Work Text:
Carla arrived at Underworld that Monday morning, head held high, her coat wrapped around her to hide that she was thinner now, to hide that she hadn't slept for more than a few hours a night since she'd rocked back up in Weatherfield. If she held her head high enough, maybe no one would ask her any questions or give her any pitying looks, no one would ask her how she was in cloying tones, or apologise for something, even if they didn't know what they were apologising for.
Her act had been holding up really well until she'd seen Betsy.
Letting Betsy go home early was partially for her own sake, so Carla wouldn't have to see the reminder of how messed up her life was now, in the form of the blonde kid she’d once almost called her own, with wide, tearful eyes, a plaster on her forehead and the sleeves of her jumper pulled over her hands.
Everyone at the factory had the good sense to leave her alone until 11AM, when Sarah knocked gently, a steaming mug in one hand and a small envelope in the other.
"Come in." Carla muttered, not lifting her eyes again as Sarah put the mug gently on the desk.
"Lisa asked me to give this back to you, before everything happened." Sarah said gently, like her name alone would break Carla, and passed an envelope across the table. "It's your engagement ring."
Carla inhaled, the sharp sound cutting through the quiet room.
"I don't want it. She can have it back; she paid for it -"
"If you want to give it back, you can do it yourself, I'm just doing what she asked." Sarah said and reached over to squeeze her hand. "I'm really sorry, Carla, about everything. I can't imagine what you've been through in the last few weeks."
"Yep, it wasn't fun." Carla said, not looking up from her notebook. She knew she was being flippant, but being sincere would probably mean she would start crying, and she'd done enough crying over everything to last a lifetime.
"I'm always here to talk, okay? And if you need to take more time - we'll all be here, when you get back. We can keep this place afloat for as long as you need."
Carla looked up.
"Thank you." She said, and she meant it. "But I think here is the best place for me to be right now. Now -" She cleared her throat, and Sarah nodded.
"I'll leave you to get on with it." She said, as she stood up from the desk. "I'm really glad you're back, Carla."
It took Carla twenty minutes to work up the courage to open the envelope.
It was empty apart from the ring, nestled in the bottom, glinting under the factory lights. Carla could remember all those months ago, the ring sitting on her finger, and she'd been grinning to herself and watching it flash in the light when she was meant to be working.
She couldn't put it on, not yet, but it didn't seem right to stick it in a drawer or throw it in the canal. Instead, she unclipped her necklace chain, threaded the ring onto the necklace, and re-clasped it, so the ring was nestled against the pendant. Carla held the ring in her palm for a moment, before she tucked it under her shirt, so the ring rested against her chest.
///
Maybe checking in on Betsy after work had been a mistake.
Carla swallowed. The night air had hit her particularly hard, as she walked back to the hotel.
Scratch that – she knew checking on Betsy had been the right thing to do, because that kid had lost so much, and she deserved to know that – whatever was going to happen with her and Lisa – Carla would always be there for her.
12 years. The number rattled about in her head, had done so ever since Kit had given her a call earlier. She got 12 years.
The only mistake in going to number six had been looking up to see Lisa’s face, her pale, bruised and bloodied face, eyes shining, looking like she was about to collapse. The person who’d been keeping them apart was now inside for 12 years, and the only thing left was the chasm that yawned between them, of everything that had happened and of everything they’d said.
Carla almost didn’t notice Ryan when she got back to the hotel, until he rounded the counter and pulled her into a hug, something he’d done every time he could since she’d gotten back from her ordeal. Carla didn’t mind, even if she’d never admit it.
“Where’ve you been?” He said, finally letting her go.
“The house. Checked on Betsy.” Carla said. “The sentencing was today. She got 12 years.”
“Good.” Ryan muttered. “Throw away the key for all I care.”
Carla couldn’t help but agree.
"I've moved out, by the way." Ryan said, as he went back behind the counter, and Carla raised an eyebrow.
"To where?"
"To here! It's January, so it's dead quiet, and Debbie is letting me stay for free if I can be on call a bit more." Ryan shrugged. "It's fine."
"You don't have to -"
"I do! I'm your nephew, obviously I'm Team Carla in this."
"Yes, but -" Carla huffed. "Who does Lisa have in this? Who's on Team Lisa?"
Ryan looked at her.
"What?"
"You're still in love with her."
It wasn't a question. Carla didn't bother trying to deny it.
"It's not about that."
"That's the only thing this is about!"
"Ryan." Carla sighed. "Too much has happened!"
"The past isn't going anywhere." Ryan said. "It's the present and the future that counts now."
"I can't just move on like nothing happened -"
"No, I know, I don't think you should, but -" Ryan said. "If you still love her... that's worth something. That counts, y'know?"
"Love doesn't always fix everything." Carla muttered. "Not always. Not this time."
"It’s still important."
"Oh, Ry -" Carla sighed. "Your unending positivity isn't really what I need right now."
"Well... maybe you can go up to your room, and I'll bring you up a plate and a glass of red wine? 'Cause if it's not my positivity you need, maybe my cooking will do." Ryan said, a smile on his face, and Carla couldn’t help but match it.
"It's not like it's even you doing the cooking -" Carla said and squeezed his hand over the counter. "But – thank you."
