Meeting Peggy

This story has been brewing for a while and it's only now that I've settled on a time and place, Scotland in 1997. I used the death of Princess Diana as a backdrop to the final scene because it seemed to add some realism to the story. I don't know if there's more to this story but this will have to do for now as I'm working on a new series.

*****

There are certain years that stand out for me, 1992 for one because it was then I finally accepted that I was drawn to girls although because I was in my last year at high school I didn't get much chance to experiment. 1994 is another year that stands out because I met a woman who would change my life forever and we were not lovers. Senior Constable Jennifer Ryan was one of the cops brought in on a regular basis to take us law students through some of the finer points of law. It was usually a male cop who came in but that spring morning a policewoman came to do the session and quite a few of the guys paid very close attention.

PC Ryan was in full uniform, the jacket, skirt and white shirt with the cravat but as she undid her jacket and hung it over the chair I felt the butterflies rising in my stomach, and like the guys I paid extra attention to her lecture. Although unlike them, I noticed other things too. Like the way she came across, she was confident and knowledgeable about the law and police work in general. She was also more than capable of handling herself when one of the guys sniggered at something his mate said. PC Ryan stopped what she was doing and stared at him.

"Something you'd like to share with the class?"

"Em, no, ma'am, it's a private thing."

"Well what do you think about my last point?"

The guy fell silent and looked around for moral support but PC Ryan wasn't letting up on him as she came around to the front of the desk.

"I'm all for a wee bit of banter," she smiled, "but in a couple of years time most of you will be out there defending clients or prosecuting and it's all about the details. If you get some minor detail wrong you can bet your boots that the other lawyer is going to notice it and then you've not only lost your case, you look like an idiot. So, how about you quit it with the sexual innuendos and pay attention to what I'm saying?"

There was a stunned silence as she finished speaking and then one of the other girls turned and stared at the guy.

"Satisfied now, Jimmy? Now who looks like an eejit?"

He turned bright red, mumbled an apology and the lecture continued, but after it was over and some of the others were gathered around to ask her more questions I sat contemplating something else and it was not her legs either. For the last few months I'd been considering changing courses but hadn't found anything that interested me. Now I'm not saying that I applied to the Police College just because of PC Ryan but she was on my mind as well. We talked briefly after the others had left the room and she was very helpful when I told her I was thinking of joining up.

"I mean I would have when I left school but mum talked me out of it."

"Was that the only reason?" PC Ryan reached for her jacket, "I mean you signed up for law, and you're in your second year. Why not stick it out?"

"Because I'm only doing it to keep mum happy," I paused for a moment before launching out into the unknown, "and it means she can't keep inviting eligible bachelors around."

"Now we get to the heart of the matter," she pulled the jacket over her shoulders, "so, Alisha, are your parents Indian or Pakistani?"

"Indian," I flicked at my hair, "me da' is Westernised, but me ma' is very traditional. When I first said I'd like to join the police force she faked a heart attack and scared the shite out of me."

PC Ryan restrained a smirk at that.

"She sounds a bit like my mum, although she didn't fake a heart attack, she just told me I'd never find a man if I was in uniform but fortunately for me, I'm attracted to women," she started to button her jacket.

"But all that aside, it's your life. If you want to join the police force then what's stopping you? You have to live with yourself for the rest of your life but we don't have to live with our parents for the rest of our lives," she gave me the once over.

"You're the right height, you look fairly athletic and if you've managed to get through nearly two years of law school then you've got the brains for it. I'd say go for it, we need more Asian officers, especially women," she reached into her briefcase and extracted a card.

"Call me if you want to know more," she wrote a number on the back of the card, "but I'm writing down the number of the college at Tulliallan. There's an open day coming up in a month or two, I have been a few times myself just to help out but my shifts don't always coincide," she handed me the card.

"At least think about it."

