A bloke’s talking to Sal on the sofa.  Unfortunately for him he’s using the same technique approximately 46 previous blokes have used.  It goes something like this:

JJ throws herself down on the sofa next to Sal.  “Orite, bird?”

Sal shakes her head.  “Bint,” she says, accent restored to Cardiff, “there are too many men out there with a thing for ‘exotic women.’”

“Can you blame them?” says JJ.

“Bah, infidel,” growls Sal, and pokes her in the ribs.  J squirms.

Kath leans over the back of the sofa.  “Salwa!  Another loser boy after your coffee-coloured delights?!”

Sal rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.

Martin plonks down on Sal’s other side.  “Go on, Sal, do us something in Egyptian, eh?”

JJ says: “Did he get that far?”

“Not nearly,” says Sal.  “They only get that far if they ask my fucking name first.”

“It’s like Arabic, isn’t it?” says Martin, who really is quite drunk.

Sal has a small, reluctant, sideways smile as she turns her head to him.  “It’s a form of Arabic, yeah, Martin, yeah...”

“I know some Arabic,” says Martin.

“I’ll just bet you fucking do.”

“I do,” says J.  “Imshi!”

“Yeah,” says Sal, rolling her eyes again.

“And ‘salaam,’” says Kath.

“Everyone knows that one,” says Sal.

“Insh’Allah,” says Martin, out of the blue.

“Oh, God,” says Sal.  “I’ve heard that one so many fucking times.  My mum should have it on her fucking arm.  Insh’A-fucking-llah.”

“What’s it mean?”

“Willa God,” says Martin abruptly again.

“Yeaaaah,” says Sal slowly.  “God willing, touch wood, insh’A-fucking-llah.”

J says hurriedly “Go on, teach us another.  What’s er...”

“Listen,” says Sal, “I don’t speak any Egyptian, not really.  I speak more German, fuck’s sake.  Dad’s Iraqi and mum’s Egyptian, remember?  So they speak sort of generic Arabic, and argue about it.  And all I know are the things my folks always say, like...”

“‘Salaam alaikum,’” says Kath.

“Well, kinda.  I hear ‘Y’allah!’ more often.”

“What’s that?”

“C’mere!”

“Heh heh.”

“And shokran – that’s thanks.  And ‘aini’ coz all my aunties say that.”  She looks round at them.  “S’like saying, er, ‘babe.’”

“Babe?”

“Well, ‘dear,’ or ‘love,’ I suppose.”

“Shokram, aini.”

“Hah hah.  It’s shokran, anyway.”

“Orite,” says J.  “Anyway, besides loverboy who’s just disqualified himself, anyone else here strike your fancy?”

“Not really,” says Sal.  “I mean, well – you’ll probably not understand this being in the love-bubble and all, but I’m enjoying being single, I really am.  Just not looking at the moment.”

“Ich, really?” says Kath.

“Yeah.  ’sides, I’m on the blob at the moment, so the thought makes me feel quite ill, frankly.”

The other women chuckle.  Martin lurches to his feet and staggers away.

“I’m for a drink,” says Kath.  “What y’all want?”

“Oh, I’ll come with you,” says JJ.

“Wait a sec,” says Sal, pushing to her feet from the embrace of the sofa.  They traipse into the kitchen.

“According to Cosmo,” says Kath, “some women get more horny on their period...”

“They’re freaks,” says Sal firmly.  “How could that possibly be?”

“You’re the freak,” says JJ to Kath.  “What’s a self-respecting queer woman doing reading Cosmo, fuck’s sake?”

Kath shrugs.  They potter for their various drinks.  The kitchen in full, for some reason, of women – some artists, but mostly people who just like Kiri and are more likely to pick up pencils because they don’t have a pen handy.  “It helps,” says Kath suddenly, “to have an idea what straight women are being told they are supposed to think.”

“Oh and come on,” says J, “and you’re saying Diva is any different?  ‘Fifty Vaguely Lesbian-Themed Films You Must Own’ – and incidentally can buy on our website – and How to Recycle.  Or: Why We Love to Hate to Love to Hate Angelina.  Or: How Soon is Too Early to Buy A Kitten Together?”

