The women waited for the performers to join them, remaining in their seats after the other audience members had cleared out. Baz tried not to think about those horrible brutes outside. The things they’d said to her… The accusations they’d made. If it hadn’t been for Madge, Peggy, and Carole, she probably would have gone straight home. She’d have spent the day crying, wondering if everyone thought such awful things about her.
But her friends had been fearless in their defence of her.
Peggy waved her hand in front of Baz’s face, giving her a good fright. ‘Yoo-hoo, Baz. Any chance you’ll be joining us?’
Clutching her chest, Baz exhaled. ‘Sorry, Peggy. Miles away.’
‘And?’ Peggy arched an eyebrow at her.
‘And I promise I’m here now?’ Baz replied, a bit confused as to what Peggy wanted her to say.
Peggy rolled her eyes. ‘Oh for heaven’s sake. It’s normally Carole whose mind wanders off on us.’
‘Oh, lordy.’ Madge shook her head. ‘What did you think of the show, Baz?’
Baz swallowed. ‘Sorry, sorry. I thought it was wonderful. Don’t you agree?’
‘It was … different,’ said Madge. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it. But very interesting.’
Just then, the door opened and a young woman with a messy blond pixie cut walked in. ‘Ladies. Hey, hi. The fellows will be along in a moment. Takes me less time to get out of character than it does them. I hope you enjoyed our show.’
‘If it isn’t Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Oswald Ptolemy Chamberlain Ulysses Kemal Johnson,’ said Carole.
The young woman grinned broadly as she raised her hands in surrender. ‘You got me. Except, out of drag, I go by Alexa – because I’d rather not have people associate me with that odious man. Lovely to meet you all.’
‘Likewise, Alexa.’ Madge shook Alexa’s hand. ‘I’m Mrs Dixon. These are my friends, Ms Trent, Mrs Ballard, and Ms Spencer.’
Baz smiled warmly at the young woman. ‘Pleased to meet you, Alexa. And you can call me Baz.’
Madge’s eyebrow twitched. ‘I will confess I am confused by all this. You appear to be – to my untrained eyes – a woman. Is that correct or am I just showing my ignorance? Apologies, I’ve learnt a lot about gender and sexuality in the last few years’ – she waved towards Peggy, Carole, and Baz – ‘but I still have a lot to learn. Are you a woman? And, I should be clear, I’m not asking what’s in your pants, only how I should think of you.’
Madge had made a similar speech when Baz first met her. At first, Baz had been so humiliated by the question that she’d wanted to run from the room and cry. She was glad she hadn’t done so.
Madge was a good woman. A mostly good woman – who sometimes did bad things. But only ever for good reasons. Just like the rest of their little group.
Alexa tried to hide a chuckle. ‘I am indeed a woman. My drag persona, De Pfeffel, well… Pfeff’s like a character I play. The other performers you saw today—’
The inner door swung open yet again and three men emerged. Clive was joined by a tall, chunky Black man of about forty or so and a slender White man who looked to be about the same age as Baz’s friends – probably in his late sixties or early seventies.
‘Wagwan, ladies?’ The Black man touched Alexa’s shoulder and flashed a charismatic smile.
Alexa touched the man’s hand. ‘I can’t stay, unfortunately. I just wanted to spend a few minutes chatting with the ladies looking into Eddie’s disappearance. And to thank you for your efforts. We all know how much the police will put into the disappearance of one asylum seeker. I’m just really grateful that someone is doing something.’
Clive accepted a hug from Alexa. ‘I told you these ladies were the best – didn’t I tell you that? They’ll find Eddie – you’ll see.’ Still embracing the young woman, he turned to face the others. ‘I can’t stay either. But you ladies talk to Blue and Di.’
Madge raised an index finger. ‘Now, Clive. We said we’d have a chat. If we agree to look into things, then we’ll see what we can uncover. If. But we can’t make your friend come back. He probably had his reasons for leaving.’
Clive shook his head vigorously. ‘He wouldn’t leave. I’m telling you.’
Alexa squeezed Clive’s shoulder. ‘It’s okay. We’ll figure something out.’ Clive blinked back tears. They hugged the two other men before leaving.