I did think about it, for the rest of the month. I was the youngest child, my father was born in Glasgow when his parents came over from India in the sixties, so technically he's the only one of his siblings born here. My mother was born in Goa and brought here as a child, and their marriage was an arranged one because that's the way it was done back then. However their children, two boys and two girls were all born here so we're second generation Scots. My sister and I are mad keen Celtic supporters but my brothers supported Rangers, just to spite us or was it the other way around? Either way it made for interesting conversation whenever there was an Old Firm game on the telly.

I know the racial divide existed when I was growing up but I was also fairly confident and able to make friends easily. I was teased by others but Glaswegians are quick off the mark when it comes to one liners and I was no different. I had one fight in my last year at Primary when I faced down the school bully out the back of the gymnasium. Technically I lost that fight but won on points because afterwards I gained pals because I just kept getting up to keep on swinging. The girl I was fighting ended up getting expelled for something else she did and that made my day!

Thus, by the time I reached high school I was well on the way to complete integration, I had the Glesga patter, the walk and the attitude. On weekends I was either out with my pals or heading into the city with my sister, our primary aim being to scavenge money off sympathetic strangers and being the youngest meant that I was used as the excuse for a 'bus fare' home. The money was never spent on a bus fare though, we simply found another older person to buy us a packet of fags and we'd fuck off to the river with our fags. Afterwards we'd go to the Celtic shop to check out the latest merchandise.

In summary though, all of us kids shared a common desire to shake off the old and embrace the new, I mean I know I'm of Indian descent, it's kind of obvious when you look at me and I'm proud of my heritage but I can't speak much of mum and dad's languages. Mum speaks Konkani and dad speaks Marathi, which are not mutually intelligible even though the areas where these languages are spoken share a common border. Thus, English became the lingua franca in our household from as far back as I can remember.

My older sister, Jiya started dating as soon as she was old enough to stay out all night and from her I learned more about sex and sexuality. It was through Jiya that I met my first real lesbian, a friend of hers from university. When Jiya first told mum that Amanda was a lesbian, she misheard her and thought she was from Lebanon and when Jiya repeated it loud and clear, my dad chuckled and said it again. Almost as if he was trying to wind her up.

"You cannot be with her, what if you turn into a lesbian?"

"I might and then I might not," she flicked at her hair, "but at least if we have sex I can't get pregnant before I'm married and shame the family."

Dad looked hard at her and then went back to his computer, he'd just bought his first computer and he spent every spare moment playing with it. Ultimately though, Jiya didn't show any interest in women, that was left up to me and by the time I left school I knew I preferred girls to boys and yet I still felt as if I was somehow breaking some taboo. It was legal in Britain, and my dad would not have thrown me out if I came out but mum used the oldest trick in the book, the mother daughter thing. She never held it over me like a big stick because I never admitted anything to her, but I still felt torn between familial ties and my desires.

When I told mum I was going to apply to the Police College there was the usual hand wringing, my mum is very emotional and she worried that I'd get blown up the I.R.A, even though they were in Ireland, or beaten up by some guy, even though they give you a baton and plenty of training. In the end it was dad who came to my rescue.

"If she wants to join the police then let her. We have an accountant, a lawyer, a social worker and now we will have a police officer, stop trying to control everything."

Mum cried some more, I promised her I'd think more carefully about it but a week later I put in my application and prayed to whatever god looks after apostate Indians that I would be successful and he must have heard my prayer because I got the invitation to sit the entrance exam. I passed with good marks and found myself at Tulliallan a few months later wondering if I had done the right thing. The training was tough, but I was determined to make it through and when I did graduate my mum finally agreed that I did look good in uniform.

"There is a nice young man about your age, he is in the police force."

Dad rolled his eyes, Jiya threw her hands in the air and I laughed.

Joining the police force however had another unexpected benefit and it's definitely not mentioned in the brochure but it was at Tulliallan that I got my first girlfriend. Admittedly our encounters were more like slippery fumblings in the shower but living on the campus meant I was away from my family and could let my hair down, quite literally!