"And a pudding?"
"Oh, yes please."
///
Sleep hadn’t been easy to come by since Carla had left the hospital.
Any room – any space – felt too enclosed at night, too dark, to suffocating, so she’d taken just sitting on the bed in her room, staring out the open window, and hoping sleep came eventually. The wind fluttered at the curtains, but Carla had requested an extortionate number of extra blankets and pillows – all delivered by Ryan – so she would never feel cold. Every lamp was turned on, bathing the room in a golden glow, and Carla stared out the window and counted the stars that at one point she thought she might never see again.
He phone buzzed, and Carla jumped.
"Lisa?" She said, as she recognised the familiar number, and flipped it open to answer the call.
Down the other end of the phone was a fuzzy static, and Carla almost hung up, until she realised - it was crying. Lisa was quietly crying down the phone.
"I'm sorry." She said, her voice hoarse and wobbly, and Carla felt her heart clench. "I – I had a nightmare, and I had to know – I had to hear your voice."
"Lise, It's okay. I'm fine."
"You weren't. You might not have been." Lisa sobbed, and Carla pulled her knees up to her chest. She knew the feeling, the cold dread that had swallowed her, suffocating her, when she saw that battered car at the side of the road. "I'm sorry, I'll hang up, please forget this ever happened -"
"No, wait." Carla said quickly. "I can't sleep either."
"Y-yeah?"
"Yeah, so, maybe – maybe we can just talk? If we both can't sleep."
"Okay. Yes. If that's what you want." Lisa said, her voice shaking.
There was silence.
"I'm – I'm not sure what to talk about." Lisa said, and Carla found herself smiling.
"I'm normally the one nattering on about something, ey?"
"I'm actually quite fond of your nattering." Lisa said, a smile in her voice.
"Well – what did you have for tea, in the end?"
"Oh, pizza. Shared a large one. Betsy insisted we get chips and ice cream too." Lisa said softly. "Thank you – for coming to check on her today."
"It's okay." Carla said and then shamelessly changed the subject away from anything serious or too close to her heart. "I've had my tea from the hotel; Ryan's been sneaking me a plate to eat in my room."
"Oh, yeah? What was it this evening?"
"Spag bol, but really fancy."
"With a little leaf on the top and everything?"
"Yeah! Why do they do that, ey? Who eats a normal spag bol and says, oh yeah, that was nice, but I really miss that little leaf?" Lisa giggled, and Carla felt her heart do something funny. "He got me garlic bread too, and a pudding."
"He's a good kid." Lisa said softly. "Is he okay? He said he's moved out, but -"
"He's living at the hotel for free, so he's alright."
"Oh, good." Lisa said, then sighed, a small sound. "We'll have to talk about that at some point – the house."
"Not at 1AM, please. I can barely get my head around the numbers in the middle of the day, let alone the middle of the night."
"Uh, I think you’ll be fine, I definitely remember you haggling over every last penny when we bought it. You got £500 knocked off because the fire alarms weren't up to date."
"Well, I am a good businesswoman." Carla said. "And I think you were the one who knew enough about fire alarm codes to point it out."
"You would not believe how often those codes come in handy -"
"Hey, maybe you can talk to me about fire codes? That'll send us right to sleep."
"I can. If you want?" Lisa sounded so nervous, and Carla nodded, before she remembered she was on the phone.
"Yeah. It's worth a try. Tell me about the fire codes."
When she awoke in the morning, her phone was beside the pillow, and Carla couldn't remember having fallen asleep.
///
Carl wasn’t sure what made her hit the call button the next night. Maybe it would be her new routine – finish work, eat the dinner Ryan brought her, have a bath, curl up in bed, look out the window, wait until the restless energy reached a fever pitch and ring Lisa.
"How was your day?" Lisa asked, voice soft. She didn’t seem surprised she’d called.
"Do you know how many ways you can fuck up sewing knickers? 'Cause I think I managed to see every one of them today."
Lisa snorted with laughter. "Seriously? Betsy as well?"
"Oh yes, she was too busy chatting and sewed some shut. That was one of the better ones."
"Do you want me to have a word?"
"It's okay, already did. More off a boss issue than a Mum one." Carla said, and then immediately regretted it. Maybe at one time she might have been starting to consider herself as Betsy's Mum, and Betsy might have been starting to see her that way too, but that felt like a long time ago now.
If Lisa was thinking the same, she didn't say anything.
"Is that why she was grumbling about her day when she got home?"
"Probably." Carla said softly. "She also drew the short straw and had to go and get tea and milk from the corner shop."
"That's just the job of every new person in a workplace. My first six months on the force were mostly refilling the precinct's biscuit tin."
"Which I'm sure you did excellently."
"I did! I don't know who does it now, but they only buy custard creams."
"Seriously? I thought everyone knew you hated them!" Carl said.
"I don't tell everyone -"
"We couldn't even keep them in the house, I haven't had one in six months -" Carla snorted, and there it was again, another reminder of the life they'd shared. "Sorry."
There was silence.
"You haven't done anything wrong, Carla." Lisa said, her voice soft. "There's no right way to do this."
