When they arrived at Wellbeloved on Wednesday morning, Peggy found Arthur sitting in her chair. Again.
‘Morning, Madge. Baz.’ Peggy marched to her spot and allowed fat droplets of rain to drip onto his knees. ‘Arthur.’ His name came out as more of a growl than a greeting.
Here was this man, daring to sit in her seat. Despite the unsubtle hint, he still wasn’t moving, so she thumped him in the shin with her cane and motioned for him to get out of her way.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ muttered Arthur. ‘Morning, Peggy. Morning, Carole.’ He pulled himself to his feet and waved at a stack of papers on Madge’s lap. ‘We’ve just been talking about the council’s plans to raze the nature reserve to make way for a new housing development.’
Peggy squeezed past him. She hung her sodden coat on the back of her chair and lowered herself onto the seat. ‘Disgraceful.’
He smacked his lips. ‘Exactly.’ He bent and tapped the clipboard Madge was holding. ‘They reckon they can get almost fifty new units. Will you sign my petition?’
Peggy blinked. ‘So many? But that nature reserve is tiny.’
Arthur snatched the plans from Madge and shoved them at Peggy. ‘That space over up the top of Tanner’s Hill – you know where the old traveller encampment was? That land isn’t any bigger than the nature reserve. They put up more than sixty units – including some three-bed houses.’
Peggy scowled. ‘Those eyesores blocked our sunlight when we were still living on the estate.’
Madge crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I see. I thought it was about not overcrowding our community – not about some sort of architectural beauty contest. Hmmm?’
Peggy waved dismissively. ‘Don’t you start.’
‘So we can count on your support for our campaign?’ Arthur reached into his bag and pulled out a horrendously worded petition. ‘The Friends of the Brookmill Nature Reserve is hosting an extraordinary general meeting over at the Baptist church in a couple weeks. We’ll present our petition to the council then. Of course, if you’d be interested in supporting our committee, we could always use some assistance. Madge tells me you’re a writer. Perhaps—’
Peggy fixed him with a glare and he shut up. Almost. ‘I’ll, er… I’ll just leave you with a stash of petitions – shall I?’ He pulled a stack of papers from his leather satchel and deposited them on Peggy’s lap. ‘Feel free to get them signed by as many people as possible. If you run out, just let me know. I’ve got more.’ He stood up what probably passed for straight in some circles, smoothed his mousy grey hair, and departed.
‘What a nice man,’ said Baz.
Peggy shrugged and Madge harrumphed.
Baz pointed at the plate of pastries on the table. ‘He bought us those.’
After unceremoniously dumping the petitions on the table, Peggy helped herself to a croissant. ‘I suppose he can’t be all bad, then.’
Madge shook her head. ‘I don’t know. That man has some wild ideas in the bedroom.’
Peggy bit back a chuckle as Baz was taken by a sudden coughing fit.
Madge continued undaunted. ‘I don’t mind a bit of play – you know, sexually. But there are some things a lady won’t contemplate. Deeply disturbing proclivities. Unseemly.’ She flicked her fingers as though some filth clung to them before leaning over her knitting to pick up a cinnamon roll.
Baz was still coughing.
Peggy touched Carole’s knee. ‘Would you get Baz some water, please, love? I’m worried she might never recover.’
‘Of course.’ Carole was on her feet in an instant. ‘For drinking or bathing?’
‘For drinking, please,’ replied Peggy. ‘Thank you.’
Carole disappeared through the doorway to the second room, returning a moment later with an entire ten-litre water dispenser in her strong arms.
Wordlessly, Baz held up her empty mug and Carole opened the water tap. Baz guzzled the water and thumped on her chest. ‘Thank you. Thank you,’ she spluttered. ‘Sorry, I think some crumbs went down the wrong way.’
Carole proffered the water dispenser. ‘More?’
Baz held her mug aloft. ‘Please.’
Carole opened the tap again, letting water flow into Baz’s mug until it reached the top lip. She shut the tap off without letting a single drop spill onto her friend’s lap. Then she popped back through to the café’s main room to return the dispenser.
Baz thumped her chest once more before taking another sip. ‘Thank you,’ she said as Carole returned to her seat. ‘That was very kind of you.’
The four women sat – only the ambient café noise, the sound of Cookie licking his paws, and the clacking of laptop keys and knitting needles disturbing the silence. Then a driver outside the window leant on his horn, slicing through the peace. This was followed by angry shouting.
‘So,’ said Madge at length.
‘So,’ replied Peggy.
Baz nodded.
Carole looked up from her needles. ‘Of course, the pears won’t be ripe until my grandchildren have grandchildren of their own. Mind you, I’m sure Diane was swapped as a child for one of those Greek replicas, so her grandchildren will most likely be maple trees.’