Looking back I can see that being able to come out to myself really helped my grades and I passed in the top ten percent of my class. It was only after we graduated that I broke up with Stacey when she was posted to Aberdeen and I went back to Glasgow. That did cut me up a bit at the time but at least now I understood more of my sexual orientation and I gravitated to the gay and mixed clubs but the only member of my immediate family who knew of my lesbian orientation was Jiya. Some of my old school friends also knew but only those I could trust, because my mother was always one of those formidable characters who could exert some control.

And that brings me to the next year that stands out for me, 1997. It was the year I moved out of home to rent a room from Peggy and became involved with her. It was also the year Princess Diana was killed and those two events are inextricably linked in my mind.

Peggy or Leggy Peggy as I sometimes call her, was the victim of a burglary in January, 1997 and we were the cops who answered the call. I remember looking at her long legs and wondering if she had to shop around to find trousers that long. She was wearing a dark blue, pinstripe suit over a beige satin blouse and she had either an Australian or New Zealand accent.

"I wasn't expecting you so soon," she opened the door wider, "come in."

"Have you been home long?" I asked her.

"I just got home, saw the telly was gone and called the police, it's only been about fifteen minutes or so, that's why I was surprised."

I looked at my partner and he nodded.

"Just step outside please while we check the other rooms, WPC Konar will wait with you."

We got talking outside and I finally established her country of origin as Australia. She had lived in England before that and had only just moved to Scotland. She was a floor manager out at John Lewis in the city.

"I've been trying to get someone to rent the other room but I guess I'll have a harder battle now that I've been officially burgled."

I looked at her as the thought flashed through my mind but I was on duty and so I took down some more details and by then my partner had come out and we went inside to talk more. We established that several items were missing. The television set, a few CDs and the DVD player, they'd also rifled through her underwear drawer, probably looking for hidden cash by the looks of things but it's still disconcerting to think some strange man has pulled out your knickers. It was just one in a long string of burglaries that winter, and we had our suspects in mind and promised to get back to her as soon as possible.

I returned to the flat that night after my shift and Peggy was surprised to see me there again.

"Did you forget to ask me something or have you caught the burglars?"

"Em, it's the first one," I glanced over my shoulder, "but it's no' police business."

"Go on," her eyes narrowed.

"It's this room you've got for rent, I was wondering if I could have a look at it."

"You want to move in?" Peggy stared at me.

"Aye, I'm at home at the moment but I want to move out and cut the apron strings before they strangle me."

Peggy was studying me with a bemused expression. Her eyes flickered to my name badge.

"Konar," she murmured, "Indian or Pakistani?"

"Indian," I replied, "Alisha Konar."

"Alisha," she repeated my name, "it's a lovely name, it just rolls off your tongue, you've got a broad Scottish accent too."

"Aye, we were all born and raised here, it's only me ma' who was born in India."

"I don't care where you're from," she took a step back, "come on in and we'll talk."

"Thanks," I stepped inside.

"Are you working at the moment?" Peggy closed the door behind me.

"Just finished my shift but I thought I'd stop off at your bit on the way home."

"And where's home?"

"Bishopbriggs."

"I was going out with a guy from Bishopbriggs," she led me into the front room, "not long after I arrived here."

"Where are you from, originally?"

"Coolangatta," she replied and seeing the confused look on my place went on, "not far from Surfer's Paradise."

"So what brings you from Surfer's Paradise to Glasgow?"

"A long story," she shrugged.

"I was married for three years but when we broke up he started stalking me and the advice I got at the time was that perhaps I should relocate. I've got a British passport because I was born in Stirling but brought to Australia when I was a baby."

"So you've got dual citizenship?"

"No, I never took it out before I left and at the time I just wanted to escape my obsessed ex, so ditching the country altogether seemed the better course."

"But you could still move back but?"

"Ah that's a little more complicated," she replied, "I'd have to get sponsored by my family and fill out all kinds of visa conditions."

"Weird," I finally managed.

"It's a weird country," she looked at the door on the other side of the room, "um, I'll show you the rest of the flat."

