Dancing to a New Beat 78

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CHAPTER 78
I was back with the others after a surprisingly short conversation, followed by a longer one, with Simon, who was looking positively secular in a checked shirt and jeans, not a whistle of a dog collar in sight. That thought brought back others, of course, and he noticed. After we had finished our negotiations, he asked outright what had disturbed me.

“Nothing here, Simon. Just been a rather heavy time at work”

“Ah. Annie told me about the shootings”

“Not just those, mate. We have had a few other nasties”

“Want to talk through them? It is sort of my job, after all. Goes with vicaring”

I swallowed the bad taste bubbling in my throat.

“Last one was organised dog-fighting, Simon”

“Oh. Oh indeed. Can I be rude and request that you don’t give me any more details than I need?”

“Granted. I was lucky enough to be well away from that part of things, but…”

“You still feel soiled, am I right?”

“Yeah. Spot on. Sort of why I am here, with Charlie”

He smiled, and it was warm indeed.

“Doing a little bit of balancing the scales, Diane? We know about that over here. Can I be rude?”

“In what way, exactly?”

He sighed, taking my hands in his.

“Sarah spoke to me as well. It feels rather odd, sometimes: it’s as if my parish extends across counties. I know all about Joe Evans and his family. She mentioned other girls that he had abused. Can I guess that Charlie is another of them?”

I just nodded in agreement, and he continued.

“I know about his family as well, Diane. I know that you delivered them to justice, so in my opinion the balance we were talking about is already tilted firmly in your favour. Yell me…”

He was grinning now, almost as ferally as Sammy’s worst.

“How did young Evans react when he saw Sarah’s sister? I know what the Lord says about vengeance, but I remain human, and every now and again I succumb to gloating. I shouldn’t, I know. I hear he lost bladder control when he met Elaine”

Poor man. I hated doing so, but I had to prick his bubble.

“You do know he died, Simon?”

“Oh. Oh… Sometimes, I wish I was like Pat, with a bag full of coins for a swear box, but… How do you feel about that, Di?”

I weighed my answer, and I found I couldn’t bullshit him.

“Guilty, in a way, Simon. He should have been safely out of harm’s way, and I don’t just mean harm he did to others. Part of what has been weighing us all down, I suppose. I think it’s hit Charlie more than me, though. One thing wishing somebody dead, another thing entirely when it happens. She has been through an awful lot, but she is still a kid, isn’t it?”

“What are you planning for our Summer event?”

“Summer? The dance, music thing? I was hoping to get my team across, and some other friends, including Charlie and her carer, if you have space for us all”

He smiled, and it was back to gentle warmth after that little flicker of hate, and just for a moment, I could read his mind. He cared about people, deeply, passionately. He cared about particular individuals even more so, a sizeable proportion of whom were sitting inside with Charlie, and as a result, and in a perfectly natural way, he found himself hating, and he really saw that as a failing. I could see why everybody seemed to love him, and I recognised yet again that other people suffer in unseen ways.

“Diane, I have actually planned for that. There is a recreation field next to the river, and the local council have agreed its use, along with some portable facilities. It has become quite the thing, almost a local festival. We even have a couple of professional acts that have asked to perform pro bono, so expect a lively weekend. There will still be a private party, although ‘private’ can be interpreted very loosely. Now, I think we should re-join the others. Thank you for thinking of me this way”

“I thought it might seem like cadging!”

“Family don’t cadge. Can I ask if there is any of that frozen yoghurt left? Virginia has educated my palate more than a little over the past few years!”

What a lovely man indeed.

Steph’s neighbour Naomi Woods drove us to Brighton on a lovely early Spring morning. Steph herself riding shotgun in order to give directions, as it turned out to be her ‘alma mater’, or whatever the term is for a hospital one has used. I had taken a hotel room on the seafront, just a Premier Inn, so it was rather anodyne, but it was all I needed. My young friend was almost trembling as we rode down, and Steph was brightly cheerful in reaction.

“Got some CDs with me, give you a flavour of what we like musically, ready for the Summer. Do you dance?”

“Not that sort of thing, not the square dance stuff”

Naomi called back over her shoulder.

“You will do after that weekend, girl! Now, no nonsense or prudery, d’ya hear? I spent enough time looking after this one here, and she is a wilful and awkward baggage when she wants to be. Got your laptop?”

“Yeah”

“I have put a bag of Albert’s less violent films in the boot for you, along with some headphones. Got your rubber ring?”

Her what?

Charlie almost laughed at my expression

“It’s what Annie and Steph said, yeah? Sitting down will be sore for a while. Yeah, got it, Mrs Woods”

“That’s for salesmen and shopkeepers, Charlie. Friends call me Naomi. Enemies, it’s D.I. I believe you may be a friend!”

D.I.? Detective bloody Inspector? Oh shit! I did the usual trick of rewinding everything I had said, looking for ‘bringing the Force into disrepute’, while Stephanie bloody Woodruff just giggled, the cow, and as I did so, Naomi sneakily added the missing word: “Retired”.

They were well-suited, all of the sneaky sods. We had time to spare on our arrival, so Naomi managed to find a parking space near the seafront, where we ate chips and other things as we watched the waves rolling up the shingle. It was still early enough that Charlie was allowed to eat, so she made the most of it as the gulls screamed loudly enough to compete with the heavy traffic behind us. Steph as calm, steady.

“You won’t be in that long, Charlie. Di will be around for your return to the world, am I right, Di?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there for when you come out of theatre”

Steph nodded in understanding.

