First week, we went down to the Freshers’ Bazaar, see what clubs there were. Just the two if us; felt like everyone was staring, like we had a target on our backs, and then Cathy made a stupid joke about Mods, that roundel thing they used to paint on their anoraks, parkas, whatever. Got me laughing, and she says ‘Target’s on the tables, Nell; let’s find a decent club or six, and get well-rounded’, so I had to play along, and I’d just said ‘Does my bum look big in this, then?’, and some rugby type calls over that it looked OK to him”

She took a swig from her chemicals, and grinned.

“Kim did that, Debbie. Teased me, tricked me at that party, but she was right. I don’t have to flash anything about unless I want to, but if I do want to, and it’s the right place, then why not?”

I could see her point, sort of, but I suspected that if I pushed it, we might end up in territory more maudlin than anything else.

“So what clubs did you join?”

“Oh, usual stuff. Film club, book club, music club, climbing club”

“You what?”

“Cathy’s idea, that one. She looked at the lad behind the table, and she whispers to me, ‘Fancy looking up at him from underneath, or doing it from on top?’ You have unleashed a monster, Ms Wells!”

I shook my head.

“Really? She wants to go crawling up walls like some bloody crawling thing?”

“Yeah. They’ve got an indoor wall there, with ropes and stuff”

“You OK with that?”

“Not at first! But there were so many fit boys there…”

Shit.

“You know you need to be careful. Remember Maisie, what happened to her”

She was nodding.

“Yeah, I know. We thought of joining the gay club, but it’s not us, not really. Not lesbians, are we, nor blokes?”

I shook my head, puzzled as to where she was going.

“So we found another group; please don’t laugh”

“What’s funny, then?”

“It sort of mixes with something we did in the mountains, that music night in the pub. It’s a dance club, folk dance thingy”

I forced my mouth shut, as she was clearly worried I would ignore her request, and laugh out loud. She swallowed a couple of times, then started again.

“It was Cathy’s idea, Debbie, and before you say anything, it was a good one. It’s a way of learning to be… to be normal. We’re just normal, both of us. It’s OK dancing, like we did at the new year, but, well, I wasn’t sure about that dress, but never mind. That sort of dancing’s OK, cause it’s solo. I… we… Debbie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Boys, Debbie. Men, I suppose, now, our age, isn’t it? Cathy said we could dance, and it would be as girls, and that sort of dancing, it’s where you have to dance as couples, and it’s…”

She broke off again, shaking her head in frustration, almost in tears, then looked me in the eye once more.

“Is it wrong for us to want to be held by someone nice?”

I took her into a hug, naturally, and she almost whispered, “Someone nice that isn’t you, I mean”

I felt a stab in my heart.

“No, love. It’s never wrong”

She clung to me for a few seconds before sitting back up again.

“So Cathy and me, we’re learning to dance, and that means boys. Men. And they are nice, some of them. And… Well, it can’t go any further, can it, not yet, anyway. So Cathy and me, we say we’ve still got our bloke L-plates, still provisional drivers, and that’s OK, cause provisional means some point we get our full licences. Want another pint? Old enough to buy a round now, aren’t I?”

So she went to the bar, the subject was changed and the following afternoon we waved them both off again. Even with all the others at home, the House felt empty. Stay safe, love.

I had a meeting with Nita and Heidi a few weeks later at their office, as they had some regular report for their managers to complete, and naturally the main topic of conversation was the two flyaways. Heidi, for once, went straight to the point.

“The two are legally adults now, Debbie, so there’s going to be some rearrangement of the funding. Has been, in fact”

“I had noticed!”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Automatic systems and stuff. I have been working on it, trust me, and it’s been in two parts. The first part was actually the easiest, which wasn’t what I expected”

“What was that bit?”

“Tuition fees and student grant stuff. I know there’s no grant system these days, but we’ve managed to rejig some of the benefits they’d be due. Who got them the car, by the way?”

“My sister”

Nita looked up sharply at that, but clearly decided not to push the point, allowing Heidi to continue.

“The awkward point is that if we pay the girls for being at college, we don’t have the wiggle room to pay you for them. Sorry”

I actually laughed out loud at her apology.

“Heidi, butt, you’re looking after them, which is all that matters. I’m not in it for profit, am I?”

“Um, no, but we’d like to redirect that payment back to you, if you don’t mind. Neither girl has had any experience in the wider world, so we think, while they’re at college, it would be best if you handled it, paid them an allowance, like”

“Oh, you cheeky so and so! You could have spoken to them directly!”

Nita coughed.

“Um, we did, Debbie. It was Cathy and Nell who suggested we do it this way. They seem to be remarkably realistic about life. You have done a bloody good job with them, Debbie”

“I don’t see it as a job, Nita”

“I know you don’t. Now, how are you doing for space? You’ve had a rush of new arrivals. Can you handle one more?”

“I think so, but it’s getting tight”

I barked out a laugh of my own.

“Unless you are willing to buy next door for me?”

Heidi shook her head, but she was grinning.

“Not miracle workers, are we? Like that old joke: the difficult done today, the impossible might take a little time. Seriously, we’re heading for the cold months now. The debris always turns up as the temperature drops”

She sighed, her mouth twisting in her usual way.

“Debbie, I think it’s lack of strength that does it. Some of the broken can cope while it’s sunny and warm, but when the days get shorter, life just feels that much more crap, and that’s when they break. Of course, they get outside, and they already lack the reserves, isn’t it?”

Nita nodded in agreement.

“Little bird, or a big Welby, tells me you’re helping out the sex workers in the city. Thanks, Deb. Really thanks. Told you already what it means when we find, you know. Too many of our honest ratepayers think they should die, I sometimes dream of taking them along to bag and tag one of the bodies. Anyway, enough on that. Girl called Alicia, and she is one of the rare ones who can spell it. Fifteen, a runaway; Dad is a bit anti, but Mam’s a full-on pray-away-the-gay ranter. When they took her to a shrink, I am told her Mam asked if they could do electroshock stuff, although I don’t know where she thought they should stick the electrodes. We’ve got her in a hostel, at the moment”

“I can fit her in, if you want. Just”

“How’d you get here?”

“The van. I’m doing a big shop after, and there’s not enough room on the bike”

“Good. I lied. She’s downstairs”

“Shit! It’ll be either Cathy’s or Nell’s for now, until I can sort another pair of bunks”

“Debbie?”

“Yes, Heidi?”

“You do know that those two have moved out, now? Adults, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it is still their home. Always will be, I think”

The two women both kept their replies to a nod, but Nita gave my hand a squeeze as she rose.

“I’ll get the girl. She’s just got the one bag”

Alicia turned out to be a skinny kid in tracksuit bottoms and a hoody that seemed at least four sizes too big, and she looked worried on seeing me.

“I’m not going to eat you, love. What’s frightening you?”

“Going into a home. Bullies and stuff”

“These ladies told you what sort of place I run?”

“They just said it was a safe place”

Nita handed the girl her rucksack.

“Debbie runs a specialist place. Everyone there is a girl like you”

“But I’m not a--- really? Everyone?”

I nodded.

“All of them, love. What you got in the bag?”

“Couple of T-shirts, and some… some makeup”

I turned to Nita.

“Usual funding for this one?”

My old friend, as I now saw her, laughed happily.

“Like you’ll wait for that? Yes, of course. Oh, take this”

She passed me a cheap mobile phone.

“Alicia, I actually suspect that your Dad isn’t as hard line as your Mam. I have reasons for that, but not for right now, OK? This is a pay-as-you-go, and if your Dad keeps being sensible, I will let him speak to you, but only with your agreement. I need you to promise not to call him unless we can be sure it is safe. Can you give me your word on that?”

Alicia nodded, looking rather lost, and after a couple of hugs we were out of the door and into the van.

“Buckle up, kid. Where are you from?”

“Briton Ferry”

“You won’t be used to the fresher air around here, then”

That brought a slight crack in her expression. Good; let’s open it a little more.

“Got to do some shopping first, food and stuff. Kim’s doing a communal cooking session tonight, with the rest of the crew. Kim’s one of my girls; works in a café during the day. You cook?”

“Only simple stuff. Wanted to do Domestic Science at school, but Mam says that’s only for girls, and… What do I call you?”

“Debbie. That’s all”

“Debbie. Right. When Mam said that, it was what caused the problem, cause I said well, duh, and she said what do you mean duh, so I said, well. It’s when things went… It’s when it went bad, with the Parch and the psychiatrist. Can we not talk about it, please?”

“OK. You a vegetarian, anything like that?”

“No”

“Good, cause Kim is doing a big shepherd’s pie tonight. We need lamb mince, stuff like that. Grab my handbag, please. List is in the outside pocket. Your first job is to tick off what we get”

Her second job, of course, was to follow me through the clothing session for night clothes, slippers and a couple of skirts and tops.

Yes, there were tears; there were more when we arrived at the House, and Nita’s description was shown to be absolutely correct. Kim was waiting for us, and as I dumped the shopping in the kitchen, she picked up the bag of clothing, grinning as she saw the contents.

“Where’s new girl here sleeping, Debbie?”

“Nell’s room for now, Kim”

“Emma!”

A head poked round the door.

“Hiya. Who are you?”

The ‘new girl’ in question looked up at me, and I nodded my approval.

“Um, Alicia”

Kim pushed her gently forward.

“Em, can you take her up to Nell’s room for now?”

“No problem!”

“Alicia?”

“Yeah?”

Kim threw an apron at her.

“Changed, down here, that pinny on. We need to get this meal cooking, because I will be off out after, and I do NOT want to be late!”

CHAPTER 43
As Alicia disappeared, I turned back to Kim.

“Spill them, then. All those beans I can hear rattling around. Late?”

She turned back to the stove, trying to appear intent on her cooking.

“Nothing really. Just going to the pictures”

“With?”

She set the wooden spatula down into the large pot of lamb mince she had been stirring, then leant forward, hands spread wide on the worktop and her back still to me.

“Like Oily said, isn’t it? He’s OK”

“Oily?”

“No. Philip. Phil”

“Kim, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s your business, but please understand why I am asking. Just trying to keep you safe, isn’t it?”

She nodded, and I caught a slight tremor in her left hand, so I stepped forward to hold her, as my instincts took over. She stood up straighter, wrapping her arms over my own, a matching tremor in her voice.

“I know, Debbie. I know it all too well. I think it’s the same with the other girls, at least Nell and Cathy. This place… it’s like when we’ve been out with pat, and in some big hill, where there’s a little bit of flat, yeah, and you stand up straighter, catch your breath, but there’s another steep bit ahead”

“Very deep, love”

“No. Not really. Just that I know I can’t stay here forever, got to move on, leave space for new girls and stuff”

“Not unless you want to, Kim. Never without it being your choice”

“No, not really that. But living here, it’s been that resting space, flat bit, but I need a life outside, need to be real. Need to---no, I was going to say I need to move on, but I don’t mean I need to leave here. I just need to start a real life, be someone real”

She turned in my arms, setting her hands on my shoulders.

“I know I can’t shag Phil, but it’s not about shagging, though it is, sort of. Just having a few moments as a girl, just a girl, like any other girl. We’re off to the pictures tonight. Going to the new Lord of the Rings one. Means I’ll be home late, so I’ll take my keys. Phil can see me home. Am… Am I being silly, Debbie?”

I hauled her closer to me, wrapping her in as much reassurance as I could.

“No, Kim. Trust me, I understand”

She whispered into my ear, “I know you do”

A few seconds of comfort, then a ‘huff’ of breath from her.

“Come on, let me go. Hungry girls, meal to make. New one’s not fussy, is she? Not a veggie or anything stupid like that?”

“Nope. I asked. We’ll set the table in the big room, I think. Eat as a family for once, and not off our knees”

“I won’t have time to…”

“Then we delegate, my girl. Get someone else off their arse. I’ll sort it”

Our meal was a mix of chaotic conversation, as older hands bounced off each other’s words before remembering to try and include the new resident in their play, but she was still unsure of her ground, still in the hoody and tracksuit bottoms, still keeping her inner girl exactly that. I was watching the double act of Rachel and Emma, and every time they made a bad joke with Maisie that wasn’t too obscure, too reliant on inside knowledge, I would catch a little flicker of a smile from Alicia. There was hope for her, it seemed.

Once the food was gone, Kim disappeared with it, and I managed a few seconds with her in the kitchen after she had changed into tighter jeans than normal, along with a T-shirt and her well-worn leather jacket. I looked her up and down, and she shrugged.

“I’m taller than him, so no heels, and if I went in a skirt, well, I don’t know whether he gets WHT or not”

She picked up on my confused expression.

“Wandering Hands Trouble. Got three pairs of knickers on under these jeans. Yes, I have my phone, and yes I have my keys, and no I won’t be LATE late. And yes, I have thought about Nicky, and Maisie. Got a bus to catch. Don’t wait up!”

She was gone, and my worrying was only just beginning. I prayed Oily and Elf had got it right about the boy.

Alicia had been drummed into setting the table, so its clearance and dish duty was down to the others. Washing up wasn’t that much of a chore, as Sparky had plumbed in a dishwasher for us, so we were soon back in the living room, where I found Alicia looking through my bookshelves; when she caught me watching her, she visibly cringed. I had some very uncharitable thoughts about her mother, but once again I put my thoughts somewhere safe and brought out as smooth a mile as I could manage.

“See anything you like? Anything interest you?”

She turned back to the shelves.

“You’ve got a lot of books about Snowdonia, Debbie”

To my surprise it was Patricia who answered that one.

“Debbie has a friend that goes up there, Alicia. Pat, she’s called. Knows everything and everywhere in the mountains. We went up there before the Summer, and we stayed on a campsite, on a farm. There were new lambs, and there were climbers, and it was gorgeous”

She looked towards me for a second, before turning back to Alicia.

“I had a few problems before I ended up here. The other girls just looked after me, made me feel welcome. Gave me my life back, is what it is. Good place, this is. You know the mountains?”

“Um, yeah. We went up there a few times, just me and Dad. Stayed in a youth hostel there. Dad showed me a secret bridge”

Patricia sat bolt upright, a grin splitting her face.

“Over some waterfalls? Under the main road, by a big lake?”

They were off, laughing at shared trivia and separate but common memories. Alicia’s shell seemed to be cracking open, and it gaped even further when Serena called in from the kitchen, where some of my brood were clearing the dishwasher.

“Girls? We’re doing hot chocolate. Any takers?”

Unanimous response, which tickled me, until I turned back to Alicia and the book she had found, ‘Running Out of Hell’.

“What’s this one about, Debbie? I like running”

“It’s not really about running, love. I think the title was meant as a sort of joke”

Just not a funny one, not at all.

“The author was a man called Steven Elliott. I believe he’s a serious runner, but the book’s actually about a children’s home”

“Oh. When you say ‘children’s home’, do you mean somewhere like Bryn Estyn?”

Oh Alicia: much, much worse.

“You could say that, love. Not a pleasant story, that part of the book. Was that what you were thinking about when we were with the social services ladies?”

She nodded, then gave me another smile.

“Not like this place, though. That’s the important thing. Can I read this?”

“It would probably give you nightmares, love. Best not, at least not right now”

That book hadn’t given me any more nightmares than I already had, and I realised how close my experiences had been to Elliott’s. Patricia and Alicia shared stories of a hidden bridge, and Steven Elliott and I shared memories of Charlie fucking Cooper and that filthy bastard Don Hamilton.

Keep the smile on, Deb, and take the mug of chocolate from Serena to cover the twist to your face.

“Patricia’s right, love. We seem to have a sort of, I dunno, a set of traditions building here. We do Christmas at a friendly pub, New Year’s Eve with some biker friends, and as this one said, we try and get a few weeks in the mountains in August. And when it’s cold, we do a sort of charity work with hot drinks for the homeless. A friend of ours helps us out, and he does the maintenance and that for the house. Not many men get to come in here, inside the House, that is”

Maisie chipped in her thoughts.

“Yeah, Sparky, that’s him. I got into a lot of trouble, being stupid, and he got Deb out to pick me up. Then there’s Paul, he was there as well. He’s our own copper, the one we call if there’s a problem”

I thanked her with a nod.

“And we’ve got our biker friends, and then there’s a couple of my friends from Northumberland, and they are an actual couple, of men that is. They do Christmas with us, and that, really, is all the men we let in”

I gave Patricia and Maisie a look each, then finished the chat.

“One or two of the people who stay here have had problems with men, so we keep most of them out. If we have a girl who has a problem with them, they can stay next door. Nice chocolate, Serena. Reminds me: Paul is due round in a couple of days. Anyone who wants to stay out of the way, let me know beforehand”

In the end, Alicia slipped Steven Elliott’s horror story back into place on the bookshelf, and selected one of the older books, one of Poucher’s combined black-and-white photography and route guides to our mountains.

“Alicia?”

“Yeah?”

“If you’re going to read that one, there’s one of the bigger books there to go with it, his photos in colour. Read them together”

“This one?”

“Yes. When Kim gets back, she can show you the ones we’ve done. Oh, and on the next shelf, there’s a photo album of us, and there, on the mantlepiece? That’s us and Pat, on Y Garn”

In the end, she took both of the Poucher books with her when she retired to Nell’s room, her exhaustion plain. One by one, the others drifted away to their own beds, and I sat worrying until, at a quarter to eleven, there was a bang from the kitchen as Kim returned home, thank god. I listened as she locked everything back up before entering the living room, dumping her bag on the settee.

“Oh! You sitting here in the dark, Deb? Waiting for me?”

“My job to look after you, love”

Before she could manage to slip in a comment about not needing me, I spoke again.

“How’d it go?”

“Picture was a goo one, but nobody warned me it was a gay one”

“Pardon?”

“Sam and Frodo, well, course they are, aren’t they? But you don’t care about the film, do you?”

“Caught out, love. Got me!”

“Well, he was good as gold, and no, we didn’t go off to some park for afters. His Dad picked us up, dropped me outside Ruth’s. Phil already knows I work there, so I didn’t have to let him see where we live, did I? Anyway, his Dad was nice”

“And?”

She looked at her knees, so typical of her.

“Yeah, we had some proper snogging, and he made a move on my tits, but he stopped when he was told. When is Doctor Thomas due again?”

“A couple of weeks, I think. Why?”

“Do you think I might persuade him to help me move things along? I mean, I wasn’t complaining when I said Phil wanted to, you know, but if I actually had some tits, well”

She rose, collecting her bag as prepared to head to her room.

“It was great tonight, Debbie. Made me feel real. Just, would’ve been nice to have had something real for Phil”

She was off, and I was left in the dark living room, mind full of memories of a night with a young man in a rally field, bis arms around me.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have bought that Elliott book.

CHAPTER 44
The weather was once more closing in, along with the calendar. I was getting old, I realised, and everything was telescoping. Time was shortening, each month flying past, but the House was buzzing with life, each of my girls opening up at their own rate, but opening, nevertheless. They formed a little phalanx each morning as they headed off to the school Heidi had found for them, and while I was still working my full range of duties for Bert, I was spending very little time at Ruth’s. It had always been my go-to for a decent breakfast, but with so many teenagers to be fed each morning, it would have been awkward. Fester would have lost his mind, though, over what they chose to eat.

I am, of course, a traditionalist in such things, and a Full Breakfast of Whichever Country had always been my choice. I have mentioned the truckers’ grapevine of decent caffs and greasy spoons, especially those that offer tea (or hot chocolate) in pint mugs, and of course I had a biker’s grounding in bacon, eggs and fried bread, or whatever somewhere like Hollies would pile onto their plates, but some of my girls had a rather different take.

Cereal, of odd types. Yoghurt, in a variety of flavours. Fruit. I could follow, or swallow, lots of those, but what on Earth was the purpose of a bagel?

Needless to say, we were out with the van on many occasions, especially on those nights when the rain was less a shower of drops and more a penetrating and chunky mist, soaking everything without mercy. I watched Kylie on those nights, as she had slept through several of them with shelter not much more than an evergreen bush and a couple of bin bags. She did her best to be chatty and bright for the working girls, but it didn’t work all that often. There seemed to be a regular influx of new faces, and more than a few showed clear resentment of us, as rich hobbyists or some such shit.

I heard Moira slap a couple of them down, her tongue savagely stripping the skin from their surliness, and the attitude would be more pleasant for a short while, but each new worker seemed to take a while to accept our reasons for being out on such awful nights.

They never turned down our hot drinks, though, just as we never lost our own understanding of why we were there. Obs, in essence, obs for humanity as a whole, rather than those owed to individual people. Always, always, those words of Ian Anderson, and ‘the giving’ certainly made my girls what they were, which was more confident in their future, more assured in their sense of personal worth.

Once again, we were counting down to Christmas. Where did the sodding time go? I was just calculating how we could run everybody up to Marlene’s, and the clubhouse, while checking which shifts I would end up lumbered with and trying to design a fall-back plan if some of the girls decided those events were not for them, when my mobile rang.

“Hello, can I help you?”

“Hiya, Debbie! How’s you?”

“Graham! Hiya, love!”

“Just ringing to check on Christmas, and then run something past you”

“Go on. Nothing nasty? Malcolm okay?”

“He’s fine, pet. Part of what I’m asking about, really”

“Well, you had me worried a little, just then. I was actually trying to sort out planning for Christmas when you rang. Had a bit of a population explosion since last year”

“How many with you now?”

“Oh, hell. Um… Cathy and Nell should be back, then Kim, Kylie, Chloe, Emma, Rachel, Serena, Maisie, Patricia, Alicia… I’ve probably forgotten a name there. Need to start writing them down”

He chuckled.

“What, call the register every morning? ‘Here, Miss’, that sort of thing?”

“Starting to make sense, love. You two coming down as usual?”

“We are, but, well. Sort of thing I wanted to run past you. I’m looking at taking on a tenant”

“Not a big deal, really, so what’s the worry?”

“A tenant for my farm, Debbie”

“You retiring? Moving away?”

So many memories of that beach, the whisper of the sand grains and the soft rustle of the marram stems as the wind pushed everything before it.

“Not actually retiring, Debbie. More sort of changing horses. Just wanted an opinion, tell us if we’re being a daft old pair of puffs”

“Speak, then. What are you not saying?”

“Malcolm and me, we have an option on a place. Same sort of place Marlene runs. Gay bar”

“In bloody Northumberland? Didn’t think you’d have that many customers up that way!”

He paused for a few seconds, then drew his breath in audibly.

“No, pet. Tenerife. Canary Islands. Huge scene out there, and the weather’s more reliable. There’s a bar in Las Americas we’ve been to a lot, and the owner’s selling up. Malcolm’s sold his place, and he got a lump sum when he retired. Got a tenant lined up for the farm”

He paused again, then said, so softly that I almost missed it, “Sorry”

“What the hell for?”

“Just feels like I’m abandoning you, Debbie, after… After Ken and Lorraine went, I just… Feels wrong. That’s all”

“What’s wrong is what you’re saying, love. You always looked after us. Never, ever let us down. Some of the best times of my life were there, with you, the beach, stotty, all the rest. You have a life to live, and mine is sorted, aye? Got Rosie down here, got girls to look after. I’m fine. I will be fine, okay? Now, this Christmas I have to cover Boxing Dat. You two up for looking after the girls for a day or two, while I’m at work?”

“Always, Debbie. When we move, like, it’s a guest house and a bar. You come over and see us?”

“When I can, my love. You can’t escape me that easily”

“I hope not. See you for Christmas”

A click, and he was gone, and I suspect his abruptness was driven by tears. Another little piece of my old life, chipped away with the rest. I realised that our little one-two at Christmas and New Year was becoming a lifeline for me, an anchor for my year. Without the girls, what would I have, beyond work?

I called into the living room, where Alicia was reading while Rachel and Emma worked through some homework, the rest in the other house, or in their rooms, I assumed.

“Girls? I am just going out for a while. Got my keys, and you know the drill with the door. Any worries, ring me, or Kim. She’s at Ruth’s place”

I grabbed my lid, gloves and leather, tucked my binoculars into a rucksack and kicked the bike over. I suppose I was intending to head for the Bay, catch the last of the sunset and see what I could spot, but the bike had its own mind, and I ended up heading out to the motorway. Once there, I let the beast have its head, no idea where I was going but needing something, anything, to burn off the pain.

What the fuck did I have, in the end, to show for my life?

I have no idea how I avoided being pulled over, the speeds I hit, and the anger and hurt only eased near Cornelly, where I peeled off the M4 and headed north for Pyle.

I saw the car coming from a long way off, and I have absolutely no idea how I survived. The stupid bitch of a driver was looking left, checking out her exit road, and came out onto the roundabout without any sign of braking. I managed to twist the bike behind her car, and my right boot’s toe caught it a glancing blow. I managed to bring what threatened to be a real tank slapper under control, just, and found myself stopped at the verge, hyperventilating in my shock and relief. Shit, that had been close, and Mrs Bitch just continued on her way, clearly oblivious to the whole thing. I paddled the bike further onto the verge and sat shaking for a few minutes, images of a whole brood of abandoned girls scrolling over my eyes.

Shit, indeed. I settled myself, and wiped my streaming eyes before setting off back down the spur road to the M4, where I made much, much more sedate progress back towards the city. Get home, settle down, early night.

After a shower to dispose of the fear sweat that soaked the small of my back.

The bike, however, seemed to have its own ideas, and when I came back off the motorway, I ended up in Grangetown, rolling along to a particular bakery.

Which turned out to be a charity shop. There was a convenience store still open just up the road, so I stuck my head in. A little man in salwar kameez was behind the counter.

“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?”

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. Used to get Halal lamb in, just for me, or at least that’s what he told me. Got a new place now, he has, 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.

One more piece of my life ripped away.

I was as quiet as I could be, getting back through the locked door at home, putting my lid and gloves away and hanging up my leather, but Kim was home by then, and she took one look at my face before pushing me back into the kitchen and shutting the inner door behind us.

“Wash your face before you go in there, woman. The girls don’t need to see you like this”

“You’re one of them, Kim. You can see me”

“You know bloody well how I think, Debbie. And I know you. Some of them don’t, at least not yet, so you need to stay strong, or at least look like it. Wash. I’ll sort the kettle. Tea or choccie?”

“Choccie. Please. And thanks, love”

“No need, and you bloody well know it. What the fuck is up?”

I thought for a few seconds, then shook my head.

“Not saying I won’t tell you, love; more that I can’t, really. Things got a bit too much tonight, so I went out for a ride, and, well, memories. Had a call from Graham”

She straightened up with a jerk.

“What’s happened? He had an accident?”

“Ah, no. Him and Malcolm, well, they’re emigrating. Renting out his farm, and ploughing some money they have into a place on Tenerife. What’s funny?”

“Ploughing. He has animals, not crops. Doesn’t do ploughing, not like that!”

All of a sudden, I was laughing, but that quickly turned to tears, and it was my turn to be held and healed as the younger woman—I could no longer see her as a child--- as the younger woman held me until I could speak again. I ended up leaning on her, sipping my chocolate as she cuddled me.

“I read that book, Debbie. The Elliott one”

Ouch.

“And?”

“And you don’t need to tell me, but was that you? I don’t mean were you him, just was it the same? Same as Stevie Elliott had?”

I nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see my face, but she felt the movement.

“Different place for you, though”

“Yeah. But two of the same people”

Oh.

A long pause.

“Which two”

“Don and Charlie”

“School uniform cunt?”

“I think so, yes. Long time since I read that book”

“No wonder you are so bloody screwed up, my love. Jesus. How do you manage to keep going?”

“Have to, don’t I?”

Her hug tightened.

“Not alone, Debbie. Never alone. Come on; drink up, face wash and then go for a shower or something, get the redness from your eyes and that before we talk to the others”

She packed me off upstairs, and I stood in the steam for nearly half an hour before I felt I could face them all again. Pyjamas, slippers and dressing gown on, a slight chill on the landing as I exited the sauna atmosphere of the bathroom. I made my way slowly down the stairs, trying to work out excuses for my time in the shower, but they weren’t needed.

Everyone was gathered in the main living room, eyes locked on Alicia, who was shaking. My troubles evaporated, and I hurried over to her, my arms open and ready.

“What’s up, love?”

Kim held up the mobile Nita and Heidi had given us.

“Got a text, Debbie. From Heidi. It’s Alicia’s dad”

I realised how Kim must have felt, as I turned to look at the shaking girl.

“What’s up with him?”

Kim, once more, took the lead.

“Heidi says he wants to meet up with his child. His word. Child. Not daughter”

Alicia’s voice was faint, but clear.

“Not son. He didn’t call me his son”

CHAPTER 45
I looked across to Kim, whose face was twisting a little, and I absolutely no need to ask her the reason. Abruptly, she stood up and left the room, heading for either the kitchen or the back door. Shit. I touched my face, where that bruise had lingered for far too long. Give her a minute, then go after her, see she was okay.

To my surprise, the kitchen door opened again after about thirty seconds, and she called across to Alicia.

“Heavy shit, girl, so getting back to House tradition. Kettle’s on if you want a hot choccie. Loads of us do that, and I did, first day I was here, sort of. Remember those pubs, Debbie?”

“Pubs?”

“The one that told us to piss off, the first one? Then that nice guy with the hot soup and the open fire?”

“Oh, yes. Of course”

“Well, Alicia, love, that’s what we got here. My Dad’s a shit, and he won’t never change, but we had a few words. And other stuff. He moved away after that. Your Dad like that? Violent?”

Alicia looked up, clearly shaken.

“Did you say you were doing hot stuff? Could I?”

“Course you can, love. Now, Debbie met my Dad, so once we’ve got the drinks sorted, we can talk about yours. That suit?”

A nod from the newer girl, followed by a minor exodus as the others went to sort out their own drinks while I moved across to hold Alicia, who was skirting the edge of tears.

“I never wanted to leave, Debbie. Just couldn’t take the stupid stuff any longer. Mam mostly. What do you think?”

“Talk it through as a family, girl. They’ll be back in soon. Can you do that?”

A sharp nod, before Kim and the rest were back in with steaming mugs, which reminded me to make a mental note to get more tins of the brown stuff on the next big grocery shopping run. Kim slipped in next to the two of us.

“Deb can tell you about my Dad, but I think you’ve got the idea. Em and Rach there, they had shit from theirs, but they’re not all bad. That right, Debbie?”

The pain was ever there, but she was right.

“Yeah, my Dad was a wonderful man, and Mam. Lost them… lost them both years ago. Obvious thing to say, but what I wish, well, as I said, obvious, aye? Not to have lost them. I was lucky. How lucky were you, Alicia?”

She sat and thought her answer through, which pleased me. No way would I let her go scuttling back without a good idea it would be the right thing and not simply a plea to be allowed into her family again. Hiding herself for the short term, only to have it far worse in some future explosion; I didn’t need Dr Thomas to explain that one to me.

“I think… It’s Mam, really. Always wants everything neat, in a box, always rules, isn’t it? Dad’s not like that, not really. I mean… I had a teddy, yeah? From being a little, I had it, and Mam said it was stupid, and not right for a big boy, and she wanted it thrown out, so Dad showed me how I could pull a bottom drawer out, and there was a space there, so I could… I could hide him in there so Mam couldn’t see him”

She started to weep, turning to me with a little gasp.

“Had to leave him behind when I left, didn’t I? He’ll still be there, unless Mam finds him”

A few deeper breaths.

“Could I let Dad know? See what he says? Just by text, or maybe that Heidi could talk to him?”

Kim hugged us both.

“Whatever you think is right, girl. I got to tell my Dad what I thought of him, but that was different”

I remembered her stripping away his belt, before using it on him with great enthusiasm, not to mention venom. Perhaps Alicia’s memories might be brighter, or at least cleaner. I took a quick look around the room, and there was such a mix of expressions, from soppiness to clenched jaw muscles, especially on those who had seen abuse. I took a decision, and picked up the House phone to call Heidi’s number.

“Hiya, Debbie. Not at work right now, but don’t worry. This will be about Alicia, am I right?”

“Spot on. Just a moment, while I ask her a question, so that you can hear the answer. Alicia?”

“Yeah?”

“We are talking about your private life, and it’s me and Heidi, and all the other girls who are listening. Are you okay with us all being here?”

She nodded, before realising and saying “Yeah, I’m fine” so that Heidi could hear. Heidi coughed.

“You got a speaker setting then, Debbie?”

“Wait a second”

I pushed the necessary buttons, and Heidi’s voice was there for everybody to hear.

“Hi, Alicia. Do you want me to talk through things, or do you want to do this by asking me questions?”

“About my Dad? Could you just talk?”

I understood why, as she was having a real problem controlling her voice. Heidi was straight to the point.

“Well, your Dad’s been asking us questions, love. That’s why I sorted out the burner phone—I mean it’s not registered to you, and it’s pay as you go, so it won’t link you to anyone. Anyway, he’s been ringing, and I think, from the times, it’s from work. There are many reasons he might do that”

“He doesn’t want Mam to know, does he?”

“I assume not, Alicia. Now, I am not going to ask how you are being treated there, as everyone is listening in”

“They’re all lovely here”

“Thank you, but we will stick with the formal assessments, as we are required to”

She snorted out a laugh, tinny on the phone.

