CHAPTER 3
My life was painful for the next week, just for starters, and of all people Candice was the worst.

“Di. Love, I’ll be around, don’t worry. There are some lessons you’ll need to get sorted before you can get back to work properly, isn’t it? Now, we’ll start with this”

She held up a ballpoint from our stationery cupboard.

“This is called a ‘pen’. You use it for writing, and this is the end that makes marks—Ow!”

She took a step away, rubbing her backside.

“Hubby will get confused if he sees you spanking other women!”

I grinned back, and it felt good to be free once more, open with friends.

“If he gets confused, and he won’t, I can always de-confuse him!”

She snorted.

“Cuppa, girl?”

“Please!”

She brought one straight back, thanks to our urn, and perched on the edge of my desk.

“So, going blonde?”

“Yeah. We have some sneaking around to do, and it’s possible one of the principals might have seen me before. Need to know stuff”

“Ah. I’ll not ask, then. Doesn’t really suit you, though”

“I know. I’ll change back when I can; don’t want to spend months with dark roots”

“You’re from Barry; they’ve all got dark roots there!”

“Cheeky cow!”

“Later, then. Got some more of those kids’ home files to work through, so I’m thinking of going brunette, make them easier”

Our sneaking around opportunity came a few days after my dye had set, in the form of a hurried call from Elaine giving time, place and a quick summary of who would be there, together with the fact that she was unable to attend.

Shit!

“Blake, love, Lainey can’t be there, and it’s this afternoon!”

“Hang on, Di. Sammy? Quick word?”

“This be the sneaking around stuff she went blonde for? No worries; fill me in if you can, but if you need to go, do so”

That was really one of the reasons I loved my role, for our managers simply trusted us rather than needing a minute-by-minute record of everything we did. I grabbed coat and bag and scurried off with my husband to the car we would use. I settled into the passenger seat, and he handed me a small paper bag from Addison’s.

“What’s this, love?”

“Disguise, Supergirl! Lowest power I could get, but they’re big frames, change the shape of your face, or at least break it up”

Safe, smooth, legally (ish) quick, we were soon in Swansea and following the satnav directions to the postcode I had pulled off the internet once Elaine had given me the address. As the slightly posh female voice directed us, Blake started to chuckle.

“Saw a cartoon once, love. Car with all its doors open, and a couple of people cowering in a ditch. From the car you’ve got shouting, ‘AT THE NEXT JUNCTION’, aye? And the woman is saying to the man, ‘Told you not to get a Brian Blessed satnav’”

It wasn’t a bad joke from him, but it wasn’t his normal driving style either.

“You OK, love?”

“Just a little worried, Di. You sure you can cope with this?”

I waited till we were parked up before hugging him, leaving my immediate reply as a squeeze of his left knee. Out of the car, along the pavement and into Tawe Teas, an old place that was divided into a number of nooks and crannies. I switched on my phone, so I could look at the very odd photo Elaine had sent me, which was dominated by the woman I now knew as Mrs Woodruff pulling a very strange face indeed. That wasn’t the point, though, which was the slim dark-haired woman sitting behind her holding a book and pen.

“Blake?”

I showed him the picture as he looked for a reasonable table, and without missing a beat he murmured “Sitting in that little snuggery bit with the family group”

I spotted a table that would leave my back to the door, delegating spotting duty to my man, and as he sorted us out some sandwiches, cake and tea I cast my eyes over the group, the specs making no noticeable difference to my vision.

The dark-haired woman would be Annie’s cousin; four men, one older woman, two younger ones. She was going to be seriously outnumbered.

“Heads up, Di, or rather down. Just arriving”

I dropped my head slightly, and then watched the new group pass our table. Two huge men, one of them familiar…

Ah. Elaine’s uncle. Arwel? I could see where she got her size from. Ye gods, he was big, but so was the other man, who I guessed from his colouring was another relative. Elaine’s father? The Woodruff woman was behind them, but leading, in simple clothing, skirt, blouse, flat shoes, no LBD and stilettoes today: Annie.

She looked terrified, even from behind, as I could see her right hand trembling, just a bit, the knuckles of her left white where they gripped her handbag. She just stood there, shaking, until the dark-haired girl rose from her seat, walked to her and gave her a hug and a kiss on her cheek, with a genuinely warm smile. The older woman looked across.

“Annie, it is always a delight when you come to see your family. And as usual, you do it too infrequently. One day I shall not be here to welcome you”

She was smiling; dismiss her and look for the real threats, police head on and working exactly as Dai Gould had taught me. It was the men who worried me, because all of them were looking at her, and it was nothing less than a glare. Why did I have to leave my asp and spray at work?

The old woman spoke again, as the men muttered, one of them looking as if he wanted to vomit.

“You have brought friends, I see. English, I assume?”

Arwel’s laugh was frighteningly deep.

“Do I sound like a bloody Sais?”

Laughter from one of the other men. Blake kept his eyes on me, measuring my reactions, his own voice a soft whisper.

“If it gets nasty, Di, we get her out of here, whether or not it means showing out, aye?”

“Thanks, love. Keep it steady for now, yeah? Just dominance games so far”

The men were still arguing, and after a discussion about where everyone was from, and Arwel was most definitely doing the dominant stag role, or trying to. He introduced the other man as his brother, so, yes, Lainey’s Dad. Arwel kept that push going right up to the moment one of the younger men told him, effectively, to piss off and mind his own business. He settled his feet, and I knew where I would assign any notional ‘top threat’ in a ruck.

His voice was soft and controlled, his tone one of honest curiosity, but that threat was clear.

“You would have one girl against eight of you, and you are already using words like abomination? How’s that work, then?”

That triggered a really unpleasant outburst from one of the other men, and I saw Blake start to uncoil.