Madge set her knitting in her lap and bent forwards to pour another cup of ruby-coloured tea from her thermal carafe. ‘What do we say? Are we going to help Clive and his friends?’ She leant back in her chair and took a sip before smacking her lips. ‘Mmm. Hotter than a witch’s titty.’
Peggy waved a finger in Baz’s direction. ‘Might want to take a sip of that water before you start coughing again.’ Madge sometimes spoke just to get a reaction – and Baz certainly made herself an easy target. Every blessed thing made the woman blush.
After taking a long drink of water, Baz set her mug down. She let out another small cough. ‘Excuse me. Sorry. I think we have to – don’t we? That is, I know none of you are especially fond of Clive but there’s a big difference between being annoyed by someone and wishing harm on him – or his friends. And Blue and Ron were lovely, weren’t they?’
‘I suppose,’ Madge conceded.
Peggy’s lips twisted. ‘You’re right. I’m not sure I’d expend any energy helping Clive – but it sounds like this Eddie’s done nothing wrong. I guess we should talk about where we start in the search for him.’
‘Well, then.’ Baz looked pleased. ‘I, erm, I suppose I should fess up.’
Peggy arched an eyebrow.
Baz’s skin pinked. ‘I went on Royal Tea’s website and downloaded a list of their forthcoming shows. I thought it might be useful for us to speak to a few of the fans. If we decided to help, that is. Sorry. I … erm…’
Madge breathed out noisily. ‘I called Clive and asked him to provide us with a list of Eddie’s friends as well as the name of the pub where he’d been working. I’ve called them all already but no one had any useful information.’
‘A tea party.’ Carole’s contribution to the conversation was so unexpected – not only because she didn’t normally participate in planning their activities but also because of the mundanity of its content.
‘What was that, love?’ Peggy studied her partner.
‘Tea.’ Carole smiled. ‘Emmy and Amrita will be joining us for tea and treats at eight o’clock this evening. I invited them.’
Baz frowned. ‘Your neighbours?’
Madge narrowed her eyes. ‘Does this have to do with Eddie?’
‘Obviously.’ Carole sighed melodramatically and rolled her eyes like a teenager.
Knitting needles still softly clacking, Madge leant forwards. ‘Because…?’
Carole returned her focus to her knitting – but Peggy could take it from here. She could see what her partner was getting at. ‘Because that pair know more about drag than we do. And because it turns out they’ve been to a few of Royal Tea’s shows. We spoke briefly with Amrita yesterday afternoon when we picked Cookie up after the show. And because we know they’ll be honest with us.’ She touched Carole’s knee. ‘Good thinking, love.’
‘Tea it is, then,’ said Madge.
At a quarter to the hour, the entryphone buzzed. Madge, of course. Madge believed in punctuality – and according to the way she defined it, that meant being at least ten minutes early.
When Peggy opened the front door, she was met by Madge, who was pulling a wheeled shopping bag. ‘Evening,’ Peggy grunted. Cookie wagged his tail and barked excitedly.
‘Peggy. And my sweet boy. Granny’s got treats for you – yes, she does.’ Madge petted Cookie’s head before pulling her trolley into the flat. ‘Come on, let’s get this all set up.’
Peggy stood at the door, shaking her head for a moment after Cookie followed Madge through to the lounge-diner.
When Peggy followed a few seconds later, Madge was busy unloading multiple mismatched plastic containers of biscuits and finger sandwiches and cupcakes. She pulled out a small container and peeled the lid back. Cookie pulled himself into the prettiest sit, lifting his front paws up to his chest in almost a prayer-like pose. Madge handed him an apple wedge, which he crunched twice before swallowing. ‘There’s a good boy.’
Peggy stamped her cane on the floor – which didn’t achieve much more than a dull thud on the carpet. ‘Madge, what on God’s green earth are you doing?’
Madge jabbed her fists into her hips as she stood up to her full five foot four. ‘He likes apples.’
Peggy breathed slowly as she glared at Madge. ‘That is not what I meant and you know it.’
Madge had the audacity to look surprised. ‘What – this? We’re having a tea party, are we not?’
Peggy frowned. ‘You were invited to a tea party.’
‘Yes.’ Madge turned around and pulled more containers from her shopping trolley-bag. ‘My mama raised me to believe guests should never show up at someone’s house empty-handed.’ She reached in and removed a thermal flask.
Peggy peered into Madge’s Mary Poppins bag. ‘You do understand that Carole and I have also prepared for this evening, right?’
Madge studied her for a moment, her face impassive. ‘What did you make?’
‘I can cook, you know.’ Peggy wasn’t going to stand for this sort of insolence.
The eyebrow was still affixed in place. ‘What did you make?’
Peggy’s shoulders fell. ‘I bought a couple packs of Ryvita.’
