Seven minutes after the train pulled out of Deptford station, it arrived at London Bridge. The same attendant returned and placed the ramp again – minus the conversation.
The women exited onto St Thomas Street. Baz would’ve got turned around if she’d been on her own. She’d been to London Bridge a few times – on her way to Borough Market – but had always used a different exit.
They turned left, away from the Market. Carole and Peggy sped off as Baz hung back with Madge, who walked at her own pace. Madge waved at the big yellow brick building opposite the station. ‘I once did a six-month secondment to Guy’s.’
Baz had been to a few hospitals since moving back to London – both for matters relating to her transition and in regard to her knee. But she’d never been to Guy’s. ‘Oh, was it nice?’
Madge shrugged. ‘A hospital is a hospital.’ She chuckled as she pulled her coat tighter around herself. ‘One of the anaesthetists was very handsome.’
As they passed a drab concrete block, Madge made that noise with her tongue she often did. ‘What I really didn’t like was this place.’
Baz tried to look up at the nondescript office block without losing control of her scooter. ‘Isn’t it just offices?’
Madge scowled. ‘It’s the Home Office. Every morning, this street would fill up with the sad faces of asylum seekers and people with immigration issues, who were required to check in. I could see in their faces that they’d lost faith in the system. That’s when I started volunteering as a host.’
The sun emerged from the clouds again as the two women turned onto a small side street. Baz was disorientated. Trusting Madge to know the way, she allowed herself to focus on the variety of architecture they passed. These streets were a warren of 1980s concrete blocks, pre-war council flats, Victorian red-brick warehouses and nurses’ residences, and new-build luxury flats.
Before long, they caught up with Peggy and Carole at what appeared to be the rear entrance to a community hall. Raised voices could be heard – and not the happy kind.
As the four women walked – or rolled – around the side of the building, a park came into view. Along with a small crowd of protesters.
‘Oh, lovely,’ muttered Peggy. ‘Those tossers are here. ’Course they bloody are.’
The lone woman in the group of protesters wore a large cardboard sign on a rope around her neck. In large red letters, it said simply: PERVERTS.
The woman spotted them and pointed a finger. ‘Oi! It’s them old hags from last week.’ She raised her voice and bellowed, ‘There’s no woke cops to come to your aid this time.’
One of the men held up a handmade sign declaring: TRUST THE SIENCE. Baz shook her head.
‘If you munters attack Mitch same as last time,’ the man shouted, ‘you should know we’ll defend ourselves.’
Baz licked her lips. ‘We don’t want trouble.’ Her voice came out a squeaky whisper and she worried she might be sick.
‘That’s right.’ Madge positioned herself in front of Baz, blocking the angry group’s view of her. ‘We’re just here to—’
Peggy’s face tightened. ‘I wouldn’t mind a bit of trouble.’ She took Carole’s hand.
Carole smiled sweetly. ‘Oh, excellent. Are we going to fight now? I’d have brought my knitting bag if I’d known.’
Mitch – Baz recognised him because of the mole beneath his ear – raised his hands. His T-shirt proclaimed the words: GAYS AGAINST GROOMERS. ‘Now, now. There’s no need to be so hostile. We ain’t doing nuffink. Why can’t we talk like the civilised adults we are?’
‘I’ll show you civilised,’ Peggy grumbled.
Mitch raised his voice. ‘They keep telling me drag is art. So how comes every drag queen I ever meet challenges me to a fight? People say dressing up like a woman is free expression. But why ain’t we allowed that same freedom?’ Baz fought a shiver at the murderous look in his eyes.
As his acolytes roared their approval, the front door of the community centre opened and a man stuck his head out. ‘Ladies, you joining us?’
Baz felt light-headed as relief washed over her. ‘Oh, thank heavens. Can we bring our scooters inside? Please?’
The burly man – wearing an arm band identifying him as a security guard – waved them in. ‘Of course, of course. Welcome. Come on through.’
He let them in and then swiftly closed and barred the door. As he took up position at the peephole once again, Peggy shook her head. ‘I wonder if that brute’s bite is half as bad as his bark. I feel sorry for anyone who gets caught in his sights.’
Baz swallowed down her fear, though her attention was soon drawn to more pleasant thoughts as Bluebird Sofa and Shady Diana – both in full drag – were waiting just inside the door.
‘Ladies, come on in,’ Di said. ‘Apologies for sending Errol out to rescue you, my loves. For some reason, my presence seems to inflame that crowd. I can’t think why.’
The room was kitted out with three rows of tables, all facing a small stage. About half a dozen people – all of a similar age to Baz and her friends – were already seated.
Blue raised an arm – draped in a turquoise feather boa – and gestured to the tables. ‘I’ll tell you what, girls. Park your wheels at the back here and then come on over and mingle with the crowd. We’re expecting a full house today – but it’s still a while before we get started.’
Baz and Peggy put their scooters into the corner, as unobtrusively as possible in the confined space.
‘Excellent,’ said Blue. Today’s wig was royal blue with 1940s-style pin curls. She wore a pale blue dress covered with pink and red roses. ‘Now, I understand you want to mingle with the audience, chat with folks, have a bit of a natter, and see if anyone knows anything.’ She took Peggy by the elbow. ‘Why don’t you and your lovely partner join me. I’ll make some introductions.’
