CHAPTER 44
The weather remained as shit as it always is in January in Cardiff, and we were handed another death from despair, once again not far from Queen Street. I would never get used to dealing with such cases, as they all seemed to happen almost in the doorway of such places as posh coffee shops and designer sandwich places.

What did cheer me up was hearing about someone I heard, a little jokingly, Our Lady of the Mugs’, a certain leather-jacket wearing woman who, along with varying numbers of teen girls, would come out in a white Transit holding a water boiler and a street’s worth of mugs, distributing hot drinks, and sometimes soup, in the worst of the weather. Many of us knew who she was, of course, but we kept it to ourselves.

Tom summed it up.

“If the Council get track of her, they’ll be demanding she puts up food allergy warnings and that. Stuff that for a game of soldiers”

I didn’t doubt him, and of course as every warmed-up rough sleeper was potentially one fewer cold grey husk to deliver to the morgue, we did our best to retain our selective ability to see things we didn’t need to.

I really, really missed Angela Hinemoa in those cold grey days of January and February, partly because the promise of warmer weather simply brought back memories of clear seas and the smell of fresh herbs under a blue sky. Amina was staying clear of me, which made things a lot easier, but her mother was back on her ‘just made a bit too much food’ schtick.

In the week before St David’s Day, Hira pushed a little.

“It’s Amina’s birthday next Wednesday. You’re off duty”

“How do you know?”

“I have my contacts. Anyway, St Dyfrig’s have rented us their hall for the afternoon and early evening. Going to be a meal for friends, then a disco. No alcohol, so we’re finishing early”

“How are those linked?”

She grinned.

“Gives you time to get down to a pub after, celebrate your own way. You’ll be there”

No choice, it seemed. I took some time to sort a card, but I had no idea what sort of gift would be appropriate. I could stop in for a meal, at least. Show my face, tick the boxes, and then slip away.

I didn’t dress up, as it isn’t my thing, so it was a semi-butch Jen who went, in a white shirt and a pair of men’s chinos that actually fitted me better than most of those sold for women. Loafers, though, not bloody lace-up bovver boots.

Bloody PCOS; I had to shave again before hitting the road.

It was only a short walk, and the place was already buzzing as I arrived. Ox was the first person I saw, together with another, well, person, and then Scott and Omar, Dai lurking behind them. Hira bustled over, pushing me towards what was clearly a table for the ‘inner circle’, which was a slight worry. As I said my hellos and how-are-yous to various people, Dai drifted across.

“Got a moment?”

I nodded, and he led me outside to the car park.

“You might get a few enquiries, Jen”

“Sorry?”

“You missed the trial”

“Not my thing, Dai. Had too many inquests recently”

He simply looked at me for a few moments before speaking again.

“I understand, love. Anyway, they all went down, chunky sentences, and there is more to come. Can’t say more, but what I can let you know is about that flat. Word has come to me----yeah, yeah, I know--- that they had two flats, one over the other. Ground floor was for their own parties and that; upstairs was for kids. A couple of them of them, the wonky eye in particular, would trawl fast-food places like Maccy Dee’s, the ones where you can sit down. Look for kids drawing out their drink, seeing how long they can stay in the warm. Usual grooming shit, with feeding them, offer of a warm bed in a flat to themselves, get them grateful…”

“Then they can, er, pay him back in kind?”

“Yup, And then he brings all his friends round for their go. That’s why they used the upstairs flat; harder to get out of”

“Sodding hell!”

“Anyway, we got word, from a member of the public. Water running out of a front doorway, the door itself missing. Someone had visited the place and pulled all the upstairs radiators off the walls. When you see Elf again, you might idly mention that fact, while stressing, of course, that such vandalism is disapproved of in the strongest way”

He was grinning as he said that, before adding, “And keep an eye on the local news. You’ll know what I mean when you see it”

We headed back in, and no sooner was I in the door than I ran into Amina, who gave me a simple hug of welcome, and the event proper started. It was pretty straightforward, a few comments from family and friends, the entrance of a cake, the obligatory chorus of ‘Happy Birthday To You’, and then a communal meal served buffet-style as a rather anodyne disco started up.

That was when I got dragged outside, as I had been expecting, for the second time, by Amina.

“I have been doing a lot of thinking, Jen”

“Same here, woman”

“Look… I started the whole thing to get that diesel to go away”

“You said”

“Yeah, well, I could… I’m not going to use the drink as an excuse. It’s just, well, when it started, it suddenly felt right. Then you opened your mouth”

“The way I remember it, you were pushing your tongue at me”

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other, then. Just… Jen, I really, really fancy you, and I think, well, I hope, you know, but I feel guilty. Too soon after?”

My heart was hammering, but she was right, and she was all too easy on the eye for me to think straight. I fell back on the age-old ploy of simply changing the subject.

“Only your Mam’s side here, Amina?”

“Oh, yeah. Not on good terms with Dad’s, obviously”

I found us a low wall to sit on, and gave her the ‘go on’ look.

“Well, I told you about Mam’s family, aye? Bamps and Nana Shah, their history? Well Dada and Dadi Khan—never, ever Bamps, Taid, Tad-cu, Mam-gu, Nana or Nain--- they were traditional sods. Mam and Dad were sort of an arranged job, and then Mam didn’t give him his little Mohammed, just me, and then I’m a queer, so Dad said the magic ‘divorce’ word three times and fucked off. Brought another cousin over to take Mam’s place, and she’s been dropping boys for him one after the other, so… So that side of the family are not really the sort of guests to make my day go with a swing”

Next thing I knew, she was kissing me again, and…

Sod it. It was her birthday, and it did indeed feel right that time. I kissed her back, properly.