Madge resumed pulling lids off plastic containers. ‘I’m sorry – I don’t think I caught that. What was it you made for this evening?’
Peggy crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I bought two packs of crispbreads. And a few cheeses.’
Madge tutted. ‘Why don’t you go into the kitchen and get some small plates, teacups, and saucers. You don’t happen to have a sugar bowl, do you? And a small jug for milk?’
Peggy stomped off towards the kitchen like a disgruntled teenager. Before she got there, though, the entryphone sounded again. Putting her weight on her cane, she pivoted, heading to the front door instead. She buzzed Baz into the building and then opened the door – just as Emmy and Amrita were walking down the stairs. Baz walked in, carrying a large plastic container.
‘Oh, not you too!’
Baz turned to look over her shoulder. ‘Sorry? What?’
Peggy sighed. ‘Come in, come in. Madge is in the dining room, prepping a feast for the ages.’ She ushered the three new guests into the flat. ‘You’ll need to ask Madge what to do with whatever you’ve brought, as she’s apparently running the kitchen this evening.’
Madge kissed her teeth. ‘There is absolutely no need to be like that.’ And then with no hint of shame, she added, ‘Baz, you can place your tarts here next to my rum cake. I’ve sent Carole in search of a teapot. Peggy, where are you at with the milk and sugar?’
Grumbling under her breath, Peggy headed into the small kitchen – where Carole was about to put the freshly boiled kettle into the fridge. She took it from her and whispered, ‘Go and have a seat – I’ll be out in a sec.’
Keeping an eye on Madge through the open doorway, Peggy watched as her friend cast her eyes on the two young women, studying their empty hands. ‘Good evening, girls. Ah. You’ve not brought anything. I suppose that’s fine at any rate.’
Emmy smiled broadly – she really was an exceptionally pretty girl. ‘Oh, not at all. We spent the afternoon making chutney.’ She swung her shoulder bag down and reached inside. ‘We brought a couple of jars. This one’s mango and chilli. And this one’ – she pulled a second jar from the bag – ‘is cranberry and Prosecco.’ She gave them both to Madge, before frowning.
Amrita stepped towards where Peggy was standing. ‘Oh. We thought there’d be crackers and cheese. That’s what, er… Peggy, do you want us to run over to Tesco?’
Peggy held the Ryvita and aged cheddar aloft. ‘I think we’re all good. We just need Madge to make some space for everything.’
‘Ah,’ said the woman in question. ‘Peggy, will we be sitting at the dining table? I think we might be able to make space…’ She began moving plates around in a futile exercise.
Peggy shook her head. ‘I thought we’d load our plates up and then head over to the sofa. But what do I know? I only live here.’
Peggy, Carole, and Baz sat on the sofa. The two young women were on dining room chairs dragged over to the coffee table. And Madge was on the armchair, keeping Cookie entertained with an endless supply of apple wedges.
‘So,’ said Emmy. ‘Carole said you wanted to talk to us about the drag show you saw the other day?’
Madge nodded. ‘That’s right.’
Amrita swallowed a mouthful of crispbread with cheese and cranberry chutney before speaking. ‘I don’t really know what we can tell you … but we’re happy to try.’
Peggy brushed crumbs off her hands. ‘Are you familiar with a queen called Sue Panova? She sometimes performs with Royal Tea?’
The two girls looked at one another. ‘The name is familiar,’ said Emmy.
Amrita frowned. ‘We might have seen her. I’m not sure. What’s she look like? What sort of act does she do?’
‘Well, now.’ Peggy cocked her head. ‘That’s the thing. We’ve only seen her on the website. The trouble is … she’s gone missing.’
‘Wha?’ Emmy covered her mouth as she swallowed a mouthful of cheese, cracker, and delicious homemade chutney. ‘What do you mean missing?’ Much as Peggy enjoyed Emmy’s artlessness, she wouldn’t endear herself to Madge with those manners.
Madge scowled. ‘We mean what we say. Eddie… That is, Sue Panova… He… I mean she…’ Scowling even harder, she waved dismissively. ‘Eddie has gone missing. His friends have asked us to look into the matter to see if we can find him – or at least figure out where he’s gone.’
‘Oh my days,’ Emmy said. ‘We don’t really know Eddie. At all, I mean. We might’ve seen Sue perform – but we really only went to Royal Tea shows for Pfeff.’
Amrita added, ‘We got into drag because of Alexa. She was in a couple of my classes last year. I’m doing anthropology – but I’m taking a few courses in theatre arts. Anyway, that’s how we met them. We went to a couple of his shows and ended up getting completely hooked on drag as an art form.’
Madge looked like she was trying her best to hold back a lecture. Peggy suspected she was biting her tongue to keep from telling the girls they’d been no help at all – which, to be fair, was entirely true. Besides having a very nice tea party, thus far, the evening had been a waste.