“Heh.  Sturdy-Yet-Trendy Shoes – We Test the Twenty Best.”

“Diva, how we love thee!”  JJ toasts the air.  There are ironic chuckles from some of the rest of the women, confirming several of J’s initial guesses.

Kath has found a crony and Sal and JJ throw themselves into low chairs while she chats to a skinny blonde woman in a plain white teeshirt perched on the edge of the table, legs swinging slightly.  They appear to be swapping gossip.  JJ raises her eyebrows at Sal, who grins, then looks away slightly as J yawns, and covers it by looking around the room with a swift hunching of her left shoulder.

“Listen,” Sal leans forward, JJ hunches towards her, “what do you think of this nail varnish?”  JJ stares.  “I mean, it’s a bit of a departure from my usual colour, but I think it could work.  What do you reckon?”

JJ gazes down at the proffered fingertips, blinking rapidly.  “They’re.  Orange.  Pinky-orange.”  She looks up.  “What?”

Sal grins.  “I like to test every so often.  You know.  What with Dan and all.”

“Eh?”

“Don’t worry, you still passed.”

“Passed?”

“Yeah: I call it my Still-Queer test for bi-girls.”

“Bint!” J swipes at her while she collapses in giggles.

Kath and Lisa look around.

“And did you hear?” says Lisa, “apparently Alison Poole is a lesbian!”

Katherine looks dubious.  She does her peculiar one-eyebrowed frown.  “And this is news?”

“She only came out like yesterday.  Finally told her mother and has now decided to tell everyone here tonight.”

“But I thought we all knew she was gay.”

“I did,” says JJ.  “About thirty seconds after meeting her.”

“Took me about ninety,” says Katherine.  “You can’t hurry your impressions.”

“Well, yeah, but the only person she was fooling was herself, surely.  And maybe dear old Mum.”

Sal nods.  Everyone looks at each other for a bit.

“I can’t believe you knew!” says Lisa.

“I can’t believe you didn’t,” says Katherine.  “For a start, look at her hair!”

“I have short hair,” counters Lisa immediately.

“Honey, it’s not the length...”

“But you can’t just go on people’s hair.”

“I only started with the hair.”

“So there’s a golden set of rules for spotting lesbians, is there?”

“Damned straight!” says JJ and half-winces until it’s clear no-one’s noticed the inadvertent pun.

“So it’s not just as simple as: has short hair, fancies women, is it?”

“A dyke can go for years without displaying those signs to the outside world,” says JJ.

“So when are you going to cut your hair?”

“Ah, that’s different,” says Katherine.  “Whenever you have exceptions to the rule, they’re always bi.”

“Every damn time,” says JJ.

“Go on, then,” says Lisa.  “Let’s hear these rules.”

“Weeell,” says JJ, “it’s not as simple as that, is it?  It’s often a gut feeling more than...”

“Aaaah!” says Lisa.

“Only,” says Katherine swiftly, “because we’re so good at spotting these ineluctable signs that it’s just become a wordless instinct, a pattern-spotting, reflex affair.

“Right.” says Lisa.  “Only I’m still waiting...”

“Okay then,” says Katherine.  “Comfortable shoes.”

“Giveaway,” says JJ, nodding.

“Stereotypical,” counters Lisa.

“Ignore stereotypes at your peril, Young Ms. Bennett.  There’s a lot of truth in them; why else do you think they survive?”

“Go on, then.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not just talking plain-arse DMs here – they can be funky, but they’ll be practical.”

“Converse.”

“Caterpillar.”

“Caterpillar’s pretty much a gimme.”

“Well, ’course...”

“What else?” interrupts Lisa.

“Silver jewellery,” says JJ promptly.  They hold up their hands, wiggle their fingers and then point to their ears.  Everyone nods.

“A fascination for piercings,” says Sal.

“Or tattoos,” says JJ.