“Yeah, I already know they’re all lovely, isn’t it? Now, back to your Dad. He said he has something for you. Benjy?”

Her head rose.

“My bear! Had him since I was really small; he hides under a drawer in my bedside cupboard”

“Yes, he said that. And that he had taken him out and put him in a safe place, just in case. He wants to talk to you, Alicia”

“I don’t know if I can. Did he really call me his child?”

“Yes, he did. Started to say ‘son’, and I coughed, or rather harrumphed, and he changed it to ‘child’. I did try for a little more acceptance, but all he would say was that he couldn’t do that cold. If he could see you, then perhaps he might be able to see who you are. His words, my love, not mine. I really think he’s trying his best.

“Now, I am only passing on the news, but I don’t think this is something you can or should just leap into. We don’t just drop you into something like that cold, and I have met more than a few extremely good actors. If we do this, I would want a safe and neutral place, someone in with you, and Paul and possibly another waiting nearby. I don’t take things like this lightly, my dear. Now, what I would suggest is a bit sneaky, and a little unfair on him, to be honest, at least if he himself is being honest. We wait, just for a month and a bit. Get Christmas out of the way first. Debbie?”

“Yes?”

“I have a pretty good idea of what you do for those holidays. Same again this year?”

“Marlene’s? Graham and Malcolm? I would say so, yes”

“Then we give Alicia’s Dad a Christmas without his daughter. It should concentrate his thoughts, and, if we’re lucky, stir up your Mam. You never know. Now, safe place?”

Kim raised her hand, but started talking immediately.

“Heidi? It’s Kim. My place, yeah? The café again? Close enough to here without being obvious, and there’s a quiet corner I can stick ‘Licia in. I’ll be behind the counter, and Paul can lurk round the corner. Not all flashy, his car, is it? Deb? You want to sit in as well?”

I fought back a laugh.

“Whose bloody place is this, Kim?”

She raised an eyebrow, gesturing with both arms to the other girls.

“Ours, of course!”

That broke the mood, and Alicia was almost giggling as she and Heidi signed off from the call. The new girl looked round at the others, and smiled in a way that fell short of being a happy one, but only just.

“Come on, then? What did she mean about the usual Christmas?”

Not that long afterwards, we showed her, after a small flock of teenaged girls had descended on the city centre shops for their new party outfits. The fall-out from that was hilarious, as on the actual night, Marlene had relaxed far more than I had ever seen before. Her way of showing that, of course, meant that her normal acidity dipped a lot further down the litmus scale, and Alicia only stayed because of the laughter coming from the girls around her, including two cocky students, returned home for the holidays.

Marlene caught Alicia’s reaction, and grinned ferociously.

“Don’t worry, little lady, I don’t bite, unless asked very nicely”

Nell shouted, “You’ve said that one before, Marlene!”

A grin.

“Well, I’m a traditionalist, aren’t I? Yes, you with the tattoos? No! You with the fucking ugly tattoos and the shit taste in piercings! Order or fuck off away from my bar!”

She was off, doing her usual acid queen-bitch routine, so we tugged Alicia over to our reserved corner as Graham drew Malcolm towards the dance floor, and as Alicia dissolved into gasps of laughter, Kim was peering around as if scoping for threats.

“Ah, shit. They think he’s a bloody twink!”

“Who, love?”

“Over by the door, boy in the hoody, the Adidas one. By the leather boys”

“Who?”

She looked a little worried.

“Um, I asked Phil if he’d like to come out”

“And what about the other girls? What if they feel a bit exposed?”

“Um, we had a chat before… I told him it’s all friends, with my Aunty to look after us. His Dad’s picking him up later, and he can’t feel he’s being gayed up cause he’s here with me, and I’m a girl, so it’s just the dancing and shit and music”

“Bugger. A little warning next time, please? Please?”

“OK. Hang on, he’s just waving. PHIL!”

The lad wasn’t exactly a clone of Oily, but I was watching Kim’s face as he came over, and she lit up. The boy was blushing beetroot red.

“I thought, those men, I…”

He grabbed her for a hug, clearly trying to decide whether to push his luck, but left things at that, turning to me with a hand held out.

“Hi, you must be Kim’s Aunty. I’m Phil”

I took his hand: soft, but a firm grip.

“Debbie, love. Just Debbie. What’s your Dad doing?”

“Dad taxi, tonight. Can’t stay out all night, but he says he’ll pick me up about half ten or eleven, just need to ring when I’m ready”

Nervous as all hell, I thought, but he was there, and he was clearly ‘with’ Kim. I couldn’t decide at first if that was as a defence against interested young men, but as the evening wore on, and he relaxed, I decided that it was actual affection. He would bear watching, but he was doing well thus far.

He was gone at ten forty-five, Kim seeing him to the door and waiting to make sure he was safely collected, and I am sure my girl was otherwise occupied while they waited, as her lipstick needed quite a bit or repair work on her return. Not that long after Phil’s departure, we were all heading home in a group of large taxis I had stumped out for, and yes: I had deliveries to make on Boxing Day.

It was still a bloody good Christmas, especially as it was their first ever for so many of my girls. I will gloss over New Year; Phil most definitely was not invited to that one!

More tea runs, more deliveries of hot soup when the weather really turned shitty, and more reminders to every one of us how lucky we were, as Sparky called in two deaths from hypothermia, or hunger, or just fucking loneliness, two human beings stiff and cold under piles of plastic and old cardboard as the better off walked past them to the theatre or some overpriced eatery or other.

I paid my obligations, but that Winter almost all of them went forward. Thank god for my girls.

Two months into the new year and I was buzzing with delight, as Cathy had given me the news about the change in the law with the Gender Recognition Act. So many opportunities would have been open to me, if my life had actually been a little better-served by luck. I shackled down my feelings as I took my seat in Ruth’s place, my mobile set for a speed dial to Paul’s own, as he sat with Nita in an unmarked car parked around the corner. Kim supplied me with tea, and then Heidi walked in with Alicia, to take a seat in the table Ruth had set aside for them in the back of the café. If this particular Daddy Dearest wanted to be shitty, he would have to get past me to the exit, and Paul would be there in no time.

Alicia had gone for an outfit that left no doubt as to her gender, a wool skirt with opaque tights and Mary-Janes under a pink fleece. The nerves were clearly there, and she gave me a small nod just before the little bell on the café door tinkled and a tall man walked in.

CHAPTER 46
I could see some of Alicia’s face in him, but he was much taller, his hair a shade lighter, what was left of it. He paused immediately in front of me for a few seconds as he scanned the room, looking for his ‘son’, no doubt. I looked over to Alicia, and caught her nudging Heidi. That answered one question, at least, for I had wondered whether he had been sitting in her office for his chats or if she had been keeping the same arms’ length relationship that I tried to. One Dearest Daddy calling at the House had been more than enough.

Heidi turned to Alicia, and I could read her mind as her eyebrows lifted in mute enquiry: are you sure about this?

A sharp nod from the girl, and Heidi raised a hand, staring straight at the man.

“Mister Wallis?”

His head jerked round at her call, then turned slightly to take in Alicia. I caught a very quiet sigh of “Oh, hell” before he took the few steps over to his child and her guardian.

“Hello, Dad. This is Mrs Milton”

Another few seconds, and then he waved at the table. I was close enough to hear them clearly.

“It’s cold out there. I am going to get a cuppa. Can I get you something while I’m up? Cake?”

Alicia dropped her head for a few seconds, and once more I could read minds, and hers was clearly thinking of occupied hands.

“They do a nice ham and cheese toasty here, and tea would be nice”

He nodded, then turned to Heidi, setting his small rucksack on the floor by the table leg.

“Can I get you a refill, or something? A toasty as well? I don’t want… Can I have a little time with my child?”

“Not alone, I am afraid, not given the circumstances”

“Okay, I understand. Another ham and cheese?”

“Cheese and mushroom, if I can be cheeky. And a latte for me”

He walked over to the counter, where Kim smiled at him.

“Could I have two teas, a latte, two ham and cheese toasties and a mushroom and cheese one, please?”

Kim nodded.

“You sitting with the two ladies? I’ll do your teas, then bring the rest over. Unless you want a proper pot? We’ve got different blends, leaf tea, rather than a mug with a bag”

“Er, um, English breakfast, then? For two?”

“No worries. I’ll put it on a tab, in case you fancy anything else”

“I don’t know, really”

“Sir, if I didn’t work here, I would most definitely be fancying everything! Grab a seat and I’ll be over in a bit with the drinks”

Oh, Kim, you smooth little sod: ‘Sitting with the ladies’ must have made a real impact on him. Wallis went back to the table, once more taking a measurable moment to look at my newest girl before drawing back the chair and sitting down opposite the pair.

A few deep breaths, and then, “What do I call you? Michael sounds odd with you, well. Like this”

Once again, she dropped her eyes.

“Alicia, Dad. It’s my name”

“It’s not what we called you”

“It’s what I like, Dad. It’s what everyone else calls me”

She paused a second, before adding, “You could at least try”

Kim scurried across to their table with a tray.

“Which one of you ladies having the latte?”

Heidi held up a hand, and Kim set the glass before her. Teapot and cups, strainer and sugar went between Alicia and her father, and Kim straightened with a grin, before nodding to Alicia.

“Give it a minute to brew before you be Mother, love!”

A glance at Mr Wallis’ shoulders, and I could see him trembling. His cup rattled on the saucer as he set it the right way up, the teaspoon falling to the table. He picked it up, staring at it as if the stainless steel had suddenly become the most fascinating of things.

“You don’t take sugar, do you. Alicia”

A perceptible pause, and a tremor in his voice to match those in his shoulders and hands. He switched his focus to Heidi.

“My child, Mrs Milton. I named him. Her. Not easy, is it? All I want is my child home again. Is there anything wrong in that?”

The girl spoke up, her voice firmer, more determined than it had been. I wondered if she was gaining strength from her father’s frailty.

“Not going back, Dad. Not the way Mam is, not when she wants me tortured, just for being me”

“Your Mam’s moving out, love”

Another pause, as he seemed to process the word he had just used.

“She said I was no good as a father, that if I couldn’t father a son properly, then I was no good. When I say ‘moving out’, well, I mean it’s me at the moment, staying with your Bamps and Nana for now. Not leaving her with the house, though”

Heidi coughed for attention.

“Are you separating on a trial basis, or looking for a permanent divorce, Mr Wallis?”

His head dipped to one side.

“Divorce, I suppose. A few things been said neither of us can take back, isn’t it?”

“What about custody of Alicia? Is her mother seeking to be awarded that?”

He nodded, then shook his head.

“She is, but I think it’s spite. Wants to show me, everyone, how to bring up a boy. Her way”

“Are you contesting the application?”

“Bloody hell, aye! After what she wanted done to Michael! I mean Alicia. Sorry. Not easy, this. Yes; I will be fighting her”

“Be aware, Mr Wallis, that it isn’t as simple as that. My own people will have a say in this, not just you and your wife. Alicia will be going nowhere unless we can be certain that it is in the best of her interests. For the moment, she is in a safe place”

“What, a kids’ home? Heard about those places, I have!”

“Dad!”

“Yes… love?”

“Can you look at me, please? Just look, then tell me if I look as if I’m frightened?”

He stared for a few minutes, then spoke again, his voice soft.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you? About me?”

“Yes, Dad. About you. The place I am in is wonderful. Everyone there is nice to me, and the lady who runs it is lovely. Really cares. And… and it is all girls there”

She indicated her face and clothing.

“We went out, the other girls and me, and we did some shopping. The other girls and me. And they go to school properly, and two of them are at University now, and nobody talks about giving me electric shocks or makes me kneel for hours with a bible”

She reached across for his hand, and he let her take it.

“Got my own room at the moment, cause the girl who was there is one of those at University. Think I’ll probably end up sharing, if someone else comes, but that’s OK, because I trust the other girls. My old room, at home: not much of me there, was there? Football posters were from Mam, weren’t they?”

“There was this, love”

He reached down for the little rucksack, bringing it onto his lap before unzipping it. Out came a medium-sized and very well-worn brown teddy bear. Alicia’s eyes lit up.

“Benjy!”

“I knew where he was going to be, love. I mean, I suggested it, after all. I just wondered, you know, if he might remind you of home. Found this with it”

The next thing he brought out was a folded piece of cloth, pale blue, with something printed on it.

“Want to tell me?”

Alicia smiled, and it was a soft one, then turned to Heidi.

“Had some cash, years ago. Went into town, and bought it. That’s Eeyore on the front. Sleep shirt, a lot bigger than my size. Told the girl I was getting it for Mam’s birthday. Used to get up really early, change out of it in case she wanted to wake me up on school mornings. It’ll be smelly, Dad; I couldn’t put it in the wash unless Mam was out”

His shoulders were now shaking rapidly, and I realised he was doing his best not to sob out loud. My girl was out of her seat, wrapping herself around him and using a serviette to wipe his face, until he could bring the shakes under control. Alicia pushed the rucksack from his lap, turning herself to sit in its place before burying her head in his shoulders as his arms went around her, hugging her tightly. She sat their for at least a minute, before Wallis reached across to take Heidi’s hand in his.

“Thank you. Thank you for keeping my… my girl here safe. I have no idea at all how I could have been so blind. Thank you”

He took his hand back to hold his daughter again, then softly asked if he could see where she was saying. Heidi shot that one down.

“Not possible, Mr Wallis. The facility remains a place of safety, and we maintain that by not advertising its location. What we can do is let you and Alicia meet, under supervision, until all parties can be satisfied that we have a safe way forward. Thank you, though, for doing your best. We always prefer that a child is with their family, if that is appropriate, and recognise that estrangement can often be ameliorated when all sides are willing to compromise. Will that be acceptable for now? I will emphasise that my offer isn’t actually an offer, but a statement. Until we are satisfied, she will remain in our care”

“But I can see her?”

“Absolutely, but for now, it will be under supervision. Now, I am very well aware of what this place offers in temptations, so if I leave you for a minute, it will be to collect the list of today’s cakes”

She rose, made her way to the counter and picked up the slate which listed the day’s offers, quietly slipping a hand over to squeeze Kim’s in obvious thanks. A little bit of anodyne conversation, obviously for the benefit of one man, and she walked back to the other two with the slate.

“Right, my treat, this one. I am having what is described here as ‘mass murder by chocolate’. Alicia? Mr Wallis?”

Kim turned to look over her father’s shoulder.

“Could I please have the carrot cake, Mrs Milton? Dad?”

“Um? Er, coffee and walnut?”

The meeting got better and better after that, and in the end, Heidi and Alicia walked him back to his car, and as I dd my best to look like some random woman pausing in the street to zip up her fleece, they hugged their goodbyes. Alicia reached in to kiss his cheek; after a couple of seconds, he bent down, kissed hers, and climbed into his car before driving away sharply. I could see the dampness on his cheeks as he passed.

CHAPTER 47
I waited until his car was out of sight, before approaching Alicia and Heidi, who was on her phone.

“Yes… yes… Thanks. Hang on a second”

She raised her eyes to mine.

“Paul is following him to see where he goes. So far, it looks as if he’s heading out of the city. Now, would you be happy if Anita and him come back to yours in a bit? Council of war, if you take my meaning?”

I nodded, and she brought the phone back to her ear.

“Nita? Yes. Once you’re sure. Yes, I’ll ask! No, we had some already, ta”

She ended the call, slipping the phone into her handbag.

“They’ll be round in a while, and she says that she knows she’s being cheeky, but could she beg a hot chocolate? She suggested a stop at this place to get some cakes, and when I told her we’d already had ours, she called me something very rude”

We made our way to my back door, where I worked through the locks. As soon as it was open, Alicia went directly to the kettle. I left her to set out the mugs and makings and led Heidi into the sitting room. She slumped into an armchair with a deep sigh.

“I hate those, Debbie. All you want to do is see people sort their lives out, and you have to remind yourself all the time: professional, dispassionate, let the dog see the rabbit but don’t kick its backside. Sorry, just, you get it wrong, you are always the one who gets blamed. How much did you manage to hear?”

“All of it, I think”

“Yeah, well. I am not completely sure he was sincere, but if not, he was a bloody good actor. I am just so grateful the mother wasn’t there, from what I have heard and read, especially from the shrink she referred our charge to”

She barked out a sudden laugh.

“I can only imagine he felt like I do! All of his report was stuff like ‘some reluctance to engage with modern mores’, and I am sure he really wanted to say something like ‘What a psycho nutter bitch’! Oh. That kitchen door is shut, isn’t it?”

I had to laugh at that one, and she just grinned.

“I am actually hopeful, Debbie, for the first time in what seems like centuries, that I can see a positive outcome for a kid. Please don’t take this the wrong, way, but I really don’t like sending them to you, because it means things are already broken”

The kitchen door rattled open, and Alicia came in with a tray, followed by Paul and Nita.

“I let them in, Debbie. I hope that’s OK?”

“That’s fine, love. What you made us?”

There was a shy smile.

“Everyone’s got chocolate except Mrs Milton, cause she’s already had too much”

She paused, just for an instant.

“Done you tea, but there’s a mug ready to go if you want”

There was laughter, some of it nervous, but still laughter. Nita nodded to Heidi, and she waited for the giggles to subside.

“What did you think, Alicia? About what your Dad told us? Sit down first, please”

Alicia found an unoccupied chair, settling into the cushions with a sigh and using her own mug as a shield from answering too quickly. A sip, a smile to us all.

“Have I got a choccie moustache?”

Heidi chuckled.

“We can wait, girl. I get paid for being here, after all”

“Ah. Not used to this, talking about Dad. I think he was trying. I hope he is”

She took another sip.

“I just wish I knew how long he can keep it up. I mean, if Mam’s gone…”

She looked up again, and she was clearly hit hard by a wave of emotion.

“Is it right, Debbie? Right to not want to see your own mother again?”

I had another flashback, standing at the door of the old family home as the woman who had given birth to me effectively threatened to call the police if I didn’t leave. I shook my head.

“No, not wrong, love. Just a bit unusual, and something it would be good to think hard about. And you are thinking. Watch and wait, Alicia. She may come round, in the end. When “It’s a hard one, Alicia. When you see you really are losing something, someone, when it’s really there, in your face, you usually think again. If your Mam can’t do that, well, you take my point. Watch and wait, wait and see, whatever sounds best. Hope for that best, that’s what I think, but make plans for the not-so-good. How do you want to deal with your Dad?”

“Dunno, really. Got school and stuff, and if I get settled there, I don’t want… I got bullied at my old school. If I go back as Alicia, as ME, it would be loads worse. And it’s more than that, Debbie. It’s here, yeah? This is the first… Look. I know what I said that day we met, how I had heard things about homes and shit---sorry. About bullying and that. It isn’t like that here, not like I was scared of. First time ever”

She trailed off for a few slow breaths, then gave us a smile that struggled to be honest.

“First time I have ever really had friends, and these are friends who understand me. Friends I can really talk to, friends I can share stuff with. If I go home, I lose them. If I stay here, I might lose Dad. I just don’t have anu idea what to do! I mean, Dad’s all the way over to Briton Ferry, and school the girls go to is here in the city, so if I go home it’s impossible”

Nita raised a hand.

“I get what you’re saying, Alicia, but there is one thing you are missing, and that is the fact that you are now in care, our care that is. No simple decision, no legal way of him simply taking you back in, all slates wiped clean, nothing like that. He what he gets to see you only if that is what you want, AND if it makes sense to us, or rather Heidi’s lot. Mrs Milton’s. So we have time, and I want to use that in the best way. Let him show us he’s genuine in his remorse. Rehabilitated, that’s the posh term. You up for that, Alicia?”

“What do I do, we do, then?”

Heidi shrugged, and nodded to Nita.

“If Debbie is happy, you stay here for now, and we work through some meetings with your Dad. Supervised ones at first, then if they’re OK, we do some secret squirrel stuff, which will probably involve Nita here”

Nita grinned at that.

“Hasn’t seen me, has he? Anyway, I intend to do some snooping over that way. Where’s your grandparents at?”

“Neath”

“Thanks, my girl. Can you write their address down for me? I will want to see who’s going in and out of both addresses. Now, I know Debbie, and I will assume that she will be happy with you here. What we need from you is just your word that you will be happy here, for now. Can we assume that as well, Alicia?”

A sharp nod, and a much warmer smile.

“So I get to stay with the girls for now, but see my Dad?”

Another shrug from Heidi.

“That’s the plan. Shall we see if we can make it work? And did you say that you had a mug ready for me? Shit. Sorry; my phone’s on silent, just gone off. Borrow your kitchen, Debbie? I’ll make my own cocoa, if it’s OK”

She was back in a couple of minutes, shaking her head.

“Never stops. Never, ever, stops. Deb? How are you for room? Just had a call from the James Street nick, and they’ve got a kid in, found wandering round the Mermaid Quay shops. Gave their name as Andrea. One of the security guards said the kid was shoplifting, so when the police got there, they gave them a quick search, and there were extras in their knickers”

I did a quick mental reshuffle: move Maisie into the other student’s room, stick the new girl in with Patricia or Serena…

“Hang on, Heidi. Was this Andrea actually lifting?”

She shook her head.

“No. Nothing found, unless she had passed it on to someone else. Some of the wannabe plod there have a habit of seeing things before they happen, if you get me. I was watching your face, and you were moving girls around, weren’t you?”

I nodded, and she chuckled.

“Mother bloody hen, you are. Now, Alicia?”

“Yeah?”

“I need to go. We got a plan, or not?”

“I stay here for now, see Dad, see how it goes?”

“Yup”

“Okay then”

“Ta! Nita?”

They were off, Heidi’s mug abandoned in the kitchen. An hour later, the back door thumped shut after Kim’s return, which of course meant a giggle fest in the living room after a few tears from Alicia. I waited for them to settle, before asking Kim two of the three questions I had been holding back.

“Kim?”

“Debbie?”

“Ruth not in today?”

“Na, she had something to sort out at the doctor’s, with Max. Said I know how the place works, and not to eat all the chocolate cake”

“Ah. She do that regularly?”

“What. Eat all the chocolate cake?”

“No. Leave you in charge, on your own”

Kim nodded, looking a little worried.

“Who does all the tills and that, at the end of the day?”

“She does. It’s just that sometimes we need something in a hurry, or there’s something she needs to do with her boy. Never all day”

“Thanks, love. Oh, and well done, by the way. When you said ‘Which of you ladies?’ I thought he was going to wet himself. Now, I have another question, and that is one for Ruth. Would she be happy if he meets up with Alicia in the café?”

“I think so. I’ll ask her, yeah?”

“Thanks again, love. Now, on another subject, how is…?”

Her grin was absolutely radiant.

“Philip? He is fine! Better than fine. He wants me to go birdwatching with him”

“I didn’t know he was into that”

“He isn’t, but he knows you are, and he said if we go down to that bit on the waterfront, the reserve thing, the three of us, then if it gets cold he can take me for a coffee and you might want to stay watching the feathery things”

The devious little sod, but it would be daytime, so less risk of a ‘wandering hands’ situation.

“And what did you say, Kim my dear?”

“Well, duh! ‘Yes’, of course. Said I’d find out what shifts you’ve got, and we can go from there”

She laughed happily, before adding the comment, “Cathy and Nell are going to be SO jealous!”

A few seconds later, she spoke again, this time in a much softer voice.

“You know, Debbie? I hope they won’t be jealous. I hope they won’t need to be. Anyway… Anyway, brought over a big tray-bake thing of lasagne. That’ll do us all for tonight. Not doing the washing-up, though!”

It did indeed serve us all that evening, and two hours after Patricia, Serena and Emma had sorted the dishes, Heidi was back with our new charge, a rail-thin child of about fourteen, who called themself Andrea. I fitted her into a bunk with Serena, and spent a few days on leave as I tried to get the sort-of-girl to open up.

Three nights later, and she was gone, out through the emergency exit in the second house in the small hours, with our television.

CHAPTER 48
Three days after that, on a rest day from work, there was a hammering at the back door. When I looked through the spyhole, Sparky was standing outside in the light rain that had made the last few days a miserable experience. I quickly unlocked everything and waved him into the warmth of the kitchen, but before I could offer him a cuppa he was holding up a hand for silence.

“You got a number for that copper of yours, Debbie?”

“Paul? Yes. What’s up, love?”

“It’s Paula, sort of. I know he’s soft on her, so I want to keep her out of things for now”

I turned to the kettle on a sudden wave of fear. Get Sparky warmed up, call Paul, find out what…

“Is she hurt?”

“No, not her. She found someone who was, though, and as she was off her face at the time, I don’t want her anywhere near the usual filth. Paul’s got some common in him. He’ll understand. That tea you’re doing?”

“Yes. You can warm up while you explain”

“Phone first, please. Or ring him first, then I can explain while you do the brew”

I pulled out my mobile, pressing the speed dial for PC Welby, and he answered after the fourth ring.

“Hiya Debbie. What do you need?”

Sparky was just holding his hand out for the phone, so after a quick “Sparky needs a word”, I handed it over, and of course I only got half the conversation.

“Copper”

“No, she’s fine. Got a problem, though”

“Found a deader”

“Skip out by East Moors. I called an ambulance twenty minutes ago”

“No. Cold, but not stiff. Been dead at least a couple of hours”

“Because your girl found them, mate. And sg’s higher than a fucking kite right now, cause Mo’s been round playing Mister Fucking Concerned Owner”

“Yeah, I can wait here. Debbie’s done me a cuppa, and it is a shitty day outside”

“How do I know? You’re the bloody community plod, son!”

“Yeah. See you in a few minutes”

He ended the call and passed the mobile to me with a sigh.

“He’s coming here to pick me up, Deb. I need to give him something for his notebook, and then we’ll be off. He’s letting his boss know, sort of, and then he’ll be here. Asks if the pot will be warm”

“Talk to me, mate?”

He wrapped both hands around the mug before settling onto one of the two stools I kept in the kitchen.

“Ah, pile of crap in a skip that looked as if it hasn’t been moved since the last war. Paula was looking for customers around the industrial estate, fuck knows why, but as she was on Planet Smack, she probably had no idea herself. Says she was holding onto the skip to save herself a tumble. Looked in the skip, saw some old carpet, with a trainer sticking out from underneath. Then she realises there’s a foot in it, and someone’s under the carpets. Moira was looking for her; at least she wasn’t as headfucked as Paula. Been a user longer, I suppose. Anyway, she finds someone with a phone who doesn’t just tell her to fuck off, fourth or fifth she asks, isn’t it? Calls an ambulance, then gets Paula and herself away”

I had just finished filling the tea pot when there was another bang at the back door, and after a nod from me, Sparky let Paul in, then turned a hard look on me.

“You need to sit in the front room for a while, girl, while we talk. Just to be safe”

Paul nodded, with a tight grin, as he pulled out his notebook.

“I think we know how to pour tea, Debbie. We’ll be as quick as we can”

They took fifteen minutes in the end, before Sparky put his head around the door.

“Taking him down there, love, but we’ll be back. Any chance of a meal tonight: Sorry to be so blunt”

“I’ll warn the girls, mate. And you know what my answer will always be to that question”

A grin even more artificial than Paul’s had been, and they were gone. I picked up the phone to call Ruth, and she offered to send Kim home after work with another tray of lasagne. Before then, I had a steady flow of girls in from school, and once they were settled, I called a house meeting in the other dining room.

“Girls, I need to warn you that we will have a couple of men in the House for tea tonight. You know them both: Sparky and PC Welby. They want to eat with us tonight, but if any of you want to stay out of the way, then we can set up the table in the other house. There’s a bit of a nasty one they are dealing with, I have no details, but it does sound like they’ll need some smiles. Can we do our best for them? Kim’s bringing one of those tray lasagnes home, so if a couple of you can sort a bowl of salad, that would be a real help”

Maisie looked around the group before turning back to me.

“Debbie… It’s a death, isn’t it?”

I just nodded, and once more she checked with the others.

“Then yes. We do our best for them. Right, you lot? These are the good guys, so it’s our turn to do some looking after”

I left them to sort out the division of duties and returned to the living room, setting a Martin Simpson instrumental disc playing as something to bring my anxiety level down. There was something unsaid going on, some detail that Sparky was keeping from me, and I was struggling to keep myself from riding out after them. The girls, they were my concern, my priority. Look after the boys when they got in, and let the girls find their own ways of helping.

It was two hours before they returned, and Paul looked grimmer than Sparky.

“A word, Deb? In private?”

Stomach churning, we went into the kitchen that I was now starting to think of as an airlock, where he made me sit down.

“You missing anyone, Debbie? Lost a resident?”

Oh shit; I realised immediately why he had sat me down.

“Yes. Couple or three days ago, she went off with our little telly, small hours, out of the fire escape door at the back”

“What details do you have on them?”

“Not much, apart from the name she was using. Andrea. Heidi would have more details”

“Sent Anita a text, so she’ll be on it. I want… No. The Central nick had sent someone down, and the body is in the hospital morgue. Looks like the two girls showed the bloke with the phone what was in the skip and then legged it. He was sound enough to stay on for the ambulance, so unless someone gets pushy, Moira and Paula are out of the loop. Can we get the meal I know you’ve got for us out of the way first?”

My stomach was almost cramping by then.

“You want me to go to the hospital, don’t you?”

He nodded, looking down at his feet as he spoke.

“Just confirm she was the one with you, Deb. Heidi can do the rest of it. Sorry, but if we can confirm it’s not another runaway, we can avoid all the door-knocking. As long as you are up to it, of course”

So we went to the other room, and we ate our meal, and then Paul drove me there.

Andrea looked about twelve years old on the slab, where a chirpy medic or mortician or technician or whatever, who wouldn’t fucking shut up, rambled on about the ligature mark and needle wound by her left bicep and elbow, until I told him plainly to shut the fuck up and Paul steered me sharply away.

We drove back to the House in silence, as I wondered what I was going to do. I had lost a girl, really lost one, and I had let down Heidi and Nita, and my failure was lying grey and cold while a dickhead chuckled over her. If it hadn’t neem for the other girls waiting for me, I would have walked directly into Harry’s place, do not pass home. Do not collect sobriety. Paul collected Sparky, who left me after a hug, and I was alone with my charges.

“Girls, I have some news, so can we all have a little chat?”

Kim looked green.

“It was Andrea, wasn’t it?”

I nodded, and she leant forward, a finger to my lips.

“No. Not your fault, and no crap about locked doors. That’s the thing about this place: if you locked us in, we’d just leave, most of us. That’s what this place is, a home, a real one, not a Home, not a prison. You lost one, WE lost one, but the rest of us, those two off to Uni, you did that. So shut it. What did they say, about how she went and that?”

“Um, needle stuff”

Maisie made an odd sound, almost a snarl.

“That’ll have been Mo, or one of the others like him”

Heads turned to look at her, and she grimaced.

“Look, I know I was stupid, what I thought, yeah? Bit of gobbling, keep it to that? Well, I got my lesson, didn’t I, and I did talk to some of the girls, and I got some warnings. Always looking for new merchandise, those bastards, and they get the kids to think they’re bloody Santa. Somewhere to hang out, some booze, then it’s ‘try a bit of this, love, it’s really good stuff”

I shook my head.

“Only three days, Maisie”

“Yeah, but what was she doing before Mrs Milton’s lot got her?”

Kim turned a smile onto Maisie.

“You are coming along, girl!”

“Yeah, but got a lot to live up to, haven’t I?”

She looked around the room, then back at me.

“This going to sound silly, but it might work. Can someone clear the table?”

Once everything was out of the way, she went to the sideboard and rummaged through the collection of board games and jigsaw puzzles that had accumulated over the years, returning with the Monopoly set.

“We do this, and we leave the bad stuff alone tonight. Everyone in?”

We ended up playing as a mixture of solos and pairs, as we outnumbered the playing pieces, and as Maisie had clearly intended, the game sucked up or attention long enough to take us all to bedtime.

In the end, my worries about Heidi and Nita were unfulfilled, Heidi in particular muttering something about lazy bastards who couldn’t be bothered to write a full referral, and although there was an inquest, the little I had to offer in the way of evidence was given directly to the coroner or whatever he was called, in private. It turned out that the autopsy had shown other needle marks, and the referring social worker had somehow failed to mention that the poor runaway she had passed on to her colleagues was a known heroin user.

I found myself comparing my three friends, Paul, Heidi and Nita, with other coppers I had met, other social workers I had met, and the phrase rose in my mind before I could slap it down, as it hadn’t been a hospital pass bur a mortuary one.

All sounds so simple, so quick, but it was neither; more than anything, though, it showed me how much I needed the girls for my own sanity. That was confirmed when our two students, after what turned out to have been an e-mail from Kim, simply drove home from Aberystwyth to make sure I was safe.

It still bloody hurt, though, and I could never shake off that feeling of being a failure, never lose that memory of Andrea, grey and cold. On the end, I rang Pat for advice, and she actually laughed down the phone.

Laughed, that is, after I had spent far too long sobbing.

“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? PSV? 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, please! 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?”

“You sure, love?”

“Absolutely. Can you give me a few minutes, and I’ll call you back? Oh: how many would it be?”

I did a quick headcount.