The grand tour took all of three minutes, it had been recently refurbished by the previous owner and she told me that the boiler had also been renewed.

"I use the cupboard where the boiler is as an airing cupboard," she nodded at the room next to hers, "bathroom is there and in this would be your room," she opened another door, "apologies for the shitty view but as I was here first I get the room with a view."

The bedroom window looked onto the tiny back yard that was shared by two other tenants, an alley ran along behind the flats but it had a double bed and chest of drawers.

"If you wanna say it's crap you won't offend me," Peggy sat on the bed as I stared out the window, "but I can knock a bit off the rent if you like."

"No it's fine," I replied, "the rent is fine, the room is fine. When can I move in?"

"Just like that?" Peggy studied me, "you're easy pleased, you can move in whenever you want. Do you have much stuff?"

"Just clothes, my telly and the stereo," I opened the built in robe, "and everything will fit in here no bother."

"Okay," she leaned back on her palms, "so, what's your living situation like in Bishopbriggs?"

"I'm living with my parents, so I don't have any references."

"Except for the reference you're wearing," Peggy replied, "be different having a cop living here after what's just happened."

"About that," I frowned, "we are doing what we can to find the people who did it but I cannae get too involved in your case for obvious reasons."

"It's fine, I understand completely," she held her palm up, "I'd feel uncomfortable if you did a thing like that."

"Good," I exhaled, "em, is there anything you want to know about me?"

"Nope, nothing springs to mind. I do have a rule about not bringing guys home but that only applies to me, I would just ask that if you bring some guy home that I at least meet him."

"Em, you'll have nae problems there," I frowned as I contemplated outing myself but my natural caution combined with the opportunity to just move out overrode that impulse and I opted for a white lie.

"I mean if I meet someone at a club I go back to their bit, I'm a bit funny like that."

"Perfect," she stood up, "you fancy a cuppa? We'll work out the details."

I found myself warming to this Australian woman over a cup of coffee and yes I did check her out because I'm gay, but the impression I soon got was that Peggy was quite liberal, which made me feel more than a little guilty for not coming out. Nevertheless, I resolved that if she straight out asked me I wouldn't lie to her and when I left some forty minutes later she gave me the spare front door key.

"If I'm not home don't worry, I'll let the neighbours know you're moving in."

I remember lying in bed that night looking at things that were so familiar and wondering if I was doing the right thing. Logically it made sense, she was closer to the police station and a woman but that led me to my other reason, Peggy herself. I couldn't deny that I was attracted to Leggy Peggy, but I hadn't outed myself and she was straight. So, what was I doing? Did I really think that Peggy would just slide into bed with me? Was I just torturing myself? Or was there something else, a hint that Peggy might swing the other way?

At first though it seemed that my initial diagnosis was correct. Peggy didn't have a regular guy but she did like to go out to the clubs and pick guys up. In that way she was quite forward and almost butch now that I think about it. That first week she ran me through a long check-list of things she looked for in a man.

"He's got to have clean teeth and he's got to be clean, and spraying yourself with aftershave doesn't count as a shower. He's got to have a job because I don't want to be the one paying for everything, and he's got to respect my boundaries. I don't want a man coming back with me and then forgetting where he lives."

She was only three years older than me but could have been a good ten years in my eyes due to her confident nature and can do attitude. One episode in particular stands out in my mind and that was the day she got her first computer. I came home from an afternoon shift to find her studying the computer monitor on the table, a tower sat on the floor along with a rat's nest of cables, some of which led to a wall socket and the phone socket. She didn't even acknowledge my presence until I took off my jacket and moved around beside her.

"I bought a computer," she glanced up briefly.

"How?" I undid my cravat, "boys not enough for you?"

"That's just it," she leaned back as I undid my top button, "it's all I ever do on the fucking weekend, there's got to be more to life than guys. At this rate I'll be batting for the other team just for some variety."

I winced at that and Peggy leaned back.