Carla couldn't bring herself to reply, all the words caught in her throat. She took a leaf out of Lisa's book and swerved.
"I went for a checkup today, with the nephrologist."
"Oh? How did it go?"
"Awkward. They have you drink this disgusting liquid so they can do the scan -"
"Oh! The purple one?" Lisa said. "I remember that."
"Yeah, so I've been pissing purple all day."
Lisa laughed, the sound like music in her quiet room.
"I remember that too!" Lisa said. "Did they tell you how it went?"
"Yeah – all good. No lasting damage, not really." Carla said. "I'm on a higher dose of the anti-rejection meds, but they've said I can go down to the lower one in six weeks."
"Oh, good. I'm so glad." Lisa said softly. "Can – I – can I tell Betsy? Or would you text her? That's something she's been worried about."
"Yeah, 'course." Carla murmured. "I think – I need to go to bed."
Maybe it was too much too soon. Too much to think that she could call Lisa and feel okay with it and not like her heart was breaking all over again.
"Yeah, okay. If that’s what you need." Lisa sounded disappointed, but she quickly changed her tone. "I hope you sleep well."
"Thanks, you too." Carla said softly. "I'll call you tomorrow?"
“Of course. I’d like that.” Lisa said softly, and Carla hit the end call button before she could say something stupid like I think I’m still in love with you and it’s breaking my heart.
///
Carla couldn't concentrate, plagued by the same dream every time she closed her eyes.
No, not a dream – a memory.
Carla, aged 4, hungry and cold and itchy, tugging on the sleeve of her Mum's dressing gown.
Can I have some toast?
It had been the wrong thing to say, but she wasn't sure why, and the next thing she knew she was being dragged by her hair and pushed into a cupboard.
You can come out when you've learnt your lesson.
Carla, aged 4, cold and tired and hungry and itchy and heartbroken, curled up on an old coat, watching the light dance under the door, not sure what the lesson even was or how she would know when she'd learnt it.
She hadn't thought about the memory in years, but when she was curled up in that airing cupboard, limbs aching painfully, skin itching, her stomach throbbing, reminding her that her kidney could be failing her, she looked at the light under the door and thought about that little girl.
No one had come to save her then. She'd had to learn on her own – how to nick a loaf of bread from the corner shop and make her own toast, choking down the crusts because she couldn't waste them, cleaning herself in the sink with cold water and hand-soap, zipping Rob up in her coat before he went to sleep and curling up tightly next to him to keep them both warm.
Maybe that's what she'd spent the rest of her life running from.
Sometimes, when she could finally sleep, exhaustion overtaking her, she dreamt that the doors would fling open, and someone would be there, Ryan or Roy or Kit, but mostly Lisa, and it would be her who would open the doors, unbind her hands and feet, pull the disgusting tie from her mouth and pull her in for a hug. She'd help her get clean with her fancy soaps, and bring her tea and toast, wrap her up under clean sheets and press a kiss to her head. She would tell her – I never stopped looking for you. I never stopped loving you. You're my first choice, my only choice, and I'll never leave you.
No one came.
Becky opened the door to taunt her. To tell her how good Lisa was in bed. How much Lisa had missed her. How Carla had been a blip, a mistake, something to occupy her time whilst she waited for the love of her life to come back. Carla still had to take what Becky gave her, even if every cell in her body protested, told her to shut her mouth and refuse, because her will to survive was stronger than that, as she guzzled down the water that was tipped against her lips and swallowed the food that was spooned into her mouth.
Maybe that was the lesson her Mum had wanted her to learn.
The will to survive; a solid steel core, when everything else was stripped away it remained – the need to keep fighting, to put one foot in front of the other. To rip her way out of the tape with a plate shard. To give Betsy the coded message. To use the last of her energy to kick, kick, kick the side of the shipping container when she thought she heard the sound of someone talking outside.
After it was all over, when it really felt like it was over, she was sat in Roy's flat, knees pulled up to her chest, hungry and cold and itchy, and Roy brought her two slices of toast, the crusts cut off.
///
"I want to talk about it. About what happened. If you want to listen." Carla said softly. The phone was clutched in her hand, and her eyes were trained on the window, looking out at the warm yellow of the streetlamps and the faint glint of the stars, untouched by the light of the city.
It was all she'd wanted to do all day, as she looked over invoices and receipts and expenses, just crawl into bed and press that call button and tell Lisa everything, finally lift it from her heart.
"Yes, Carla, yes, of course." Lisa said, the words tumbling over each other.
There was silence, as Carla tried to find the words.
"Well – you've heard some of it from Kit, right?"
"Yes." Lisa said softly. "Costello tricked you into going to her flat."
"Yeah. She hit me over the back of the head, and when I woke up, I was tied up in the closet." Carla swallowed. "Hands and feet. I had a dressing gown tie in my mouth."
She could tell Lisa was trying not to cry, and Carla held onto the phone like a lifeline.
"Becky came over once or twice a day. Gave me water, my pills, took me to the bathroom. Food too, sometimes. But mostly... she just talked. Talked about you, and Betsy sometimes, but mostly you. She'd taken my phone, and she'd tell me what she was texting you."
There was silence.