“Um, ten girls here with me at the moment, so that would fit the bus. Nell and Cathy are at University, Aberystwyth”

“Early Easter, then, but not that weekend. It’ll fit with school breaks and stuff, and we can avoid the bank holidays. Call you back in a bit”

As good as her word, the phone rang again forty minutes later.

“Debbie?”

“Yup?”

“Got a friend who works there part-time, woman called Sue. She’s got some dates and prices to offer you, and they can fit all twelve of them in. Can I give her your e-mail?”

“Go ahead, please. I can let Bert, my boss, I can let him know, and he’ll sort me a bus. Just got to confirm it with my girls first”

“I shall await your call, then. Be good. Oh, and bugger sleeping in a bunk bed. I know a two-bedroom cottage that I can rent”

“But you were talking about sleeping on top of Foel Grach!”

She laughed, and it was a happy sound.

“I am happy in a sleeping bag, I am happy in a tent, bit dormitories are the work of Satan! If I am sleeping in a bed, it will be alone”

There was a short silence at the other end of the line, before she spoke again.

“I really ought to think about what I’m saying before it leaves my mouth. Do the rounds, Deb, and let me know. I will see you there”

CHAPTER 49
I understood her sudden stop, so I left it there. As long as she could make it, I would be more than satisfied. I started the usual process of checking for any new gear we would need, such as boots, and ran the idea past Nita. She was in a dark mood when we met up at Tesco’s, as I took a break in their store café.

“Heidi is furious, Deb. Absolutely livid, and I think she is looking for a disciplinary against the lazy cow”

I really didn’t want to dwell on it, but I couldn’t help feeling that I owed Nita and Heidi more than just the courtesy of listening to their complaints.

“You able to share it, Nita?”

She sighed, putting down her cup a little too sharply, some of her coffee spilling into the saucer. As she set a paper napkin under the cup, she spoke without looking at me.

“I was never a social worker, Debbie, but a copper”

“I know that. How we met, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it was. What I do now, well, never wanted to do the social work bit, but it seeps in. Been Heidi’s life for too long, and I know she’s said it to you, because she says it to everyone. Get it wrong, and they’re on you like a ton of bricks. Get it right, stop the harm ever happening, and it’s the same thing. Like being a referee”

“What?”

She looked up at me then, with a hint of a grin.

“Referee mike, in rugby, aye? I heard one of them once, I think it was Norling, and he said something like ‘Number Eight, don’t even think about doing what I know you’re thinking’, and that is good reffing, knowing the players, knowing the game, stopping the crap before it gets started. The players, the fans, they understand that. With Heidi’s lot, they don’t. Unless they can see a reason to intervene, then they criticise. If she waits until there’s a reason, we end up down the hospital, and the same people want to know why she didn’t stop it earlier. Can’t bloody win. This has gone cold. Want a refill?”

I just nodded, recognising her need to vent, or at least share some common humanity, and once she was back with the two fresh cups, she started again.

“Kid, Andrea, she was in and out of places before Heidi got her. Someone, somewhere, got wind of what we were doing with trans girls, you and us, and thought they’d get one off the books. Like selling a second-hand car, it was. Disguise the rust and the scratches, get shot of it ASAP, not their problem now, is it? Lots of stuff filtered in the referral, promises of the full file following along as soon as it was signed off, just need somewhere to keep Andrea safe, etc. They were hoping that it would all be Heidi’s problem by the time the paperwork caught up, and now it’s nobody’s bloody problem. Not anymore”

I took her hand, and she squeezed mine hard.

“That’s where we cling to you, girl. The one who made it, the one I sort of got right. If you can make it, who better to lead others into the light? Anyway, enough. Heidi will skin the lazy sod, and you have another trip planned. Want to talk me through it?”

“Ah, my usual place, but not camping this time. Friend of a friend has a deal on Plas Y Brenin”

“Hmm. That’ll cost a bit. Want me to tee up the education people? Look for a one-off grant?”

“If you can, but we’re still going, grant or not”

That last brought a true smile, and I saw her own light in it.

“I would expect no less from you, Debbie. One day I may join you up there, try and make some better memories. I think your lorry should be empty by now. Many more deliveries to do today?”

“Two more, then done. I’m on the longer runs next week, bit more relaxing”

“Then keep me up to speed. If we can avoid any further… Just do your best, and Andrea wasn’t your fault. Heidi will sort that one, OK?”

She was gone, a little chink in her hard shell exposed for an instant, and I collected my empty wagon for the run back to Fratelli’s and another loaded trailer.

The girls were noisy on the long drive up, as we once more took a detour through England for its faster roads. After Llangollen and Dinas Bran, the roads got much more scenic, and I was hearing several oohs and ahs from those who had never seen the hills before.

“Debbie?”

“Yes, Kim?”

“Can we do the stop by that pub again, if the clouds are right? Where you first see all the hills?”

“Geeler Arms? Yup, I think so. You want to do the tour guide thing?”

“Already am, woman! Can’t have our driver distracted, can we?”

I found myself chuckling at her cockiness, but that fight and determination had shown itself on our first meeting, so no surprises there.

“How’s Phil?”

“Um, he’s got a place at Cardiff. Media studies. Wants to go into journalism. Chat when we stop, OK?”

Along the undulating and scary straight, watching for bloody stupid overtaking from oncoming idiots, and onto the verge by the road to the pub. Kim had been right, and the clouds were sitting high enough to see all the bits of Snowdonia I knew spread out before us like a buffet. Once she had talked them through the names and heights of the peaks, she drifted back to me for the chat she had mentioned. I raised an eyebrow.

“So. Phil, then?”

“Yeah. Got his place, but he wants to live in, not stay with his parents. Wants to be free to, you know, live a bit”

“Not have his parents complaining when he comes home pissed?”

“Yeah. That. And… And be able to have visitors that don’t have to go home when his Mam starts looking at the clock in a significant way”

“Ah. And these visitors, they would actually be one visitor. Would be you, in fact?”

She dropped her eyes, kicking a loose stone across the road.

“Yeah. And before you say anything, he knows about me”

“And he doesn’t care about that?”

“Course he cares, but he says he cares about me, and that means he can deal with… Debbie?”

“Yes?”

“We’ve been dealing with it, that bit, for a month now. And I think it’s working for both of us. Am I being stupid, do you think?”

I wrestled down the immediate surges of memory, of Cooper, and Carl, to find a smile underneath.

“No, not stupid at all, love. He’s a good lad. Just be careful, OK?”

She nodded, and came in for the inevitable hug, before whispering in my ear.

“Oh, and when I say it’s working for us, well, shit, it is working bloody well that way!”

A peck on the cheek, and she was off to the others to herd them back on board for the last leg.

Betws was busy, but once we had escaped the main street, we were into lighter traffic all the way to Capel Curig, where a chorus of gasps and wows followed the appearance of the view of Cwm Dyli across the twin lakes. I pulled up in front of the Pinnacle Café and gave Pat a ring; ten minutes later, she was at the van offering more hugs and a broad smile for everyone, another woman in tow. Kim took over.

“Girls, this is Pat, a really good friend of Debbie and me. She’s the one who sorted out where we are all staying, so be nice to her!”

The older woman took a little bow, before pointing down the road.

“The Centre is just down there, and Debbie and I have our own little place to stay. There is a pub THAT way that I fully intend to visit at seven-thirty tonight, so we shall get settled in straight away. This is Sue, a friend of mine, and she will show you all where to drop your stuff. She is happy to drive the van, Deb. Part of her job here”

Sod it, I thought, only a few hundred yards, and my legs ached. I pulled my bags out, watched the van recede down the road to the Centre, and then followed Pat a little way down the same road until we found a right turn to a group of cottages. Pat led us to the front door of one, grinning happily.

“Tea should be brewed by now, love!”

It was indeed, and those responsible were Nell and Cathy, so the hugs and the smiles went on for quite a while. I frowned at Pat over Cathy’s shoulder.

“Two bedrooms, you said”

“Ah, they’re students. Sleeping mats and bags in the living room, beds for us. Now, we all know what happened. Are you OK?”

I started to say something facile, and Cathy gave me a little shake.

“No silliness, Debbie. Are you OK?”

In the end, I just shook my head.

“No, not really, but this is probably the best place to get better. Girls are all excited, which will take my mind off the… off things. What’s planned?”

Nell brought out a brochure.

“We came up two days ago, stayed in the Stagecoach pub till Pat got here. Had time to look at what they offer, but to be honest, I think we can do our own thing as well”

Pat was nodding.

“Sue’s done us a bundle, with a few courses thrown in, including on the ski slope. Rest of the time it will be the same old same old for us. Then again, I think some of you already know your way around. I would like to do a group walk up to the Snowdon summit, on the Pyg Track”

“Not Crib Goch, then?”

“No. You want them to come back again, don’t you? And girls: Debbie and I have one trip to do on our own, if you don’t mind. Tonight, though, it’s the Bryn, and let them burn some energy off”

The Bryn it was, and once more it felt like coming home. Pat was straight to the bar to order a pint for the woolly-hatted shepherd in the other room, who looked up in surprise as it was placed before him, then grinned in delight as he spotted my friend. The food was as good as ever, the beer as tasty, and I even got a nod of recognition, and perhaps thanks, from a certain miserable sod with a ginger ponytail, who was sitting in his usual place as far from anyone else as he could manage. That reminded me to ask about any music that might be on down Bethesda.

So many memories were tied up there, and three days later I did my best to help ease one of them, as Pat and I snuggled up together in our bags as the light faded on Foel Grach, and she wept into my fleece.

“Debbie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Those girls. Thank you. It helps me a lot, making better memories. I just hope you can do the same one day”

CHAPTER 50
There was an inquest, of course, and by that I mean the one in Heidi’s office. Paul dropped me a word after we had returned from the mountains, and I was relieved to hear that two women I had grown to feel a deep affection for were out of the firing line. It wouldn’t be the last time we lost a girl, by far, but at least that time we had someone to blame, blame properly, rather than a family member.

Enough on that subject. Old wounds still hurt, hurt even more, when they are opened again.

I found myself distracted from those worries in a variety of ways, one of which was the process of watching Alicia’s back as she met with her father, as Paul, who was showing himself to be a real diamond, spent a few days with an eye on the family home. He was quietly positive when we spoke about it.

“Furniture van, Debbie. Looks like she is moving out, but she’s doing her best to strip the place of every stick of furniture. Wouldn’t be surprised if she takes all the light bulbs before the prawn curtains game”

“Sorry, mate. The what?”

“Ah, old trick. Tenant moves out, bad relationship with landlord, that sort of thing. Old food dumped behind radiators, prawns sewn into the hem of the curtains. Kind of lingers, the smell”

“Shit! I always did wonder about straights! Anyway, so it does look like her father is on the, um, other sort of straight, and narrow?”

He gave me a level stare, together with a soft smile.

“I will wait and see, Debbie. Early days, yes?”

I took his point, and watched as a father met his child anew over several months, each time seeming to see his compass needle swing further away from ‘son’, past ‘child’ and closer to ‘daughter’. In the end, it was the first of my real successes. Alicia stayed with me until she finished her school years, but it was with her father’s agreement. I never spoke to him, never showed out, never allowed him to see the House or know where it was, but when she passed three A-levels with more than adequate grades, she came home to us with a massive bouquet of flowers. There was a card:

Thank you for giving my daughter the safe place she needed, and the time I needed to learn to love her all over again.

We celebrated that day as a household, and where else but in the Smugglers? I was surprised to find Marlene a little out of sorts when we arrived, even though she had done their usual favour of sorting us all out a private-ish corner.

“What’s up, mate?”

“Up? Same old shit, Debbie. Same old shit”

“Which is?”

“Ah, darling, the reason Marlene has so many fucking cameras outside. Kickings getting a bit out of hand. Someone is having open season on our little den of depravity, as well as a few other pink pubs and clubs, and it is getting painful. How are you getting home?”

“Um, taxis. Few too many for the van, and I am drinking tonight”

“Well, don’t go outside looking for a taxi. Wait in here, wait for it to arrive, and fucking wait for the all clear, OK?”

I was about to say something stupid, either that it couldn’t be that bad, or that I was a real biker chick hard case, but something in Marlene’s eyes took that thought away at the knees. If the Resident Bitch was worried, then perhaps I should be too. I ended up far more sober than I had intended to be, but we all got home safely, and that was the important thing. I had noticed a few of the bears lingering by the doors all night, and I could only assume they were doing a reverse doorman thing, seeing patrons safely off the premises rather than filtering those arriving.

Marlene was clearly worried.

We arrived home without incident, and I put it away in the furthest recesses of my mind, because the next day, I had a message via Sparky from one of the homeless shelters. I made the usual call, and later that afternoon Nita had another guest for me, a very tall sort-of-girl with collar-length hair, in a skirt and Adidas trainers.

“How are you doing for room, Debbie?”

“Getting a bit full, mate. What’s the score?”

“This is Gemma. Dad is one of those with a narrow focus on life. Gemma is on… Gemma was on a catering course until things blew up”

I turned to the young person sat before me, and winced inwardly at her complete lack of femininity. At least, I hoped the wince was internal.

“Hiya, Gemma. What has Nita told you about us? About this place, that is?”

She looked more than a little worried, which was a reaction I had grown rather accustomed to. Her voice turned out to be a light tenor, almost in contralto range, so at least she had one fewer problem than she might have been handed by the shit fairy.

“Mrs Harris here, she says this is a halfway shelter sort of place”

I gave Nita a quick nod of recognition, then smiled at the newcomer.

“In a way, yes. We look after people as long as they need. Some find their own way back to the outside, and I don’t mean a jailbreak. Has she said what sort of people we look after?”

She looked down at her feet, and I understood that despite her height she was actually almost cripplingly shy.

“Yes. People… Girls like me”

“Yup. And nobody else. We have some rules here about men, and we have them for some very good reasons. There are some regular visitors, but they are special ones. A doctor, a police liaison officer, plus some of my personal friends. People I really trust. You okay with that?”

The slightest of nods, and I turned my head towards the kitchen.

“That kitchen works as an airlock, and both doors there are very secure. My first question is a simple one: tea, coffee or hot chocolate?”

“Could I have a coffee, please, Miss?”

I gave a signal to Nita, who grinned back at me.

“Yes, I do know where everything is! Want me to do you a cuppa while I’m at it?”

“Aye, please. Tea for me”

She rose to set the kettle going, and I turned back to Gemma.

“Second question is another easy one. While you tell me what’s gone on, could you call me Debbie? Feels a bit like being a schoolteacher, hearing ‘Miss’, and that’s from someone who never really went to school”

“Okay, Debbie. What do you mean by ‘gone on’?”

“Gemma, nobody rocks up here who hasn’t had or got some sort of issue. I like to know where I stand, that’s all. And if it is anything I can help with”

“Um. I don’t know if you can”

“Shall we talk about it first? Why are you homeless, for starters?”

She gave a deep sigh, just as Nita returned with a tray of mugs. Gemma took hers, settling back into her place on the settee with the mug grasped in both hands in front of her face. Same old tricks.

“You say girls like me?”

“Yes indeed. Not confused boys, not adults, or at least not much into adulthood. I have a couple who are at university at the moment, but they come back home between terms. I am hoping they’ll move out soon”

Gemma started, and I found myself laughing.

“No, not like that! Making their own lives, not having to hide away, that’s how I meant it. Most of my girls go to a local school, and one has a job close by. If you stay, you’ll meet them. So: ‘why are you homeless’ sounds rude. Could you tell me why you need a home?”

“Um. It’s my parents. They kicked me out. Said I was old enough to be a pervert on my own”

She sighed, taking a sip of her drink in an obvious attempt to gain time to find her focus again.

“Look, it’s why I went to college. Always known what I am, isn’t it, and I tried telling Mam when I was little, and she just gave me a hiding. I was about eleven. Did my GCSEs, and I’m not someone who does well at school, and Dad’s not someone who… Students are a waste of time and space, should be out doing a proper job, that sort of thing. So I managed to con him, get out of is sight. Had dreams, didn’t I?”

She paused again, her hand trembling as she raised her mug once more.

“I managed to con him properly, though. He was lining me up to do labouring work, for a mate of his, and I wanted… I got him watching some of those Gordon Whatshisface ‘Kitchen Hell’ programmes, let him believe I was going to be all macho, all sweary, so he let me get registered at Newport Tech. I would go there, let people see me, the real me, and they would all be other girls, and everything would be rosy!”

I was watching her carefully, and before the mug was falling properly I was beside her, taking it from her failing grasp and setting it back on the tray. I settled myself beside her and gave her hand a squeeze.

“Go on, Gemma. If you can. Safe space here, yes?”

She took some deep breaths, clearly to drive back a sob, then began again.

“I let too many people see me, and it got nasty. Lots of tripping, doors opening in my face. I worked out it was best to stay away from boiling water. Then it got really nasty. Somebody followed me home, found out my address, whatever, and we started finding notes through the door. ‘Your Graham’s a sissy fairy queer, calls himself Gemma’ and the rest”

She barked out a mirthless laugh.

“Not as polite as that, was it? So Dad goes up to my room, rips it apart, finds the little bits I’s hidden, and stuffs them all in a rucksack, but first he gives me a backhander. Throws my coat at me, tells me to get in the car and throws the rucksack on the back seat. Nothing in it but those bits. Drives me all the way to Cardiff, stops outside a pub and says ‘You’ll find your new family in there. Don’t fucking come back’, then drives off”

I squeezed her hand, as I had done with so many other girls.

“What did you do then?”

“It was a real scary place, big men in leathers having a smoke outside the door, so I walked away sharpish. Someone found me sitting in a doorway, about midnight it was, and they knew a shelter, and the rest, well. You know all that”

I patted her knee; sod personal space with someone in such pain.

“Where was the pub, Gemma?”

She looked across at me, eyes damp.

“Can I just say how lovely it is when you use my name like that?”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but just not used to hearing it yet. Pub was in the city; Smugglers or something like that”

Nita barked out a laugh, and Gemma looked confused, so I explained.

“Girl, if you had only bloody realised! That place is run by a friend of ours. If you had just gone straight in, hell, you would have been here earlier. The other girls here love it, and it is where we usually have our Christmas. If you stay, I’ll introduce you. Now, what do you think? This place your sort of place? Most of the other girls will be home soon, so it would help to know before we introduce you”

Every single use of the g-word had brought a twitch, and she nodded slowly.

“Would they accept me?”

“Did you miss the words ‘girls like you’, Gemma? Yes they will, unless you have some personal habits you haven’t told us about yet. Like being fond of rap and stuff”

She sat up a little straighter, her smile emerging at last.

“How many?”

“Oh, depending on plans Kim might have, we’ll probably be about a dozen, all told. Crowds bother you?”

“Not at all, not if they are what you tell me. Just wondering if you are cooking tonight”

“Well, yes. It was going to be a chilli. Would normally be Kim doing the clever stuff, but if she’s out I will be head chef”

“Can I see what you have in the kitchen?”

I raised my eyebrows, my surprise not entirely faked. Her smile grew broader and far more genuine.

“Which of us is the trained chef here?”

Nita rose at that, waving me into the kitchen with her and shutting the door.

“Done it again, love, haven’t you? Your mate at the shelter, he said she hadn’t been found by chasers yet, but she probably wouldn’t have stayed safe long. I’m done here; I’ll sort paperwork out over the next week, if that’s OK. Say farewell to her for me”

A hug, and Nita was gone. I opened the inside door again and called Gemma in for a rummage through the cupboards, which she carried out efficiently, with a number of muttered comments about freshness and brand labels.

“You have enough here for your meal, and I can do you a chilli if you can get me some more bits. Pudding, as well. STP okay?”

“What?”

“Sticky toffee pudding. Just need a bit more flour, and some pineapple”

“Why pineapple?”

“Goes in the chilli. Trust me. Oh, and at least three tubes of tomato puree. And we can manage with tinned custard just this once”

The confidence was there in force, almost certainly drawn from being in a role she understood and felt comfortable in. The first of the girls started to arrive as we sorted out the ingredients for the chilli, and after some rapid instructions, Emma and Rachel were sent off to the Co-Op for the extras.

I felt guilty, in the end, as I was politely shown the door by our newest girl, while two of the others volunteered their help, and Gemma clearly knew her place, which was where she was mixing, slicing stirring and the rest, so different in personality from the figure Nita had delivered.

We ended up at the big table in the other house, and the stew was a revelation for something so mundane, the odd addition of pineapple chunks, as well as instant coffee, of all things, making a wonderful change to the flavour. We had it with pitta bread for mopping up, Gemma muttering about the necessity of baking her own next time, but it was the dessert course that brought silence, until a slightly miffed Kim appeared. I waved her to take a seat, indicating the cook responsible.

“Kim, this is Gemma. Gemma was on a catering course at tech college. Kim is a cook at a local café. Kim, she’s done us a pudding as well”

That girl did a little bit of obvious mental juggling, clearly a little upset at losing her status as House chef, but a couple of spoonfuls into the meal, her face changed.

“This is bloody good, Gemma! Whose idea was the pineapple?”

“Um, mine. The coffee was something I read online. Bitterness takes some of the sugary taste of the pineapple away. Pud’s just a standard STP”

Everyone except Kim was on the dessert by then, and it was Tricia who managed to get a comment out.

“JUST a standard pudding, she says!”

I didn’t miss the twitch of gratitude from Gemma.

“What do you specialise in, Gemma? I mean, Nana here can cook okay, and Kim’s really good”

I looked across the table at Tricia.

“Where did ‘Nana’ come from?”

A hint of a blush came back with her smile.

“Seems to fit, yeah? Anyway, Gem, cook for us any time, et cetera, but what do you really like doing? Party piece thingy?”

“Um, baking. Pastries, to be exact. I can do cakes and stuff, and that STP is a sort of sponge cake really, but I like making pastries. Choux, filo, flaky, that sort of thing”

The conversation got more involved, Kim for once staying silent as she hoovered up her own pudding, and Gemma answered others about her history. When she mentioned being dumped outside Marlene’s place, I was glad we had warned her beforehand, because the resulting burst of communal laughter was raucous in the extreme.

“Yeah, Nana told me. Would have saved me a load of crap, and given me a warmer night, wouldn’t it?”

Nicky was nodding.

“A few of us know about cold nights, Gem. What you want to do now? Go back to college?”

A firm shake of the head.

“No. Can’t do that, not safe, is it? After what they did. Anyway, I think I learned enough there. And it’s in Newport, which would mean… Which would mean I might run into Dad again. Might not be healthy”

She looked over at Kim.

“You work in a café? Might they need someone there, baking, puddings and that?”

Kim looked a little embarrassed.

“I don’t know, Gemma. Not my place, and I don’t know if it would have enough trade to cover another staff member. I can ask Ruth, though, if that’s okay with you?”

“Please”

I left the girls to their introductions and plotting, as well as their discussion about whose turn it would be to load the dishwasher, and settled myself into an armchair with my headphones, a fresh mug of tea, a new Steeleye CD and the onset of a real case of nerves.

I left my idea to ferment for a fortnight, as Gemma started to demonstrate exactly how good a pastry chef she was, and that was a superb one. Kim actually outdid her on the savoury front, but the newer girl left my sweet tooth demanding more and more examples of her work. That fortnight left me twitching with nerves, but the idea had been a good one. I just needed to find the courage to carry it out.

Sixteen days after Gemma’s arrival, I set the bike onto its centre stand in one of the parking bays in Crwys Road, disc lock on and my heavy chain threaded through the back wheel and over the saddle. I stood by the bike for more than a few minutes as I worked my courage up, then strode across the road to the shop door. There was a little bell, which rang as I walked in, and I simply stood three feet away from the counter as I pulled off my helmet.

“Hello, Frank”

CHAPTER 51
He looked up from his till, mouth open slightly, and I could see him trying to make sense of what was in front of him. After a couple of seconds, he shook himself and offered up a slightly puzzled smile.

“Debbie?”

I tried not to grimace, keeping my own smile as genuine as I could manage.

“How are you keeping?”

“Fine… how…”

He paused once more.

“How did you know this was my place? I don’t really believe in magic coincidences”

“Called at your own place, your old place, that is. Saw it was closed, asked in the little convenience shop. He told me where you’d gone”

He looked down for another couple of seconds, checking his till drawer was shut properly, before once more raising his eyes, looking at me in a far more direct manner.

Debbie, please don’t think I am being rude”

“You were never, ever rude, Frank. Far from it”

“It’s going to sound like it, though. Why are you here? Now?”

I started to shrug, and he caught himself.

“No. Never rude, isn’t it? Hang on a minute, please”

He came round from the end of the counter and went to the shop door, which he locked, turning round the little sign to read ‘Closed’. I got a more natural smile then, as he admitted that it wasn’t exactly a busy day, and he wouldn’t lose much trade by closing early.

“Come into the kitchen, woman. Warmer in there, and I’ll do you a cuppa, if you like”

He showed me to the back of the shop, where he clearly did his baking. There was a little table with a couple of wooden chairs beside it, and as he filled the kettle I settled myself into the seat nearer the door.

“How do you take it now? Still white without?”

“You remember”

Another pause. Still looking away from me, he started speaking once more.

“Never forgotten, have I? Never forgotten you. Never stopped asking myself what on Earth I did wrong that night. Thought it was going so well, and…”

He turned around, passing me a mug of tea, a small chip out of the rim.

“Have to take us as you find us, Debbie. Cheap and cheerful here, we are. I will leave that subject, for now, aye? But I still have to ask: why this afternoon, after so many years?”

I blew across the top of the mug, trying to delay my words, but I had no real alternative.

“Frank, there is an awful lot of my background you don’t know. Lot of it isn’t nice, okay? One day… Anyway, I have a real reason to be here, and this time it isn’t about me. I am doing two jobs now”

“Still driving for old Bert Fratelli?”

“Yes, still doing the wagons. To be honest, though, I am looking towards dropping out of that game. Getting older, now. One of my girls called me ‘Nana’ the other day”

“You got married in the end, then? How many do you have?”

I shook my head, my smile coming more and more easily as the man I remembered so well did his best.

“Me? Not a bloody chance, mate! No; I foster. Girls only, ones off the streets, runaways, that sort of thing”

“Decent woman, you are, doing that. I always knew that, though, decent woman, I mean. Any of them give you any problems?”

I have no idea why, but a dam suddenly broke, and as my tears fell he moved round the table, hesitantly reaching out to hold me as everything about Andrea, and the girls in Splott, and all the other shit seized my mind with filthy fingers.

He didn’t push it, though, and when I found my self-control once again, he simply shuffled his chair back around the table.

“Want to talk?”

I shook my head, but not sharply enough to offend, or at least I hoped not.

“I lost a girl the other day. Overdose, body found in a skip by a… by a friend of a friend. Lots of crap flying around the social services about her, but she was with me, so it was my slip”

“Are the SS saying that?”

“Not really”

“How long did you have her?”

“Three days or so. Skipped out one night with our telly”

“Not your fault, then. This tied in with why you are here?”

I nodded. Careful how you put this, Debbie Petrie Wells.

“Got a new girl in, was on a catering course over in Newport. Kicked out by her Dad, dumped in the middle of Cardiff. Nice kid. She’s a pastry chef. Done us some meals already, and she’s okay at the mains, really good at the puds, and amazing at the fiddly stuff. Found out what my oven’s for, I have”

“Ah. And you thought you’d see if I could use her?”

“Yeah. To be honest. With her dad, she can’t really go back where she came from”

“Well, I feel you might not be being completely honest just now, but why not? Where is she, outside?”

“She’s at the House. Not really a biker”

“Want to give her a shout, then?”

“You sure?”

“Not taking someone on without some idea of what they can do, am I?”

“Shit. Hadn’t really thought this through, had I?”

“Obviously not”

I rang the Grove and got Ruth.

“Hiya; Kim with you?”

“Hang on, love. Kim! For you. Debbie”

There was a rustle as the phone was passed across, then Kim’s voice.

“What’s up, Nana?”

“Don’t you bloody start! Can you spare five minutes?”

“You okay for a few, Ruth? Yeah, she’s nodding. What do you need?”

“I have a possible job for Gemma, love, but she needs to come over to Cathays for a bit of a demo. Can you get her into a cab to Crwys Road… By the Methodist place would be easy to find. I’ll sort out the fare when she gets here. Can you let me know if she feels safe doing that; if not, try and find a lid to fit her, and I’ll pop back and collect”

“Will do. She need anything with her?”

“Just her patisserie skills, tell her, and anything special she’s got in the larder that would help”

Five minutes later, Kim gave me the confirmation that a nervous girl was on her way, and I went out a short while later to pay a slightly unpleasant taxi driver and lead mu charge to the shop. Frank unlocked the door to let us in, and I saw his eyes widen as he took in Gemma’s height and bulk.

“Ah. I see. This home of yours, Deb: little selective in the girls you take in?”

Gemma turned on her heel, heading for the door again, and I grabbed her arm as Frank called after us.

“No, love! I didn’t mean it like that! Just, I see now why Deb is looking for a favour. Now, please come back with us. I need you to show me what you are best at”

His choice of words jumped out at me. Not ‘See if you can bake’, but ‘See what you do best’, with the implication that he accepted she was already competent. I started to relax again, and as they went into a long and far too detailed account of pastry-making, I zoned out, until Gemma called my name.

“You are on kettle duty, Nana!”

“Oh bollocks, not you as well! Frank, one titter and you are toast”

He grinned.

“I am actually hoping for some Danish pastries, Debbie. Gemma here sounds as if she knows what she is talking about, which hopefully means she knows what she’s doing. I hate to say this, but if you want to shoot off home, I can see her into a cab later. Don’t need to know the address for that, she can direct the driver”

Another grin.

“Going to take a flyer here. Do a load of stuff for tomorrow, see how it goes. Road test, in essence. You got a curfew?”

“Not really, but not too late, please”

I knew I could trust him, but, well, Andrea’s loss was still smacking me in the chops on a regular basis, so while I left them to it, I didn’t stop worrying, surrounded by the other girls, until Kim brought her back from Ruth’s.

“How did it go, Gemma?”

She gave us all the soppiest of grins.

“You are speaking to a professional patissière! Got a box of spare stuff in the kitchen for you to try, but not many, so we’ll have to cut them all in half. And there’s a bus stop not far from the shop, as well”

Maisie looked puzzled.

“Bus stop?”

“Yeah. I start my job in two days’ time; Frank wants to see how the stuff sells first, and it means I can get to and from work on my own. Got a job!”

She was mobbed by the others, and of course we had to try out her samples, and they were excellent indeed. Two days later, and she was off to work, this time in some chef’s whites that Rachel and Emma had bought for her, and I found my mood lifting at last. I made a point, on my next day off from the wagons, of stopping by the shop, and to my surprise, the place was almost full. Frank waved to me as I entered, and ushered me straight into the kitchen area, where my girl was putting a tray of somethings or other into one of the big ovens.

“Hiya, Gem! How is it going?”

The happiest of smiles lit up her face, and she pointed to the front of the shop.

“That man is a genius! Did my first set of stuff for him, and next thing I know it’s outside on the little table with a sign saying ‘free samples’. Next thing after that, well, look at the queue!”

I lowered my voice.

“Any problems? Anyone been an arsehole?”

She gave a reluctant nod.

“Yeah, a couple. Frank just threw them out, couple of real idiots. Some others, he just says to them, ‘This is the woman that’s made what you are queuing up to buy, so if you like what she does, be nice to her’. Worked, as well. Look”

She pointed out a pile of cardboard sheets with the shop name printed on, which I realised were cardboard boxes, ready to assemble.

“Frank took some more samples out, down by the student hall, and we’ve got them coming in, and there’s the copshop as well, got a regular order from them. Really busy, we are”

Frank put his head round the corner.

“Got any of the cream horns ready yet? Been a bit of a rush on them”

He lowered his own voice, almost to a whisper.

“And can you sort out some paperwork for us, Debbie? Need to get her properly onto my PAYE records. Don’t care what name she’s officially under, because we will sort that when she hits eighteen”

His voice rose once more.

“Get with the programme, serf! I don’t pay you to gossip! Flaky pastry, now!”

I left her to her giggling, him to his teasing, and what seemed like an awful lot of customers to their treats.

Another one that I had got right. It would never balance my books, but it was helping. I found myself singing as I rode home, for the first time in ages.

CHAPTER 52
Heidi came over a week later, having spent some time digging out the necessary paperwork Frank had asked for. We settled down in the kitchen cum airlock with a cuppa and, purely by the slightest of random coincidences, a couple of Gemma’s treats

“Took some time with one of the family court judges, Debbie. He’s someone I’ve dealt with before, a bit more switched on than most of the others. This is good! Would it, by any chance, be some of Gemma’s work?”

I grinned and nodded.

“Debbie, you should have given me some of these before I went into His Honour’s chambers. Would have made things a lot more straightforward. Now, he was amenable to her staying here as a place of safety, and her father’s behaviour made that a no-brainer. Nice and easy it was, sorting her National Insurance stuff out. Year to go till her eighteenth, so no choice about the name on the firms, though”

She savoured another mouthful, then did that looking-at-her-cup thing, which always left me worried.

