Chapter 2

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.”

“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.

“Sorry, bad joke, I’m not but you know what I’m saying.”

“I do,” I stroked my throat.

It was only then that Peggy actually turned to look at me and I had the distinct impression that she’d seen something in my eyes that told her everything she needed to know.

“The bloke who delivered it for me offered to plug it all in and show me how it works,” she ran a hand through her hair, “but I have my rule and so I thanked him kindly and spent the next three hours plugging everything in and installing the operating system.”

“Good, good,” she moved the mouse, “I prefer this Netscape browser to Explorer though, all I have to do is work out how to make Netscape open a link first instead of Explorer.”

It was a problem that occupied her for the next hour or so and by the time I was getting undressed she had finally worked it out and came through to tell me all about it. I listened without the faintest idea what she was talking about and when she was finished Peggy grinned.

“I’ll show you how to set up a mail account, if you want.”

“Em,” I stared past her, “all right but tomorrow.”

“No worries,” she winked, “see ya tomorrow, sexy.”

I have fond memories of that Pentium because not only was I first introduced to the world wide web but it also drew us closer together. I was a sucker for information and even back then there was a lot of information out there. We had to learn the intricacies of Boolean search terms and waiting for a page to load gave you enough time to make a cup of tea or coffee. There was no You Tube or Google, instead we had Yahoo, Alta Vista and Lycos, but even so it had me hooked and because they were so prohibitively expensive we were stuck with one computer for the two of us, which also brought us closer together. I sourced my first encyclopedia Britannica on CD from one of my pals, who in turn got it from one of her ex boyfriends who worked down at the Barras market in the east end of Glasgow. Peggy’s eyes lit up when I held the disk up for her inspection.

“The whole Encyclopedia Britannica on one disc,” I looked at it reverently, “we’re going to be so smart by the end of the day.”

Thus, one of the earliest casualties of our venture out onto the Information Superhighway was our dating calendar. We still had dates, I was meeting women at clubs where gay and bisexual women met and she went to other clubs and it was while I was coming out of one of my clubs that I bumped into Peggy ambling down the street with two of her girlfriends. She just looked at the sign above the door, saw that I was arm in arm with a woman who had short hair and earrings and made the connection in a heartbeat. However she didn’t say anything until the following day when I came home after a day shift.