“Or women with piercings or tattoos,” says Katherine.

“Being more like your dad than your mum,” says JJ.

“Really?” says Kath.  “Yeah, I guess so...”

“Gadgets,” says JJ firmly.

“Oh, of course.  Pockets.”

“Eh?” says Lisa.

“Clothes with pockets.  And actually putting stuff in them.”

JJ makes a breathy, whispered heeee sound.

“Kinda quirky job,” says Sal.

They look over at her.

“Okay,” says Kath, nodding slowly, “or hobbies, anyway.”

“Occupations,” says JJ, with a funny look in her eye.

“Done then,” agrees Kath.

“Bookshops,” says JJ.

Katherine grins.  “A fascination for acoustic guitars.”

“Or women playing them.”

“What’s this?” says Kiri, entering the room and heading for the fridge.

“Dyke-spotting,” says Kath, promptly.

“Ah,” says Kiri.  “You got piercings?”

“And tattoos,” says JJ.

“Comfortable...”

“... shoes,” they chorus.

“Okay, how about cats?”

“Cats!” says Kath.

“Motorbikes?”

“Or women on motorbikes,” nods Katherine.

“Ah,” says JJ, raising a finger.  She stands up and takes a few steps.  They watch.  She puts her hands in her pockets, hunches forward a little, and takes a few more.  “Uh?”

Katherine nods.  “The lesbian strut.”

“The boi-swagger,” says Kiri with her beer.  She smiles, enjoying the game, and perches on the edge of the table.

“Weeell,” says JJ.  “I didn’t exactly have room here – it’s more of that striding thing.”

“Walking like your dad.”

“Zackly.”  She pauses and looks thoughtful.  “And what’s that weird thing?”  She waves her hands vaguely and frowns.

“You’re talking about dykes love, you’d better narrow it down,” say Kath.

“That self-image misogyny, the hatred of the things in themselves that make them most female that they otherwise, you know, venerate in other women.”  The others look sober.  “Breasts, belly, hair, voice, you know.”

“Huh,” says Katherine.  “Yeah, I reckon.”

“Xena Warrior Princess,” says Sal, to break the tension.

“Old school,” rejoins Kath.  “But okay, still valid.  May as well say Wonder Woman while you’re at it.”

“Below average height,” says JJ.

“What?!”

“Yeah, right...”

“No, come on,” says J, pointing to her temples.  “Think about it.  And all the exceptions you’re going to tell me are bi.  Come on.  Below average height.”

They all stare silently to the side, and slowly refocus as they take on convinced expressions.

“Fuck me,” says Kath.  “There’s one, then.”

“Beer,” says Hannah from the doorway, waving hers.  Her newly-cropped hair no longer quite curls under its wax.

“From the bottle.”

“Stella.”

“Newkie Brown.”

“Carling.”

“Heineken.”

“Ok,” says Kath.

“How about music?” says Kiri.  “I’m thinking miserable indie or cheese.”

“Or both,” says JJ.

“Obsessing over crap TV just coz it’s got a lesbian storyline.  Like Bad Girls.”

“Or Emmerdale.”

“Mental health issues.”

“Bad poetry.”

“Writing it or reading it?”

“Both.”

“Ah.”

“Latent... aggression...” says Hannah.

“Okay...” says Kath.

“Angelina Jolie,” says JJ suddenly.

There is a moment of devotionary silence.

“Ah, Angelina,” says Katherine.  “The litmus test of lesbianism.”

“Emotional over-commitment,” says JJ.

“‘Where do lesbians go on the second date?’” says Katherine.

“‘The estate agents,’” chorus Kiri and Sal.  Lisa stares.

“I say: ‘the key-cutters,’” says JJ.

“Truer,” says Kath, “but less funny.”

“Because it’s less dramatic?”

“I guess so,” says Katherine.  “Isn’t humour supposed to work best when messing with schema for behaviour?”

“I forget you did Psychology.”

“You’d be amazed how often it’s useful in accountancy.”

“Would I?” says Kiri.