“Broached another issue with him, love. Kim. Can’t keep her hidden forever, and she has her own eighteenth next month, am I right?”

I just nodded, and she patted my arm in reassurance.

“Don’t worry. I explained about her own father’s behaviour, and I might just have mentioned that shiner the bastard gave you, and hinted about her own scars. Yes, I do know about the marks on her back. I need a chat with her, in private, but we have some odds and sods I can get started. If I send you an e-mail, can you print a form off for me? After some editing?”

“What does she need to do with the form?”

“Making assumptions, I am, but it is what is called a statutory declaration. She fills in her old name before you print it, along with the name she wants from then on, and once it’s printed you take it to any solicitor and pay them a fiver to witness her reading the form aloud, then signing it. When I say ‘any solicitor’, I will be giving you details of the one you will be using, if you get me. No gossiping that way”

Another mouthful almost sucked in appreciation, and then a smile of regret when she looked down at the plate to see the lack of any more pastries.

“I’ll sort out the rest of what Kim needs after her birthday, but for Gemma, I will need her working address, for two reasons. First is an obvious one, and that is our duty of care, as we will have to do a DBS check on her boss”

“DBS?”

“Disclosure and Barring Service. What the old Criminal Records is called now”

“Oh. And the second reason?”

“An obvious one, Debbie! I want to spend some money there. She is a bloody good pastry chef, is Gemma”

Heidi, as ever, was as good as her word, and when her mail arrived, I sat at our main dining table with Kim as she typed her details into the spaces on the electronic copy of the form.

“Debbie? Got a couple of questions before I do this, and that’s surname and middle name. I can pick my own, can’t I?”

“That’s what Heidi tells me, love”

“Then fuck Dad. I am not keeping his name, the bastard. Bamps’ name will do me, Banks. Kimberley Banks. Other one…”

She turned to me, looking slightly worried.

“Your friend, Deb. The lovely one. Scary one. Do you think she’d mind if…?”

“Kimberley Rose Banks sounds fine to me, girl, and Rosie will be flattered, believe me. Get it typed in, but don’t print it off yet. Take a few days to see how it feels before we get it sworn over properly, OK?”

“Thanks. Debbie?”

“Yup?”

“This is really real, isn’t it? Not something Dad can stop?”

“Not once you’re eighteen, love. Anyway, I think he values his health a bit too much to stick his nose where it isn’t wanted”

She nodded, closing down the laptop.

“Ill have to talk it through with Phil before I sign. Two of us now; share things, we do. Never believed I could find that sort of thing, did I?”

She laughed, and it was a happy sound.

“We’ll have to see how Cathy and Nell are getting on, whether it’s the dancing or the wall crawling that’s working best”

I shrugged.

“It’ll be the climbing, love. Ropes and that, stop the lads running away! Anyway, shall we see what Gem’s up to? You two can toss for supper duties”

We returned to our usual seats, to find Gemma glued to the television, which was showing some rugby highlights, some club match or other, not really my thing. I hadn’t actually been given much opportunity to engage in team sports as a child, although Dad had indulged, in his rare excursions into being a father rather than a shit.

“Gemma? Time to decide who’s cooking tonight”

“Un, could I just see the rest of this?”

A couple of heads turned, and their owners shuffled over to stare at the screen. Maisie’s gaze switched suddenly to Gemma.

“Gem?”

“Um?”

“It’s the big man, isn’t it?”

“Um?”

“Yes, I know there are a lot of big men there. The one wearing number eight, girl. For god’s sake, wipe your chin!. Bloody hell, we could make toast on her cheeks!”

I held up a hand, stopping it before it got out of hand.

“Maisie. Don’t push it too far, please”

That girl looked up at me sharply, and I saw a sudden flush of guilt in her eyes.

“Sorry, Nana”

I made a joke of it, to avoid it appearing as if I was pillorying her.

“How many of you sods are in on that?”

I got the laughter I needed, and Rachel and Emma both raised their hands, as much a double act as my student pair had become.

“It just sounds right, Debbie. But more like Snow White’s grandmother, yeah? Big teeth for people outside, not for us, though”

“Really? That how you see me?”

Tricia giggled.

“It’s how the kids at college see you, Miss Scary Biker, um, bitch!”

I shook my head, unable to hide my grin, memories of a train ride coming back, the point of my knife against some twat’s bollocks.

“Enough! Now, while Gemma watches her raw beef, we have sausages to go in the oven and potatoes to peel, boil and mash. Gemma’s had a full day’s work, anyway. Time for some weight to be pulled!”

“Debbie? I mean, Nana?”

“Yes, Kim?”

“I did a tray of chocolate sponge for Ruth, but there’s loads left, and it needs eating. Want me to pop round and get it?”

“You sure?”

“No problem. Gem?”

“Yeah?”

“You got time to do some custard? Need anything? Or should I just get a block of ice cream?”

“Custard would take a while, but…”

She drifted for a second, eyes on the screen, then laughed.

“No, not distracted by him, not really. Just thinking I could do some custard tarts for work. Not done them before, not there, anyway. Ice cream would be good”

She giggled herself.

“And saying that, have you seen his bum in those shorts?”

I waited until the throng had moved to the kitchen to argue about odd details of the proposed meal, and then asked her, as gently as I could manage, if she was all right.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s a big thing, love, admitting who you are. Straight girl, isn’t it?”

She sat silent for a moment, before replying in the smallest of voices.

“Dad would kill me”

“Your dad isn’t here, love. The rest of us, you think we have a problem?”

“You don’t think they think I’m odd? I mean, I’m never going to be pretty, am I?”

“Does that really matter?”

She looked at me in silence for what seemed like ages, before a slightly uncertain smile came out from hiding.

“Yes. Yes it does. But at the same time, it doesn’t, not really. You are letting be me, and Frank, well, yeah. He…”

She paused once more, clearly trying to find the right way to express what she needed to get out.

“It’s the customers, Debbie. I wanted to hide in the kitchen, just do the baking and stuff, stay out of sight, stay safe, and Franks says ‘No, you talk to our customers, woman’, and that was a big word, that: ‘Our customers’, not his, and like I said he put some of them back outside and told them not to come back, but the rest, he says “If you liked the cakes, why not tell the woman who made them?’, and there were a couple who looked at me funny, but they came back”

She took a quick look at the television, only to see her programme had finished, and resumed speaking while her eyes stayed on the screen.

“It’s already got to where they come in to ask if we have particular things ready. Come in to ask ME if I can do them particular things. Me, Debbie. I’ just hope I can hang onto that, when Dad finds out”

“Are you in contact?”

“No. Wouldn’t be safe for the others, would it?”

A silent prayer of gratitude. I rose to give a hand in the kitchen, and as I stood, she spoke again.

“Debbie?”

“Yes, love?”

“What happened between you and Frank?”

“What has he said about me?”

“Nothing. He just says you are an old friend, but I’m not stupid, not blind”

A couple of deep breaths first.

“Gemma, let’s just say that bad things happened, they happened a long time ago, but it wasn’t anything that involved Frank. Some of us have our own issues, okay? Now, got to get the meal done, and the others will be back, and we can test out the competition in the shape of Kim’s chocolate sponge. Want a drink bringing?”

“Um, got one of those cans left in the fridge?”

“I think we have. Oh: just a thought, but we all have a weekend off coming up. I need to introduce you to someone, and if you can bring a bribe or two with you, it would be good”

I headed off into the kitchen, uncanned worms flailing around in my head. Stay away from that shop for a while, Debbie Petrie Wells.

My plan was a simple one, and it involved a pub we all knew well. I booked a couple of large cabs, and as we pulled up outside the Smugglers, I saw Gemma’s eyes widen in recognition, so I gave her my happiest grin.

“Remember this place, love? Going to show you why we like it!”

I went to pay off both cabs, and Gemma pushed my hand down.

“Wage earner I am now! My treat”

“You sure?”

“Not buying all the drinks, though, even if they are all going to be soft ones”

I led her past a couple of leather bears smoking outside the front door, and she giggled, which brought a sharp look from one of them, so I smiled at him.

“Girl’s first time here, mate. She got frightened last time, seeing all the big scary men standing outside”

His friend started laughing, while he made a show of looking all round.

“Just show me where they all are, Debbie! I call shotgun on the first two!”

I towed a tall, snorting girl inside, and Marlene was in full flow as soon as she spotted me.

“Fucking hell, it’s Nana Deb! Where’ve you left Little Red Riding Hood?”

On an instinct, I looked at Kim, who had the broadest of all the smirks.

“I shall have words with you later, Miss B! Marlene, this is Gemma. Gemma has something to show you”

“Sorry, darling, but Marlene does NOT swing that way! No girlies will ever be showing me their thing!”

I shook my head, and turned to Gemma once more.

“Ignore her. She only does it for effect”

“Marlene does everything for effect, and fucking effective is what it is! What’s in the box, then?”

Gemma passed her bribe across the bar, and Marlene snorted as she opened it.

“Oh, you cheeky cow! Marlene’s dream life in cake form! I think I might like this one, Debbie, just not in that way, of course”

“You’ve lost me. I have no idea what she packed for you”

“Then have a look! A nice fruity tart with a couple of creamy horns!”

I looked at an extremely red-faced girl.

“Tell me that wasn’t your idea!”

“Um, Kim suggested it”

Marlene reached across the bar to take her hand.

“Darling, it was perfection! Now, I am going to sort you a round of drinks, so tell me what you all want, and then Marlene will be sucking up some cream after a nibble”

I left the others to grab the drinks while I pushed some tables together, and when Kim joined me, she was shaking her head.

“I really don’t know how she does it, Debbie. I think I’ve finally hit her with something to shut her up, and she just makes the joke even filthier! I am in bloody awe of her”

She grabbed our drinks from the tray, passed me mine, and changed the subject.

“Had a quick word with Marlene as well, and I will be having my double celebration here in a fortnight and a bit. New name, no longer a kid, and safe from that fucker forever! Oh, and I know we’re all on coke, but I can hear the disco starting up, and I intend to do some random twisting and twitching! Rest of you up for a dance, cause if you are you’ll have to do it with your own partners, as mine has just come in the door. Hiya, Phil!”

Just another abnormal night at the Smugglers. Once all the girls, including Gemma. were off to the disco, Marlene slumped down into one of their vacated seats.

“You come by taxi tonight, Debbie, or drove?”

“Taxi tonight. Takes too long fitting all the seats in the van just for one night”

“Good. I warned you about the kickings, and they are getting worse. One of my boys got raped last week. Gang of men, four or five of them”

That came far to close to my own history to be shrugged off.

“What are you suggesting, Marlene?”

“Same was we’ve done before, and get you a couple of cabs booked from here to pick you up at the door. If you had been in the van, I was going to sort you out an escort”

“How’s the lad who was, you know?”

“Not good, love. Okay physically, that is, just fucked his nerves up. Not seen him since. The new girl god my flat number? If not, here’s a card for her”

She was off to the bar, and I could almost smell her worry. I had a quick vision of Carl getting glammed up so that the suspected gang would pick on him, but it was far too silly a notion. In the end, I got the girls home at a reasonable time, once I had dropped Phil and Kim off far enough from home for our address to be hidden but close enough for it to be safe for Kim, while also being far enough from anywhere ‘pink’ to avoid said gangs.

Bastards. They didn’t stop us all returning for Kim’s eighteenth birthday, though, which was the stuff that both memories and gaps in them are made. Thank god I had taken some days off; I wasn’t wrecked, but I needed plenty of time to help Kim cope with the results of her own exploration of her liver’s limits.

All I need say is that she was rather green.

Life got a little busy them, as four of my girls were working hard (they claimed) for their A-levels, two for their O-levels and two more up their eyeballs in their degree courses. I had shuffled rooms around, adding in another two sets of bunks with Sparky’s help, and in the mean time I doing my best to keep am eye on Alicia’s meetings with her father. It was far from easy, but Paul was a diamond in supporting us, as he always had been. We weren’t exactly in a millpond of tranquillity, but at least what waves we encountered were small ones.

That changed just as the school exams were about to get under way, when Kin gave me a ring.

“Debbie, got someone I need to bring round. Girl’s got real problems”

“Where are you, love?”

“The Great Western, the Spoons place by the Central Station. Sparky got the word, gave me a shout”

“They not ask your age?”

“Nope, but then I am eighteen now. They are starting to get twitchy, though I told them I was waiting for my Nana to collect me, young girl, on mean streets, etc. If you can park at the side door, in the loading bay on Saunders Road? Don’t want to be too visible when we come out”

“What the hell is going on, Kim?”

“Tell you after. Quick as you can, be good, but don’t get pulled by a copper”

I got moving as soon as I could, double-parking against an empty car just long enough to pop the side door as Kim scurried across the pavement with a younger girl pushed along in front. Once in, Kim slammed the door and urged me to drive off immediately. I wasn’t feeling happy about things at all by then, and once we were parked up by the House, I kept both of them in the airlock until I could find out what was going on. Kim sighed, unhappily, then turned to the girl, who looked to be about twelve or thirteen.

“Debbie here runs this place, love. It’s as safe as she can make it. Nobody gets in unless we let them, okay? Deb?”

“Yes, love?”

“This is Charlotte. Charlie”

I wrestled down my automatic twitch.

“Hello, Charlie. What do you need from us?”

She was shaking like a flag in a gale.

“I… I got raped. And there’s some other men who want to do it as well”

CHAPTER 53
I managed to wrestle down the words that all but shot out of my mouth, because there was so little space between the words ‘Charlie’ and ‘rape’.

“Kim?”

“Yes, Nana?”

Shit. That was getting too well established. Not now, though.

“Can you kick everyone out of one of the sitting rooms. Don’t care which one, but I want some privacy, okay? Ask them nicely”

“Will do. Back one will be best, I think. Back in a sec”

I turned to the new girl, who was in a minidress and not much else, dark hair almost to her shoulders and some cuts on her knees and forearms.

“Have you eaten recently?”

She shook her head.

“Kim? Kim got me some crisps; said she would have bought me a meal, but she wanted me safe first, is what she said”

“Then we can ask her to do us something while we talk, then. Here she is back, anyway. They all sorted, love?”

“Yeah. Nicky suggested they use the back room; thought Charlie here might be hungry. Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“Some of us spent tome time sleeping rough, so we understand. Did some shepherd’s pie yesterday, should be plenty left, if you’d like. Be nuked, though, but I can add some instant gravy”

“Would be great. Thanks”

“Back in a few then. Debbie here will look after you, okay? Safe place here, really safe, and they can’t get in. Settle down and it’ll be ready in about five minutes”

Kim’s head disappeared behind the fridge door as I walked into my original front room, settling Charlie into one of the armchairs.

“You can tell me whatever you need to, kid. As Kim said, this is a safe place. People don’t get in unless we let them. Feel up to talking? How old are you, anyway?”

“I’m thirteen, Miss”

“No ‘Miss’, here, Charlie. I’m Debbie, no more, no less. Unless you listen to the sods that are calling me ‘Nana’, that is”

“Can I think about it for now?”

“Of course. You feel up to telling me what has been going on?”

“You’ll hate me”

“Why would we do that?”

“I’m a pervert, Dad said. Not a real girl, am I?”

“Charlie, it’s the same with every other person in here. Still all girls though, aren’t they?”

Her eyes opened wide, and for an instant I could see the small child behind the fear.

“Every one of them?”

“Yup. That’s what this place is for. You were spotted by a friend of ours, a really good man, and he gave Kim the word. What happened?”

Kim chose that moment to bring in a steaming bowl of lamb mince and mashed potato, and the child’s face lit up. Two mouthfuls in, and she stopped, pointing to Kim.

“Can she stay with us, while I talk?”

I nodded.

“Kim’s the sort of assistant warden, carer, gofer, whatever. I trust her absolutely”

The older girl reached out to pat Charlie’s forearm, which brought a wince.

“Same with me and Deb, yeah? I would have died without her, and that man she mentioned. Safe, isn’t it?”

A few more mouthfuls disappeared, and then she started speaking as she ate, the words coming in clumps.

“I was called something else, but I don’t want to hear that name. Always knew I was never a boy. Used to… When I got older, I used to borrow Mam’s clothes. Never easy getting the tights to shrink back, so I used to take the ones from the back of the drawer, put them back in the same place so they had time to shrink back down. They liked going out on the piss, they did, and I got some time, some ME time. They’re into rock and roll stuff, all stupid greasy hair and that. Holiday camp just into England, does these weekender things, and they never took me, did they? This is really nice, Kim”

“Kim works in a café near here, Charlie. Does it for money, so it should be nice. Your parents, then: they just cleared off and left you on your own? At thirteen?”

“Yeah. Think Dad always saw me as a problem, like a ball and chain thing. Didn’t mind, did I? Gave me a weekend, draw the curtains, practise my make-up, stuff I nicked off Mam. Have a couple of days as me. But I had to push it a bit. Went out for a walk, late at night, didn’t I?”

I felt a little shiver, but I managed to cover it up, just.

“If it’s too much, Charlie, you can leave it. Not pushing you, okay?”

She shook her head.

“Not stopping now. If I stop, I don’t finish. So anyway: I went out for a walk… And he had a big car, and he said he had a knife, and I recognised him from the papers, local councillor, and he hits, punches me, very hard, drags me over to some bushes, and when he drags my knickers down, he just grunts. ‘Where there’s a willy, there’s a way’, he says, his idea of some sort of fucking JOKE, and it hurt like hell, and when he finishes, he hits me really hard, right here on the side of the head, and I’m seeing stars, face down and I know I’m bleeding, and then he just pisses on my back, and I hear him, Ashley Evans, that’s his name, I hear him say ‘Ah, best way to get the spoodge out. Shit as well’. Then I hear the car start up, and he’s gone”

She held out the bowl to Kim, the pattern almost licked off.

“Sorry to be rude. Got any more?”

Kim smiled, and I could feel her own strain trying to break loose. Bastard.

“Got some sweet stuff, if you want. One of our friends is a really good baker”

“Please”

I asked the obvious question, and she smiled, in a way that was an extremely long way from being genuine.

“Got found by a dog walker, looking for somewhere to hide his little bag of turds. Called an ambulance, and that was where it all got worse”

Kim was back with a couple of Gemma’s specials, and they went so quickly I expected to see scorch marks on the plate.

“They treated me in hospital, and when I got home, Dad just went on and on about perverts and kicked me out of the house. Wasn’t the worst, though…”

That was probably the longest of all her pauses, and when she resumed speaking, she was almost whispering.

“When I was in hospital, two men came round. Big men, in suits. Said they were coppers, said they knew where I lived. All that stuff. Anyway, really worried me, and I wanted to tell Dad about them and then he still kicked me out, and I was all alone, no money apart from a tenner I had in the cheap handbag I had found in some fly-tipping stuff”

Another, shorter, pause, her eyes off in some other world of memory before she looked up again, another faint little smile in place.

“Used to find stuff dumped in field gates, parking places, that sort of thing. Bit of a clean-up, some superglue, almost good as new. Found some other sort of rubbish to burrow into, after he kicked me out, though; managed to sleep for a few days, then I’m looking at the money, and there’s Maccy D’s open. You ever been that hungry, Debbie?”

“I have, Charlie”

“Then you know what I mean. Making every bit last, licking your fingers after scraping everything off with your fingernails… Man comes up to me, says something about me looking cold, and…”

She finally broke, in as quiet a way as I could ever imagine.

“Said his name was Joe, and he had a wonky eye, all droopy, and if I had only known what a fucking CUNT he was, but he had somewhere to sleep, and it was warm, and I was there for a few days, and he tells me I’m pretty, and I’m just starting to think, you know, that he’s been nice to me, so maybe I should, you know, be nice… Nice back to him, and you know what I mean, and I knew what he would like, and I’d already been… and then I’m in the room, and I hear this voice, and it’s familiar, so I look down the stairs, and it’s only one of the men from the hospital, and he’s not just starting up the stairs, he’s unzipping his fucking FLIES, and I put the window out and dropped onto a flat roof, got onto the ground, and I ran and I bloody ran, and I slept in skips and shit, and is it really safe here? Really?”

The tears were in full flow now, and I caught her casting quick glances towards the back door.

“We really safe here? Really?”

Kim settled into the chair with her, squeezing in despite the lack of space, Charlie was still so small, and held her through a bout of violent shaking, and spoke as soothingly and calmly as I had ever heard from her.

“Safe, love. Really safe, yeah? Now, those cuts from getting out of the window?”

“Yeah, think so…”

“Well, here’s a suggestion. When Debbie found me, just like we have you, yeah? She brought me back here, she ran a hot bath, and she just let me soak for a while. You like that idea?”

“Please…”

Kim turned back to me, little twitches appearing around her mouth, and I saw that same hatred boiling there as I had seen when she had whipped her father with his own belt.

“Going to pop Into the other room, Debbie, have a chat with the rest. Do some moving around. Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“Going to sort put a proper bed for you, okay? Just need to know if you’d prefer being in on your own, or if having another girl with you would be better”

“Could I share with you, if you don’t mind?”

“Course you can, Charlie. Course you can. We’ll have a sort out, find you something to wear, nighty, jim-jams or something. You are not going out anywhere else tonight, okay? Safe here”

Kim led her out of the room to start a bath running and sort somewhere to sleep, and ten minutes later I had what I could only call a deputation of the other girls. Nicky and Maisie, in particular, looked incandescent with rage, while Alicia just looked stunned. I held my hands up to calm them as best I could.

“Yes, I know, and yes I agree, but this is someone I got warned off almost the first day I came down here. This isn’t someone that Rosie and her man can just happen to drop by, happen to visit, and there are coppers already involved. You know what I feel about coppers. So here is my word: we don’t tell anyone she is here unless we have to. No gossip at school, no comments about the man we know did it. Safety of all of you is my priority, okay? You all understand?”

I got a silent chorus of nods, just as Kim returned.

“Done some shuffling, so Alicia, you’re in with Nicky now, sorry, but Maisie, you got your own room for now. Charlie’s soaking, and Serena, sorry, but I stole one of your fizzy bath bombs. Gemma?”

“Um, yeah?”

“You’re the tallest here. You got a sloppy T-shirt, as girly-girl as you can manage? It would do for a nighty for Charlie”

“I’ll have a look. Is she going to be okay, Kim?”

She sighed.

“Don’t know yet, do I? Couldn’t… She wasn’t bleeding any more. Think that bit’s going to be okay, at least. Debbie?”

“Yes?”

“You think any of this is tied up with the kickings Marlene was talking about?”

“Don’t know, Kim. That’s all beating boys up, though. Not like this. Sodding hell, though: a whole flat set up for it? I need to have a word with Sparky, cause if they have something like that, there’ll be other girls being picked up”

Maisie was trembling now, and I couldn’t tell if it was from fear, hatred or memory.

“Could it be that bastard Mo, Deb??

I sighed.

“Not got a clue, love. Let’s just get this girl settled down, try and let her recover, and I will go and have a word with Sparky. I’ll think about speaking to Paul as well, but not sure on that bit yet. He’s a copper still. Now, I’m relying on you lot to do your best for your new little sister, so make me proud”

They did exactly that, exactly as I should have expected, and by Charlie’s fourth day with us, Rachel and Emma had brought home a couple of proper nighties, some pyjamas, a dressing gown and a pair of slippers, as the child slowly emerged from her shell.

It was only a fortnight later that Sparky passed the word about another victim, and I took in another terrified little rape victim.

She had met some of the same people as Charlie, but in her case it had taken over a week for her to escape. What on Earth was I going to be able to do that would sort any of this out?

Over a week in that room. Shit.

CHAPTER 54
To my surprise, Tiff wouldn’t talk to me when she first arrived. A small, huddled figure reeking of fear, she almost clung to Kim, who looked at me over the child’s shoulder with a little smile that clearly said “Leave me to deal with her”

“Tiff?”

“Yeah?”

“Going to take you out the back. Quieter there, just us girls, OK?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. That OK?”

“S’pose so… Is there a door?”

My guts clenched just then. Kim drew her to her feet, heading for the other house. She left a comment over her shoulder.

“Back in a few, Debbie”

They were gone for over forty minutes, as I fretted and fidgeted in the living room, picking up books that I couldn’t concentrate on enough to read. I had encountered some aggressive rejection from girls---Kim had been a prime example--- as well as nervousness and uncertainty, but this was the first time I had come up against terror. It shook me.

I had just succumbed to the urge to do something, anything, apart from sit and wait, moving into the kitchen to fill the kettle, when Kim reappeared, slumping down into an armchair with a call of “If you’re making a cuppa…”

I settled myself into the routine of brewing and pouring two cups, then took them through the door, settling myself down opposite her. She tried a sip, grimaced and set the cup aside.

“Too hot, but I already knew that”

“What’s going on with her, Kim?”

“Short version? She’s scared shitless, Debbie. Got a bit of her story out of her, but she’s been through an awful lot. Girls are showing her photo albums and stuff, happy times we’ve had. Us, here in the House, yeah? Stuff from that Plas y Brenin week and things. She has had a rough time, so if I get a bit jokey when I go through it, it’s just a bit of me coping my own way. Shit, I thought my Dad was bad!”

“Go on”

“Ah, Debbie… she’s almost fifteen. Actually came out as a girl to her parents nearly a year ago. She says her Mam was sort of OK, but her Dad was really accepting. Her Mam even took her out bloody shopping!”

“For clothes and that?”

“Yup. In a skirt, all that stuff we all dreamt of. Sounds great, doesn’t it? Even had her Dad buying her stuff”

She tried another sip of her tea, managing to swallow some. I sat and waited for her to find the next words.

“Yeah, sounded good. Then she realises he’s buying… The stuff he is getting for her is all underwear, or ‘sexy’ stuff. I mean, I got Nell into that dress for New Year, but that was for her, yeah? I really thought it would make her feel good about herself, and I still think I was right, that it did exactly that, made her feel good about herself”

“Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“Tiff. Talking about her, okay?”

“Yeah… Anyway, she realises her Dad’s getting a bit too interested, if you catch my meaning. He starts asking for little father-daughter dress-up evenings when her Mam’s out, and all I could think of was that phrase, ‘our little secret’, thing you read about what the paedos do, yeah?”

“Did she tell anyone?”

Her mouth really twisted just then, and once more I saw the girl who had told me so clearly where to go when I had first met her.

“Told her Mam, isn’t it? So she shouts out about the girl being a perve, asks her hasn’t she fucking done enough for her son? So much for fucking acceptance from the woman. Then Tiff gets booted out”

“Shit!”

“Yup. You know what I think? She went to her mother first because she thinks ‘mother love’, and so on, but I suspect that her pervy Dad was the one who pushed Mam that way”

She took a real slurp of her tea at that, spending a while swilling it around in her mouth.

“Bad taste, Deb. So she’s out on her ear, looking a bit glammed up because Dearest fucking Daddy selected her wardrobe. Manages to slip into a night club for a bit of a warm, before she gets kicked out when they realise she’s not buying any booze. Usual stuff, similar story to me, to Charlie, lots of our girls”

“Our girls?”

Kim fixed me with a flat stare of challenge.

“Yeah. I think so. Got a problem with that, punk?”

She couldn’t keep up the pose, and her earlier mood was too strong, distaste and anger pushing away the hint of a smirk.

“You did call me the assistant warden, or something! Anyway, as I was saying, just like Charlie. Ends up in Maccy D’s, last bit of cash, and someone drops into the seat opposite, says she looks cold”

I felt the chill start to spread down from my shoulders.

“Not…”

“Yes. Description is spot on. Charlie had to go out of the room for a bit, she was shaking so much. I thought she was going to throw up, Debbie. Now, I know you’ve probably got the right idea, but there is more, more that I need to tell”

“That sounds…”

“Ominous? Like really worrying? She was in that same room for a fucking week, Debbie, and it wasn’t just the arsehole with the wonky eye, but that one Charlie recognised as a copper. A week before she got out of the front door, when wonky eye was pissed one night. She is sort of OK, down there, but her mind, yeah? I am getting fed-up of looking at what men have done…”

The sound of heavy footsteps on stairs; the prayer that they would continue on to some other poor kid’s room. Charlie, my new friend, that is, wasn’t the only one feeling sick right then.

“So how is she now?”

Kim grinned suddenly, almost back to herself.

“One of the others is wrapped round her, and they’re cuddled up and talking about all sorts of stupid shit, telly, pop stars, bloody boy band crap. Seems to be working, at least a bit”

“Who’s the healer, love?”

“Charlie, believe it or not. Must be something about having met the same arseholes. Hell. Probably the wrong word, given, well”

She tried her tea again, and sighed on finding it cool enough to swig straight down.

“Thinking about when I came here, Debbie. I left the others to do a whip round, find some ‘jamas or a nighty that might fit, and then show her the bathroom. Let her wash those bastards off her skin. Then, if you don’t mind, I will go off and find Phil, and remind myself that not all men are twats. I think Charlie has her in hand, but the rest of us have let her know… The rest of us have explained what this place is, and who you are. There’s a pack of mince in the fridge, plus the makings of a Bolognese style tom sauce, so I thought you could get them all together and make a spaggy bol, get messy, have a laugh, just be normal for an evening. Let her see this place as a shelter and not a hide, like those birdwatching ones”

She rose, collecting both mugs to take to the kitchen, then stopped at the door, turning back to me.

“Debbie?”

“Yes, love?”

“What are you doing in the Summer? Holidays, all that? Thinking of going off to see Pat again?”

“I hadn’t really worked it out, but, well, yes. Why do you ask?”

“I had a little chat with Gemma a couple of weeks ago, and then these two girls… I don’t think either Charlie or Tiff are up to being outside with loads of strangers about, especially men. We’ve got time to get them settled here, used to this place, but not to get them comfortable anywhere else. Gemma wants to stay in work; says Frank has a downer on holidays for some reason. She’ll be here in the evenings, and if you like, I can stay here as well. Ruth gets a chance at a holiday with her boy that way”

She grinned.

“Not all work for me, though. Phil and me, we’re going to look for somewhere for him to live near Uni, somewhere big enough for…”

She laughed, and it was an absolutely happy sound.

“Not doing no more shagging in a single bed, if I can help it!”

I went to her, wrapping her as tightly as I could without dislodging the mugs she still held.

“Pat will miss you, love”

“She’ll understand, love, and I mean that word, Debbie. How I was, when, you know, when you took me in, warmed me up, you and Sparky and Rosie and the rest, it’s what you told me about your Mam and Dad, yeah? I’ve got obs I can never pay back, but that’s not a problem, cause I can do it that paying forward way. Tell Pat that I miss her, and I will be back up there next year, or the year after, okay?”

She broke the hug gently, placing the mugs onto the work top.

“Going to get out now, before I have to do my eyes again. One of the others will come through to tell you when it’s safe. And give Gemma a ring, see if she can bring something nice back, my treat. Don’t wait up; I think Phil’s parents are away tonight”

She grabbed her old leather and was gone, leaving the warmth of her smile behind. I started combing through the cupboards for the ingredients she had mentioned, and after another forty minutes, Chloe was rapping on the kitchen door.

“Debbie?”

“Yes, love?”

“We think the new girl’s a bit better now. She’s been in the bath, like Kim told us to do, and we’ve told her who you are”

“Sorry?”

The young woman sighed.

“Her head was full of stories about care homes, abuse, sort of thing. Others put her straight, so she’d like to say hello properly”

“Well, leave her in the other side for now, okay? I will need a hand moving things to that kitchen. We are having a team effort tonight, a spaggy bol, and we’ll all eat together at the big table. No books, no telly. I am going to give Gemma a call and see if she can bring pudding home for us all”

Kim’s advice turned out to be spot on. We gathered together in the back kitchen, and as vegetables were peeled and sliced, a massive pan of water set to boil, a heavy tomato sauce cooked into the mince, and just as Gemma arrived with a few of her trade-marked cardboard boxes, I actually heard a laugh coming from the new resident. Gemma was upbeat.

“Hiya, you lot! Got three big fruit tarts, and some cream to pour over it, and… Frank sent this!”

She held up a small plastic box, with a broad grin.

“Debbie said you were having spag bol, so Frank says will we want something to put on the pasta to make it smell like sick!”

Rachel got the joke first, with a shout of “Parmesan! Yay!”, and Gemma nodded.

“Ready-grated! Hiya, I’m Gemma. I’m the real cook in this house. We haven’t met yet”

With a sudden rush of courage, a slight figure in heart-printed pyjamas and a pink dressing gown held out her hand.

“Hi. I’m Tiffany, but everyone calls me Tiff”

CHAPTER 55
In the end, it was Charlie who made the bridge that brought Tiff to us. The latest girl had done her best, holding her hand out to Gemma, but it was Charlie she clicked with. I suspected it was mostly to do with their shared experience of the man that the latter, with an increasing prickliness, started calling ‘That wonky-eyed cunt’.

Whatever the reason, they seemed to work well together, and the only time that I really saw the damage that had been done was in the simple fact that neither of them would ever leave the House. Not for any form of schooling, not to go shopping, not for a night out at the Smugglers. Just not, ever.