‘Ladies,’ said the older man once Alexa and Clive were gone. ‘I’m Keith – aka Bluebird Sofa. Most people just call me Blue but I’m not fussy. She/her pronouns if you’d be so kind.’ With a graceful flourish, she indicated her friend. ‘And this is Ron – aka Shady Di.’
Ron nodded. ‘You can call me Ron or Di, whatever tickles your fancy. Just so long as you don’t call me late for dinner. Any pronouns are fine – I’m not fussed.’ For such a big man, his voice was the same soft, melodic tinkle it had been when he was performing.
‘Lovely to meet you both. I’m Peggy. This is my partner, Carole.’
‘I’m known by many names,’ said Carole with a cheerful grin. ‘Atalanta, Teuta, Gudit, Lozen, Æthelflæd.’ She tapped her nose. ‘Some even call me Beatrix Kiddo.’
Blue blinked and opened her mouth as if to laugh before closing it again.
Baz leant across the table and offered her hand. ‘I’m Barbara. Please call me Baz.’ Introducing herself by her new chosen name still sent a little thrill through her every time she did it.
‘And I am Mrs Margaret Dixon.’ Madge folded her hands on the table in front of herself. ‘You may call me Madge.’
Blue nodded. ‘Clive said you’d help track down Sue Panova. Eddie. It’s very kind of you to help. He’s been missing the best part of a week now.’
Ron furrowed his brows, which had been shaved off and painted on. ‘This isn’t like Sue. I’m worried.’
Madge glanced over at Peggy and Baz before replying. ‘We understand you’re … reluctant to go to the police on this matter.’
‘Filth,’ squawked Carole.
‘Let’s talk about that. We know Clive doesn’t want to go to the police.’ Peggy waved in the direction Clive had gone. ‘What about you two?’
Blue licked her lips. ‘They won’t do nuffink.’
Ron touched Blue’s shoulder gently. ‘I trust Clive told you about Eddie’s background.’
‘We understand he’s been let down by our immigration system,’ said Peggy.
‘That’s putting it mildly.’ Blue reached up and clasped Ron’s hand. ‘Clive said you’d travel with us back to Deptford. Would you prefer to walk or take the DLR? Either way, we can talk as we go.’
The four women looked at one another. Baz didn’t mind – she and Peggy had their scooters, so it didn’t make much difference to her.
Madge inhaled. ‘Let’s take the DLR. It’ll be easier for you.’ She pointed at Blue’s left foot. ‘If I’m not mistaken, you’re suffering from Haglund’s deformity. You really ought to reconsider your footwear choices.’
Blue blinked. ‘Oh gosh. Someone’s got a touch of clairvoyance! No wonder you’re experts in finding missing people.’
Peggy cast a dark glare at Madge. ‘Show off!’ Turning back to Blue, she added. ‘You’ll have to excuse my friend. She’s a retired nurse—’
‘Nurse practitioner,’ Madge corrected.
Peggy’s eyes gave the merest hint of a roll. ‘—with a specialty in orthopaedics. Since retirement, she’s reduced to making diagnoses as a party trick.’
‘I see,’ Blue said.
Peggy stood. ‘Let’s get a move on, then.’
The six of them bundled up and left the community centre together. Thankfully, there was no sign of the thugs from earlier.
The group made their way across the street to the station and to the platform. With the entire DLR network being step-free, Peggy and Baz were able to roll right onto the train without looking for an attendant to assist them. They were at the end of the line and there was still almost ten minutes before it was due to depart.
Ron and Madge followed Carole to the front of the train. The scooters had to stay in the open area nearer the doors, so the rest of the group remained there.
‘I suppose you want to know more about Sue – sorry, Eddie. Edvin Marku.’ Blue leant against the window next to the door. ‘He hasn’t told us all the details of his background but from what I’ve been able to piece together, he came to the UK from Albania to be with his husband around a decade ago. When that relationship ended, the Home Office advised him he had no option but to leave the UK.’
Blue’s fair skin creased as she frowned. ‘Since his move to London, his family had become aware of the fact Eddie was gay. It was a sore subject, but it was clear he felt like he couldn’t go back. He said he’d have no life there.’
Baz nodded. ‘How long have you known him?’
Blue made a graceful pirouette, dropping into a seat then pivoting back to face Baz and Peggy. ‘Two years. That’s how long he’s been doing shows with us.’ She studied her fingernails. ‘The Royal Tea roster changes regularly. Di and I set it up back in…’
Blue looked up, as though searching her brain for the answer. ‘It was 2018 – a year that you’d think would stand out in my memory. It’s the same year Ron and I got married.’