"I … I riled her up. Me and my big mouth, ey? But then she threatened to start withholding my meds." Carla swallowed. "She threw a plate at me once, and I used a broken piece to get free. I hit her over the head, but she got me before I could leave. That's when the meds and the food stopped."
Lisa sobbed but quickly stifled the sound.
"Then I was in the boot of her car. Then – the shipping container. I don't remember much. It was just... cold." Carla said, unable to suppress the shaking from her voice. "I couldn't focus, I couldn't think, I just … I just felt cold."
From the other end of the line, she could hear Lisa was crying openly now.
"I don't blame you." Carla said and stared out the window to the inky black of the night sky.
"I would understand, if you did." Lisa said, her voice wobbling.
"I just..." Carla stopped, then took a deep breath. "Do you remember when you came to the factory, and stopped that bloke from hurting me? You flew in and pinned him to the wall. I just kept thinking – it would be you, who'd throw open the doors. You'd rescue me."
"If I'd have known, I promise, I promise I would have been there. Nothing could have kept me away."
"Would you? You were in the car, on your way to Spain. Even if you thought I was just on holiday, you didn't wait -"
"There was a fire in the orangery, and Becky said the gang had set it. Betsy was terrified, and I thought -" Lisa's voice broke. "I thought you hated me."
"We're going round in circles." Carla said softly, then laughed, a hollow sound. "She really did a number on us, huh?"
There was silence.
"That's all I can think about." Lisa said, her voice soft and far away. "It's you, and her, and what happened, and then my life before that. All those years. Betsy's whole life." She sighed, the sound coming like static down the phone. "I don't even know what was real."
"What do you mean?"
"She had a way... a way of making me feel, like her thoughts were my thoughts. What she wanted was what I wanted. Who she thought I was … that's who I was. So, when she died – I felt like – like I didn't know who I was, that I didn't have anything, not even my own mind. I was … hollow. Then she came back, and it felt easier to be like that again, to be that empty person." Lisa swallowed. "I know it doesn't make any sense -"
"No, it does." Carla said. "Am I the first person you've told that to?"
"Oh, you were the first person I told anything to." Lisa said. "You always made me feel like... you wanted to listen to me. Like I had something worth listening to. Outside of work, I'm not sure if that had ever happened before."
There was silence again, and Carla watched as the blue and red siren cut through the yellow light outside.
"Carla... I'm so sorry that happened to you." Lisa said, the pain in her voice so clear, and Carla shut her eyes. "You can always talk to me. About anything."
"Promise?"
"That's how we've always been, right? Even when we had nothing, we could always talk to each other." Lisa said softly.
Even when we had nothing. It felt like they had nothing now, separated by space and everything else.
"You can tell me anything too." Carla said softly. "Promise."
///
"I went to the solicitors today, to start the divorce proceedings." Lisa said softly. "I had to explain it - all of it - and you know what the solicitor said?"
"What?"
"Oh, heck."
Carla burst out laughing.
She’d gone almost the whole day feeling normal – a little lighter, the same way she always did when she spoke to Lisa about something that important. They’d managed to get an important order out at the factory by midday, and dinner had been lasagna - Ryan had thought she was losing it when she burst out laughing at the basil leaf on the top. Her bath had been just the right temperature, she’d had sticky toffee pudding for dessert, and now she was listening to Lisa’s voice and staring out at the cloudy night sky.
"I know, right?" Lisa said, laughter in her voice. "But then he was right on it, walking me through my options. He thinks - with the death certificate - he can argue to a judge that I was divorced at that point. That way we can sidestep any claim she would have to anything that happened in the last four years."
"Do you think she'll push back on that?"
"No idea." Lisa said softly. "But - now - anything she can do is just around money. She didn't leave me a lot when she … died. Almost all of it is in trust to Betsy, and if she wants to take that …" Lisa trailed off. "I'm taking the easy route. Whatever will get her out of my life the fastest."
"If she comes after Betsy's money… it's actually my money now, from selling the Rovers. The original money is this kidney. So, she's got no claim to it."
"I'll work it out." Lisa said softly.
"I don't think you should give her any money -" Carla started, but Lisa spoke up.
"I don't want her to have any, but I don't want her to have anything over me or Betsy. I want it to be over, to never have to think about her again."
“Do you?” Carla wasn’t sure where the question came from.
There was silence
“Carla ...”
“I -” Carla wasn’t sure where the desire to ask had come from, all of a sudden. Maybe it was the final thing she really needed to know. “You slept together. That’s what I can’t get past.”
The silence lasted so long, Carla almost thought she’d hung up.
"I just wanted to stop feeling so awful." Lisa said, her voice hollow. "But – it – it made me feel so much worse. I couldn't sleep afterwards, I just... laid awake."
There was silence.
"If I'd have known – I would never have done it. I'm not -" Lisa swallowed. "I'm not sure if I wanted to do it then. I just – I wanted it all to stop."
Carla stayed on the line as Lisa trailed off and stared at the ceiling.
Lisa was crying.
"Will you stay on the call with me? Until I fall asleep?" Carla said, barely more than a whisper.
"Yes. Of course." Lisa said, her voice thick with tears.