Kim’s offer was a godsend, because I found myself fretting, needing my own support network, my own freedom, and so Kim and Gemma, plus the other girls, in a show of solidarity and maturity that had me weeping, allowed me to hit both the Fumble, with Maisie on the pillion, and the Welsh Coast rally, where Maisie rode with me and Rachel and Emma went with Rockrose and Elf. I had missed that scene so, so much. I felt a little guilty, as so many of the young people had exams to get through, but the guilt flew rapidly away on the wings of my first down-and-dirty dance to a bloody good rock band.

High Summer in itself meant a minibus again, and once more my two champions agreed to hold the home fort, with a watching eye from Paul (plus Nita and Heidi) while the rest of us joined Pat in the North, her contacts in the Scouts saving us a whole shitload of tent issues, but delivering another load in the form of all-night giggle fests from my flock. I was up partway through the first night, explaining forcefully, but as quietly as I could, that canvas walls weren’t soundproof, and that there were other people on the site who might value a decent night’s sleep.

My own sleep suffered a little that night, as I drifted through memories of Pennine Way walkers and a shared breakfast as the sun lit the gold of the long grass to the North, and Mam and Dad slumped happily under blankets with mugs of tea, soaking in the stillness and beauty.

I had booked our pitches by phone, and while the scenery was the same, Mr Williams had retired, and it was someone else, much younger, on site. He was there by the van almost as soon as I turned the engine off and started the game of loosening my back and thighs.

“Hi, you Debbie Wells?”

“Yeah…”

“Nothing to worry about, ah? Emlyn said about you, so we saved you some pitches over by that lump of rock. Couple of your party here already”

He pointed to the little boulder I had sat on so many times, over the years, and to my delight, there was a proper gas range there, a grinning Pat just emerging from the little stone hut that held the water point, two kettles in hand, and Nell and Cathy waving from their own tents. I looked again. Oh. Separate, two-person tents.

I hugged Pat, then waved vaguely at the ground to the North of Pat’s tent and car, where there were various canvas bags on the ground.

“Not got it set up for us, then?”

“Oh, do bugger off! Part of the learning process, Debbie. They can pitch their own bloody tent! Now, how many of this lot have I not met yet?”

I couldn’t help laughing, so I turned to the vanload with my arms spread wide.

“Girls, this is my old friend Pat, who has sorted your accommodation for you. Your accommodation, to be clear, is in those bags on the grass. Guess what your first job is?”

Yes, we did all muck in, but only after I had spent some time catching up with my two students, which was something that really hit me in the guts. My girls, my successes; I could almost forget Andrea. Almost.

“Debbie…”

“Cathy. Why do I feel that you have something messy to tell me?”

“Um, well. You know we joined some clubs at Uni? Dancing and climbing?”

“Of course”

“Well, we’ve brought ropes and stuff to go climbing while we’re here”

“And?”

“Well, neither of us is really that experienced, are we? And it’s not safe, doing it by ourselves, is it?”

I could just see into Cathy’s inner tent, her sleeping bag, her… Her double bag. Nell had her own tent, so it wasn’t a double bag for them, even though I had wondered, now and again.

Oh, once more.

Nell came over to join us, her face rather pink.

“Sort of double whammy, Debbie. Went to the climbing club, sort of got followed to the folk dance club, sort of…”

She cleared her throat, sitting up straighter.

“Sort of courting. Both of us. Just so you know”

My stomach did a little flip.

“And…?”

“Leo and Scott are on the Perving Slab at the moment. We wanted a chance to warn you before you met them”

“Perving Slab?”

Nell laughed, happily.

“Remember how Kim described it? She not here, then?”

“Um, no. We have, there are a couple of new girls, been, well, they don’t feel safe outdoors at the moment”

Cathy nodded, understanding clear in her eyes. I pushed it a little further.

“This Leo and, er”

“Scott”

“Leo and Scott. I assume they are, that they know?”

Nell nodded.

“They do. Not always easy, not completely, you know, but they’re here, and they were smiling on the way up, and we get cuddles and climbing. Whatever else…”

She stopped talking, and I had a surge of memory, of holding a sobbing Kim, of Cathy’s painful question about being hated. Leave them to it, Debbie Petrie Wells. Let them make the best of things, in their own way.

Of course, I had to placate Pat, who missed Kim, so I promised I would do my best to drag her up again, and then our stay went the way they usually did. We had three days of solid rain, but the rest of the fortnight was a delight.

Leo and Scott proved to be more than decent lads, and rather than my girls forming a cheerleading-cum-ogling rank at the foot of the ‘perving slab’, they were attached to ropes and taken up a number of what must have been really easy climbs, and I say that because I was one of those pulled up on the end of a rope, and if I could do it, then it must have been phenomenally easy.

Leo turned out to be from somewhere near Milan, studying English (in Wales? The logic flew straight past me), and was a lanky, dark-haired individual with a hint of a stammer, although that may have been due to the fact that both he and Scott had looked absolutely terrified on meeting me the first time; I did wonder what the girls had told them. Scott, on the other hand, was a chubby lad, from Cannock, of all places, and if anything served to break the ice, it was my reminiscences of Hollies ‘mixed grill’ and his smiling promise to show me the equally infamous ‘Big Jim’ served by a climber’s café in Llanberis.

The hills were still there, though, despite the burst of rain, and with Pat we repeated that route I had done with Kim so many years before, as well as the circuit from Pen yr Ole Wen to Carnedd Llewelyn, and of course we visited the summit of Yr Wyddfa, but not by way of Crib Goch.

Most of us avoided that bit, but not Cathy, Nell and their boys. What on Earth had happened to Miss Beige of the classical music? I realised the answer when we made our obligatory visits to both ‘The Mole Pub’ and the one in Bethesda with the folk club, and I watched her lad settle an arm comfortably around her waist, his smile so obviously genuine, as well as being for her, that my heart nearly broke.

We ticked so many of my boxes on that trip, and it felt almost exactly like that, a tick list, up until the point I realised that while Pat’s old friend the woolly-hatted shepherd was in his usual place, a certain ginger misery wasn’t.

We were down the Bethesda pub when it sank in, and I was behind Pat at the bar. The barman was in a cheerful mood.

“Hiya, Pat! How many you brought down this time, ah?”

“Dunno, Owen. Lost count of them on Llech Ddu. You’ll probably find a couple still up there next Spring”

He laughed, and she gathered her drinks as I read out the long list of soft drinks for my brood. Owen was chuckling.

“Good to see her smile, isn’t it? Anyway, you not been up so often recently. All okay?”

“Ah, just work. So many to look after, so much in the way of exams and that”

“Aye. Running a home, aren’t you?”

“Sort of. Girls come, they go, but this place is always the same”

He chuckled, pointing at Nell as Scott settled into a rather relaxed cuddle with a clear lack of ‘interpersonal space’.

“Aye, but wasn’t that one shy when you first brought her up?”

I stood up a little, looking more closely at him.

“I didn’t realise you paid so much attention to my lot”

“Ah, good customers, aye? In both senses. Good custom, decent customers. If Pat is happy with you, then so am I. I remember how you looked after her, love, when, you know. That time of year, ah?”

“Ah indeed. She’s always been there for me, so what else could I do?”

“There’s loads wouldn’t, so take it as I mean it”

“Thanks. Could I ask a question? Might be a bit rude?”

“I’ll tell you when you ask”

“Somebody I expected to see here. Ginger hair, pony tail, plays fiddle. He not here?”

“That’ll be Steve Jones. You gave him a lift once, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Bit of a misery, to tell the truth”

“Aye. Piss head as well. No, not seen him for a while. Gets like that, up here. People come over and over again, almost their second home, and then whoosh, they vanish. Find something else to do with their lives, I suppose. Never know; he might even have got married!”

I had a rush of certainty to the brain that if anything had happened to him, it wouldn’t have been good. So close to the edge of breaking down, never a smile, and the only times I had ever seem him any distance from a glass was when we drove him back up to the camp site or rolling down to Betws on his bike.

Forget him, woman. Other things to worry about. Young ones, to be precise.

I said goodbye to three old friends and two newer ones as the rest of the girls did their best to put away their large tent before we left, Pat grinning and pointing out that it would only end up spread out over clothes horses to dry when she got home, and then I began the long drive back through England, my soul feeling so much lighter even as we left the mountains behind. The girls found some nonsense song or other to sing, which then mutated into mickey-taking of the nice kind, each member of our group, including those not with us, getting a verse for themselves of ‘Coming round the Mountain’. Pat’s involved the repeated phrase ‘Just get over this bit and we’re there’, and then a reference to flasks of tea.

An almost perfect holiday.

We parked up at the House to offload, where I found Rockrose waiting with a grin.

“Hiya, Deb! Been freeloading on tea with your girl Kim. We thought you might like a lift back from the van hire place, so get them in, grab your lid, and we’re offski. Got my dogs to feed, isn’t it?”

I left the girls to sort themselves out, already arguing about who got the baths first, gave a quick wave to Charlie and Tiff, and shot off to get rid of the van, which was far more painless as they had come to know me and value my custom.

“Rockrose?”

“Yup?”

“How long were you waiting at Ruth’s?”

“Only about three hours, no biggy”

“Three hours? But…”

“Oh, shut up, woman. Family, aren’t you? Anyway, we’ve been doing some sniffing, haven’t we?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Upstairs flat you might have heard of. Had a flooding accident, so it can’t be used at the moment”

“Flooding? Upstairs? Explain”

“Well, someone pulled all the radiators off the walls. Real mess, by all accounts. Lid on, sis! Dogs to feed, aye?”

I fretted about that one all the way home, but her riding was so utterly without consideration of taking any prisoners that I lost my thread several times. Never dangerous, just not open to any form of intimidation by other road users. I was reminded of how Horse would walk across a rally site; he was going from Point A to Point B, and that was how he walked. Other people moved. That was Rockrose; never dangerous, just very, very clear in her intended course down the road.

She was off almost as soon as I had stepped off the bike again, with just a little grin and the words “No problems while you were away”. I stepped into the kitchen and was met with hugs of real affection from Charlie and Tiff, who were in night clothes and a dress, respectively.

Charlie was stirring a very large pot of what smelled like one of Kim’s or Ruth’s stews (they were, after all, the same thing, in essence), while Tiff was slicing carrots and shredding cabbage. She grinned up at me as she dropped the hug and returned to her work.

“Not the same, cabbage, not like at school, is it? Not all boiled to squishy stuff, is it?”

Charlie let out a monumental sniff of disdain.

“Yeah, Debbie, you got two real cooks here now! Not dinner ladies, us, we’re chefs de cuisine or whatever!”

She couldn’t hold the pose, and collapsed into a fit of giggles, along with her co-conspirator.

“Talking rubbish, we are! All Kim’s work, this. We’re just doing the veg. She’ll be over in a bit, once Max is home, she said. Anyway, doesn’t matter. Debbie?”

I stepped across to hug them both once more, and both squeezed hard. Tiff’s voice was muffled against my breasts.

“Thanks, Debbie. It’s light, yeah? Dawn coming? Next year, us two on holiday with you? Maybe?”

New dawn, indeed. They were healing.

CHAPTER 56
Cathy and Nell had left us with one mumbled apology, and that was for their failure to pack up and head home immediately after their term had finished. Nell in particular had done her unsuccessful best to hide a sly smile.

“Leo’s never been to Scotland, so, well… lot’s of places to explore”

Cathy had burst out laughing at that remark, leaving Nell blushing even more fiercely than she had done at that infamous New Year’s Eve party. She started to stammer something else, and I shut her up with a hug and a finger to her lips.

“I understand, love. Make the best of it, but save some time for us. Only fair, eh? Can’t guarantee a single room for you when you do come home, though. Got a bit busy”

Cathy smiled at that one.

“Still home, though. Still a real home. Neither of us would be here, like this, without you, would we? Now, we are off. Long drive to Glencoe”

“Ring me, both of you. Let me know you are okay”

Promises were made, and duly kept over the next few weeks, but it was the post that brought the real treat. I came in from a day of short local runs, and along with a cup of tea, Charlie handed me a padded envelope and a small cardboard box, one postmarked in Aberystwyth, the other in England. I guessed that the first would be from the girls, but the second puzzled me until I had opened it and found the letter from Pat.

Hi Debbie
Tell Kim I was really disappointed not to see her, so I thought I’d try my hand at arm-twisting. I’ve been back through old photo albums, as well as the photo files from my digital camera, and I have scanned or downloaded as many shared memories as I thought were worth letting you have. Tell her that while there may be others, it would be nice to take some new ones, so she has to engage her rump and get it back up here.

Say hello to all the others for me!
Love
Pat

Two CD boxes were with the letter, and of course the other package held two more, this time from Cathy and Eleanor, with mock-serious threats and warnings about failure to comply with sitting the whole House down with ‘hot choccie and Gemma specials’ for a ‘night at the pictures’.

I found myself tearing up, to Charlie’s clear concern, but I smiled, reassuring her that there was no actual problem, and that she should tell the others that we would be having a social evening, all of us.

“Can you ring this number, Charlie? Ask to speak to Gemma. We have a load of photos to look at tonight, from our trip to the mountains, so we need treats to share while we do so. Tell her I’ll sort out the cash when she gets in”

While she ordered cakes, I gave the Grove a ring, finding Ruth on duty.

“Hiya, Deb. You after Kim? She’s with a customer just now”

“Ah, let her know we’ve had a present delivered”

“Oh?”

“Nothing that special; just a load of pictures a friend took in the hills for us. Going to have a sit-and-watch-with-cake evening tonight”

Ruth laughed out loud.

“So I need to tactfully suggest that she tactfully doesn’t stay out with Phil tonight, then?”

She got my own laugh in return.

“Would be rather helpful, love! Tell her we’ll start at about seven, okay?”

We all sat in the second dining room that night, for a House meal of sausages and mash, and once the dishwasher was loaded and set running, I passed Kim the two letters, the first from Pat and the second a brief note from Cathy and Nell. She held Pat’s message for a minute or so, then looked hard at me, seeming embarrassed. I held up a hand to stop her gushing when she didn’t have to.

“I know, Kim. So many people to fit into your life now, isn’t it? And no, I am not teasing. Bit better than when we found each other, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Pat really loves you, Debbie”

“That’s ‘us’, Kim. Loves us. Yes, I think you’re right there. Agreed, girls?”

There was a chorus of cheers, and I set up the TV as Gemma brought in a number of well-loaded plates. A quick fiddle with the channel selector, and I slipped in the first of Pat’s discs. She had interspersed the pictures with some hand-lettered captions, and the first set was ‘Ancient but still warm memories’.

The chorus of puzzled noises was what I should have expected.

“Pipe down, you lot! So I was skinny when I was a little girl! That was when we met, okay?”

I muttered a small prayer that she had only uploaded the other photos to one disc, and not the one I was showing my girls. I wasn’t ready to talk about Mam and Dad just then. Keep the evening light, DPW.

The photos marched onward in time, Kim’s first appearance drawing similar comments, as did Nell’s, and when I saw some pictures I had never suspected Pat had sneaked, I gasped. Kim turned to me, as the screen showed a remarkably well-toned young man in nothing bit boots, shorts and climbing harness,

“Well, she said she might be older, but she could still go window-shopping!”

The pictures continued through the years, and as each girl spotted herself, or was spotted by her friends, there were cheers, as well as a lot of cheeky comments about climbing technique and awarding of points for style. There were shots of mountains, South Stack, even the folk club nights, including a couple that showed the ginger misery in full insanity with his fiddle, and all told, the collection warmed my soul. Alicia coughed for attention, holding up a hand.

“Debbie, got an idea”

“Go on”

“I had a… I have a thing at home. Digital picture frame, it’s called. You can load it with a set of images, and it scans through them one by one. Like a self-moving photo album. If I ask Dad, when I see him…”

“You okay with that, girl?”

“I think so. Got a day out, an afternoon, next weekend. He wants to go shopping, and have a meal”

Nicky jerked up at that, as did Tiff, and Alicia looked at them with a gentle smile.

“No. Not like that. Just his way of getting used to me, he says. Not just clothes, either. He says I should have a new laptop, help with my studies. Wanted to get me a phone, but Mrs Milton said no, not yet”

Still as switched on as ever, Heidi. I decided to change the subject.

“Right; next two discs are from Cathy and Nell. Everyone ready?”

I clicked them over, and we started the same process of face-spotting and mickey-taking, until the scenery changed, and I burst out laughing.

“I know that place!”

Charlie sniffed, a sound that seemed more and more to be her signature.

“Everyone knows Gretna Green, Debbie!”

“Not what I mean1 I used to.. Mam and Dad and me, we stopped there to sell stuff to tourists, was our trad. Got told to move on once, officious prick. Called us pikeys! Oh, that next one, oh how I remember that, but not in sunshine, the jammy sods. That’s the Red Moss; always had an open fire, cause that bit was always, always wet when we crossed the top of the Summit”

I was gushing, so I reined myself back in, and the pictures settled down to more scenery, shots of the girls and their men climbing, a few shots obviously inside pubs or restaurants, a few group shots on mountain tops, some in snow despite the time of year, and then one where…

“Debbie?”

“Yes, Chloe?”

“Tell me those boys have got swimming trunks on in that river”

“Um, I can’t be sure, love”

“Well, neither can I, especially as Nell hasn’t got a top on!”

I peered more closely at the screen, and no, there appeared to be a remarkable lack of clothing visible. It seemed my girls were indeed flying free, and at greater altitudes than I had realised. Shit.

I took a look round the group, and so many of their expressions could have been described as soppy. It would have been all of them, but three were clearly doing their best not to weep, while Kim just looked guilty. I could understand her feeling.

Three of them in what probably felt like love, and perhaps was exactly that, but whether or not it was the real deal was irrelevant, as they were living their genuine lives at last. The final disc finished on some spectacular coastal sunsets, and we all sat for a few minutes in silence, until I called to Alicia.

“If you can’t get your picture thing back, let me know, and we will all have a look online to see what they cost. We’ll have a House session to pick which photos we’ll load onto them if we find some, okay? And before you say it, NO! Certain pictures will not be acceptable”

Emma and Rachel’s heads turned, as if geared together.

“Oh. Which ones might they be?”

“Half naked climbers and naked swimmers, just for starters!”

The full room in chorus shouted “Spoilsport!”, before Gemma turned to the television.

“Um, there are some rugby previews on…”

Patricia, Chloe and Charlie, as one, mock-swooned.

“Oh, Georgie!”

I raised an eyebrow, and Charlie grinned, so much more confident in the group than outside it.

“Gemma’s got the cream horn, or rather she wants Georgie’s. New Wales player, all young and big. George North. She’ll be sorting out her cupcakes for him, just you wait”

Gemma laughed, blushed and threw a tea-towel at Charlie before switching channels, where the national news was just finishing.

“Sentencing has been carried out in the Melanie Stevens case. Our reporter Emily Henshaw was at Croydon Crown Court for the outcome”

The camera cut to the entrance to a scruffy and brutalist building in red brick, where a woman stood under an umbrella with a microphone in hand.

“Proceedings have now finished in the Melanie Stevens murder trial, which involved the tragic and brutal death earlier this year of a transsexual woman on the northbound carriageway of the M23 near Worth, outside Gatwick Airport, a crime which has profoundly shocked local people. Billy James Anstey and Alfie John Smith, of Belvedere in Kent, were each sentenced to life imprisonment with a minimum term of twenty-five years, while two youths, who cannot be named for legal reasons, were detained in a young offenders’ institution at Her Majesty’s pleasure”

I went to switch off the horrible thing, but Charlie put her hand to my arm and stopped me.

“Please, Nana”

The reporter continued.

“This case involved the death of a former Royal Marine Commando and Falklands War veteran, previously known as Mike. Ms Stevens had been advised that she was to be given gender reassignment surgery in a few weeks’ time, and had gone out to celebrate, where she encountered the group of men and youths, who were in the Crawley area delivering a vanload of illicit alcohol. In the words of the presiding judge, this was a depraved and inhuman attack that involved the tactics of hyenas”

The camera cut to scenes of a dance floor set up on grass outside a church, where a folk band was hammering out some tune I half-recognised.

“Ms Steven’s funeral was organised by local well-wishers, and when it became a focus for community horror, we reported on the event for BBC Surrey…”

Kim was shaking her head as the piece finished.

“We need to let Sparky know, Deb. Might have been a mate of his, Needs to know”

I was in shock, though, from the last part of the news item.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll, we can do a tea run or something. Yeah”

“Are you all right, Nana?”

“What? Oh. None of you spot that, in the news?”

The reporter was speaking to the vicar whose church it appeared to be, and getting some extremely thinly veiled nastiness from the man, and then the camera cut to another figure, tall, ginger, in a bloody dress.

“Stephanie Jones was one of the organisers of the funeral and associated musical event. Ms Jones, could you sum up what this event has involved for the community?”

Kim’s head turned to stare with me.

“Oh my fucking god!”

CHAPTER 57
I couldn’t wait for another evening, and so I loaded up the van with mugs and selected girls, Rachel and Emma this time, as soon as the meal was finished and the rest had settled down for yet another run-through of the pictures. I had taken twenty minutes for a quick internet search about Ms Stevens, and the results had left me feeling utterly horrified. I didn’t waste time asking myself stupid questions about how people could do such things, et bloody cetera, as I had met Cooper and Hamilton, so had an intimate knowledge of what alleged humans could be capable of doing to others.

The details were that awful. Bastards.

Rather than Splott, as it was a dry and warm evening and the working girls would most likely be busy with trade, I headed for the area of the City where Sparky usually had his doss, picking up some loaves and cheap sliced ham along with four bottles of squash. As soon as we pulled up, and the side door slid open, there were figures emerging from side streets and alleyways. Nothing seemed to change there, nothing ever got better.

Sparky ambled out with a grin and a wave to my two helpers, but clearly saw something in my face that worried him.

“What’s up, Debbie? One of the girls?”

I shook my head, calling over to my assistants to check they were okay on their own for a few minutes before leading Sparky off to the other side of the road, where we had at least a semblance of privacy.

“Got me worried now, woman. What’s going on?”

“Oh, shit, mate. Not with us, not this time. Do you mind if I ask a couple of personal questions? Might have some news for you”

He gave me a flat and measuring stare.

“Why am I feeling this isn’t a good idea?”

“Bear with me, just for a sec. If you don’t want to answer, I’ll understand”

“Go on”

“Now, I know this is probably not something you want to go back over, but I need to confirm you were a Marine. Falklands, yeah?”

“Don’t want to talk about that, Deb. Really don’t”

“Not what I want to talk about. Did you know someone, another Marine, called Mike Stevens? Supposed to be from Northumberland, originally?”

His eyes widened.

“Fuck, yes. Big bastard, good back-up in a ruck. Always thought he might be hiding the sausage with his mate… Oh shit. What’s happened? Got to be bad news, the face you’ve got on, Debbie”

I took a few deep breaths, before asking the next question.

“Bad news, yes. Can keep it to myself if you’d prefer”

“Not now, Deb. Get it out, please. How did he die?”

“Murder, Sparky. Pushed off a motorway bridge, went under some cars and trucks. Killers have just been given life”

His face worked for a couple of minutes, as he started to say several things, shutting up each time before arriving at the words he wanted, or perhaps the ones he could handle.

“Makes a change, Debbie. Having someone else who did it. Too many of the lads sorted themselves out afterwards. Makes a fucking change”

He took a few of his own deep breaths before fixing me with a stare.

“Where was this, Debbie? And what aren’t you telling me? I can feel there’s more. Wasn’t out with a boyfriend, anything like that? I always did wonder”

“Would that cause you a problem, Sparky?”

“You bloody joking? I know which pub you lot use, and I know what your girls really are!”

“What they really are is just that, Sparky. Girls”

“Probably not the best way to phrase it, was it?”

“Not really, love, but I know how you meant it. It happened in Crawley, near Gatwick Airport”

“Shit. No way I can get over there. They give him a good send off?”

I nodded. Get the next bit over with, woman.

“I really think so. Looks like the whole town came out for it. Even sorted her out a proper headstone”

His face twitched.

“What did you say?”

I took his hands in mine.

“What I meant to say, love. She. Had a date for her surgery, that was why she was out. Celebrating, wasn’t it?”

Suddenly, to my astonishment, he was in tears, so I tugged him into an alley and out of sight, until he could find some self-control again. I just held him to me, and in the end, I wasn’t sure who was really supporting whom. He spoke into my shoulder.

“Sorry, girl. Just, well, lost so many mates after that shitshow, more than I did in the actual war, isn’t it? Mike was a decent bloke, diamond, and here we are, and I never, ever got a chance to know him, her, the real one. Someone who… Shit. Not going there, Deb. Just leave it that once or twice, he was the only thing that kept me from being slotted. Killed. She. Oh, the poor, poor fucker!”

Once more, he took some deep, shuddering breaths.

“Which jail are the cunts in? No. Don’t answer. Somebody will know. End of subject. Now…”

More breathing exercises, as he fought himself back into control.

“Shall we go and see what stories those two girls have from their holiday? Don’t have to be true; silly and funny will do me tonight”

We wiped eyes, and made our way back to the van, smiles loosely attached, and I wondered what had actually happened in the South Atlantic to leave such wreckage in a man’s life. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the sort of thing I had ever seen in a war film, and I kept thinking the phrase ‘Not just me, then’. We made the most of the warm evening, seeing life come back into some faces that had lacked it for so long, and then closed up the van and headed home after another long hug from Sparky.

“If you are ever, you know, heading over that way, Debbie, and you have a spare seat, well…”

“Any time, love. You know that”

“Thanks, love. I know that… no. Not going there. Let me know, that’s all. And same goes for any work you need doing”

I left a shattered man by the side of the road, and neither girl said a word about my tears until we were home. As I parked the van behind the House, Rachel turned to me, laying a hand on my arm.

“He knew that woman, didn’t he? The one on the news?”

“Yes, love, he did”

“What can we do to help?”

“Seriously? Sorry; I didn’t mean that to sound rude. It’s just that there are some things people go through, bad things, and there isn’t really anything anyone can do. Except be there for them. Catch them if they fall”

I settled down in bed that evening rather earlier than normal, sleep taking a long time to arrive. Not just me, then, carrying my history like a millstone.

Cathy and Nell were home a fortnight later, and as I had warned them, they ended up sharing a room, which brought a series of bad jokes from Charlie about being used to sharing, just not in THAT way. The girl was clearly healing, more so than Tiff, but there was still a flat refusal, or perhaps inability, to leave the House, and she spent most of her time in her night clothes. The remnants of my own Summer disappeared in a swathe of short runs, as Bert called in the favours he had bestowed on me earlier in the season. I had been given my time off, and it was now my turn to allow other drivers to have their own breaks. Much as I loved Bert, he remained a very hard-nosed businessman, in a cuddly and avuncular way. I had to smile at one point, when he gave me a week of longer runs that included areas near the peregrine cliffs of the Wye Valley as well as the Pembrokeshire coast.

When I pointed out that I could hardly park an articulated lorry in a tourist car park, he just grinned and pointed to an old bike in the corner of the yard.

I took his advice, and the bike, and all I will say is that if god had meant me to pedal around on two wheels, why had he invented the internal combustion engine? My arse hurt for bloody ages. Nice thought, Bert, but next time I’ll try and load a fifty or something.

In between delivery shifts, I spent some time watching Alicia’s back, as her father seemed to be doing his best to construct a relationship with his daughter that he had clearly never managed when he thought he had a son.

Serena was the next surprise, as Heidi let me know that that girl’s mother was now following a similar route to Alicia’s father, and yet again we had the little dances of introduction, or perhaps re-introduction, and Kim, as was becoming her habit now, stepped up to cover when both Paul and myself were unable to play.

That season also brought the important letters, and I had a whole new set of worries as results came in for O and A level exams. It was a social event of an odd kind, because Heidi had arranged for the results to be delivered courtesy of her office address, as a way of keeping the House address out of the hands of those who might have less than kind intentions towards my girls.

A social event indeed, where so many futures opened up. All of the girls got something out of it, whether it be a chance to head off for A-levels or a vocational course, or, in the cases of Patricia and Serena, high enough grades for their offer from Cardiff University.

I felt lost, as every single one of them was still a child to me, still felt like someone I had to stand in front of and protect. Tricia and Serena were the toast of the House that evening, and when Tricia called across to Nell, “How’s it go? Climbing club first, or is it the dancing? Or shall we just dive straight into the shagging?”

Nell, bless her, blushed like a stop light, while both Cathy and Kim just looked almost insufferably smug. I looked a question at the latter, and she smiled, even more smugly.

“Phil’s got his place, yeah, and that’s the other thing. He’s got a flat share, another couple, both at Cardiff, yeah? Bus route to here, so I can get to work easy”

“Flat share”

“Er, yeah. Just the four of us”

She mumbled something, and I asked her to repeat it so I could hear.

“Two-bedroom flat came up, furnished. All of us share the rent, it’s cheaper than Halls of Residence”

Leave it, Debbie. The other girls will do the embarrassing later, Charlie for one.

Tiff was the next to speak, though, and I realised she had cut across Charlie, and it had been deliberate.

“Nell?”

“Yes, love?”

“Those pictures. In that river”

“Yeah… I told Cathy not to, didn’t I?”

“Um. Yes. But you didn’t have no top on”

In a very small voice: “No”

“Yeah, we could see that. Not going to ask about YOUR knickers, though. Just his. Theirs. The two lads”

Suddenly, Nell was grinning.

“Water wasn’t cold, not really. Like a sort of trapped pool, water dribbling in at one end, slowly out the other. It’s up in between two mountains in Glen Coe, the Little Buachaille and Beinn Fhada. When I say the water wasn’t cold…”

She started giggling, and then stopped as best she could, Cathy taking over with little snorting sounds.

“I know what Nell’s going to say!”

“You were the one who pointed it out, Cathy”

“Well, yeah! I was the one still dressed, wasn’t I?”

“Only till you’d taken the pictures, you sod!”

Kim was now chuckling, clearly having worked out whatever the joke was, so I just held up a hand.

“Get to the point, Nell, if there is one!”

“Yeah. That’s the point. Cool water, so there were no, er points. All shrivelled up, weren’t they?”

Maisie harrumphed, while trying not to smirk.

“What’s the point of a you-know-what when it’s like that?”

To my astonishment, the next voice was Gemma’s.

“I hear there are nice ways to, er, warm them up again”

I took a quick look to make sure Nicky and Tiff were okay, as Charlie sniffed, as theatrically as ever.

“Oh Georgie, may I warm you up? I know the nicest ways!”

It was one of the best evenings I had ever managed while sober, and although sleep was once more slow to come that night, it was only because I kept jerking awake with laughter.

CHAPTER 58
I don’t know whether what Marlene and I had called my ‘girl magnetism’ was wearing off, but Heidi and Nita seemed to have come to a temporary half in supplying new residents. We are, after all, such a tiny proportion of the population that I must have been sheltering a major part of the available ‘supply’, and there was also the parallel fact that not all parents are bastards.

I had met enough who were, of course, and as I watched Alicia and Serena developing a new relationship with their own, I understood that in many cases it was just a matter of ignorance and confusion. Sometimes, just sometimes, that could be worked through. Not with arseholes like Kim’s dad, of course, nor creepy shits like Tiff’s, but still--- sometimes.

So the Autumn came on, and I lost Tricia and Serena to degree courses in Cardiff. Not actually ‘lost’, of course, for they were still coming home each evening, unlike Cathy and Nell, but it was still a wrench, as their social circle expanded and the number at our evening meal regularly dropped. Far more painful was the loss of Kim as she had moved in with Phil when his own course had started. I found myself becoming a regular at Ruth’s once again, as it was one way of seeing her, something I was finding had become a real necessity.

Kim had been my first little friend, my first success. Cathy and Nell were now flying high, and Patricia and Serena looked set to follow their path, but it was a confident, cheeky, in-your-face young woman that left me flushed with warmth and pride. I hadn’t made her in any way, for she was and always had been her own person, but I had been the one to offer her the room, the safe space, that had allowed her to grow.

We still had a mass descent on the Smugglers at Christmas, which was attended by three young men. Phil’s cheeky grin at the reaction from Leo and Scott to Marlene let me see exactly why Kim had fallen for him, as our host had gone into full skin-stripping bitch mode on spotting the boys.

Cathy and Nell, for their part, had clearly been expecting the display, and had simply stood far enough back from their men for their stifled laughter to be covered by the sounds of the disco from the next room, only stepping forward as Marlene came to a pause, and I heard Cathy say something about a ‘bitch’.

Marlene drew herself up to her full seven or so feet of heels-to-wig and sneered down at my girl.

“Bitch I may be, but Moi is a professional one, unlike you amateurs!”

Her sneer changed into a grin, and she stepped round the end of the bar to hug the two.

“Welcome home, girls. If these two don’t… come up to the mark, let me know, and I will throw them to the bears”

That was a normal Christmas for us, although ‘normal’ was our own interpretation. My two students had taken a couple of rooms for the holiday, one being over Harry’s, probably the same one Graham and Malcolm had used, while Ruth warmed my heart by offering Nell and Leo floor space in her own flat. I was still keeping to the rule about men in the House, even though I was missing Graham and his partner horribly, but we had no such problems at New Year, as we simply descended en masse, Phil included, at the clubhouse, Lee and Scott having gone home for their own family New Year.