“One of the things I was lucky in, Charlie, having Geoff waiting for me. Annie had Eric, as well, and for me at least it made everything so much easier. Naomi or Eric, or one of us, maybe Shan’s Mum Kate, will be there for the drive back. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about. You’ve got a multi-pack of mints in your handbag; I slipped them in earlier. They help with the aftertaste when you’re sick”

Suddenly, she was laughing.

“Hangover from hell, it is, and you don’t even get the fun of being drunk beforehand! But then…”

She tailed off, which was strange, because she was never normally lost for words.

“Charlie, it’s better than that. It’s finally being real, being who you always were. Better than any night on the piss could ever be!”

Naomi was nodding in agreement.

“This young woman, I was beginning to despair. She used to sneak out of the house with her bosom visibly there, ride some silly distance or other, and then return home, only to go off to work with everything bound as flat as she could force it. We all knew, all the neighbours: we were simply awaiting her decision to stop playing hide and seek. Her husband, though, is a dab hand at relaxing those he meets. Remember that morning, Stephanie?”

The taller woman was blushing like the red traffic light behind us.

“It was just as Naomi says, girls. I saw him off to work, nighty and dressing gown, hair all over the place, HAPPY, aye? And she knocks on my door, so I answer it without thinking, and she just does that country lady thing with the eyebrows while I nearly made a mess on the floor!”

Naomi took her hand, smiling in a way that was possibly intended to be soppy but missed its landing on her face. Not by much, I have to say, but she was clearly a formidable woman.

“Rest of your life, though. Just as you have said to Charlie. I have spent too long, both professionally and in my private life, dealing with those trying hard to be something they will never be, COULD never be, never were. I watch Stephanie here, and Annie, and I see how they have ‘become’ nothing. Rather, they have ceased to try to be what they never were. Charlie, I see the same in you. One of us will be along to collect you both, and I suggest we now see about delivering you to your bed before I become maudlin”

We left her at the hospital, with long hugs and rather a few tears from all of us, even the old warhorse, and I was dropped off at the Premier Inn on the seafront, where I fretted, even after two long phone calls to my men and my mother. I was shitting myself, to be honest. All the sage advice, the wealth of experience, the support offered by our friends, it was all draining away before a cold wind of fear. They were going to cut her up. I knew it was the right thing, I knew it would heal her, but hospitals would never be my sort of place, even without my memories of Evans and Pritchard. Sod it. Booze.

There was a chain pub just up the road, but one look inside turned me right off the idea. I went back to the main shopping street that led past the Pavilion, trying to decide what to eat, and where, and I simply couldn’t face the idea of food, never mind its reality.

I walked across an odd park in the middle of a lot of main roads, and spotted a small supermarket. A steak slice and a bag of crisps helped, but swallowing was done past a huge lump where my throat should have been. I ate them walking, till I found a tiny pub in a back street, the place covered in all sorts of exuberant decoration.

Just a couple of drinks. Just to ease me into sleep.

There was the tiniest of patios at the front, barely enough room for the three picnic tables occupied by smokers, and I pushed the door open to find a rather scruffy place that went back quite a long way from its narrow frontage. They had a very plain bar, with pumps from a local microbrewery, and there was a free stool, so I ordered a pint of the ale and started people-watching to take my mind off Charlie.

It was all of about two seconds before I realised exactly how many of the clientele were obviously trans. That revelation was rammed home by the tall woman who materialised next to me and asked in a low voice why I was staring at her friends, followed by a declaration that they were a support group and not a fucking tourist attraction, that she could smell a fucking copper from forty miles away, and the final advice that if I was after a laugh I could perhaps fuck right off and find it elsewhere.

I held up both hands, digging out my conflict resolution stuff, and dumping it immediately back in its box.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to stare. Just a bit worried about a friend”

“And?”

“She, um, she gets her surgery tomorrow afternoon. Didn’t mean to stare, honest, but seeing other women like her, well, I’m just really shit scared about her. If you want, I can fuck off”

“This a trans girl? Getting GCS?”

“Yeah. Dropped her off this afternoon, going back to see her out of theatre. She’s only young. Just, well, a bit coincidental I came in here. All the other places were too full of loud blokes”

The woman laughed, and held out her hand.

“Hi. I’m Martine”

“Diane. Di. Yes. I’m a copper. South Wales”

“We’ve got one of those here. I don’t mean in the pub, but in Sussex plod. Another sheepshagger, but trans. Really sound girl”

I found myself laughing now, tension easing.

“Called Annie, by any chance?”

“You know her?”

“Only one of my best mates, isn’t it?”

“Fuck! There’s a spare chair over there; grab it, will you? We’ve got room at the table. You, my girl, are joining us tonight!”

I managed to squeeze in round the table as Martine made the introductions before she went back to the bar for more beer and multiple bags of crisps. She sat next to me on her return, took a long drink from her pint, and announced me properly.

“Di here is a good mate of Sergeant Johnson, the trans copper, OK? She’s not perving; she’s got a mate down from the Tavi and Portman for GCS, and she’s shitting herself with worry, so can we remember we are a support group and offer this girl some?”

Sometimes, I fall on my feet. The down side of their support was that I needed a taxi back to my hotel as I had somehow become rather refreshed.

I still woke at six the next morning, the day of Charlie’s appointment with sharp knives.

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Comments

I Bet That Pub Is In The Lanes

joannebarbarella's picture

The Lanes being the oldest part of Brighton and even when I was living there nearly sixty years ago was renowned for the number of pubs and restaurants within the precinct.

Charlie will be well-supported and not only by a rubber ring when she gets out of hospital.

Not the Lanes

Kemptown. It's the Marly.