"Goodnight, Lise." Carla said softly.
When she awoke, the call was still running, and Carla could hear the soft sounds of Lisa, asleep on the other end of the line.
///
Carla hadn't been at work long when Betsy, the blonde whirlwind she was, appeared in her office without knocking.
"Doesn't anyone wait for -"
Carla stopped as soon as she saw the tears in her eyes.
"Lovey? What's wrong?"
"Mum actually wants to move out, she was looking at flats last night, flats in Manchester and even further away." Betsy said, tears on her cheeks, her voice high and panicked. "She's talking about getting a transfer to a new precinct - she wants to leave here, forever."
"Betsy… that's up to her. To you both." Carla said, even if every cell in her body protested.
It’s our house. Don’t leave it. Don’t leave me -
"So, it didn't mean anything? Our house? You two getting engaged?" Betsy said, arms crossed.
"Sit down, okay? Let’s talk about it.” Carla said. For a moment, she thought Betsy might not, but eventually the teenager relented and sat at her desk, arms still crossed.
“So? What?”
Carla sighed. “A lot has happened since then -"
"I know, I just think -" Betsy sniffed. "I don't want it to ruin everything. It was - it was really good, before. I couldn't always see it then, but now I know -" Betsy said, and her gaze dropped to her hands. "I'm so sorry. I should never have believed her."
Carla swallowed, and bit back the tears in her eyes. Betsy didn’t need her crying now.
"Betsy, love -" Carla said softly. "Becky's your Mum, she came back from the dead. I don't blame you for wanting to believe her."
"I'm the one who pushed Mum to go to Spain." Betsy said, her voice wavering. "I really pushed, because I was scared, and I was angry that you'd fucked off and she was left crying every night. I'm sure she wouldn't have gone if it wasn't for me."
"I'm not looking to blame you -"
"I just don't want you to blame Mum either." Betsy said. "She was being manipulated and gaslit and -"
"I don't blame her either, not really." Carla said, her voice soft. "The person I blame is sitting in a jail cell. But - it doesn't change that it happened. What we said to each other."
"You still love her though, right? Because she loves you."
"Betsy …"
"I know you call each other every night." Betsy said, her voice resolute, as if daring Carla to challenge her. "She cries afterwards, I can hear her through the walls."
She wasn’t pulling her punches, and Carla wasn’t sure her heart could take being punched any more.
"Love, I'm not putting you in the middle of this." Carla said quietly. "This is between me and your Mum."
"But it's my life too."
"I'm still here. Even if me and your Mum aren't together anymore, I'm here for you, okay? You can always talk to me."
There was silence.
“You said to me once... ages and ages ago. When I was being a right piece of shit -” Carla couldn’t help but laugh at that, and Betsy smiled. “You said, what about your Mum? Doesn’t she deserve to be happy? And I understand that now. Because – if she leaves – if we leave – this is over, and I don’t think she’ll ever be happy again.” Betsy looked up. “I know I’ve got you. I’m not leaving here. But who does she have? Who makes her happy?”
“Oh, Bets -” Carla said, and her voice broke, and she quickly wiped the tears from her eyes.
“I just think – you should -” Betsy huffed and wiped at her own tears. “Talk, maybe? I don’t know.” She stood up, and Carla mirrored her, and Betsy stepped forward to pull her into a hug.
///
Sometimes, she dreamt of the crash.
Shaking in the passenger seat of Kit’s car, which smelt of travel sweets for some reason. Carla thought about asking why. Instead, she just listened as Kit just talked, filling her in on everything that had happened since she’d been missing, and Carla told him what had happened to her too, and hoped deep down that this would count as making her statement to the police, as she guzzled water and ate three energy gel thingys that Kit had in his glove compartment.
When she got through to Lisa, the phone clutched in her hand, it felt like she could breathe again.
Hiya, Ryan.
“Lisa.” She breathed, the name on her lips like a promise. “Lise - don’t react. It’s me. You’re in danger. If you understand, ask me about the wedding.”
How’s the wedding?
When they drove up to the crash, when she saw the car -
Lisa was more blood than blonde, her beautiful face marred with cuts and scrapes where the glass had punctured her skin, and Carla didn’t realise she was screaming her name until she got to the car. She could see Becky too – out cold or dead, she didn’t care – and Betsy – oh, God, Betsy –
She could breathe again when she saw Betsy stir, when she managed to get her out, reassuring her the whole time, and she could hug her tightly again. Then, she was by Lisa’s side, holding her hand tightly and promising to never let go.
It was always different in her dreams – maybe Lisa had more blood on her head or coming from her nose, maybe that hand she held was cold, but she held it, nonetheless. In her dreams, she talked more, she spilled out her heart all over the blood-soaked road – I came as soon as I could. I never stopped loving you, I'll never leave you. I’m here for you now.
After it was over, when it really was all over, Carla was sat on the end of Lisa’s hospital bed, still shaking from the adrenaline, not able to gather the strength to look at her, but not strong enough to leave her side either.
///
23:48 - Lisa
Can we meet for lunch tomorrow? At the hotel – I've booked a table for 12:30. I’d like to talk x
The text had come through the previous night. Carla hadn’t replied.