Giving a little wave to her husband, Blue continued. ‘Anyhow, when we first met Eddie, his asylum claim had been denied. They told him he hadn’t provided enough evidence he was gay.’ She raised both hands, imploring the universe to make sense. ‘Evidence! The Home Office wanted proof of his gayness. I mean, can you even believe it?’
Peggy arched an eyebrow. ‘I can believe it.’
‘Yes, well.’ Blue removed a water bottle from her large bag and took a swig. ‘Eddie got into drag as a desperate means of trying to prove himself to the Home Office. But once he started, it unlocked something inside him.’
She put the bottle away. ‘That’s what drag does. Creating a persona separate from your own is … it’s…’ She waved a hand around like she was trying to pluck a word from the air. ‘It’s freeing. It’s empowering. Emboldening – if that’s a word.’
Baz nodded. ‘It’s true.’
Peggy leant back and studied her friend, the silent question visible in her eyes.
Biting back a smile, Baz bobbed her head. ‘Yes. No. Not exactly.’ All eyes were on her, so she elaborated. ‘The first time I put on a dress was for a Hallowe’en party. I went as Jane Tennison.’
Peggy’s eyes opened wide. ‘Jane Tennison?’
Baz bit her lip. ‘From Prime Suspect.’
The eyebrow climbed even further upwards. ‘I know who Jane Tennison is. I’m just surprised at your choice of … muse.’
‘Anyways.’ Baz wasn’t sure what to make of that remark. ‘It was just supposed to be for a party. A one-off performance. But I liked how it felt. I liked how I felt.’
‘That’s exactly what I meant.’ Blue pointed in Baz’s direction. ‘Drag allows us to explore gender and sexuality stereotypes and cultural expectations. It lets us dig deeper into who we really are.’ She bobbed her head a few times. ‘Not that I’ve arrived at any answers, mind. But at least I’ve managed to have a few honest conversations with myself about who I am and who I’m not.’
Blue chuckled at her own words. ‘Everyone should do drag at least once in their life. Did you know … we actually go to nursing homes and retirement villages. Sometimes we perform like you saw today. But a couple of times a year, we spend a full day – doing drag makeovers for the residents. They’re a big hit.’
Peggy nodded approvingly.
Baz found the idea adorable. She hoped she’d find something like that in her old age. Not that she was a spring chicken now. Her sixty-third birthday had passed a few weeks before. And her new friends were all older than she was.
‘The thing is…’ Blue shook her head. ‘I’ve been out since the 1970s.’
‘Likewise,’ said Peggy.
‘It was 1992 for me.’ Baz ran a red fingernail down the sleeve of her cardigan. ‘Or rather, that’s when I acknowledged my sexuality to a few close friends. I…’ Her breath caught in her throat. ‘Well, I didn’t come out as a woman until eighteen months ago.’
‘Trust me, ducks,’ Blue added. ‘I am going somewhere with this – I promise.’
There was a soft jolt as the train began moving, pulling out of the station. The carriage filled with the grey light of day as the train emerged between rows of mid-rise buildings.
Blue took a deep breath before continuing. ‘Then you’ll both know what I mean when I say I’ve seen so many things, known so many people. I’ve loved some wonderful people over the years. Pretty much everyone I knew from back in the day is gone now. It sometimes feels like all the gay men our age are gone.’
The train followed the course of the Ravensbourne, a small tributary of the Thames that ran through south-east London. To the left of the train, the view was peaceful: trees and water. The view out the right featured an endless array of new-build flats.
Smoothing the legs of her trousers, Blue continued. ‘Doing shows targeted at an older demographic allows me to ferret out the ones who survived by staying so deep in the closet that they were never at risk. Royal Tea’s unstated mission statement is to make those folks feel safe and loved and accepted so they can finally acknowledge their true selves.’
Baz’s heart warmed. A year ago, she’d still been living in Canada. Hari had just moved out of the house they’d shared for almost three decades. Her heart had been broken. And now… She was glad she’d taken the risk and moved to London with Daisy.