That was a night my memory lost a lot of, as usual, but I did drop a little word of advice to Kim: less ogling of Oily, more smiling at Phil.

The only blight on the two holidays was down to Charlie and Tiff, as they were still unable to face leaving the House, even in our crowd. What touched me was an offer from Gemma.

“Debbie, what are you all doing for Christmas and New Year?”

“Same as we always do, Gemma. Smugglers and Clubhouse. Why do you ask?”

“Charlie and Tiff. We can’t leave them here all on their own, can we?”

“Yeah, I have to sort something out there”

“I’ve got something”

“Yes?”

“Um, not really my thing, is it? Parties?”

“Sorry?”

“Not really someone who can go looking for a snog, is it? Can’t go on the pull, can I?”

She waved a hand down her body, so tall and solid, and my own inner bitch was in instant agreement, much to my shame.

“Going to be working late on both Eves, Debbie, but I’ll be done on time, and Frank said he’d drop me at Ruth’s after work both nights. He’s staying home as well, so he says it’s not a problem for him”

“You sure about this, love?”

“Yeah. Get some drinks in, I can bring some of my stuff home, and some of his, and the three of us can watch Jools Holland and stuff. Not a problem for me”

I could almost read her mind, of course, and it clearly was a problem, as my intuition was telling me so clearly. Go out to a party, watch everyone else pairing up, especially at the end-of-year countdown, and then see everyone else sucking faces off. I was in the same boat, of course, but I had my own way of coping, which wouldn’t suit Gemma, as my particular method for all too many years had simply meant getting absolutely blind drunk.

Another little ‘not just me’ moment to cut me. I hugged her, thanked her and after a canvas of the three of them, got a limited supply of booze in for the two evenings. The obs were piling up.

So onwards to Spring, and another Summer with Pat, and once again Kim moved back home to look after Charlie and Tiff as Phil went home to his own parents for the holidays. Pat was disappointed once again, but she still found her smiles for my troop. Next year, maybe; at some point, two rape victims might heal, and I had left Dr Thomas as much information as I fairly could.

And round we went again, the year turning, and the last of my ‘school girls’ entered the sixth form college for A-levels or vocational studies, still enough of a troop for group support. Another Christmas, another New Year and another obligation to Gemma. Where on hell was the time going?

We were also short two on Christmas Day itself, as Alicia’s father and Serena’s mother collected them from outside Ruth’s and Harry’s respectively. They were back for the evening, and they were so quiet I was terrified that I asked them to come into the ‘study’ in the second house.

I sat them down with a cup of tea each, as chocolate would have been too heavy after all the food we had been pigging out on, and left them to think for a few minutes. Alicia was the first to open up.

“You’re wondering how it was, Debbie”

I nodded.

“Hard not to, really. It’s just that both of you are so quiet, it worries me. My job to look after you, isn’t it?”

She looked across to Serena, who took her hand.

“Yeah. Me and Serena here, well, she waited for me when her Mam dropped her off, so we could, you know. Compare notes”

“And?”

Alicia looked at the other girl, who nodded, ‘you tell’ it the clear meaning.

“Deb?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you have proper Christmases as a kid?”

Memories… music, booze, Peter standing in a freezing cold pond thanking the spirits, a sock at the foot of my bed. Mam and Dad sorting tea out for a whole room of hungover people. Smiles. Bite back on the pain, Debbie Petrie Wells.

“Yes, love. I had some wonderful Christmases”

Alicia smiled, and it was a wistful one.

“Serena and me, yeah, we compared notes sort of thing, and yeah: we both had a really lovely day. Dad was great, and she says her Mam really pushed the boat out, and Dad was trying so hard… see these?”

She lifted her hair to show a pair of crystal ear studs.

“When Dad and me were on a visit, with Mrs Milton, we went round the shops, and he must’ve seen me looking at these, cause he had bought them for me as a prezzie, and that was what the day was like. Remember that first text? Remember I said he hadn’t called me his son?”

“Yes, I do. Very well, love”

“Yeah, well, today it was his daughter, and Serena here, she says her Mam was just the same”

Serena was nodding now, her smile as wistful as Alicia’s.

“Yeah. Mam and me, it was just us two for dinner and that, like Alicia and her Dad, and Mam, she tells me I’ve got work to do in the kitchen, and…”

Her tears started as she spoke her next words.

“She says ‘Just the two of us this year, mother and daughter Christmas’, and it was like that all day”

I had a suspicion of what the problem might be.

“Can I have a guess, girls?”

They both nodded, and I reached out for their free hands.

“You’re asking yourselves why it couldn’t always have been like that, am I right?”

They both nodded as one, and I squeezed their fingers in mine.

“New start, then, and a target for next year”

They looked at each other, then back at me, both sets of eyebrows raised, so I simply smiled again.

“Next year’s will be an even better family Christmas, girls. We together on that?”

I got the nods of agreement I needed, and led them back into the other half of the House. Next year, indeed, would be as good as I could make it, and if it involved losing a couple of girls, so be it.

Once again, we were in the crap part of the year, and I was working two jobs, as there was no way I could leave so many out in the cold. As long as I wasn’t on a late shift, I would arrive home, where Charlie and Tiff had packed everything ready to go into the Transit, and after we had eaten, I would take a couple of girls out to distribute a little bit of humanity to the cold and hungry. I was sitting in an armchair after one run, savouring my own warm brew, as the BBC evening news ended and the weather forecast told us of more misery to come, and they started their version of the commercial break. For people who weren’t supposed to do adverts, they did rather a lot, even if it was all for their own stuff.

I was only half-listening as they puffed one programme, yet another repeat of something called ‘The Sharp End’, when I realised that I knew one of the figures on screen.

“Trooper Gerald Barker of the Royal Tank Regiment became a household name after the classic BBC North documentary ‘The Sharp End’, and on the anniversary of his death we are offering another chance to watch the programme at ten o’clock on Thursday. Viewers should be aware that the subject matter is not suitable for younger viewers”

It wasn’t the programme details that caught my attention, however, but the figures on screen. As an army bugler played the traditional notes over, a fresh grave I recognised one of the mourners: Mr Hemmings, my surgeon.

CHAPTER 59
I called out to the girls slumped in various chairs.

“Any of you understand how to set this bloody thing to record?”

We had upgraded the television after the previous set had walked out of a back door and, by proxy, onto a mortuary slab, and it had all sorts of tricks I couldn’t get my head around. Chloe was the one who made the necessary button-pushes, finding the time for the programme and setting the machine up to capture the show for a later opportunity.

It didn’t look like it would be anything I would normally watch, but I would be able to skim through and find out what Mr Hemmings had to do with the man who had died. I remembered his generosity of spirit, and had a quiet thought that, just maybe, I might find a smile or two of memory.

In the end, I waited ten days before watching the show, and discovered that it was actually a combination eulogy and repeat of a rather odd panel show. The second part sounded like something I could happily skim, but the first part grabbed my attention almost immediately.

Barker had been in a tank in the Second World War, and there was the usual stock footage I had seen too many times, and then it cut to scenes of a wedding, where an old man in army uniform was leading a tall young woman in the full white meringue, apparently his daughter on her wedding day. The scene then cut to what had clearly been his funeral, where I spotted Mr Hemmings again, who clearly knew the daughter well.

She was interviewed for the next bit of the programme, along with her husband, and as her voice came from the television, I spotted several girls’ heads lift. Charlie was the first to react properly, grabbing the remote control and freezing the picture.

“Debbie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Look at her chin. Her neck. You thinking what I am?”

Tiff was nodding.

“Yeah, and her voice, isn’t it? One of us, isn’t she?”

“That’s her husband beside her, Tiff”

“Yeah, but the law, it’s changed, hasn’t it?”

I pressed ‘play’ again, and that voice: well, contralto was a polite term, but her husband seemed comfortable beside her. They spoke of how generous and decent her father had been, and there was some waffle about donations to the British Legion, before the original programme came on. It was the classic formula of introducing each of the panel with a shot of them going ‘normally about their daily life’, which in Barker’s case meant running some sort of boatyard, where the daughter ran the office, looking even more obviously trans than she had in the interview section. There were sections of the old men sitting and talking, interspersed with bits of them in Belgium, at some sort of civic reception, and Germany, where my blood started to chill.

They brought Mr Hemmings on then, along with his brother, and I remembered Mam’s comments then, about guilt and atonement, about a place she and Dad had lived close to in Germany, and after the brothers had told of trying to save so many people it had already been too late for, Barker and a man called Ernie spoke about a smell they could never escape. I found myself in tears, especially at the utter loss in Barker’s eyes as he spoke.

I almost missed another bit, but once again Charlie reacted and grabbed the god box, rewinding a little way.

“That man there, he just said something I nearly missed, and I think…”

She started it playing again, and it was a man in his sixties or late fifties speaking, not an ounce of fat on him, a heavy moustache under a broken nose. He was talking about some peacekeeping thing in Bosnia, and then, the words Charlie had caught.

“Not the place for us, not at all, and it was my mate, big Geordie lad, Mike. He shouldn’t have been there, you know? I mean, he were hard as nails, but sensitive with it, and what those bastards did to women, kids… He said it right, a job for coppers, not soldiers. We came back, and he just cleared off. Never saw him again, and then it were Iraq again, and that were almost a relief. I mean, it were still a horrible thing, but at least it were a bloody war and not women and kids, Sorry”

Charlie rewound and played the clip over again, before turning to me, eyes wide.

“That has to be that woman who was killed, Debbie. Mike? A Geordie? Sensitive? And that man there, he was a Marine, Falklands stuff”

Patricia spoke up then.

“Debbie, we all worked it out, that thing on the news. Sparky, yeah? What do we do?”

I sat in silence for a minute, as the girls whispered, Emma going to the kitchen to sort some hot drinks, before my decision was made.

“Got to let Sparky have a chance to watch this, girls. Can I ask a favour, from all of you? When he comes around, could you just leave the two of us on our own to watch this? Save embarrassing him. Dead girl was a friend of his”

I got a hug from each girl, and Serena handed me the tissue box for my tears. Three days later, I brought my homeless friend to the House for a repeat showing, and as the two parts unfolded, he sat silently, until the ‘day in the life’ part, which sat him upright.

“Fuck me, Debbie, that’s Chalky White!”

“I know, love. That’s part of why I asked you round. I can skip to the important bit if you’d prefer”

He shook his head.

“No. If you don’t mind, can I watch it through? Don’t get much telly where I live”

After the daily life scenes, he paused the show.

“Going to take a guess, but that woman’s too young to be his real daughter, and, well, she’s one of yours, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Don’t know her, but one of the people at the funeral was my surgeon. He’s in the programme as well, which is what caught my eye”

“Right… yeah, hear that? Chalky White, on one of the fireteams in D-Company when were down South, and in Bosnia. I think he was in a team with Mike and Stewie in the second---hang on”

He turned to stare at me.

“Is Mike in this show?”

I grimaced.

“Not in it, but he gets a mention. I thought you should have a chance of hearing it, that’s all, love”

“Okay2

That was all he said, but as the programme went on, and the old men spoke about blood on fresh snow, brains on a backpack, I took his hand and passed him the same tissue box I had needed. Chalky’s comments about Mike brought the first sobs, and I suddenly had a broken man in my arms.

The girls were good, as with only a couple of peeks in through the living door to see how we were doing, they left us alone. I sat with Sparky till gone eleven, and he made no argument at all when I insisted he use the space in the back yard to sleep. I didn’t feel safe letting him go off alone, and my relief was huge when I found him still there in the morning, and still breathing and able to eat breakfast with us.

“Sorry about last night, woman”

“Oh, sod off. I am still worried I did the wrong thing, showing you that”

He put a hand on my forearm, as we sat at the big table.

“No, Debbie. Just holding you to that promise, isn’t it? You ever go over there, you see if you can take me, okay? Got to go and say… I was going to say, pay my respects, isn’t it, but in the circumstances, be nice to just say hello to her. Wish I could have done that… Well. You understand”

I did, and if Bert had ever had a job that needed doing, I would have done so, but his work was almost entirely South Wales, and the opportunity never arose.

That television show turned out to be the equivalent of the Elliott book, as far as I was concerned. Stevie Elliott would have shown me that I hadn’t been the only one to suffer, if I hadn’t met Benny and the others in Mersey View, not to mention Tiff and Charlie. The telly programme let me see Dad in a new light, or rather a clearer one, and I could see some of my Dad in my builder.

I also saw myself, my inability to hold and be held, to love, and those impossibilities were almost identical with what war had done to Sparky, to Dad, and to my surgeon. The answer was clear to me, and it was a simple one: keep giving.

I just wished so many people weren’t so determined to drag down the shitty side of the balance.

Another cycle of the seasons, another set of exams, and another set of rituals, as we hit the mountains, Gemma looking after the two agoraphobes, and the Christmas observation in the usual place.

We didn’t go to the clubhouse for the New Year, though, as the mood simply wasn’t there, so soon as it was after Serena and her mother had been cremated.

Not leaving the last chapter's hand grenade to fester.

CHAPTER 60
The year had been a decent one, all told, and I was looking forward to the usual festivities, even without Malcolm and Graham’s presence. For once, I had not only the Christmas Day off but Boxing Day as well, and some sad man without a life had actually volunteered to cover New Year’s Day for me. My plans took a slight hit when Heidi dropped in to sort a couple of things at the end of November, those ‘things’ actually being Serena and Alicia. The four of us adjourned to the dining room as soon as Paul turned up with Nita, which I hadn’t been expecting. As I was sorting out a tray of drinks for us all, the kitchen door banged, and it was Kim.

“They here, then?”

“Sorry?”

“The women and our copper, Deb. For the meeting?”

“Yeah, three of them here, but…?”

The girl grinned.

“Sub-contracting I am, now! Hang on, and I’ll grab another tray”

I led her through to the dining room, and noticed no surprise on any of our visitors; faces. Nita grinned at my obvious confusion, and started passing round the tea.

“Kim’s been doing some work for us, Debbie. Observation stuff”

It started to make sense at last.

“Girls’ parents? Meetings in the Olive?”

Heidi nodded.

“Yes, absolutely. We’ve had a couple of enquiries from two of their parents, and it is about Christmas. Where they will spend it, to be clear”

Alicia was looking eager, while Serena just looked wistful. I watched them for a couple of seconds, before giving up my attempt to read their minds.

“What’s on the table, Heidi?”

“Ah, nothing surprising. Basically the same proposal in each case, from Alicia’s father and Serena’s mother: they go to their old homes on Christmas Eve, or rather the grandparents’ place in Alicia’s case, and they come back on Boxing Day. Two nights with the family, see if there are bridges that are possible to build. We wanted Kim here to get a fourth, or sixteenth, opinion on what she thinks”

Kim smiled, awkwardly.

“Yeah. Been watching ‘Licia’s Dad when he visits, yeah? Mrs Milton here, she buggers off so they can have some privacy, but doesn’t tell them I’m doing Secret Squirrel stuff. Same with Serena and her Mam”

Nita held a hand up to get her own thoughts in.

“Paul and me, well, we’ve been following and watching. Today is a sort of ‘shall we say yes?’ meeting, so I will say that I am not happy about one thing, and that is that Alicia’s mother is still sitting in the house. I have no real idea of what the grandparents are like. Paul and I have talked it through, and we think Serena’s side is an easy call, but with Alicia, it is a bit in the air. Two other people involved, isn’t it?”

I could see the problem immediately, so I turned to Serena first.

“How do you feel, love? About a Christmas at home?”

She smiled, and it was even more uncertain than her earlier attempt.

“Debbie…”

“That’s me, love”

“This, here, yeah? This feels more like home, now, with you, all the others. I mean, this is me, me being me, not like when I was, well, HOME home. But, like, Mam is still Mam, and I still love her, and… If it could work? Yeah. Like to try, I would, if you say I can”

I nodded, and turned to the other girl.

“What about you?”

She took her time thinking it over, which pleased me, as it showed that she was making a proper decision, not leaping at rainbows.

“Dad is being really sweet now, Debbie. Like those ear rings, yeah? He’s… This is going to sound bad, like Tiff’s Dad, yeah, but it’s not how I mean it. He’s got cuddly, and I mean affection cuddly, not randy cuddly. It’s…”

She tailed off for a few seconds, hands waving as she sought the words, then she grinned.

“What I mean is I really think he’s getting it now, getting me, that is, who I am, who I… who I’ve always been. Bamps and Nana Wallis, yeah, I think they’ll be okay. Not like Mam’s side, is it?”

Paul coughed for attention.

“Can I make a suggestion?”

Heidi nodded.

“Go ahead, mate”

“Well, quick summary, aye? We are all pretty clear that the two parents involved are sorted. We have two wild cards involved, the grandparents. Deb, will you be using your Vanover those three days, at all?”

“Apart from a last collection of bits and pieces early on the twenty-fourth, no. What are you thinking?”

He grinned, a little sadly.

“Not exactly a Christmas party animal, me. If I could borrow your van, along with some camping kit, sleeping bag sort of thing, I know somewhere I could park near Mr and Mrs Wallis’ place, the senior ones, that is. Alicia takes my number, and any problems, I get her out”

Alicia was staring at him.

“You’d do that for me? For us? Give up Christmas?”

Another wry smile.

“I can take a packed lunch with me. Get your friend Gemma to male me a hamper up. Some DVDs and my laptop, and it wouldn’t be that much different to how I normally spend a Christmas, if I am rostered off. I normally work my Christmases, so this would actually be more of a time off for me than it usually is. Get something nice to eat, watch a Bond film, what’s not to like?”

I bit my tongue before I said anything else, as my traitor of a mind wanted to suggest he take a particular Splott woman to keep him warm for the night, and that wouldn’t have been funny at all. Keep it straight, woman.

“You okay driving the van?”

“Yes. Insurance cover will be our official one, and I drove carriers for ages—er, you know the police vans, like a minibus with a cell in the back? Not a problem, love”

Nita was nodding in agreement, as was Kim, and Heidi looked at each of us in turn.

“So we just need the important people to say go or no-go. Girls?”

Alicia was nodding rapidly.

“Yes! Please!”

Serena smiled, and once again, it was a wistful one rather than joyous.

“A chance to be with Mam, real mother and daughter stuff? Oh, god, if it can work… Yes. Yes, for me as well”

Heidi gave a single sharp nod.

“Then we are go, as they say. You certain about this, PC Welby, mate?”

“Yes. Chance to help someone get sorted, no real choice, is there? What Debbie always talks about, obligations and that. I’ll be fine, as long as I can get Gemma onside. Only thing I have to worry about is local Officers so we will need to warn the Port Talbot nick so that they don’t wake me up at stupid o’clock. That, and getting rid of all the weight I’ll put on living on pastries and pies”

Heidi took his hand and squeezed it.

“You are a star, mate. Right, any other comments? No? I shall go and sort out the details with the two others concerned, and can we rely on you to confirm safe return, Debbie? Or Kim?”

I let Kim answer that one, her tone showing her pride at being involved as an adult in something important.

“Yeah. Debbie’s off on Boxing Day, and usual drill is for the girls to be dropped off at my café, so I’ll be open and waiting. Not a worry”

‘My’ café? Never mind.

As usual, the holiday itself appeared suddenly, as the days immediately before seemed to evaporate. Alicia and Serena spent ages primping and packing before their departure, and in the previous two weeks we had spent time in the City centre as my girls fussed and fretted over presents to take for what they had decided to call their first real Christmas. My two students did their best to avoid looking smug, as they turned up with their lads to take the same two rooms they had used the last time, while Kim looked even smugger.

Made it. Normal. Proper, straight girls, all three of us. I had memories of Cathy and Kim, separately, but united in their pain, their fear that nobody would ever look at them in the way they needed, Nell’s shyness and disappearance into her world of beige, and here they were, alive at last.

We saw the two girls off separately, with the plan being for them to rendezvous at the Olive on Boxing Day before coming back to the House, and a couple of large taxis dropped the rest of us off at the Smugglers.

It was another brilliant night, even though the music was still rubbish, and the only slight downer was Marlene’s insistence that none of us stepped outside until our taxis confirmed they were there and waiting. I had to ask, of course, and for once her bitchy persona evaporated.

“Yeah, love. Getting worse, it is. Filth don’t give a shit, and I hear it’s the same in Swansea. Open season on benders. Even getting to me, it is. I used to lock everything up, go out, check all the doors from the outside, then up the back way to my flat. Now, I go up the inside stairs after dark. I’m not a twink, not anymore, and that seems to be the target of fucking choice, but better safe than fucking dogmeat. So you wait for your driver to shout you, right? And your girls: any of them not got my number?”

“Two, love, but they won’t come out of the House. Too scared”

“Ah. That be Alicia and, um… Serena?”

“I am impressed!”

“Don’t be, it’s part of my job”

“Okay. Not them, actually. They are off home to their family for a couple of days”

“Really? And? Good news, or too tired to fight?”

“Both gone home in a skirt, Marlene”

“Fuck! You make an old queen smile, love! Hope for this world yet! Anyway, that looks like a driver over there. Happy fucking Christmas, my sweet, and keep doing what you do!”

We piled into our taxis and made our way home, light rain washing the windows, and once in, we all simply agreed to leave everything from shoes to coats where they fell and hit our beds. Gemma and Kim would be doing the whole shebang for lunch/dinner/tea/probably most of the next week’s meals, and the girls had agreed that Leo, Scott and Phil would be allowed to share the load, although Kim would be expected to disappear with her lover to his parents for the evening.

I understood Paul’s worries then, for I felt like a beached whale by eight PM on Christmas Day. Ye gods, I was full.

Boxing Day actually dawned bright and clear, Kim trotting off to open the Olive, having left Phil at his parents, and I began to set out the makings of a communal breakfast, my girls appearing one by one, starting with Charlie and Tiff, who looked slightly dreamy.

“What’s with you two? You look miles away!2

Tiff grinned, in her usual shy way, head down and hand up to her mouth.

“Just nice seeing how there are nice men about. Not really met many, have we, me and Charlie?”

The other girl sniffed, loudly.

“Yeah, and taken is what they are. Still gives us nice thoughts, though. As well as naughty ones”

Tiff’s eyes widened

“You are such a tart, Charlotte!”

“A girl needs a hobby, someone said, and I got mine. There tea in that pot, Debbie?2

“Yup. Quiet day today, girls. Alicia and Serena should be back by lunchtime, so we’ll have someone else to gossip about”

Lunchtime came, and with it a call from Kim.

“Hiya, Debbie. Got Alicia here, and Paul’s just dropping the van around the back of the House for you. Think he needs a shower. Any word from Serena yet? We’ll hang on here till she’s in”

“How’s Alicia?”

“Happy as. Want a word?”

“Please!”

The younger girl came on the phone.

“Hiya Debbie! Happy Chrimbo!”

“How did it go, love? They treat you okay?”

There were a few seconds of silence before she came back, and I could hear the breaks in her speech that told me that she was crying.

“Dad… Don’t know what Dad’s been saying, but Bamps, well, he was great, and Nana, she says, she… she says she always wondered, and now she knows, and she’s happy as long… as long as I am, and, oh, Debbie! Got… got my family, got my Dad, and…”

There were noises at the other end, and Kim came through again.

“Best leave it for now, Deb. Happy girl here, just not up to talking. Any word from Serena yet?”

“Not yet”

“Okay. I’ll hang up in case she’s trying to ring”

“See you later, then, girls”

She clicked off, and the phone rang immediately. I clicked the ‘answer’ button without looking.

“Serena?”

“No. Heidi. She not there, Debbie?”

Her tone of voice was telling me that something was badly wrong.

“No. Alicia is waiting with Kim at the café. Not a word from Serena.

“Oh shit! Can you talk to me, somewhere private? Somewhere the girls can’t hear?”

“What the hell? Hang on”

I stepped out into the back yard, and I realised as I listened that Heidi was crying/

“Talk to me, love. Nobody listening, all right?”

“Oh shit, Debbie, they are still searching the house. No idea how many were inside”

I found myself sitting on the wall where Sparky laid out his shelter.

“What do you mean how many were inside?”

She wasn’t just crying now, but sobbing.

“The house, Debbie. It got torched, small hours this morning. Brigade have just got it out. They need to know if anyone was inside. Have you not heard from Serena?”

CHAPTER 61
I went back into the living room and called over to Emma, who was nearest.

“Can you call the Olive? Your phone, or the house phone, don’t care”

I gave her the number, muttering apologies to Heidi as I did so,

“Get Kim and Alicia back here now, Emma. As quick as they can, love. Heidi?”

She came back on, and the background noises told me she was driving, or at least in a car.

“Yes?”

“Talk to me”

There was a bang at the back door, and I opened it again to reveal a smiling Paul, eyes slightly red-rimmed. As he saw my face, the smile evaporated. I held a hand up to shush him

“Paul’s just parked up, Heidi. Talk. Please. No---hang on”

I called round the room.

“Girls! All of you, please, we need some privacy, quickly”

Lots of puzzled looks were exchanged, including some showing real fear, and as soon as Paul and I had the room to ourselves, I switched the phone to speaker mode.

“Just me and PC Welby now, Heidi. Go ahead. Fire?”

His eyes widened, but he managed to keep silent as Heidi spoke.

“Yes. Fire, at Serena’s family home. It seems to have started at two places, front and back doors. Brigade are investigating, but they had a real problem with the gas supply, getting it shut off. They need to know who was in the place”

Oh fuck. Keep talking to her, keep using her name, keep her functioning.

“I’ve given Kim and Alicia a shout to get round here as quickly as they can, Heidi. Where are you?”

“On my way there now”

“How far away?”

“About twenty minutes, half an hour”

“Then you hang up, and we’ll see if either of the other two have heard anything. Concentrate on the road, my love. Call us when you arrive”

I hung up on her before she could object, just as the back door banged yet again with the arrival of Kim and Alicia. Both caught the message in our eyes, and stopped dead at the living room door as Paul put his work head back on.

“Yes, girls. Problem. Have either heard anything from Serena? Anything since Christmas Eve?”

Alicia looked terrified.

“I got a text, yesterday morning”

“Can I see it please, Alicia?”

She fiddled with her phone for a couple of seconds before handing it to Paul, who looked as if he had been punched, but read it out in as steady a voice as he could.

“How’s your Xmas? Mam being lovely. I even got shoes! She says mother-daughter Xmas is best kind! Gonna have slobby night jamas sofa cake and telly So happy!”

He stared at the phone for a moment, before speaking again, eyes still looking at the screen.

“Alicia, love, I will need to keep hold of your phone for a bit. Could you please write down the password for me?”

She nodded, and he pulled out his radio. In a remarkably efficient way, considering how his hands were shaking, he called his colleagues and asked for a search for any vehicles associated with Serena’s home address. As he clicked off, he tried to smile at me.

“I memorised it, Debbie. Didn’t know if I would have to rush over there, did I? Now, I was going to ask to borrow the shower”

“Kim said”

“Yeah. I can wait. Girls, perhaps we can get a brew on, till time to call Heidi again, okay?”

Nobody really felt like breaking the silence, until my phone did it for us. I hit ‘accept’ and ‘speaker mode’ in quick succession.

“Yes”

“Debbie…”

Shit, Her voice was worse than the car crash I had feared

“Heidi, who’s with you?”

“Nita’s just arrived. Oh, Debbie… Both of them, looks like smoke inhalation. They…”

There were noises at the other end, and I clearly heard Nita say “Okay, love, it’s okay. I’m here, okay…”

Her voice came on more clearly.

“Debbie, it’s Nita. Heidi’s a bit… hang on, girl. Excuse me, mate? Um, shock, I think. Thanks… Sorry, Debbie. Just speaking to a paramedic. Give me a few seconds and… right. Who is with you?”

“Paul, Kim and Alicia”

“Had Serena contacted any of you over the last couple of days?”

Paul spoke up.

“Alicia got a text from her, a happy one. I have secured it”

“Good one, Paul. Now, could Kim take Alicia somewhere else for now?”

The two girls were slow to rise, and I could feel the fear building in them, but they left the room.

“Just me and Paul now, Nita”

“Fine. Arson, clear as day. Both entrances torched, and there was no sign of the back gate having been forced. Only one car, or what was left of it, on the drive; no garage. Got details of the other one, Paul?”

“Called it in and asked for it to be put on the system as soon as they have the details”

“Good call, mate. Sit down, Debbie”

“I am sitting…shit. No. Please tell me I’m wrong, Nita”

She sighed, long and deeply.

“Mother’s room, Deb. Both in the same bed. Brigade says it was a really freaky one, not that much actual flame damage there. Something to do with lack of oxygen, but it still got hotter than hot. Looks like…”

Her voice went faint, and I caught some form of prayer, the words ‘Almighty and merciful God’, before she came back to us.

“I am really sorry, Deb, but I am finding this one hard. Brigade says it looked like they had gone to bed together, cuddling up. Not enough left for them to see if there was a smoke alarm, but it looks like the two were asphyxiated before it got… Before it got really hot. A mercy, he says. Paul?”

“Here, Nita”

“Where is the father?”

“Being looked for. Nita, I know you don’t need asking, but you look after our friend. I am going to start pushing the rest of the nick along. Anyone called SOCO out?”

“Brigade has. Paul… I am not feeling much loving-kindness at the moment”

“Heidi, Nita. Give it to Heidi. Now, I need to start pushing people along. Speak later, okay?”

She clicked off, and Paul picked up our landline with a raised eyebrow of enquiry.

“Course you can. It’ll have been the father, won’t it?”

“Not saying anything, Debbie, especially as it probably was. Now, do you feel up to speaking to the girls? I think they need a little warning”

I left him to do his professional best, and joined the clutch of young women in the other house, Rachel clinging to Emma and Patricia in particular looking terrified.

“It’s bad, Debbie, isn’t it?”

I nodded, slumping into a dining chair.

“I am afraid it is, girls. Really bad. There was a fire at Serena’s old home”

Several of them started weeping, and at Patricia’s “Both of them?”, I just nodded again. I couldn’t get anything else past the solid lump filling my throat. Kim could speak, though, as she cuddled a sobbing Alicia.

“Where’s her father, Debbie?”

“They are looking for him, love”

Three awful, bleak days later, they found him, still in his car, in a derelict shed by a disused quarry, the hose pipe still running from the car’s exhaust to the partly-open driver’s window, and a shitty suicide note in his pocket, blaming his wife for everything, and yet again I was sitting in ‘chambers’ for an inquest on a girl that should have been in the House sharing stories of the New Year party we didn’t have the willpower to attend. Needless to say, the findings were that Serena and her mother had been unlawfully killed, while Daddy Dearest’s departure from this world went down as suicide.

The Fire Investigation people had spoken of fuel and accelerants, of how it seemed he had prepared the front door before walking round to the back garden, where he had unlocked the gate, prepared and lit the back door and then trotted or strolled or however he moved round to the ever-so-ready front door, which was inside a porch and, as the back door went up, he lit the fire on the front one before simply driving away.

There was no CCTV in the area, but I wondered how long he had waited in his car, just to be sure that all was happily getting with his fucking programme.

It was not the best start to a year. That was Maisie’s comment, and if it hadn’t been for the tears in her eyes I would have slapped her, but I recognised her pain in time to avoid lashing out. The only good thing to come out of the whole pile of shit, if it can be called a good thing, was the funeral.

It seemed like most of the school was there, and I noticed my other girls were getting just as many hugs as what Serena’s father had probably considered ‘real’ girls. I even managed to persuade Charlie and Tiff to come along, to leave the House for the first time since their arrival.

Two coffins, two hearses, and one more small victory, as one miserable piece of shit had also gone, in that the service was all about Grace and Serena, and not that other name.

I was screaming inside at that touch, thinking that it shouldn’t have to take a death for the world to see who a girl is and speak her name, but at last the day was over, and we all had to settle down and make what we could of the rest of the day.

I sat in the House’s front living room with Heidi, Nita and Paul after that horrible afternoon was done, staring into space, until Gemma came into the room and knelt at my feet to take my hands.

“Girls have been talking, Debbie”

“What are they saying, Gem?”

“We are saying that we can use some sleeping bags and stuff, and squeeze in together. If you and the others want to go up the road for the evening”

“Up the road?”

She smiled, and I could see the maturity growing in her.

“You, Heidi, Anita, Paul… and, well, Kim? Kim. You go up and see Harry, or you get a taxi to Marlene’s place, and we sort spare beds out, and you give our sister a proper send-off. I can look after the place for tonight”

So we did, and yes we were more than tipsy when we got back. Marlene had known exactly why we were there, and a small room was closed off, just for us, and the next day was hard going as the hangover clung to my head and guts.

Nobody went anywhere near the other funeral, although I did visit the place a couple of months later to offer my respects in the same way as I had with the Parsons.

The night after our visit to the Smugglers for Serena’s wake, a boy got raped after he had left the place.

CHAPTER 62
I ended up in a daze for weeks after the wake, in an odd way. I functioned at work, with no distraction or concentration issues when driving, and I apparently managed to act human when at home, but all the time I was chatting about school and college, trips to the hills or to the far West, I was asking the same questions of myself, over and over again.

