I know people have done this already, but I thought I'd have a go at writing my interpretation of the rape anniversary myself. I've set it so that Carla and Peter are still at home, purely for ease of writing and so I could use a wider range of characters.
This will probably end up being 2 or 3 chapters long, uploaded over the next few days.
7:00
The piercing sound of her alarm would have jolted her aggressively awake had she managed to have enjoyed the luxury of sleep that night as it cut violently through the silence of the flat, cruelly symbolic of the painful memories that awaited her today. Usually it took a few moments to remember through her sleepless daze the sheer hell that her life had become, but today had no such mercy. In that split second she was all too aware what day it was. September 19th 2012: Exactly a year to the day since her life had been changed irreplaceably by the act of one man.
Carla rolled reluctantly out of bed, her feet hitting the floor first, with her head the last to leave the bed. it was only when she grabbed her dressing gown and headed for the bedroom door that she realised, or at least acknowledged, that she was alone. Peter's side of the bed was made up in a way that made it difficult to tell if it had been slept in or not, and felt a confused sense of both fear and anger as she pondered why someone who professed to care so much had seemingly abandoned her. 'It really comes to something' she thought, when a midnight bender and nipping out for the morning papers are equal odds'.
Her morning coffee tasted that bit more bitter as she perched awkwardly on the edge of her sofa. She still didn't feel entirely comfortable in the flat alone at the best of times, and today certainly wasn't that. It wasn't so much that she didn't feel welcome there, more that she wasn't sure she deserved to. After all these months and all those (albeit half-hearted) reassurances, she couldn't shake the thought that a mere 12 months ago, the very man who now told her he loved her and had no interest in her perceived love rival had been telling his wife the exact same thing. She'd gone from some kind of Siren, to a close friend, to the love of his love so fast she should've had a nose bleed, and on her low days, of which there were many, Carla couldn't quite bring herself to fully trust his words. She still half expected Leanne to casually walk back in, telling her that it was all back on between the two of them and that she should pack quickly and leave quietly without a fuss thanks very much.
The clicking shut of the door downstairs caused her to jolt so violently the scolding contents of her mug spilled over the edge of it's slightly chipped surface and as she reached for the nearest thing to clean it with the rhythmic pounding of the stairs felt like a drum roll before some kind of horrible surprise. She hated herself for it, but Carla realised that the quickening of her heart rate and the slight tension in her chest were a sign of fear. She made sure not to spin round too quickly as the door opened and Peter appeared, two straining bags in his hands and a grin that she couldn't quite read.
"You're up". He stated the obvious, placing the bags down on the kitchen counter with an unusual amount of care.
"No Peter, I'm just an illusion. The real Carla's still in bed".
He didn't even smile. "Couldn't sleep. eh? Can't say I blame you, I mean-"
"I slept fine, thanks" she lied, a note of frustration in her voice. The I injured look on his face sent that familiar feeling of guilt through her, and the dropping of her shoulders was almost a reflex. "I didn't hear you leave this morning."
"Yeah, well I thought I'd get some bits before you woke up. Clearly failed there". he forced an uncomfortable smile.
"Sorry".
He paused for a moment, before shaking his head. "Please don't tell me you're going to work?"
Carla stood up, annoyed yet at the same time secretly relieved that he'd at least remembered the date. Neither had mentioned it the previous day, a mutual, unspoken respect for the other's feelings. It had merely sat there, there elephant in the room, the dark cloud looming over that neither dared to name.
"Why wouldn't I?"
He moved closer to her, but she stepped back the same distance, maintaining the gap between them.
"Why? Because, Carla...-"
"Because a year ago today that sick monster raped me." The bluntnes of her statement seemed to momentarily stun her boyfriend, and for a moment neither said a word. "I know what day it is Peter. But it's just that, a date. it doesn't mean anything, except maybe that it's well and truly in the past."
He softened now, still seemingly unsure of whether it was safe to step any closer, but his face was sympathetic, understanding in his own way. "I'm not gonna sit here and stare at the walls all day because of him. I won, he's gone and I'm still here. And that's what matters".
"Ok". He was far from convinced, she could see that, but to her relief he seemed to know her well enough by now to know not to challenge her. "But first. ." he pulled a packet of bacon from one of the bags like it was a rabbit out of a hat, "You're gonna have. decent breakfast. No arguments."