‘Anyway.’ Blue ran a finger along the back of the seat she was side-saddling. ‘Once Eddie discovered drag, he came to work with us. He was planning to appeal his immigration case but, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what came of it. He was working with a solicitor – I know that much. The Home Office lost some of the original documents he’d submitted with his earlier application. He’d been in legal limbo for a while, waiting and trying to gather all the evidence and supporting documents.’
The train pulled into Deptford Bridge station.
Blue gestured for the others to exit first. ‘You may not know this but when I say legal limbo, that’s exactly what it is. During the initial application process, the government provides some support for asylum seekers. Once an application is denied – even if it’s on technical grounds, like you forgot to include one of your documents – that support comes to an end.’
The lift was too small for both scooters, so Peggy, Carole, and Ron took the first one.
As they waited for the lift to return, Blue added, ‘Oh, you can appeal. But during the appeals process, individuals receive no support and they’re prohibited from working. Unable to contribute, unable even to participate in society in many ways … it takes a terrible toll on a person’s mental health.’ She shook her head.
Madge kissed her teeth. ‘Believe me, I know. For the past twelve years, I’ve been volunteering for a charity that houses people during that process. I’ve hosted a series of asylum seekers in my home.’
Baz did a double-take at that. Had she really? She knew Madge had lodgers – a lovely couple from Iran. And she’d previously had a young Ukrainian woman and her child. But Baz had assumed these were paying tenants.
‘So you know that I am sympathetic to their cause.’ Madge was holding up an index finger as if to forestall any argument. ‘But what that also means is that I know how it goes. Because so many of the traditional means of building community are unavailable, they can find it hard to establish ties.’
The lift door slid open again and Baz wheeled in. The other two squeezed in after her.
Blue studied Madge. ‘With all due respect, that’s not fair. It isn’t true.’
Madge glared up at Blue in the close confines of the lift. The two were polar opposites. Blue was tall, thin, fair, and almost gaunt, whereas Madge was short, rotund, and brown-skinned. But it was more than outward appearance. Blue was softly spoken – quiet but insistent. Madge was stern and sure of herself. She could be abrasive at times, but also quick to laugh.
In the cramped space of the lift, with its bare metal walls, the pair stared at one another. In the end it was Blue who caved first. ‘I mean, it can be true. The system does make it hard for people to settle. But most asylum seekers work hard to build a community despite all that. They want to belong.’
Madge cocked her head and appeared to consider her words. ‘Asylum seekers often lack the deep roots most people have. And the policies of this government have them living in fear.’ She folded her hands in front of herself. ‘A decade back, I had a man who stayed with me. Pius. A young man from Ghana. One day I woke up and he was gone.’
The lift door slid open at street level. Baz considered Madge’s words. A soft rain had started to fall in the short time they’d been in the lift, so the group huddled beneath the overhead tracks.
Blue looked like she was going to say something, but Madge forestalled her. ‘I’m not saying Pius didn’t have his reasons. Lord knows that poor man had enough to deal with.’ She stuffed her hands into her coat’s large pockets. ‘I thought something must have happened to him. I looked for him – I did. But it turned out he got a job in Liverpool and went for it.’
Blue frowned.
Madge sighed. ‘Sometimes … people just leave. It happens.’
Blue stretched a hand out and laid it gently on Madge’s shoulder.
Madge smiled wistfully. ‘He had my phone number and my address. If he wanted to get back in touch, he would have. A Christmas card might’ve been nice. Or even a phone call. But he was a very private man.’
‘I’m sorry, Madge.’ Blue gave Madge’s shoulder a quick squeeze before removing her hand and clasping Ron’s. ‘That’s not what happened to Eddie, though.’
Looking up at the concrete overhead, Ron said, ‘Sure, sometimes queens leave the scene. Kelsey Preeze, Patsy Stoned, Fifi Galore. But they don’t disappear entirely.’
‘I think,’ Peggy began, turning her scooter towards the main road, ‘what Madge is trying to say is that we’ll see what we can find out. But we can’t promise anything.’
Carole walked to Ron and reached out towards him. When he raised one of his hands, she took it in both of hers. ‘Thank you for dinner, Tiffany. I’m sorry about your cat.’ She turned to Blue. ‘And you… You keep building those Lego train sets.’
She blew a kiss at them as she left the station. ‘Farewell. I don’t think we shall meet again on this side of the veil.’