Is this worth it? How am I making any difference, doing anything useful, when a girl goes up a chimney as soon as she finds her family again? I found myself planning ahead one evening, working out when the last of my brood would finally hit eighteen, and I could pull myself back into my shell. I went all the way through January and into February assigning a departure date to each girl, as Heidi kept away and Paul kept his counsel limited to an occasional prod to take the urn out to Splott or other places of need.

Andrea’s death had hurt me, but Serena’s murder was a mortal wound to my sense of purpose, to my soul. Rosie and Carl tried to lift me out of that pit, Oily was as cheerful and, yes, loving as ever, but I remained numb to their support and locked in despair.

Bert made the first little crack, simply insisting that I come with him in his car on a working day when I was due to carry out some longer-distance duties. He drove me home, and simply instructed me to go in, collect my scope, boots and waterproofs and bring them and myself back to his car. Once I was strapped in again, he simply set off towards the motorway, saying nothing more until we were on the M4 and heading East.

“Been watching you, Debbie, and I am not a happy man. Nothing you’ve done, but I am concerned. Wouldn’t be a good businessman if I didn’t watch out for my employees, would I?”

He paused, and I grunted something meaningless.

“I know what you do when you’re off work, girl. Or at least I have an idea. Couple of other drivers have kids in that school, and they were at the funeral. Saw you, they did, and all those girls, so I will shut you up now and say that I don’t care. I actually DO care, but as it fits in with what I saw in you all those years ago, I mean that I care for what you do and bloody well applaud you for it”

He paused for a few more seconds.

“Had only a couple of smashes in my time, love, drivers who ended up dead or badly injured. Neither of them were their fault, neither of them were down to me, not the way the lads drove nor the deadlines I set. We spoke about that when we met the second time. I do my best to stop things like that happening, and my way is to watch my drivers. I am watching you, and what I am seeing is someone asking herself if what she does makes a difference, if it is worth doing. That is why I am taking you out, and off driving today”

“Where are we going, Bert?”

“Place called Slimbridge, in England. Wetland place. Be plenty of winter stuff still there, and there’s a lot of paths and that to wander around. Middle of the week it’ll be quiet, so you take your time, we watch some of the feathered things, and if you want, we can talk. Either way, it’s a lovely spot, and you get a day out in the cold but sunny. That do you?”

I couldn’t disagree, right up until I saw the admission price, at which Bert just grinned and pulled out a tiny pad, peeling off one piece of paper and handing it to the receptionist with his membership card. He turned back to me with his familiar grin.

“Guest pass for one free entry, love. Told you: I am a very astute businessman, or at least not that stupid!”

The young man at the till laughed at that.

“We’ll still try and sell you a membership when you’re leaving, love! Anyway, there’s a list over there of what’s about, and when you’re done, it would be nice if you could fill in the book next to it, so we can keep the list current. Enjoy!”

The place was an odd mix of captive bird displays, pools and vast sweeps of open land running down to the huge expanse of the lower Severn. I saw several new species, including two types of swan, Bert explaining the way they could be separated by size comparison when together and bill pattern when alone, and then added the smiling comment that as there were always loads of Bewick’s, and only a few whoopers, it was an easy job.. Masses of waders were everywhere, and I found myself perking up as my life list grew steadily.

“Debbie.. over there. See it? Flying?”

“What is it? Some sort of raptor… harrier?”

“Yup. Female marsh harrier; see the way the front of the wings look gilded, and bits of the head?”

“Yeah… my guide book’s spot on about the way they fly! Thanks, Bert!”

Another grin, and then a soft “Shit!” from him as he turned his eyes back to the outside.

“There, Debbie! Flying low…”

A large brown bird, almost a floating flight, and the guidebook’s words came to me immediately: ‘flight rather owl-like’.

I found myself whispering.

“Bloody hell, Bert! Bittern?”

“Yup. Only about the fourth I have ever seen. One of those birds you see for the first time, and you just know what it is. You are bringing me luck, girl!”

He turned his grin back on me after the bittern had settled into cover.

“I think if we’re lucky, we should look at the gulls over there. Never know; might be a Med among them already”

I found his plan slowly working, my mood lifting, and that suggestion was the key.

“Remember that day, Bert? Down by the Bay, you showing me the differences between all those birds I just called seagulls?”

“You have a good memory, love. Am I starting to get my Gypsy Rover back?”

I wasn’t quite there yet, but he got a hug and a kiss on the cheek as tokens. We ended up back at the main building after a superb day’s bird spotting, which did include a couple of Mediterranean gulls, and over a cuppa and a bowl of soup in their café, Bert wrote up his sightings in a little notebook, once again grinning as he saw my expression.

“Still not a twitcher, Debbie. Never will be, but I do like to know when and where I have seen something. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking ‘life tick’ for the bittern?”

I had to laugh at that remark.

“Guilty! And the Bewick’s, whoopers and marsh harrier, plus a couple of the geese. Good day”

He nodded.

“I bloody well hope so, love. Hope it’s done some good for you. Hard line from me, now: those girls you look after, they look to you, they depend on you. Your responsibility, they are, and that will sound like it’s a burden, but it isn’t. It’s a gift. Not many of us get the chance to change lives, after all. Now, when we are back, we sit down and we look at the best times for you to take some time off over Summer. I can sort you another minibus for that one, after all, and I get one of my drivers back on stream. Deal?”

We shook on it, and as we drove home in the early darkness of Winter, I thought it through. Yes, there would be a date for each of my girls to fly the nest, but it was also clear that if others turned up, I would be unable to turn them away. I was trapped, but trapped by privilege, the privilege od being able to offer life to others.

I perked up once home, and there were more than a few smiles as the girls saw my new mood. I started a new project, and while it also involved the girls’ birthdays and school plans, it was more a diary for the coming year than a set of eviction notices-in-waiting.

I realised, naturally, that I had to take an extra step, and so I fired up the bike on a day off and rode out to Heidi’s office. A quick call from the front desk, and she was there, looking drawn and clearly apprehensive.

“Can we have a quick chat, Heidi?”

“I have a meeting in about an hour, but I suppose we have enough time. There’s an interview room free over there, Debbie, so if you want to park yourself in there, I’ll get the paperwork. I had it ready for you”

“What paperwork? I am just after a chat, love”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. Come in and grab a seat, won’t take long”

She shut the door behind us, standing against it as I sat on the far side of the desk, for once not grabbing the seat nearest the exit.

“Debbie, I may have this wrong, but, well, I anticipate you calling it a day. That’s what I meant by paperwork”

“Sit down, my friend. Please”

She slipped into the seat opposite mine, and I reached out for her hands, noting how tired she looked.

“Heidi, I know what you were thinking, and, yes, I was heading that way. Not now, though. Couple of things changed that”

“You happy to tell me what they were?”

“Ah, first one was an old friend, talking sense to me, in a really gentle way. Took me away from the City, somewhere nice… No! Not like that. Just a friend, okay? Anyway, he set me thinking, and he made me look at everything more clearly. That was the first thing, and the second…”

Where had the tears come from? Sodding moods.

“Sorry, Heidi. Second thing was that funeral. All those school friends there, and they were Serena’s friends, and they were boys and girls, and they were my other girls’ friends too, and I thought for a bit, and what was clear was that if it hadn’t been for one bastard, Serena would have been just another face in that crowd, just another schoolgirl”

Heidi was staring at her hands, where they clasped mine across the little table, so I squeezed them.

“Going to sound smug, love, but that’s my doing. Our doing, me and you, and Nita, Paul, our doing, our difference for the better, How could I walk away from that?”

She sat in silence for nearly a minute, clearly fighting back tears, until she lost that battle, and let them flow. After a while, she started laughing.

“Look at the two of us, woman! Supposed to be responsible adults, we are! Anyway…”

She gave a much happier grin, almost back to herself at last.

“Anyway, I will need to go and grab some paperwork. Different sort, aye?”

I laughed out loud, tension broken, and my suspicions rapidly blooming.

“And where is this new girl at now, then?”

She laughed in turn.

“Um, She’s from Merthyr. With us in a temporary place in the City at the moment. Another Daddy’s Little Princess victim”

“And would she also just happen to be in the building waiting for me?”

Heidi’s face fell once more.

“No, love. I, we, we really thought you’d be stopping the work. I can pick her up tomorrow, though, if you’re okay?”

I left her office with a smile.

I owed so many obs; how could I have thought of ignoring them?

The new girl was called Maria, and two days after her arrival, another twink left the Smugglers and ended up in hospital.

CHAPTER 63
I walked into the back dining room two days after Maria’s arrival, and found my girls in what looked like a conference, and quite a serious one. They looked up, almost simultaneously, and then Nicky and Tiff led the new girl away. Patricia seemed the most sensible just then, so I looked to her for an answer, but when I asked her if there was something going on I should know about, it was Charlie who replied.

“Something we saw on the telly, Nana. That Alkies Anonymous thing. Just us in here, nobody else, so we have a little chat together. Hi, my name’s whatever, and I’m here because people at my school were shits. Hi, my name’s someone else, and I’m here cause Dad started buying me stripper’s knickers”

“This isn’t being, whatever, forced? Compulsory?”

Patricia did answer that one.

“No, Debbie, not at all. It’s just that some of us understand some things better than other stuff, or better than other girls. This gives us a chance to sort our heads out, share stuff with people who understand. Not shrinks, are we? Doc Thomas does that bit, but not the same as sharing stuff, is it?”

Suddenly, she was giggling.

“Anyway, one thing she can’t share with us, especially not with Gemma, nor Nell and Cathy and Kim!”

“What’s that?”

“Boys, men, even when they’re all pointless in cold water. Maria’s a lezzer!”

I looked round at the grins breaking out, and I simply felt proud. Bert had been absolutely right in his words, and these girls were indeed a gift. I did make a little mental note, though: watch the new girl when we next went to a certain pub. The lesbians there seemed to have come to a sort of acceptance of my crew, but I had no idea how they would react to one of the girls claiming to be on their bus. Ah well.

“One of you able to go and shout those three back? Got some stuff we need to sort, all of us”

Emma did the honours, and once we were all settled, I began.

“You may be wondering why I have called you here today…”

A cushion flew towards me, Maisie grinning as she threw it.

“Get to the point, woman!”

“Okay! Now, most of you have got your exams in a few months. I need to sit down with you and work out what you will be doing afterwards—no, I can see it in some of your faces, and no, I am not looking to kick anyone out. Maria, I will be talking about girls who have left, and the others can explain later. No, what I say is that people stay here until they feel ready. Still home for Nell and Cathy, even though they’re off at university, just further away than Patricia. Still sort of home for Kim, though she’s living with her boyfriend. And Alicia?”

That girl was smiling shyly.

“Yeah, still home here, isn’t it? I mean, Dad, that stuff, I’m hoping, but… I want to stay at school, where I am, cause it works, and later, if I get the right marks, well, university, I hope”

She looked around at the others for a few seconds.

“I know I am being really lucky, with my family, especially… especially after things that happened. I want to be HOME home some day, with Dad and that, but this place, you lot… I’ll always have two homes, and that’s special. So that’s me, what I want”

I was nodding in complete agreement.

“Exactly what I wanted to talk to each of you about. Not a date for leaving, but setting up a sort of calendar for things like getting your name changed, if that is what you want, sixth form and university for those it suits, jobs and stuff for others. But not all work and stuff, of course”

Maisie was leaning forward, eyes wide.

“The perving rocks?”

I found myself laughing out loud at that one.

“Yes, Maisie. The perving rocks. Maria, just to clear this one up, it’s a camp site with all sorts of huge mountains round it, but out the back is this big bit of rock, and there’s somewhere to sit with a picnic and just watch”

The younger woman looked puzzled.

“Watch a bit of rock?”

Several girls were answering that at once, and I caught phrases like ‘tight shorts’, ‘fit as anything’ and ‘you can see all the way up their…’. Maria was smiling more easily by then, and when she asked “Aren’t there girl climbers too?”, Maisie sighed, putting the back of her hand to her forehead.

“How would we know? Too distracted to look at unimportant stuff, weren’t we? So little time, so many fit men to ogle”

Patricia was the serious one, yet again.

“When are you thinking of, Debbie?”

“That’s the point, Tricia. I want to have some time with some other friends as well”

Maisie perked up again.

“The biker do?”

“One of two I have in mind, Maisie. The rest of you, Maisie came out to a do with me, and it’s the one I am thinking of. The other is the one run by Wildcat’s Dad, but the one I fancy going to is a really laid-back one in a lovely spot. It means a camping weekend for motorbikers, with live rock music, silly games and a lot of very silly and drunk people, smiling drunk, not nasty drunk. Yes, Maisie? Got your hand up? Want to share some memories?”

“Yeah, and it’s got its own perving, cause they tie lads out on the grass with no clothes on at all”

Tricia was staring at her, open-mouthed.

“You are insatiable!”

“Well, like I said: so many backsides to ogle, so little time”

A pause for effect, before she added, “But it’s frontsides there!”

I looked at Maria, who was shaking her head.

“You getting the idea now? Yes, Gemma?”

“I’ll be busy over the Summer, so if… I can look after… Charlie? Tiff? You want to go with Debbie this time?”

Tiff tucked her hands into the pockets of her cardigan, but I had already spotted their trembling.

“Think we’d probably be best staying home again, Charlie and me, if that’s okay”

I left that one for later, and turned back to Maria.

“Idea is to do one of the rallies, probably the one in the hills, then drive up past Cathy and Nell’s university. They may want to drive up with us, or might have other plans, and I need to tell you that they are both in a, that they each have a man in tow. Nice boys, no threat. We then go up to the big mountains and, yes, the camp site is lovely. Anyway, that’s my proposed Summer break thing. My boss has offered to sort me out a minibus again, so there’ll be room. What we do up there is walk on the hills, maybe go down the coast, and there might be a music night on at a local pub”

Maria was still smiling.

“You talk about music a lot, Debbie”

“Oh god yes! Which reminds me: please tell me you are not into Country and Western or rap!”

“Um… Muse? That sort of thing?”

I shook my head.

“Never heard of them”

“Got some downloaded on my Walkman”

I was definitely getting old. Whatever the band might be like, Maria fitted in almost seamlessly, despite her sexuality, and I made the usual round of the shops for walking boots and sleeping bag and mat.

Had I really considered turning down the grants from Heidi’s people? How stupid had I been?

In a completely different mood, we introduced her to the difference a hot drink could make to those without hope, where she met Paul, and a month later, Dr Thomas added her to his list before mentioning he would have another doctor along by August to share the case load. That had brought some genuine good humour from him.

“Debbie, think of what you are saving the Government here. Places like Charing Cross, the gender identity clinic there, they have to pay London rents for a building, and staff and stuff, and here you are, covering all that for free. With nicer refreshments, as well!”

Once more, the year sped past, with another set of exam results I felt personally proud of, as Alicia became the fifth of my girls to make it to university, gaining a place on an English Literature course. As with Cathy and Nell, she had turned eighteen in my care, and that was the day Heidi dropped a bombshell onto us.

“It’s her father, Debbie. Wants to know what name she’s using”

“What for?”

Heidi laughed down the phone, far more happily that she had been able to manage at the start of the year.

“Wants to help her sort out a deed poll, is all! I really think we have bloody cracked this one, my love! That’s point one, of course. Other one’s trickier”

“In what way?”

“Alicia is an adult now. Not in our care, just like Cathy and Eleanor. Don’t worry; same arrangements at our end, but if she goes home, he gets the financial hit, not you. Not that you get a hit, but you know what I mean. That’s not the issue. He has asked us very directly what her holiday plans are”

“Oh. What exactly has he asked?”

“Sounds like the girl has given him some hints, nothing detailed, about a camping trip. He wants to know if he can visit the site”

“Shit. To be honest… I don’t have a clue on that one. I would really need to talk to my girls, all of them, just to see if it would be acceptable. You won’t have told him where we go, will you?”

“Course not. If it helps, the more they interact with each other, the happier I am. Lifts my heart when I see a family sorted again. It might work well for them”

“Yes, but it is the other girls’ say. No promises”

We ended the call, and I sat there holding the phone as I tried to come to some sort of decision. As I fretted, Alicia came into the room.

“Was that Mrs Milton?”

“Yes, love”

“She said she would call”

I looked up at her, trying to read her mind.

“You know what it was about, then. The call”

She nodded, looking a little apprehensive.

“Dad”

I went to say something further, and she simply carried on talking.

“I told him we would be camping, and he said where, and I said I couldn’t tell him, but I talked to the others, and asked, and they said it would be okay, and it would mean he could see me with my friends, and… and I’m an adult now, so he has to respect that”

“Mrs Milton says he is sorting out a legal name change for you”

“Yes. Alicia Ingrid Wallis”

“Ingrid?”

“Nana’s name. Dad’s mam”

If the others were fine… Dear god, a less complicated life, please! I had to admit to myself that I was finding the idea attractive.

“Where would he stay, love? I wouldn’t want him in a tent with you. And how many days?”

“I can ask. Meeting him next week”

“Well, don’t tell him where just yet. Please”

Three weeks later, and Alicia’s name was confirmed with a piece of paper and an embossed seal, and four months after that, we were making our way out of Llanddeusant heading north, all girls very tired, and several memory cards, I was absolutely certain, holding pictures of the two men whose rally virginity had been recognised in the traditional unclothed fashion. We would meet my students at the camp site, but before that, Mr Wallis would be waiting in the car park opposite the Waterloo Hotel in Betws.

CHAPTER 64
I pulled into the Shell garage, of course, a little way short of the Waterloo, leaving the girls to watch the van and fend off any approach from the staff about free parking by promising a fill-up when I got back. I wanted to be absolutely sure it was only this particular Daddy Dearest joining us, rather than risk the presence of Alicia’s mother. I didn’t really believe that was likely, but that recent loss was still burning a painful wound in my soul.

I spotted him from some distance, sitting on the low stone wall next to the pay-and-display machine, a cardboard beaker of coffee or tea beside him. Just the one, and no sign of anyone else nearby;

I turned on my heel and returned to the van. As soon as I had topped the tank up, I asked Alicia for her final decision.

“Looks like he’s on his own, love. Your call, now. We can simply drive past, if you’d prefer. You don’t need to do this unless it is what you want. Yes or no?”

The other girls were paying close attention, but Alicia’s was apparently directed at her knees, her voice so soft I had to strain to hear it.

“Got to do it, Debbie. Please hear this right. Please. I don’t want to stay with you. Not if I can get my family back, I mean, and that’s the only reason I say… You understand what I mean, don’t you?”

“Yes, love. Absolutely. But you only do this if you are sure. Really sure”

She looked back u, eyes damp.

“I’m sure”

“Okay. We drive up the road, then, and everyone stays in the bus. I will talk to him, and, sorry love, if I get the wrong signals, we drive off”

“What if he follows us?”

I showed her my blade.

“Difficult to do that with a couple of slashed tyres, isn’t it. Won’t come to that, though. All set? Everyone?”

I got a chorus of assent.

“Let’s do this, then”

I drove the short distance to the hotel, pulling into their own parking area before walking back to the public one.

“Mr Wallis?”

He jerked upright at the sound of his name.

“Er, yeah? I mean, that’s me”

“Right. A few rules before we go any further, then”

“Oh! You the one looking after… looking after my daughter?”

A little more trust bubbled up in me..

“Yes I am. My name is Debbie Wells. What are you planning?”

“Not that much. I could only get a week off work, so no idea, really. Alicia said you are planning on doing some hillwalking and that. Bought a tent, and some boots and, er, well, she said you like music… so I brought my guitar… What are these rules?”

I suddenly found myself warming to him, as his nervousness was so open and clear to me.

“Pretty simple, really. You accept my girls as they are, all of them. You don’t ask questions about their backgrounds, where we live, anything like that. If they want to tell you anything personal, that will be their choice. And you don’t keep any photos with anyone in unless they agree”

“What if I were to say no?”

“Then I slash all your tyres and we drive off”

Suddenly, he was laughing.

“Shit! She did say you were a protective woman! I agree, then”

I smiled back at him.

“Trust me: you don’t know the half of it! I’ll be pulling out of the hotel car park, in a white Transit minibus tuck in behind, and we’ll get rolling. Been up this way before?”

“Yeah; my own Dad used to take me to a campsite by some twin lakes”

“Ah, we don’t turn off there. Past all the shops and keep going, long straight and the campsite has a ‘no dogs’ sign. Friends should be there already, a couple of six-girl tents up. There is a space booked for you, so if the site owner says he’s full, just tell him you’re with Debbie”

He insisted on shaking my hand, and just before I turned to cross the road again, he called after me.

“Debbie?”

“Yes?”

“Can you help me not stuff this up, please?”

I nodded, and returned to the van, Alicia’s eyes not the only ones burning into me.

“Think we’re on a winner there, love. Let’s boogie!”

Out onto the main road, and I checked my mirrors. One car only, one head visible. I made myself relax a bit, and started calling off the landmarks as we rolled through Capel Curig and round past Pen Llithrig yr Wrach and Gallt yr Ogof to the long straight, indicating early for the benefit of Alicia’s Dad. Over the cattle grid, and there were two of the larger scout tents as well as three familiar two-person ones, Pat waving happily at us. I parked against the farmhouse wall, disgorging my flock, and went straight into a hug with my old friend.

“Cathy and Nell?”

“They’re up on the rock. Seems they’ve been bitten badly, really got the bug. Who is that with you?”

“Dad of one of the girls. Sort of trial reunion process. Think he’s okay, but I will be watching. One word of warning, though: apparently, he has brought his guitar”

She winced.

“Well, Friday night is the usual down the Cow, so we can persuade him to save it till then. Any ideas for where you want to go?”

“Oh, Pyg Track then Lliwedd? Don’t want to terrify them, but gets us away from the tourists on the second bit, and…”

We carried on sharing plans, as we chivvied the girls into setting out heir own kit, filling kettles, and so on, and it was ages before I realised Alicia’s father was still sitting in his car. I walked over, and he wound the window down at my approach.

“Not got a tent after all, then, Mr Wallis?”

“Alun. Please. Yes, in the boot”

“Best get it up, then. Unless… nerves?”

He nodded, then added, in a very small voice, that he didn’t have a clue how to put it up, as he had literally just bought it in a Betws outdoor shop. I did my best not to laugh, and almost managed to hold it in, but I made a most definite snort as he brought out the tent, a Terra Nova two man that must have cost a fortune.

“AH-LICIA! RAY-CHEL! EM-MA! MAY-ZEE!”

Four girls were quickly at the car, two grinning and one looking suddenly shy.

“Rachel, Emma, Maisie: this is Alicia’s Dad. And Alicia, you already know that. Now, he is being shy, because he has bought a brand new tent, and he doesn’t know how to put it up. Let him do the work, but I am trusting you three to supervise him and take the mickey as appropriate. Pat?”

“Yup?”

“What was the plan for feeding tonight?”

“Got loads of stew and stuff in. Thought we could hit the chippy tomorrow”

I turned back to… Alun. Yes.

“Your payment for our services is a drive out tomorrow night, down to Bethesda for some chips for everyone”

“Okay. Do these girls know how the tent goes up?”

“No idea, have I? But I do know that Maisie used to do Meccano and that, and all four of them can read instructions, and those tents always come with a full set. Now, I am sure Pat has the kettle on, so once sorted grab a cuppa, and then we might just have a stroll up to the Perving Slab!”

I got a very puzzled look from Alun, but Maisie was already in full flow. Her nerves clearly having evaporated in the time she had spent with me and the others.

“It’s a place where they do all rock climbing stuff, and Pat says that Cathy and bell are up there with their boyfriends, and… well, Debbie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Should I explain why we call it the Perving Slab?”

“Place where some of my girls like to go to watch the climbers, and especially the very fit ones in tight shorts and no shirts”

“Ah…”

I had a suspicion I might just have pushed him a little too far, too early.

“Maisie?”

“Yes, Nana?”

“Could you girls sort out the tent? I think I need to have a little stroll with Alun here”

“No problem!”

I took him over to Pat’s little field kitchen.

“Pat, Alun. Alicia’s Dad, my very old friend, or at least long-term one, before she slaps me. Got some tea ready, love? We need a little chat, just me and Alun”

She quickly sorted us a couple of mugs, and I led him past the house to the ladder style over the wall to the old track, where we found an outcrop to sit on, the mountains soaring around us.

“Sorry about that, Alun. Hitting you with so much”

He was staring at his tea intently.

“Perving Slab. Is that the way she, well, swings?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. Most of my girls are straight, but one or two I’m not sure about, and one says she isn’t. Alicia will tell us when she feels it’s right to do so. Not going to push her”

“She said a lot about you, Debbie. At Christmas. And yes, I do know what happened to the other girl. Please believe me that I am not like that”

I stared hard at him, but could see no signs of him simply saying what he thought I wanted to hear.

“And Alicia’s mother? How is she?”

He winced.

“Yes, well. We all make mistakes in our lives, and I am just trying to put one of mine right. What do I do if she starts, you know; if she brings a boy home?”

“Do you love your child, Alun?”

“Oh god, yes!”

“Do you love your daughter?”

He looked down.

“I am learning how to, slowly”

“Good answer, Alun. Slowly and steadily, but please give her some smiles this week”

He turned to look at me, once again.

“She said that you were a fierce woman, Debbie Wells. She also said you were more full of love than anyone she had ever met. Thank you”

I turned it into a joke, or tried to.

“She doesn’t know she’s on dishes duty tonight, then! Come on; your tent should be up by now”

Yes, it was, and no, my students weren’t back, and so we made a procession to the appropriate lumps of rock opposite the slab, and my girls giggled and joked, especially after we spotted four familiar faces halfway up, which led to jokes about Nell having her top on, as well as some extremely extended word play on the words ‘point’ and ‘pointless’.

The quartet were soon down with us, introductions made and squealing people being taken up the easier bits at the end of ropes, including Alun, before we all descended to the site once more, and a solid meal of instant mash and stew.

He did actually have a guitar with him, and to my surprise, he wasn’t bad. Not up to Peter’s standard, but then Peter was a pro; Alun was a strummer and singer, but he knew more than a few songs that we could all join in with, and we ended up with other campers wandering over to join in.

We did go up the Pyg Track to the Snowdon summit, all apart from the student quartet, who just had to go across Crib Goch, to nobody’s great surprise. What did surprise me was that Pat insisted on going along with them, seeming far more cheerful than she had on certain other days. We regrouped at the summit station, grabbing a cuppa each before the traditional queue-up-the-steps for the summit itself and then the shuffle down the awkward bits of the Watkin Path until we could start the final climb to the twin summits of Y Lliwedd, the numbers of fellow walkers dropping off steadily as we moved off the tourist motorways, just as I had hoped. There was an odd little cloud of flying insects on the first of the two tops, and I walked a little away from them, revelling in the thousand-foot drop in front of me as I watched a long line of people in the distance making their own crossings of Crib Goch. Alun came over to me, the top of his T-shirt soaked in sweat, strands of hair glued to his forehead.

“How much further, Debbie? Not used to this, am I?”

“Ah, another top, no real problem, then round the back of that little one, and… see the track down there by the lake? Along that to the car park again. Cup of tea and back to the site. You doing okay?”

He gave me a slightly twisted smile.

“Not used to anything here, Debbie. Not the hills, I’m sure you can tell, but, well, watching my daughter, with her friends. Not used to that. Not used to feeling so bloody stupid”

“Stupid? What for?”

“Not seeing her earlier, Debbie. I must have been blind. She’s right there, now. Just another teenage girl”

“Young woman, now, Alun”

He looked at me, giving me a sharp nod.

“Absolutely. No room for doubt there. Now, are you able to help me get it right from now on?”

Sod it. He got a hug, and after we had straggled over the last two little rises and the rough path down to rejoin that tourist motorway once more, he ended up walking to the car park beside Alicia, hand in hand.

CHAPTER 65
The next few days blessed us with amazing weather, and we ticked several of my boxes including the traverse of the Glyders and down to the campsite, starting from Pen y Pass, by way of Cwmffynnon. I drove everyone round to the car park in the minibus, Alun driving me back afterwards to collect the larger vehicle. Pat had offered, but I wanted to allow Alicia’s father a chance for a chat, as I suspected he wanted one. We set off from the tents after a cup of tea and a change into softer footwear, and he spoke steadily as he drove.

“Important few days, this. Eyes opening steadily, they are, so I am not going to pretend I am Superdad. Really feeling stupid, I am, so just saying thank you”

I was about to chip in, but he was still speaking.

“Said a few things already, and I am surprising myself, because I had a son, and I loved him, and… you’ve heard all this before, haven’t you?”

“To tell the truth, Alun, no I haven’t. I have heard the opposite, more than once, and… and once, just once, I ended up with a badly bruised face when a loving father decided it was a good idea to punch me in it”

“Oh. What happened to him?”

“He is no longer a problem”

“What the fuck? Sorry!”

I ended up laughing at his shock.

“No, not like that! He left the area, moved away. As far as I am aware, he is still breathing. And bruises fade”

The visible ones do, at least.

“So what is she looking to do, Debbie? Stay with you? And yes, it works better calling her that. Makes more sense now”

“Her plans? College first, I suspect, but she wants her family back”

“She has that, or at least me and my parents. She’s got a place in Cardiff, she tells me. Bit of a trek from home”

“What are you saying, Alun?”

We had reached the little parade of shops in Capel Curig, where he pulled over, turning in his seat to look me in the eye.

“Been thinking about that, and it was your two girls with the ropes that showed me what’s what. Just like any other girls, aren’t they?”

“That is sort of the point, Alun”

“Aye. If I had had a son, he would have already gone off to university last September, and he would be there on his own. Those two, they went together. Alicia has been at school with those others she lives with, am I right?”

“Those other girls, yes”

“Yes. So as she is going to Cardiff, she is on an edge, a cusp, aye? Too far away to live at home, but close enough. If she has any trouble for being, you know, then she needs somewhere close by”

“What are you asking, Alun?”

He took a deep breath, letting it sigh out slowly.

“As long as I know I have her back, I can cope with not having her at home, if that makes sense. Can you, do you have space, if she wants to stay with you? I could always pay something towards her keep”

I couldn’t help it, so he received a hug and a peck on the cheek.

“What’s that for?”

“Being the sort of Dad a girl needs!”

He grinned.

“Still learning, though. Now, fancy an ice cream?”

“Eh?”

“I want to ask a question in the shop, and shopkeepers generally react better to paying customers”

“Go on, then. If they have one of those cider lollies, it would be good”

“Will do. Back in a couple of minutes”

The requested treat came back with him, and once we had finished, we continued round to the Pen y Pass car park and collected the buss, Alun looking smug throughout. I didn’t press matters, as I was worried he was still a little fragile, as well as concerned that my little gush of appreciation might have been over the top.

I found out what he had been up to on the Friday, as we were sorting the group out ready to head off for the music night. I was settling into the driver’s seat in the bus, about to do the basic checks, when Alun tapped on the window.

“Put the keys away, Debbie. Alternative arrangements have been made”

He pointed out to the main road, where a couple of minibus taxis had just parked up.

“Got the number in the shop in Capel, with the lollies. Girls tell me you like a pint. They’ll drop us off later as well”

“How much is this costing you, Alun?”

He grinned, and it was a far happier and more confidant one than I had yet seen on his face.

“Don’t care! Grab whatever you need, and we’re off”

It was a guest night at the pub, with a little fiddle player in a flat cap and weird accent as the guest, and I got the usual comment from the landlord about girl farming and taking out a time share lease on a couple of tables. Pat stayed happy, Alun even more so, and I realised he had finally crested his own hill of worries about his daughter. The only time I saw him twitch was when she got up from her seat next to him and went directly to the ladies’ toilet, but as I watched, he simply shook his head before smiling again and turning back to the music. His floor spot was in the second half of the session, and it seemed to go down very well. At one point, he looked out at the crowd, asking if there were any Pulp fans in. After a few people cheered, he grinned.

“Well, this is sort of a song for my daughter, who’s sitting over there in the orange T-shirt, but the song’s title is the name of another friend, over there in the Triton one. Thanks for having me on, and this one is called ‘Deborah’. Join in if you know it”

It wasn’t really my sort of song, but lots of people seemed to know it, and in the end, Alun stood up, waved his guitar, and said “Thank you, good night and I haven’t been Jarvis Cocker”

When I went to grab some drinks, Alun joined me at the bar, looking a little embarrassed.

“Hope that wasn’t too cheeky, Debbie”

Owen had clearly heard, because he leant over the bar towards Alun.

“Dunno about Debbie here, son, but if you’re up again, I’ll save you a floor spot. Always like a little variety on these nights”

The rest of the night was just as good, the taxis/buses were on time and two days later Alun left us to our holiday, saying good bye to Alicia in a very different way to that first time I had witnessed, with laughter rather than tears. The tears came from her, after he had gone, crumpled against my chest and asking why Serena’s father couldn’t have been more like hers. I had been asking that question all week.

