CHAPTER 50
I stayed in my armchair until I heard the door shut again, and then Amina was there, standing at the living room doorway.

“Can I come in, Jen?”

“You’re in now”

“I am. Mam packed some food, but I don’t think it goes with your takeaway. Can I make a suggestion?”

“Go ahead”

“Stick Mam’s in the fridge, and I’ll nuke one of those packets of egg rice I know you’ve got. Any veg in?”

“Er, some mushrooms, half a bunch of spring onions, some tinned stuff”

“Okay. Give me ten minutes, and pour the wine, please”

“I’ll need another glass”

“I’ll pass you it”

I followed her into the kitchen instead, and she searched my larder. Sliced mushrooms went into my wok with some oil and a little five-spice powder, then two drained tins I’d forgotten I had, of water chestnuts and bamboo shoots, followed, before the microwave went ‘ping’ and she dumped the steaming rice on top of the vegetables to stir-fry the lot. Soy sauce went on, then a few squirts of Thai hot sauce.

“That’ll bulk it up enough for us. Let’s eat”

I’d bought too much, as always, but we did half-and-half special fried rice and Amina’s mix each, then divided the Szechuan duck and mushroom chow mein, with the sweet and sour chicken balls left in their bowl of sauce as finger food. Not the most elegant of Chinese banquets, but it was tasty and filling, and it would soak up at least some of the wine. We ate separated by the dining table, silent at first, and then, “Rae told me about your name, Jen”

That was the end of my courage and strength, and I broke down, yet again, as Amina simply rose from her chair to tow me over to the sofa, where she held me as I wept. Some adult I was.

I ended up cried out, my head on her breast as she simply rocked me, wordless, like an infant.

“Jen?”

“Yeah?”

“Brought some more films, if you want”

"Yeah..."

“One’s an odd one, but I like it. About a trans woman. Then got another old one, in French, but very, very twisty plot. And ‘Pride’”

“You choose”

I sat up so that she could do the necessary stuff with the TV, and then her first film was playing, and it was a while before I could get my head round it. A little dated, it had a lot of well-known actors in the cast, such as Miriam Margolyes and Ian Dury, but it was the lead actress I was watching.

“That’s a man, Amina”

“Yup. Playing a trans woman. Well, playing a woman, simple as. Not bad at it, either”

“Shit! Just recognised him as well! That’s the randy farmer’s lad from Land Girls, isn’t it?”

“Steven MacDonald, yup”

“He’s a bloody good actor, then”

“Shush. One of my favourite bits here”

The plot was pretty straightforward, where two schoolfriends meet up by accident, literally in that film, and one of them has changed sex. It’s a love story, and that part is a bit wish-fulfilment for me, but the bit Amina liked cut me to the core.

The trans woman has been out to a gig with her old friend, on the back of his bike, and as they arrive at her flat, he declines an invitation for coffee.

“Okay”, she says, and goes to give him a good-night peck on the cheek. He recoils, so she turns to walk away. He calls after her, “I am straight, you know”, and she stops, head cocked slightly, with a world’s worth of weary resignation in her expression and reply.

“So am I”

So many times I had been accosted by straight women who saw the facial hair before anything else, so many gay girls I had approached who had assumed I was either a man or a trans woman; that scene went straight to my memory and my soul, and of course Angela was there, simply reaching out to kiss me on a New Year’s Eve, and my tears were back.

Thank god that film had a happy ending. I was packed off to the bathroom to wash my face, while Amina produced one of the bottles she had sneaked in, prosecco, and she immediately started the French film, with spectacular eye candy in an occasionally nude Isabelle Adjani, but a plot so absorbing that I had to strain to follow it, until the reveal. The last part of the film is like sitting in an out-of control bus: nothing to do but ride it to the crash you know is coming,

We sat silent afterwards, and for my part rather shaken, as I worked out what Amina was doing. Hit me with emotional films; stay silent; let her company ease things; wait till I was more able to talk, all while letting me know I wasn’t alone.

We were on our third bottle of wine when she set ‘Pride’ running, and just before she pressed ‘play’, she grinned at me.

“Well, the old woman in this film’s already got an answer to her question”

“Which question?”

She put on a quavering voice and a Valleys accent.

“Where are my lesbians?”

So many laughs in that film, so many anger triggers, Bill Nighy playing completely out of his usual range, and out of his skin, along with shots of places I knew so well. We were halfway through the film before I realised Amina had me talking. Just little asides about the film, but not the subjects that had been breaking me down. I reached for the god box and paused the film.

“What are we doing, Amina?”

“Watching a film, drinking Italian fizz and trying not to burp”

“You know what I mean”

“Well, apart from that, I don’t know about you, but I’m doing what I can to support the woman I love. Simples”

Shit.

“What… where did that come from?”

“Me, I suppose. Been doing a lot of thinking, and trying to put things into order, so please listen, just for a bit. Can you do that?”

I nodded, no words turning up that made sense.

“Well, I worked it out months ago. Mam was right, Lil was never right for me. I was locked onto that dream I told you about: proper couple, aye? Home together, turn into Cardiff’s version of the Ladies of Llangollen, wandering around garden centres and organising flower beds and bed linen together. It wasn’t Lil, aye? It was just fitting Lil into what I was dreaming. Then you turned up”

“I was already there”

“Stop quibbling. I saw you, and Ange, and that was it, everything I wanted, you two had it, and I have to be clear here: it was envy, not jealousy. You, you as a couple, were someone to love, someone to aspire to follow. You gave me real hope, even as I was realising that Lil was, well, Lil. I mean, I’m really fond of her, but she doesn’t dream. I don’t know if she can, or if it’s like I said, that she’s frightened to”

She took another slurp of her wine.

“Italian Dutch courage, in Wales. Bollocks. Jen, I was devastated when Ange was… Ii know full well it can’t be anything as bad as you felt, or her family, but it was awful. Then I look again, and you’re still there, and, well, Mam saw it as well. I tried to force Lil into a hole in my life, you had a different hole ripped in yours. I’d just like to try, see if we can, you know, match. And while I was thinking all that, finding clever phrases that I bloody well rehearsed, I realised that I do love you, simple as breathing. How could I not, when all the world can see how deeply you care?”

I was trying to find my own words, impromptu, when, yet again, she simply kissed me, and things became wordless, right up until the moment she started giggling about us ‘matching holes’, the dirty-minded woman.

We watched the last bit of ‘Pride’ over breakfast, before she insisted we leave my flat and take the bus down to the Waterfront, where we drank coffee in the Eli Jenkins beer garden before heading out for a walk around the ‘Wetlands’ nature reserve, ending up leaning side-by-side on the rail at the end of the boardwalk, as birdwatchers peered and dog walkers came and went.

“Where it all started, Jen, this is, for my family. Tiger Bay”

“Valleys, me. Well, history on Dad’s side, but still all Welsh”

“Your accent isn’t that bad. I mean, you don’t talk about floods when asked a question”

“Sorry?”

“Oh, like ‘You from Swansea?’ and ‘Noah’, like that”

“Cheeky woman”

“But you love me”

A pause.

“Sorry. Joke”

“Then, shit… Amina, I need to work it out, okay?”

“I know, Jen. I’m really a sensible woman, believe it or not. I dream, but I try and keep it real. I just have one simple request, and please don’t give me an ark-builder as an answer. Could we try and work it out together? All my cards are open, now. Nothing left, nothing hidden”

Sod it. That time, I kissed her.