They hadn’t really spoken face to face since she’d gone to check on Betsy, and it felt like a step she wasn’t sure she was prepared to take yet. It felt far more intimate, far more serious than calling every night, and it was in public, away from the safety of their respective bedrooms.
She was probably still going to go. True love, and all that bollocks.
Carla still couldn’t reply, the stubborn part of her thinking back to the day she’d been stood up for lunch and wanting Lisa to live with a little bit of that fear, but she’d never intended to be three hours late –
Ryan had caught her before she even reached the front desk, an awkward expression on his face.
“What?”
“Uh …” Ryan swallowed. “I just …”
“Spit it out, ‘cause I said I’d meet -” Carla snapped, already looking for her, but Ryan interrupted her.
“There may or may not be a pretty drunk copper in your room.”
“What?” Carla crossed her arms.
“She was here. She said she was meeting you; she came in at half 11, and – uh – well I’m not the one who served her two bottles of wine -”
“Two entire bottles?”
“And olives.”
“That doesn’t counteract -” Carla sighed. “Is she okay? Is anyone with her?”
“Sorry - I’m still at work.” Ryan said, and gestured to the front desk. “I only took her up twenty minutes ago, ‘cause she was starting to sing.”
“Right, okay.” Carla muttered. This wasn’t how she wanted the day to go, but, knowing Lisa’s coping mechanisms, it was probably the only way it could go. “I’ll go. But stay by the phone, okay? In case I need you.”
“Yeah, ‘course.” Ryan said, then gave her a half smile. “Good luck!”
Carla rolled her eyes, but it helped, a little, as she steeled herself to walk through the lobby and to the lift.
When she opened her door, the room was empty.
No, not empty – blonde hair –
Lisa was sat on the floor, back against the bed, staring out the window. When she heard the door open, she whirled around, stumbling upright. She’d gotten dressed up, her velvet blazer and trousers, she’d curled her hair and put on a smoky eye, but she was just in her socks, her heels kicked off somewhere in the room. In one hand she was loosely holding a bottle of wine, and a huge bouquet of flowers had been abandoned on the desk next to her.
They stood at each-other and stared. Lisa wobbled, then hiccupped.
“I knew – I knew you were always good for red wine.” Lisa said and waved the bottle. She looked terrified, a nervous smile on her face, eyes wide.
"Lisa… why did you get so drunk?" It was all Carla could think to say.
"Got scared." Lisa said, eyes watery and glassy.
"Of what?"
"Thought you weren't coming." Lisa said, then hiccupped again.
"I got held up with a client." Carla said softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't text, I wanted to see … see if you'd stick around."
"Oh, I would have been there all day if I had to, but Ryan said I was being loud." Lisa hiccupped again.
"Darling…"
Lisa shook her head. "Not anymore, right? 'Cause I messed up. I messed up so badly. Bad girlfriend. Bad fiancée. Bad Mum. Bad copper." Lisa hiccupped again. "Bad person."
"I don't think you're a bad person."
"But you don't love me anymore."
“I don't want to do this when you're plastered. You're not going to believe me, and you won't remember any of this tomorrow."
Lisa hiccupped again.
"I think... we should try again another day." Carla said, and Lisa shook her head, suddenly stumbling towards her.
"No, no – please – please don't make me go – I can't -" Her chest heaved. "I can't sleep alone, not again, not another night - please. Please, Carla, I can't -" She hiccupped again, then retched, and Carla moved towards her as fast as she could and took Lisa’s hand, then yanked her towards the bathroom, and she just made it to the toilet before she vomited. Carla pulled back her curls from around her face as Lisa retched, more bile coming up.
"Please, please, Carla, I can't -" Lisa squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to get the words out, her whole body shaking.
"It's okay, darling, you can stay here tonight." Carla murmured. "Just for tonight, okay? Just for tonight."
"Thank you." Lisa said, and sat upright, and Carla still had her hand tangled in her hair. They were sat so close. Lisa's bottom lip wobbled, and she blinked, and then she was crying in earnest. "I thought you weren't coming -" She sobbed, and something in Carla broke. “I was so scared -”
"Come here, sweetheart." Carla said softly, and Lisa ducked forward and tucked herself up into her arms.
They hadn't touched since Carla had held onto Lisa's hand for dear life in the wreck, and now Lisa was everywhere, pressed against her, her head on her shoulder, tears soaking onto her shoulder, one hand splayed on her back, the other tightly holding onto her blouse. Carla found herself resuming familiar patterns – stroking Lisa's hair a with one hand and holding her upright with the other. She felt just the same, her hair was still silky soft, the weight in her lap felt so familiar, just like before -
Just like before.
Carla leant back against the doorframe and held on as tight as she could.
///
The curtains were still open, as they had been every night before, but now the morning light filtered onto pillow and illuminated Lisa. Her hair seemed to glow, the curls now ruined but still fine and pale like silk, and her face was soft, make up smudged across her under eyes, lips slightly parted, eyes dancing underneath violet lids. She was still dressed in her jacket and shirt, a few buttons undone.