Our second week saw a slight break in the good weather, but nothing nasty. We did more box-ticking, and I was amused to find a hierarchy showing up among the girls, as those who had already enjoyed the local delights took time out to explain them to Maria, and that girl was quite plaintive in the end, as the memory card in her little camera was full. I managed to tease her one morning about making space on it.

“You could delete some of those pictures of naked men”

“Why would I have pictures of naked men?”

“Fair point. Or you could use one of the spare cards I just happened to bring with me!”

Pat was listening, and chuckling, and as Maria walked off with the little piece of plastic, Pat was getting her own camera out.

“People ask me why I take so many pictures of the same mountain, Debbie. You can guess my answer”

“That it’s never the same mountain?”

“Yup. Now, would you like a picture of all of you? Sun’s at the right angle to get the big lump into it”

Another photo for the stairs, of myself in the middle of all of my girls, and just before the student quartet went off to do some silliness, or other, I insisted Pat got a picture of herself surrounded by all of us. Those had been our words, our agreement, that if there were bad memories to fear, they lost their power when over-written by better ones.

Not just for Pat, as I had never had a better Summer since I had lost my parents.

Back home, then, and into the routine of studies for the girls and work for me. Alun never came to the House, but Ruth’s place became a regular haunt of his when he had the time, and Alicia started to bloom in amazing ways as Dr Thomas did his own bit for her body and her family lifted her up. Bert had been so right.

Such a gift.

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?”

CHAPTER 67
The evening news became a fixed routine for us over the next weeks, but there were few updates. What they revealed, though, left several of my girls shaking. I wouldn’t stop them watching the reports, but I made sure I was on hand if they needed me.

In simple terms, the gang would meet up near somewhere like the Smugglers, watch for a likely target, then jump him in as violent a way as possible and drag him into a van.

They would then drive somewhere else, have their fun, and dump the victim somewhere rural. One had been left naked and with a fractured skull near Cowbridge, and when the police had finally arrested them, there had been another victim in the back of the van, part way through being tenderised for their fucking delectation and delight.

Charlie and Tiff made another couple of recordings of the reports, and the former’s refrain of “Wonky eyed CUNT!” became very familiar in the House. It disappeared from the news after a while, no updates coming out, and I noticed the two girls fretting. Neither had managed more than that single trip outside the house, and while Tiff was usually in a dress borrowed from one or other of my charges, Charlie seemed to live in her night wear. I wondered if it was an excuse not to go out, a shield against the temptation. Their eyes so often followed my schoolgirls around, their envy clear. Just to be normal, another girl with too many books to carry.

“It can take a while, Charlie. Lots of cases, they said”

“At least a dozen, then there’s us, and…”

She started to shake, so of course I went for the hug, Tiff settling against my other side. I thought of her first minutes in the house. Is it safe here? Is it REALLY safe?

“You are scared, love, aren’t you?”

Both nodded, and I squeezed their shoulders as we sat together on the settee.

“Tell you what, girls. How about we see how this load goes first? Been charged, so there should be a trial. Nothing to stop another one if they get convicted”

I sat up a little bit as the doorbell rang.

“Tell you what, loves: no decision just yet, okay? See how it goes for the charges they’ve got now, and then we talk about what you want to do? Now, going to see who that is. Not expecting anyone”

I went into the hallway, making sure the chain was on before I cracked the door. There was a solid-looking woman outside, looking about thirty years old, collar-length dark hair, and in a trouser suit with flat shoes. She absolutely screamed ‘copper’ at me.

“Hello. How can I help you?”

“Could I speak to Deb, please?”

She had a local accent, and my impression seemed spot on. What did a strange copper, in civvies, want with the House?

“Who wants her?”

“Diane Owens”

“Hang on”

I shut the door in her face, heading into the living room.

“Girls, got someone from the Filth at the door. Going to go and have a word. If I don’t call in fifteen minutes, Paul’s number is by the phone in that book”

I went out the back way, making sure that I locked both doors properly as I went, and walked round to find the copperette waiting by the door.

“You Diane Owens, then?”

“Yes”

“Got some ID?”

She brought out exactly what I had expected, a warrant card listing her as a Detective Constable. Suit. DC. Fucking CID.

“Seems OK. What do you want?”

She twitched a little at that, then tried to smile at me.

“Could we have a talk?”

I left it long enough to unsettle the bitch, then shrugged.

“Café down the road. You can buy me a cuppa”

I turned to walk away, dropping the obvious hint that she could either follow or fuck off, and she chose the former. She actually did buy me a cuppa, and as she spotted a table, I whispered to Kim to ring home and reassure the girls. Copper in suit, not uniforms mob-handed in a van. I sat down with her, sorted out my milk, and stared hard at her.

“So what do you want?”

She looked at me with a hint of exasperation, and I gave myself a mental pat on the back. Rattled coppers were the best sort. Her mouth twisted a little as she replied.

“Well, for starters, I would quite like to know why you have so much hostility towards me, but I don’t want to waste your time. OK? So I will simply tell you why I am here”

Fuck that for a start.

“No. You are CID. I can tell. I want to know which of my girls you are after”

“Why would I be after anyone?”

Make her sweat a little more. Drink your tea, Debbie Petrie, and make her wait.

“Because we have a beat officer, Paul Welby. He’s our lad, we know him. You are CID. Your lot chase people”

“I am chasing nobody. Well, I am…”

Coppers; can’t keep a lie going.

“Knew it!”

“Not your people, OK? Look, here are my cards on the table. I am with, or I was with the Serious Crimes Unit—no! Let me finish. Please sit down!”

Serious Crimes whatever? Sod that! I stood straight up, ready to walk out, but there was something about that phrase that niggled at me. She had her hands up in apology, and I caught a little twitch, a change in expression, that sparked my curiosity. She was almost pleading at that point.

“Look, that is not why I am here. I was working with them, CID, on a big case, and that’s taken a new direction. I can’t stay with it, because I have an involvement in it that means I have to step away. I’ve been given a job that sort of stems from the case we’ve just finished. It is not chasing someone, it is an offer of help”

Gushing. Needy. What did she want?

“Talk to me, then, but make it quick”

She let a deep breath out rather sharply, and sagged in her seat.

“I am here to speak to LGBT people about issues they have, so that they have a face, a name to come to, a dedicated officer”

“We have Paul”

“Yeah, but this ties in with the case we have just tied up. There were a lot of victims, and we believe there may be quite a few more, people too frightened, or who don’t trust us, to come forward”

I thought of Charlie’s terror, and shrugged.

“Not bloody surprising, is it? Money bloody well talks, and your lot have always followed the money and the bloody tabloids”

Another deep breath, as she was clearly working hard to keep some serious emotion hidden.

“Not this time. Evans, Evans, Evans, Pritchard and Hansen”

Oh god. I settled back down into my seat, realising I needed to hear her out.

“You are talking about the beatings? The gaybashing?”

“And the rapes. I was one of the arresting officers”

I was so utterly wrong about her, and I felt my self-control slip for a second.

“I hope you beat the living shit out of them!”

The smile that comment brought changed her face completely, and brought her teeth into full view, certainly not as part of any form of smile I wanted to see.

“The minimum of reasonable and absolutely necessary force may have been employed in their arrests”

Fuck! So, so wrong. I laughed, almost feeling I might like her, until I caught her staring at my hands. That stare was so obviously a ‘gotcha’ about my history I nearly got up and left. Shit; I was starting to understand how stressed I was myself. I almost snapped at her.

“So? One word about trannies or drag queens and I am gone”

“You pass well”

Points lost for fucking tact, or lack of it, DC Owens.

“And that is meant to make a bloody difference? Why the hell should it?”

She shrugged.

“Doesn’t for me. Back to business. We suspect there are other victims, as I said, and we want them to see that they can have justice, just like any other man or woman”

There was definitely something lurking behind her words, something unpleasant. I began to wonder what else Charlie and Tiff’s gentlemen friends might have been up to; I really needed to wind my neck in and bloody well listen, just until I could see where this meeting was headed.

“We show them they are worth just as much as anyone else, that’s what”

I replayed that in my memory a couple of times, and my heart was telling me that, just this once, the words were meant.

“You really do believe that, don’t you?”

She looked down at her cup, where her knuckles showed a little whiter on the handle.

“I have my reasons, very good ones”

Click; the pieces suddenly fell into place, and I tried to keep my voice level as I asked the next question.

“Who are you after?”

“I told you, I’m not after anyone”

“Liar. It’s not one of my girls, I know that now. You’re after somebody related to…”

Oh hell. I looked hard at her, seeing what lay behind her ‘copper’ face, and saw need, as well as a depth of hatred I could fully appreciate. I wondered how much of that loathing was directed at herself.

“You are after that cunt of a councillor! Sorry, I don’t normally use that word, but, well, in his case I can’t think of another that fits better. That’s two of his little tribe you’ve got banged away, including one of the reasons I have difficulties trusting you lot”

The implication hit me as I spoke.

“Bloody hell. You said you have to step away? And you haven’t admitted it, but you are looking to lock up Ashley Arsehole Evans, so that means… Shit. Shit with sugar on it”

Bastard. Utter bastard. I softened my tone as much as I could, before I asked the single question that would confirm everything.

“How old were you?”

She shook her head sadly, looking past me and out of the café’s front window. A short pause as she made her mind up, then another slow, slow exhalation, as she clearly fought for control.

“Sixteen, Deb”

I couldn’t help it, and that word burst from me again, my decision made.

“Cunt, Sorry, but if you can find me a better word, I’ll gladly use it. Drink up. I have someone you need to meet”

Ashley Evans. She was after Ashley fucking Evans, and if that was on the menu then I knew two girls who deserved a chance to share the fun.

CHAPTER 68
I rose to me feet, nodding to her to follow me, and as we left the Olive, I gave Kim a stealthy thumbs-up. Across the road, round the back and through the various safeguards. I caught her gaze sweeping over the two cameras we now had on the back of the house, and eyebrows rising as I undid all of the locks. I shrugged as I put my keys away.

“Some people don’t like us. What can you do but follow the Boy Scouts’ motto, and be prepared?”

Into the airlock kitchen, where I made her wait before unlocking and partly opening the inside door and calling through the crack. I could see Micky and Chloe sitting with Charlie and Tiff.

“I have someone here to talk to us. She is safe. No threat, nothing to worry about. We’ll give you one minute to decide to stay here or go upstairs or next door”

I pantomimed to her to wait, counting the seconds before we went in. One last bit of advice to Little Miss Trannyspotter.

“No judging, no comments about passing, no staring. Got it?”

Into the living room, holding the copper in the doorway by the simple method of standing in front of her.

“Girls, this is Diane. She’s a copper, but one of ours, I believe. No threat”

Charlie looked, and sounded, less than convinced.

“Why should we believe that, Nana?”

This was going to be hard work, clearly, but I still felt that connection coming from Diane, despite that thing about my hands, which had bloody well hurt.

“I know, Charlie, but please, just this once? I have talked through it all with her, what she’s after. I believe her. Di, take a seat? Tiff, could you put that recording on, the one from the news?”

Tiff nodded, knowing exactly which one I meant, setting it running, and I waved at the space on the settee. Charlie sniffed a complaint, moving to another seat, as Diane took the space. Diane’s eyes went from girl to girl, clearly evaluating them, weighing them as girls. I was just asking myself how far they fell below whatever standards she held, when the senior copper started speaking from the television. Charlie and Tiff led the others in shouting abuse, including a particularly venomous “Wonky-eyed…” for that particular piece of shit, and I kept my eyes off the screen and on DC Owens as the chorus would down and her eyebrows stayed raised. Once it was over, I took a deep breath before turning to the four younger women.

“Switch it off, Tiff. Girls, Diane here arrested that lot. Show some manners now, OK?”

It was an immediate transformation, Charlie in particular slumping from her rigid poised-to-attack posture as if she was a puppet whose strings had just been cut through. She swallowed a couple of times, casting a quick glance towards Tiff, before finding her voice once more, the same one I had heard in the pub on our first meeting.

“Who nicked Pritchard?

Diane brought out a much tighter-lipped smile.

“I did”

Charlie’s voice was still trembling.

“Did he get fucking hurt?”

I saw Diane’s knuckles whiten once more, so I smiled at her.

“What was it you said, Di? Only the most necessary and appropriate levels of force, or something?”

That other smile, came out, the one that was all bared teeth and no humour at all. This woman could really hate, it seemed.

“I may have hit him several times with a steel baton after giving his face a full can of pepper spray, but that’s what happens in the heat of the moment, Your Honour”

Charlie launched herself across the room, her dressing gown flapping, and flung her arms around the newcomer, tears starting to fall.

“I am so, so sorry, Diane! Nana, I should know by now, aye? Not to doubt you. I am so sorry”

Tiff waited her turn in shuddering silence before asking her own question.

“Who arrested Joe Evans?”

“A friend”

She then added something that revealed far more of her humanity than anything she had said so far, not even the admission about her rape.

“He can’t hurt you again, girl”

Tiff was so different to Charlie in her reaction, starting to fall apart as I watched, and I couldn’t help remembering that Charlie had got out of a window, whereas Tiff had been held for a week. Her voice was so, so shaky that she had to struggle to get the first word out.

“Tell me he got hurt”

A very sharp headshake.

“Not that day, but I think someone else had been there before us. He’s not well. When my boss spoke to him, he pissed himself”

Charlie was coming back to herself, and she almost snarled her next comment.

“Yeah, makes a fucking change then, on the floor instead of on you, yeah?”

That broke the professional poker face, and I saw Diane sit upright, staring hard at Charlie. I waved at the other girls.

“Can you three, not Charlie, please do me a favour and go off next door? We actually have two houses, with a communicating door, Diane. Gives us more room, and two more alternative exits, just in case”

Eyebrows up again, which irritated me a little.

“Don’t look at me like that, OK? Some families don’t take to their kids being trans. When I say ‘don’t take’, think of the way you described arresting those bastards. Reasonable force? Necessary etc? Same here. Two of my girls gave up and went home, and I still put fucking flowers by their graves. That is why we do what we do, Diane”

“It’s that bad?”

“Oh, I would say you have no idea, but I already know you bloody well do. Charlie? Check the connecting door, please”

Once the girl was out of earshot, I whispered to Diane, “If you don’t want me to mention your rape, say so now. You OK with it?”

A sharp nod.

“Right. Stay quiet”

Charlie came back in, nodding to me.

“They’re all gone, Nana”

I took a deep breath, pretty sure I was doing the right thing, but terrified of the reaction it might trigger.

“Good. Charlie, this is Diane. She is your sister. She was sixteen. Di, this is Charlie. She was only thirteen”

The woman’s mouth opened and shut a few times, then she simply, and quietly, asked her question.

“Ashley Evans?”

Charlie’s response was far better than I had feared, a snarl to match Diane’s bared teeth grimace.

“Fuck, yeah. You too?”

“Walking home from a friend’s place, French study session”

“Parents out, taking a chance for a walk around the block in the dark, dressed… Dressed as I should have been if life wasn’t such a fucking pile of shit. Did he piss on you afterwards as well? Get rid of the spoodge and the shit? Sorry, you were born with a fanny, weren’t you? He’ll have put it in there, won’t he, the cunt?”

In the middle of Charlie’s rant, I caught Diane’s poorly hidden surprise at the word ‘spoodge’. Before I could calm her down, the girl threw that switch herself.

“Sorry, Diane. Really sorry. Not your fault, is it? Just, well, not used to this. Too used to being a piece of shit to everyone. Except Nana, of course. Sorry”

To my utter astonishment, one obviously professional hard-case simply moved over to Charlie and dragged her into a hug, her own eyes moist as Charlie’s tears went fully to work.
There was a sudden break in sobbing, as Charlie managed to explain how she hadn’t meant the accidental pun about the C-bomb, and then the two of them sat locked onto each other for several minutes.

As Charlie’s emotions settled, she pulled a little away, staring at Diane.

“What are you looking to do, Diane?”

The most extravagant of hugs, in evident teasing sarcasm.

“Put Councillor Evans away for as long as I can, assuming he is guilty, naturally”

Charlie was still able to push things, though.

“No bullshit, please”

She almost put her hand across Diane’s mouth to silence her.

“I know you can’t say so, but you want him locked up big style. You want him hit with everything you can find. Am I right?”

As I watched the woman, I realised that there was very, very little she did without thinking it through in detail, and her answer fitted that pattern exactly.

“Charlie, I am going to explain a few things, then I need to ask you some questions. As you are the victim here, I can do it informally. You can do it with Deb here, or in private. You can do it anywhere, or in any way, that lets you feel safe or comfortable. First, though, I need to explain a few of the rules that I am bound by. That OK?”

Charlie nodded quickly, then turned to me, her expression pleading, but genuinely so.

“Nana, could I be really cheeky and ask for a hot chocolate?”

This was going to work, I decided.

“Course you can, girl. Di? You want anything?”

Another type of smile, this one almost child-like.

“Could I have the same, please? Haven’t indulged myself in ages”

“Five minutes, then. I’ll leave the kitchen door open in case you need me”

I caught the words as Diane started to bare her soul and what turned out to be shame.

“I was sixteen. He threatened me, said he had a knife, dragged me into his car by my hair, drove to a quiet spot, raped me…”

Her own voice caught on the last word, and she took a couple of breaths before resuming.

“Pissed on me and then punched me unconscious. I was then visited in hospital. That is all you need to know. That means I can no longer take a direct part in the investigation, partly because there are things I am not allowed to know before any trial takes place. Things that relate to my own experiences. What I am doing, though, is a bit like one of those silly old films, where the hero has a servant passing him loaded guns”

That whole thing sounded so much like Charlie’s story, but the girl actually laughed out loud.

“Like in Zulu, where the two wounded men drag themselves around with a box of bullets?”

That one seemed to blindside Diane.

“I would have thought that film was a bit before your time!”

A monumental sniff of disdain from my charge.

“I’m a Welsh girl, and there’s singing in it!”

“I know the bit you mean. It always makes me think of that poster, with the eagle or whatever and the mouse”

“What’s that one?”

“It’s a great big bird of prey, all talons and sharp beak, and there’s this mouse—it’s drawn, not photos, yeah? There’s this mouse, and he knows he’s about to be ripped to bits and swallowed, so he’s just standing there, resigned, and giving two fingers to the bird”

I made a decision that this woman, so far at least, was my type of copper. I brought in three mugs of hot chocolate, setting them down with a smile.

“I remember that one! Says a lot, that picture”

Diane picked up her mug, holding it below her face so she savour its warmth and smell.

“Yeah, but we’re not like that anymore, are we? And I do say ‘we’, because both of us have been there. This time, they’re getting more than two fingers. Anyway, as I was saying, spot on, Charlie. I’m pulling out the boxes of bullets, the ammunition like, and I have some very, very good colleagues, friends, who have the guns to fire them. You can be one of the bullets, if you want. But it has to be your choice. Now, what happened after you were attacked?”

“Parents kicked the little pervert out, didn’t they? Mam and Dad didn’t want no nancy-boy pervert showing them up. I… Nana, please”

Charlie’s face said all I need to know, as her strength failed again, so I took up her story along with her hand.

“Charlie lived rough for a while. About a week, wasn’t it? Yes?”

A sharp nod.

“Then she ended up in a ‘relationship’ Sort of. A chaser spotted her, took her for a burger, warm up the poor street kid”

That word clearly meant nothing to the copper, and I wondered how somebody could go through life, in her job, in a sodding liaison role, without doing some simple research. My mood was going up and down, and I realised how stressed I really was. Calm, woman. For the girls.

“Chaser. Tranny chaser. Men who get off on trans girls. Usual grooming process, usual sequence of concern, affection, undying lurve, sex, control, violence and a lot of the time punting the girl out to friends or customers. Chasers”

Charlie found her voice once more.

“Yeah. He had me in a flat, bedsit place. I went out the window, in the end”

I got onto the settee on her other side, giving her a one-armed cuddle.

“She ran into one of my other girls, just by chance. Kimberley. She’d already moved on, but she hadn’t forgotten me”

Well, not in the time since we had left her café. Charlie leant into me.

“Nobody could ever forget you, Nana”

Time to give Diane the full FAQ spiel.

“Thanks, love. That, Di, is how Charlie ended up here. It’s what we do. Trans girls only, they get a place of safety, and we do our best to keep the chasers away. I vet their internet use, for example. Too many of the bastards trawl things like Facebook looking for victims. Every so often, I take a walk round the city, seeing who’s new. We also go out in my van, when the weather’s shitty, with hot drinks. I know the areas the street kids hang around, and the older ones know me, know what I do, so they sometimes send girls to me when they see me”

Diane nodded her comprehension, then asked Charlie another question.

“You better now?”

“Yeah”

“What happened after Evans had finished with you?”

“Man out looking for somewhere to let his dog have a sneaky shit, saw me in the bushes. Called an ambulance”

“Police?”

“Two of them came to the hospital, called me a whore and a slut, threatened my family. I’m pretty sure that was at least one of them you nicked”

More of that meditation look from Diane, which clearly indicated some sort of head-game to calm her down.

“Charlie, what I will need from you is simple, and that’s date and times. At some point, I would like you to have a chat with a couple of my colleagues, and get all that down on paper, so we can use it properly. Would you do that for us? For yourself? Oh, and changing the subject, while she’s not here. Joe Evans and Tiff?”

I took over again, before Charlie could shout the usual three words.

“That one with the droopy eye? Chaser. Trawls the night clubs, that’s where Tiff met him, or at least where she was first spotted. Very free with his fists, she tells me”

More of that blanking of her face, before she spoke again. I was right: this was indeed someone who knew how to hold a grudge, knew how to hate, long and deeply.

“Charlie, if I do this, would you be happy to give evidence? I fully intend getting Ashley Evans charged with my rape, and if we added yours it would really ice his cake”

Charlie only bloody refused.

“Nobody wanted to listen when he did it, so no, not like that”

Diane’s mask slipped, just a little.

“You’ll let him get away with it?”

Determination was coming back into the girl’s voice.

“No. What I will do, and I will talk to Tiff, is to wait and see you do him for yours. If you nail him, then I know he’s vulnerable, him and his family”

Another pause, and then Diane altered course.

“Charlie, this may not be an easy thing for you, but one of the things that has haunted me all these years is big men. I have never forgotten, you know? Big bastard rapist, sort of puts you off bulky men. One of my colleagues, though, I can’t imagine anyone gentler. Big man, gentle man. He really cares about people. He’s called Blake, and he is one of the reasons I am only just starting to heal, seeing him as something other than muscles and size. It might help you as well”

I saw Charlie work it out immediately.

“And you’re in love with him?”

Once more the professional mask slipped, and I realised that Charlie must have worked out that fact before Diane had realised it for herself. The smile that came out this time, was like a slow sunrise.

“I think I am, Charlie”

CHAPTER 69
She chatted to Tiff as well, and what else could I do but offer her a meal, after asking the other girls for their permission? I got the idea that Diane had very little in the way of a life outside her work, and while she showed some understandable reaction to the nastiness the girls had experienced, there was a real impression of grey bleakness behind her eyes. What had happened to her at sixteen had clearly wounded her soul in ways I suspected might never heal, but as she sat with us in the second dining room, over a tray lasagne prepared by Gemma, she started to open up. As Charlie and the rest poked fun, nicely, at Gemma’s taste in rugby players, I watched Diane slowly emerge from her shell.

I kept my silence on one subject, that of Joe Evans, because I was well aware of what had happened to him, courtesy of Marlene showing me the papers so long ago. The Sarah Powell beating, and as soon as I had heard the name of Diane’s old boss, I had worked out the link, and in particular why the lead copper had changed from a west Welsh lesbian to an Asian man with a broken nose. There were so many dark currents flowing I almost got swept away, but my girls were there, and needed me afloat.

Diane became quite a regular at the House, the girls really taking to her as she managed to avoid putting her foot in thins the way she had with me. Every so often, I would catch her vision go slightly out of focus, usually before she said something measured and carefully-phrased. So much about her was locked down tightly; it was a delight each time she let herself go, to relax just a bit with us all. I suspected that one of the reasons that my group accepted her was that idea of sisterhood, of another victim. Charlie and Tiff in particular swarmed her each tome she came, but I could see the same confused feelings in Nicky’s eyes in particular.

This was a strong woman, one with official clout and influence, and at the bottom of all that, she was simply another victim. The clincher, I felt, was that she was ‘just another victim’ who was fighting back, and doing it with steel and venom.

Definitely venom, and more than a little hard work at delivering it, which began to pay off. Whatever they had dug up on the five arrested men must have been huge, because four out of five of them went guilty, receiving healthy prison terms that Spring. A certain wonky-eyed Evans, though, ended up in a place for those whose contact with reality, as Patricia had acidly observed, lacked a certain level of consistency with the general population. There was another case, though…

I had been checking the news several times a day, as Diane dropped occasional hints, and then it came. BBC Wales evening news covered it, we recorded it to add to the other stuff, and the next time Diane came round, she got hugged almost to death by Charlie and Tiff. We all piled into one room, clustered around the television, as I started the recording. Diane-in-the-flesh was looking slightly embarrassed, as the screen showed the Asian man next to a BBC reporter, along with several other obvious police including Diane herself, looking smugly satisfied.

“We are outside Cardiff Crown Court following the sentencing of five men for a series of brutal attacks and rapes that caused a wave of fear throughout the gay community in South Wales. I am joined by Inspector Samir Patel of the Serious Crime Investigation Unit”

Charlie hit ‘pause’, and stared at Diane.

“Right, Di! Which one?”

“Er, that’s me, second from the left, in the blue jacket”

“No, you teasing cow!”

Stop it, Charlie; I made a little harumphing sound, and she calmed, just a little.

“Sorry, Di. Which one is HIM?”

“Who?”

“DIANE!”

“You mean Blake?”

She pointed at a tall and solid man standing two away from her, and I assumed that was for professional reasons.

“Tell you more later, yeah? Let’s see this bit; first time for me”

The Asian man with the nose was very, very guarded in what he said, but there was a predatory look in his eyes as he gave short and teasing answers.

“Inspector, are you satisfied with the sentences awarded today?”

“Well, Cheryl, that is a matter for the courts to decide, and they have done so. I am satisfied that we have taken five extremely violent and dangerous men out of the community they inspired so much fear in, and that they will remain safely away from decent people for a long time”

“Two of those sentenced today were police officers, is that correct?”

“No. Two of them were police officers some time ago, and had ceased to be such before these events”

“The local press has alleged that they were the subjects of disciplinary actions at least ten years ago, Inspector. Can you explain what that means in this case?”

That comment brought a much bigger change in his expression, and I saw him give the same sort of bared-teeth grimace Diane had shown me.

“Further investigations continue in this case, Cheryl. I cannot discuss them, for obvious reasons. We are, however, aware that there are other victims of their crimes who have not come forward, and we would urge them to do so. Justice has now been done in this particular case, and seen to be done. Adding a little more to the total would be very welcome. Thank you”

“Thank you, Inspector Patel. Cheryl Manning, BBC Wales, Cardiff Crown Court”

Once again, Charlie paused the video, and the girls, all of them this time, mobbed Diane, Charlie still gripping the remote control, until that girl sat back up and pointed it at the telly.

“Part two! Shush!”

This report was from the studio, rather than outside.

“The prominent local Councillor and builder Ashley Evans, who was arrested on Thursday by the Serious Crime Investigation Unit of South Wales Police, has been charged today with kidnap, rape and grievous bodily harm. A South Wales spokesman made the following announcement earlier today”

Very senior copper with loads of braid, outside a police station.

“Following a long and difficult investigation, Ashley Aaron Evans of Maescoch farm, St Lythans, has been charged with the rape of a woman aged sixteen. He has also been charged with her abduction and grievous bodily harm to her person. Associated enquiries continue”

I watched that blank expression pass across Di’s face for the first time in ages, and then she smiled, almost sadly, as she looked round the room.

“Yes, girls. I do know about the arrest, but I can’t say too much about it just now. You will understand why. We are just looking to get other people to step forward, and that is why Bevan Williams there made that announcement, and my boss Sammy did the other one. Will you talk to us, now, or pass the word around for anyone else they hurt to come and see us?”

Charlie took it on herself to speak for the others, which pleased me, showing how much strength she had regained.

“Sorry, Diane, but we had a chat, all of us. None of us, not one, we can’t risk that pig getting off, so we HAVE to wait. Let him get locked up, we’ll talk. Otherwise, not safe, is it? Not being funny, but, well, this is probably the only place any of us has been safe. Ever. Not that we don’t trust you---we do, otherwise you wouldn’t be sat here with us now. We just need to know it’s safe to go after him”

Suddenly, Charlie was grinning.

“So who nicked him?”

“Can’t say. But I might know him…”

Cheering all around, but Charlie kept pushing, delight in her eyes..

“Were you there when they knocked on his door?”

I found myself laughing now, as Di put on a ludicrously solemn expression.

“Couldn’t be, could I? I’m too involved as the victim. Anyway, they didn’t pick him up at his home”

My mouth worked before my brain.

“Fuck, not at work?”

The girls threw some paper tissues at me, crumbs going everywhere.

“Sorry! Sorry, girls, but Diane: please, please tell me you nicked him at work!”

“Not me, but yes”

“In front of all his staff?”

“Yup!”

The noise was unbelievable, and as it slowly calmed down, I saw that same nasty grin Diane and her boss had shown, this time from Charlie, whose tone was flat and chilly.

“Once he’s done for Diane, we go after the fucker together. Right, girls?”

She shook herself, then turned back to Diane, the teenage girl now back in her face.

“And that other thing, Diane. A certain young man we have now seen”

“And lusted after!” shouted Maisie.

“Na, Di’s got that job! So, DC Owens, we put it to you that you have to bloody well tell us how things are going”

Di sat and thought it through for a few seconds, this time without going blank, then smiled at Charlie.

“Well, you know full well it’s down to you lot I have found my courage, don’t you?”

Charlie, of course, shouted out “Bollocks” before Tiff shushed her.

“No, Charlie, Di’s story, and I get what she means. Let her tell it her way”

Di nodded her thanks to tiff, then stared off into the past.

“It was the day of the match. So we had a family dinner, me, my Mam and Dad, and Blake. He’s sort of best mates with my Dad, anyway. We’ve had the meal, and my parents are making all sorts of assumptions, leaving us two the settee while they take the chairs. He’s giving us a sort-of-cleaned-up story of the Ashley Evans arrest, nothing that breaks confidentiality rules and stuff, and he’s explaining why he can’t tell more, and asks if we get it, and… And so I say ‘course I do, love’ and they all shut up and stare, so I do the ‘yes I said it, no biggy’ thing, and we sit and watch the game”

Tiff was smiling now.

“You left a bit out, Diane”

I didn’t know where to look, as Diane simply started to cry. Tiff went round, climbing onto her lap to hug her.

“What did Blake say, Di?”

“Well… Thanks, Tiff. He… he just did what I did, slipped that word into his conversation, and of course I noticed, and my parents, and he stops, and he says, ‘About that word. I assume you—no. I KNOW you meant it, Diane Owens, and I meant it too. Now let’s shut up and enjoy the game’. And so we do, and that’s it, and I had a thought, and it’s something I know you’ll understand, because I was talking to Deb, and she nailed it.

“All of us here, yeah? All of us. All victims, all had shitty lives, and now seeing them getting better. Just need a push, sometimes, just need our eyes opening. You girls did that for me. And the thought I had, it was about how things sometimes need time to get better, and after talking to you, I can see not just that there’s a better future possible, but that I have got a future. So, thank you all. And thank Gemma for the treats. Would it be wrong to ask where she works, so I could get some of her cakes to take in to the team?”

Her control was coming back, and I really felt for her, as her damage mirrored so much of mine, and the request for Frank’s address simply made it worse. I think that was the moment when I really appreciated the comment I had first made to Charlie, about her and Diane being sisters. The woman rose to her feet, eyes a little red.

“I still have rounds to do. There are other people out there with wounds from those bastards, so if I can manage it I shall take a future along for them as well”

A short while later, Ashley fucking Evans went on trial for kidnap, rape and grievous bodily harm, just as the Revenue froze all of his assets. Nita rang the House that same evening.

“Can I run something past you, Deb?”

“Of course”

“Simple one, really. I have been digging, and there is a rape trial underway right now that I believe involves one or more of your girls. You don’t need to confirm that, just pass them a message from me”

“Neither confirm nor deny, that sort of bollocks, okay? But go on”

“There have been two trials, and I think your girls are linked to both, but are frightened”

“Go on”

She drew a long breath of the sort I knew meant she was working on her own self-control.

“Debbie, I know how well you understand what attacks like that do to someone’s soul; you more than anyone know far too much of the consequences. What you don’t know is what it is like to be in court about them. If your girls decide to go ahead, I can offer them some coaching in how to deal with the pressure a witness gets. I am not involved in the case, not even a police officer any more, so I am safe to do so”

I laughed at that one, because it was such a lovely offer.

“Bit better than the usual ‘thoughts and prayers’ stuff, Nita!”

Her voice dropped in volume.

“Debbie, my love, I have been praying for you since I first met you, and I continue to do so. It might sound silly, because I know you don’t hold with my religion, but in this case, well, I really think He has been listening to me. Let the girls know what I offer, and I will do all I can to help them find justice”