Amrita took a bite of Madge’s rum cake and practically swooned. ‘Did you make this, Auntie?’
Madge helped herself to another slice of the same cake. ‘I did.’
The girl swallowed another mouthful and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. ‘This is even better than my nanna’s. I mean, I wouldn’t say that in front of her – not if I wanted to be invited to Easter dinner. But this is scrummy.’
‘It’s true.’ Emmy nodded. ‘I’ve had her grandmother’s cake – and yours edges it. But they are both so good.’
‘Thank you, girls. That’s very kind.’ Madge smiled. ‘Now about this missing young man. You’ve seen some of Royal Tea’s shows. And you might know some of the regular attendees, yes?’
The girls looked at one another. ‘I mean…’ Amrita frowned. ‘We’ve been to a couple of their shows. But we don’t know any of the performers – aside from Pfeff, obviously. And I’m not sure how we can help. Sorry, Aunties.’
‘Obviously, if there’s anything you need us to do…’ Emmy helped herself to a slice of rum cake.
Amrita cocked her head and screwed up her eyes. ‘Though it is weird that there’s another queer man missing in the neighbourhood – don’t you think?’
Peggy’s heart skipped a beat. ‘How do you mean?’
Emmy studied her flatmate and then her eyes opened wide. ‘Oh my days! You mean— Ugh, what was his name? William? Watson? No, Wilson!’
‘I mean, okay,’ Amrita began. ‘It was a few years ago. But it’s weird – don’t you think?’
Emmy’s brow furrowed. ‘Yeah, I suppose. I think he was undocumented, so no one did anything.’
Both Baz and Madge were leaning forwards in their seats. ‘What was that last bit?’ Baz asked.
‘Oh, sorry,’ Amrita said. ‘Undocumented. It means he wasn’t in the UK legally.’
‘We do know words, you know,’ Peggy chided. ‘I believe Baz was simply expressing surprise.’
Amrita’s brown face flushed. ‘Sorry, Peggy. I didn’t mean—’
‘Yes, yes.’ Peggy made circling motions. ‘Now, go on. Who is this Wilson and why is the case similar?’
Amrita spread some more of the mango chutney onto a cheese-crispbread stack. ‘Okay, so. You know how we moved in here in August of 2021 – not long after you did, right?’
Peggy nodded.
‘Our flat,’ Amrita began. ‘Apparently it had been sitting empty for a while. I mean, Tim, our landlord… He’s not actually our landlord. I think he’s, like, the caretaker or something. Whatever, he didn’t think it was empty. He said the bloke was just avoiding him because he was behind on rent. I don’t know if Tim got an order allowing him to enter the property or if he just went ahead and did it – Tim’s a bit dodgy.’
‘Well dodgy,’ Emmy agreed.
Peggy was sympathetic – she’d had her share of shady landlords over the years. ‘Ladies, if you don’t get to the point soon, I’ll be dead by the time you arrive at it.’
Amrita waved dismissively. ‘Oh, please. You’ll outlive us all, Peggy. But anyway, Tim said he’d give us a “deal” on our first month’s rent if we cleaned up and packed away all the guy’s stuff. Only some deal it turned out to be. We worked about twelve hours straight – d’you remember that, Ems? You, me, and Marlon. That’s my brother. Anyhow, this deal worked out to less than three quid an hour for all the work we did.’
Madge sucked her teeth.
Amrita straightened up. ‘Sorry, sorry. We had to bag his stuff up for Tim to put in storage. Wilson’s stuff. But there was no way I was going to trust Tim with anything important, you know?’
Peggy made a show of checking her watch – not that she was actually wearing a watch.
‘I know, I know. I’m getting there. It didn’t look like Wilson had actually moved. He’d been food shopping – the fridge was full of spoilt milk and veg. We found his passport and a letter from the Home Office on the coffee table. I mean, not like we opened it or nuffink. It was already open.’
Emmy nodded. ‘I only remember it ’cause it seemed so important. I think it said they were going to re-open his case.’
‘Okay, you’re going to think this is really naughty. ’Cause it is, right,’ said Amrita.
‘I know that now,’ Emmy said. ‘I’m almost done with my law degree.’
Amrita began tearing the wrapper off a cupcake. ‘We kept it – the letter and his passport, I mean. Even then, I didn’t trust Tim. I figured if the bloke came back, I could just claim I kept it by mistake. I kept it safe, though. It’s been two and a half years, but if you think it could help, I’ll get it for you.’
‘That would be helpful,’ Peggy said. ‘Thank you.’
Baz – sweet innocent Baz – screwed up her face. ‘One thing I still don’t understand. You said he was queer. How could you tell?’
‘Porn,’ said every other woman in the room simultaneously.
Baz’s face flushed to practically the hue of Madge’s hibiscus tea. ‘Oh.’