Di did a little curtsy, looking at Baz and Madge. ‘I guess that leaves you two in my capable hands.’ She extended both arms in front of herself, her fingernails long and painted a subtle rose colour that complemented her deep russet skin. Waggling her fingers, she added, ‘Come on then, dolls. I promise not to bite – unless you ask nicely.’
Baz clasped Di’s warm left hand. Madge did the same on Di’s right. ‘Lead on, then.’
Di marched them over to a table where an Asian man sat with a White woman. Both appeared to be in their sixties. ‘Madge, Baz, these wonderful folks are a couple of our regulars, Arjun and Janet.’ She faced the seated pair. ‘And these lovely ladies, Madge and Baz’ – she indicated each woman in turn – ‘are helping in the search for our missing queen.’
Di released Madge’s hand and covered her mouth. ‘You’ve heard about Sue Panova – haven’t you?’
Arjun bobbled his head. ‘It’s a bad business. I do hope she’s found safe and sound.’
Janet clutched her mug. ‘Such a shame.’
Di pulled out chairs for Madge and Baz and told them to sit. ‘Now, ladies. Nothing but the best for you – which is why we’re offering table service today. Your choices are tea, coffee, or…’ She looked up as she put a glamorous index finger to her cheek. ‘Nope, that’s it. Just tea or coffee. Though I suppose we could stretch to a glass of our finest tap water.’ She touched her fingers to the table, fingernails clicking on the veneer surface.
‘Tea for me, please, Diana,’ said Madge.
Di nodded, her big blond beehive bobbing with the motion. ‘Of course. And for you, my lovely?’
‘I’ll have a tea as well, please.’ Baz ran her fingers over the laminated table top. ‘Erm, I don’t suppose you’ve got oat milk, have you?’
Fingers to her chest, Di tutted. ‘Oat milk? My, my – aren’t we feeling especially middle class today?’ Baz felt heat begin to rise in her chest, but then Di touched her hand gently. ‘I’m only throwing a bit of shade, love. Don’t you worry. I’m lactose intolerant, so I’ve got a little carton of soya milk if that works?’
Baz exhaled. ‘That would be lovely – but only if there’s still enough for you. I wouldn’t want you to go without on my account.’
Di waved. ‘It’s nothing. Back in a tick.’
As Di strutted over to a screened-off section of the community centre, Madge turned to their tablemates. ‘So, Arjun and Janet, was it? You come to a lot of Royal Tea shows?’
Arjun touched his wedding band. ‘I suppose we have.’ He looked down at the table.
Janet put an arm around him and pulled him closer. Although the gesture was clearly born of an easy intimacy, something about it seemed platonic. ‘Arjun discovered them first. My partner – Ian, he’ll be here later – he and I started joining Arjun about a year back. After…’ She wrapped her hand around Arjun’s. ‘We joined Arjun after my brother passed.’
Arjun lifted his head and smiled. ‘I’ve known Blue since back in the day when everyone still called her Keith. Jack and I first met at one of her shows back in—’ His eyes brightened as he cocked his head. ‘Oh, let’s see. It was after the millennium but it must have been before the big Stop the War march. I remember because Jack and I went to that together. So it must have been around 2001, 2002?’
‘Hold on.’ Madge pulled her notebook from her handbag. She licked her finger and flipped through pages and found what she was looking for. ‘I thought they didn’t start performing until 2018. That’s what Di told us. I made a note of it, you see?’ She tapped her notebook with her index finger.
Baz wondered what else Madge took notes of. Did she have a cabinet full of all her observations at home?
Arjun straightened his cardigan. ‘Royal Tea, yes. Blue and Di started that when they decided to retire from the bar scene. But Bluebird Sofa was a south London institution for many years. She used to do all the biggest drag venues. Of course, back then drag wasn’t quite so mainstream as it is now. These days, it’s very hip to say you’re going to a drag show. You could tell your office colleagues at the water cooler on a Monday morning and no one would bat an eye.’
He touched his finger to his lip. ‘Do offices still have water coolers? I retired back in 2014. For all I know, staff gossip looks completely different these days. You still work in an office.’ He nudged his sister-in-law. ‘Janet works for one of the big high-street banks, you see.’
Madge was scribbling furiously in her notebook.
Janet shrugged. ‘Since Covid, I only go to the office twice a week.’
Sensing the conversation was getting off track, Baz thought she should try to steer it back to Eddie’s disappearance. But just then, Di returned to the table with two mugs.
‘Thank you, Di.’ Baz’s mug was navy blue with a Cadbury’s Wispa logo on the side. ‘So, do you know Eddie?’
Madge’s tea was served in a Charles and Diana commemorative mug from the wedding in 1981.
When Janet and Arjun looked at one another with furrowed brows, Di helped out. ‘She means Sue Panova.’
Arjun touched a button on his shirtsleeve. ‘Isn’t it funny that another of your queens would go missing?’ He looked up, raising a hand apologetically. ‘Not funny-ha-ha, I mean. Funny-strange.’
Madge’s eyebrows shot up as Baz’s mouth fell open. ‘Another?’ they asked in unison.
Arjun shook his head very slightly. ‘Of course! Don’t you remember Fifi Galore?’