Lisa was almost asleep on her shoulder when Carla finally knew she needed to get up from the cold, hard bathroom floor, and she gently shook her awake and led Lisa to the bed. Lisa had fallen back asleep immediately, and Carla was struck with a terrible feeling of de-ja-vu as she pulled the blanket over her and left to get changed in the bathroom.
It was the best night's sleep she'd had in months, next to the woman who'd broken her heart, who snored like crazy and smelt of white wine and olives.
Carla wasn't sure how long she lay there, just looking at the rise and fall of her chest.
When Lisa started to stir, Carla scarpered, dressing as quietly as she could and slipping her shoes on, leaving before she could wake up, but not before depositing a glass of water and a box of painkillers on the bedside table.
The walk to Underworld was cold, but it sobered her up a little, and she could think a little clearer now she wasn't in the bed they'd just shared. She felt herself relax as she unlocked the doors and entered her office, the one space she could call all her own.
No one was in yet. Carla had the whole factory to herself.
She couldn’t focus on the pile of emails she had to deal with.
All that was running through her mind was the memory of the previous time this had happened – soft, drunk Lisa telling her that, of course she had to have lager in the fridge, for emergencies, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Carla had made her a nice mug of tea and before she’d even made it back to the couch, Lisa was curled up on a throw pillow, tucked in on herself and fast asleep.
That night, Carla had gone to bed alone, and she remembered laying there, butterflies in her stomach.
It was the next day that they’d kissed for the first time, when she’d gathered all the confidence she could, and said those words -
Don’t get dressed.
What would she have said, if she could go back and interrupt herself just before that, and speak to the Carla who was fumbling with her keys and desperately hoping the detective hadn't scarpered already?
Oh, love, don't bother. She's got a mouthy teenager with an arrest list longer than her arm, most of which involve Underworld somehow. And Lisa? You wouldn't believe her - she runs the moment it gets too emotionally intimate; she couldn't talk about her feelings if her life depended on it, and she's so dedicated to her job that some days you barely see her. Also, cherry on top, that dead wife that she's hung up on? Not actually dead! She'll come back, kidnap you and try to kill you, whilst she manipulates your family into swanning off to Spain with her. So, probably best to tell Lisa to sling her hook now and go find some other blonde to fall in love with.
Carla swallowed. She knew, deep down, she wouldn't say any of that. To her younger self, the one who was terrified and excited and nervous all at once about the idea of liking a woman, this woman, this maddeningly complicated, beautiful woman - she would probably give her a hug.
It's not going to be easy. You go through more in two years than most people go through in a lifetime, but - all the pain, the trauma, the horrible things that are going to happen are made a thousand times more bearable simply because she's going to be there to hold your hand. When you're together, you feel like you can take on the world. Lisa - she's beautiful, inside and out, she's soft and protective and loving, she was so patient when I was in the hospital. She kisses the transplant scars like they're beautiful. She can't go to a pub quiz without taking it too seriously, she can't sing to save her life but she sings in the shower when she's happy, the first thing she does when she gets home is undoes the button at her collar and the last thing she does before she falls asleep is says I love you. And Betsy's a good kid, really, and she grows so much, and now she's 18 with a good head on her shoulders, and you're going to feel so proud of her, and proud of the tiny part you played in helping her grow up. Together, the three of you are a family, with Ryan too, a weird sort of cobbled together family, and it works, in the end.
Carla wasn't sure when she’d started to cry.
///
She left early. Couldn’t focus. She told Sarah it was because she was tired.
When Carla pushed the door open, she found the hotel room empty.
She'd expected that.
Lisa, when anxious and unsure, tended to run, or pace like a caged animal, and she wouldn't have been able to relax until she was back in familiar surroundings – the precinct, or their house.
Carla dropped her purse and coat down on the armchair, and sat on the bed, pulling off her boots and letting herself breathe. It was then that she noticed the piece of paper, folded and left on her pillow.
She unfolded it with shaking hands.
It was a letter, on smart hotel stationary, written in Lisa's functional, scratchy handwriting.
Carla,
You told me once I was a coward, and I know that's true. I knew I couldn't do this face to face, or even over the phone, so I decided to write it down. Please hear me out, and then we don't ever have to see each other again, if that’s what you want.
I love you. I never stopped loving you, from the moment you first held me, and I don't think I'll ever stop loving you, even if we never see each other again.
You will never know how truly sorry I am for how I've been for the past few months; for everything I allowed to happen. My worst fear is that I've broken everything beyond repair, and if I have, I understand that, but if there's any chance I haven't, please know that I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.
You've changed my life. You brought the colour back in; being with you felt like the sun had turned to face me for the first time in years. Carla, you're incredible, you gave me and Betsy so many second chances, you're kind and courageous and honest, you're my favourite person. I was so proud to tell people we were together. I knew I could get through anything if I got to come home to you at the end of the day, to cuddle on our sofa and watch some rom com you'll pretend to hate.
If this is goodbye, then I want you to know that you can't possibly imagine how much you've changed my life for the better, how you put me back together, how much you've helped Betsy, how completely and utterly I am in love with you.
Take care.
Yours, always yours,
Lisa
Carla traced her finger over the word. Yours.
///
It really was meant to be just a walk.