“No,” says Kath.  Their eyes meet, briefly.  They both smile slightly and Kiri drops her eyes.

“Small cars,” says JJ.  “Never met a dyke with a big car.”

“All right,” says Katherine.  “But is that only because you don’t know any dykes with children?”

“That’s a fair point, but I still reckon it holds true.”

“All right, then,” says Katherine.  “I suppose this is more a guide to spotting twenty-something dykes, anyhow.”

“Short fingernails,” says Kiri.

There are a whole lot of yeahs, chuckles and nods.  Lisa checks around quickly.

“Those porn women,” says JJ, “they’re not real lesbians.  Catch a dyke with long, squared-off fingernails.  She’d never pull!”

“Zackly,” says Hannah, and JJ throws her a quick look.  Nah, coincidence.

“Mullets,” says Sal.

“Only on your older lesbian,” says Katherine quickly.

“How come you know so much about this?” Lisa asks Sal.

She looks up at Lisa.  “I’ve been well-trained,” and smiles lazily.  Lisa blushes unaccountably.

“Part of them training you to solicit, is it?” says JJ, idly.

“Yeah,” says Sal slowly, with a neutral smile.

“‘Is it’?” says Kiri, slightly derisively.

“I know,” says JJ.  “P pulled me up on ‘fair play’ earlier.”

“How long have you lived here now?” says Kiri.

JJ rolls her eyes up slightly.  “Ehm, shit,.. five years now ish, I guess.  It’s hanging about with this one,” she waves towards Sal, “as well.”

“Tidy, butt,” says Sal promptly.  “Where are you to now then?” in a broad Cardiff accent that would do Colin Jackson proud.  “Whose coat is that jacket?”

“They’ll have you in that Goldie Lookin Chain,” says Kiri.

“Yeah, as a belly-dancer,” says Sal.  “As long as no-one compares me to Charlotte bloody Church that’s grand.”

“‘Grand’?” says JJ with a big grin.

“That’s your fault, that is,” says Sal.

“Blame P.  ‘Grand’s more Manchester than Consett.”

“Yeah, right...”

“So that’s how you could tell Ali was gay?” says Lisa, a little abruptly.  “She had all those?”

“Nah, you don’t have all of those.  Well, rarely,” concedes Katherine.

“Which ones then?”

“Hair, height,” she nods at J, “silver jewellery, androgynous clothes, ooh, we didn’t mention those, or that ‘shy around pretty women’ thing.  Or the no make-up thing.”

“Plenty dykes wear make-up, dude,” interjects JJ.  “And I’m not just talking bi-exceptions-to-the-rule thing.”

“Oh, come on...”

“Minimal make-up I’ll give ya – foundation and mascara and naught else.”

“Conceded,” says Kath.  “Aaand... she does pockets.”

“She does that.”

“But the main way you can tell?” says Kath, looking at Lisa.  “Major clue?  No queer woman – none – can...  Look, they have a complete, total and utter inability to be on time for anything.”

“What about...”

“No, she’s bi – I told you, any exception is a jinn, without question, though we’re just as prone.”

“Shit,” says Kiri, “you’re right.  I never hurry for coffee with you guys coz I know you’ll be late as well!”

“See?” says Katherine.  “Every damn time.”

“So true,” says Hannah.

“Absolutely,” says Sal.

“Genius,” says J.

They all look at Lisa silently.

“Shit,” she says after a while.  “Was it that obvious?”

“The jury was out for a while...” says Sal, kindly.

“... but you failed the Sal test,” concludes Katherine.

“What do you mean?!” chorus Sal and Lisa.

“Never mind,” says Katherine, looking round the kitchen absently with a faint but wicked grin.  “Besides, you went all fuzzy and licked your lips at Angelina.  Litmus test, I told ya.”

Her eyes widen.  “Oh, bloody hell,” she says to Kiri, “you have sambuca.  Anybody got a lighter?”

Flaming shots proceeds.  Rowdy female laughter filters witnesses.

Part 19

Part 21

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