“No, love; wait. Still just verbals for now”

The slim brunette and Annie whispered something to each other, and I saw my old friend take a slow and deep breath before walking ahead and taking a seat among the women, who seemed to be far more welcoming.

I couldn’t make out the rest of the conversation, but it was heated, expressions of shock and sorrow chasing each other over some of the faces, others staying locked to ‘anger’. I was getting ready to uncoil myself when Arwel started. A deep voice, clearly audible, and I had a sudden urge to giggle as I thought of Blake’s satnav joke.

“My Sarah, Twm’s girl, she has a friend, a priest, bit of a papist, aye, but still a good man.”

What the hell? Oh. Elaine had warned me the family were god-botherers. The anger seemed to ease as he brought religion into things, so I made myself relax.

“His name’s Pat, and he left the idolatry behind for the love of a good woman. Because of him, I met my old trout, aye? He wrote a sermon for another incense-botherer, but it was true, and it was right, and it spoke to people’s hearts and souls, aye?”

The Woodruff woman had been to the counter, returning with a tray of teas, and he took an instant to sip some of his.

“He spoke about love, true Christian love, not your sweaty fumbling, aye? He spoke about God wanting Man, each man, to be the best he could, and then he announced the collection would be going to a charity that pays for surgery to cure deformities.”

He glared at one of the men, and I decided that if he was ever top threat in a fight, he would be someone else’s tackle, and not DC Sutton’s.

Hell; I was thinking with my married name now. I gave Blake a little smile of reassurance as Arwel prodded the monkey once more.

“Of course, James, is it? James, you would abjure and repent such actions as against God’s revealed will, manifest in His creation, aye? Have some kiddy in a backward country starve on the streets because Our Lord made him ugly, aye? Have your cousin kill herself because Our Saviour messed up in the crotch area, is it? Is that your family love, your Christian charity? Do you not see from her left hand that others see more clearly?”

That did it, and one of the men stood up shouting, before tugging another one up, both storming past us with angry mutters full of words like ‘abomination, ‘sin’ and ‘depravity’. The door of the café slammed behind them, and I let myself turn in my seat to make sure they had actually left and weren’t simply getting a run-up.

Thank fuck. Threats down by two, so far. Arwel was smiling happily now, and turned to the remaining two men.

“Right, now we have the open minds left, anyone for cake?”

The redhead came past our table, obviously for their order, and I noticed her give Blake and myself a quick once-over. I realised she was not just as worried as the two of us, but just as switched on. Careful, DC Sutton. I put on my sweet and light face.

“Darling, when did they say we could pick the duvets up?”

He caught on immediately.

“About four, cariad”

“Time for another pot, then?”

“Aye. You stay sitting, I’ll sort it”

Mrs Woodruff lost interest and took some cakes back over to their little group, and I tried not to make my tracking too obvious, but to my relief Annie seemed to be doing nothing more worrying than showing off her engagement ring. More conversation, Woodruff putting her own oar in this time, and the mood was slowly easing, till Annie put on a serious face and made some sort of declaration.

The reactions were mixed, some being open smiles while one of the men seemed more resigned than anything. It still brought a broad smile from Arwel, though, so I was able to relax that little bit more.

“Right, now that’s settled, I hear you sing, boys. I am a bass baritone, like Twm here, but my boy Hywel is a wonderful clear tenor, aye?”

Once again, thank fuck. I caught Annie doing something with her phone, Mrs Woodruff peering over her shoulder, and my intuition clicked in.

“Love, I think we may have more company in a few”

“Can’t see those two outside, Di”

“Not that. Annie and Woodruff were texting”

“That man called her Stephanie, love”

“Whatever. I think they’ve called in the last one involved. Annie’s been flashing her ring---oh, put that mind away, you filthy so and so!”

If he could spot bum jokes so easily, he was relaxing again.

“What you thinking, Di?”

“She’s called the bloke up. Fiancé”

“I’ll watch the door, then. I think I can remember his face. You got your phone?”

“What for?”

“Get a snap or two if it ends up going well; let Lainey see it’s all fine”

I smiled, and I knew there was sweetness in it, not the pretence I used for work but the genuine article.

“Blake Sutton, how I love you!”

He grinned back. “And why would I marry you if you didn’t? Now, heads up again. Someone at the door”

I got my phone ready, and two short, slim men walked past our table to stand, just as Annie had, outside the little snug. One of them was shaking slightly, and the other one just gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I had Annie in frame, and as she spotted them, I lost any remaining doubts I may ever have had about her nature, her gender and her sexuality.

Her expression was that of sun burning through a dreary mist, of a spring daffodil, a cold drink on a hot day, a salmon up a weir. Delight, happiness and love. There was relief there as well, but I caught her smile, and then, as one of the men went over to Stephanie, kissed her and sat down, it was definitely the one I had seen trembling.

He stayed where he was, and spread his hands in a very continental shrug.

“Yes, I’m English, but nobody’s perfect”

He walked across to the group, shaking everyone’s hand, before sitting down next to Annie and making a point of kissing her briefly on the lips. My respect for him soared: he had real courage. Obviously terrified, he still went straight ahead and stood up for my friend. The conversation then got onto music for some reason, and he passed Annie a small box, which proved to contain a wooden flute.

She smiled, she played, and the rest sang. So simple to write, so inadequate as description. The whole café went quiet, customers holding still as power and beauty and solid emotion rolled over us all.

I couldn’t help it, and when they had finished I started the applause, which came from everyone there, and then I dragged my man out of the place before I could make a fool of myself by saying hello.

We drove back home, not a word passing between us, no need for anything at all. Safe, surrounded by good people. Safe, and, if that smile on seeing her man meant anything, so, so happy.