It was a walk – Carla wasn’t sure how her feet had taken her to Number 6, to the garden path, to the door. The fact that she’d put the keys, along with the letter, in her pocket before she left was just a matter of habit.
She fumbled with the keys in the lock, looking around furtively in case Tracy showed up again like a bitchy jack in the box, but no one was around, and she pushed the door open.
"Carla?"
Lisa was in the kitchen, eyes wide, looking tired and pale and oh so beautiful.
"Hey." Carla said softly.
"Betsy's not here, she's -"
"I know. I came to see you."
Lisa's breath hitched. "You read it?"
"Yeah." Carla said softly. "Are you leaving?"
"Depends." Lisa said, a nervous half smile on her face.
"On what?"
"On you."
"If I asked you to leave, would you?"
Lisa's face fell, and she ducked her head to focus on her hands.
"I would. Of course I would. I can leave whenever you want -"
"And if I asked you to stay?"
Lisa looked up, the pain and hope written on her face, plain as day, and Carla strode forwards; she couldn't bear to leave her any longer.
"Stay, please, I don't want you to go, not now, not ever." Carla said softly, when she finally reached her, her hand coming up to thread their fingers together, hands resting on the kitchen island. "I don't know how we're going to get through this, but I do know I can't lose you. I want to move back here and sleep next to you every night – but I need to know, to be completely sure that's what you want too."
"Oh, Carla, it's all I want. It's all I've ever wanted." Lisa said, her voice breathy. She was looking at her like Carla had hung up all the stars, and Carla couldn’t help herself, and cupped her face in both hands.
“It’s all I want too.” She said softly.
“I can’t believe you came back, I thought -” Lisa swallowed, her throat bobbing. “I thought I’d ruined it completely.”
“What, getting drunk and falling asleep in your clothes? Nah, it kind of reminded me why I fell in love with you in the first place.” Carla said, and Lisa surged forwards and wrapped her in a tight hug, and Carla finally felt whole again.
When they pulled back, Lisa was crying, tears staining her face.
Carla bit her lip. They were so close. “I want – I want to take this slow, but – can I kiss you?”
“That’s all I want.” Lisa said, her voice oh so reverent, and Carla moved down to kiss her, and it felt like warmth and safety and coming home all at once.
///
It was a strange afternoon – Carla was emotionally exhausted, and she couldn't imagine how Lisa was feeling – wrung out and hungover all at once, so they ended up on the couch, sort of cuddling, two cups of tea steaming in front of them, something playing on the TV that neither of them were watching.
"Yeah, and then she said – I know she's turned you, but I didn't realise she's turned you into a doormat." Carla snorted, and Lisa winced.
"Ouch!" She said, then frowned. "Seriously? I bought your flowers from her the next day! And she took my money, just like that? What a cow. Wish I hadn't bothered now."
"Lise, they're very beautiful." Carla said, a smile on her face.
"They should be, they cost £140!" Lisa huffed. "Can we open our own florists? Put her out of business?"
"You? Messing about with flowers all day? You know there wouldn't be any bad guys to catch in a florists -"
"Actually, flower smuggling is a big issue, I once caught a man with five thousand tulips in the back of his van. Trouble was, he was allergic, and he sneezed so hard he crashed into the hard shoulder."
Carla couldn't help but laugh. "Caught him? He caught himself!"
"I was there! I arrested him."
"What did you do with all the flowers?"
"Entered them into evidence." Lisa sighed. "It was a real waste."
As Lisa adjusted the pillow on her lap. Carla realised something
"You... you kept it on?"
She moved and took Lisa’s hand in her own, her thumb playing with the glittering band on her finger.
"I put it back on, after the crash." Lisa said softly. "I gave yours to Sarah, to give back to you -"
"She did." Carla murmured and pulled the necklace chain out from underneath her top and let the pendant and ring rest against her shirt. "I can't – not yet, but it's here with me, all the time."
Lisa nodded, then took a deep breath.
"When you're ready - if you're ever ready - then - then can I put it back on for you? Please?"
"When I'm ready - of course you can." Carla said and intertwined their fingers, as she pulled Lisa in for another kiss.
"Carla?"
Betsy stood in the doorway, eyes wide, as they both scrambled up off of the sofa like they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t.
"Hey, kiddo." Carla said, strangely nervous, as Betsy looked between them, a grin forming on her face.
"That was - you two were cuddling! Are you back together? Are you moving back in?"
"I'm moving back in." Carla said, trying to sidestep the question, and Betsy squealed in delight.
"Yes! So we're not leaving?"
"No, darling, we're all staying here. Together." Lisa said softly. Before she could say anything else, Betsy had dropped her bags, rounded the sofa, and pulled Carla into a hug.
"Thanks for coming back." She said softly, and Carla gave her a squeeze, suddenly at a loss for words. "Mum, get in here."
Carla looked up, and she could see the open adoration on her face, before Lisa stepped forward and pulled them both into a hug.
"Now we just need Ryan back and then we're back to normal."
"Betsy …" Lisa said softly. "It's not going to be how it was before."
"It's going to take time." Carla said, a concession. "But I'm staying, okay? We all are."
Betsy didn’t say anything, just squeezed her tightly, and Carla knew what she meant.