She smiled. "As if anything out of that frying pan would ever be decent". As they exchamnged their mutual, pretending-everything-is-fine superficial grins, Carla scoffed to herself.
'A fry up. that'll make everything alright!'
8:45
She noticed the drop in volume the second her foot hit the final step into the factory as they tried to make it less obvious they were staring at her. They all knew the date too, no doubt that was what they'd been gabbering about before she'd arrived. But they all had either too much consideration or not enough guts to say anything to her face. "Morning Mrs Connor," Hayley eventually piped up in her usually chirpy tone.
Carla merely smiled back in response, hoping the speed at which she darted into the relative safety of the office would go unnoticed, knowing all the while that of course it wouldn't.
From one set of well-meaning observers to another, Michelle stood as though to attention on the beat of the office door opening. "Carla." Her tone soft, intending to come across as caring, yet falling somewhere between patronising and stunned at her former sister in law even had the strength to get out of bed On A Day Like This.
"Morning". She swung her bag onto the table, falling slightly more heavily than intended into her chair in the same movement.
"I wasn't sure if you'd he coming in today" Michelle said tactfully.
Carla smiled, relieved that at least she wasn't being thrown back out of the door and told to go home and 'rest'. "Yeah, well. If Peter had his way I'd be sat at home so he could wrap me up in cotton wool and wipe the tears he thinks I crying" she replied, rolling her eyes.
"He just cares, Car" Michelle grinned, reaching for her empty mug across the desk".
"I know," she sighed. "There's a fine line between sympathy and suffocating me, y'know? I mean if I hid myself away on the anniversary of anything bad happening I'd never be here!"
Michelle smiled in response, knowing better than to challenge her, especially over this kind of subject matter. "Coffee?"
"When have I ever knowingly refused?" Carla grinned, before gesturing towards Rob across the factory floor. "Does he know?"
"About today? Nope..."
"Good," Carla pulled out a lipstick and compact mirror from her bag, flipping open the mirror with a swift movement of her wrist. "And that's how I intent it to stay, so happy smiley faces, alright?"
11:30
Carla sat clutching a tissue in the toilet cubicle, using the closed lid as a seat. Wiping the corners of both eyes carefully to avoid any tell-tale mascara smudges, she attempted to regain composure before facing the world outside. She'd been doing a decent job of acting like it didn't bother her, or at least the staff had had the respect to pretend she was, but everyone has their limits and a well-meaning text from a friend in LA had been the straw that finally broke the camel's back. She had to retreat, just for a few minutes, so she'd slipped in here on the sly, like a school kid skiving maths, hoping no one would notice.
It's pathetic, she told herself. It was a year ago, so much has changed and he's not even around anymore. The scum got what he deserved, she got her man and everything had come good. So why now was she seeing his face everywhere she looked, why had that empty, hopeless feeling that she'd worked so hard to rid herself of returned just because of a date in the calendar?
The closing of the door outside caused Carla to jolt in a way that she instantly berated herself for. Then came the voice. "Mrs Connor? Carla?" Shit. Hayley's distinctive tone echoed throughout the bathroom and Carla knew there was no hiding: Showtime. Flushing her now blackened tissue she sniffed, pulling a clump of hair back off her face as though it would make any difference.
As she exited the cubicle, attempting to retain composure, Hayley's face fell into that sympathetic expression that everyone pulls when they don't know what else to say.
"Yep?" She wouldn't give in that easily.
Hayley fidgeted in her position, clearly as uncomfortable as her boss at this unusual intimacy. "I uh, I saw you come in a while ago and wanted to see if you were ok. Well, obviously as ok as you can be, I mean…"
"I'm fine", she lied, leaning over the sink towards the stained mirror. "Urgh, when were these loos last properly cleaned?!"
Hayley starred at the floor as though trying to summon the courage to continue the conversation. She breathed out deeply before continuing, slowly. "Look um, I understand that you don't wanna talk about it and that's fine but…" She paused, looking Carla straight in the eyes now. "But well, I'd like to think that we've known each other long enough for you to be able to come to me, y'know, if you ever did want to…"
Carla smiled. She may hate sympathy, or pity, with a passion but she couldn't help but feel touched at the same time. She was reminded of reaching out and grabbing her hand after she'd stupidly decided it would be fine to go back to work, only to be greeted by an office full of Frank's stuff and a near panic attack. She didn't really do friends, but if she did, she'd like to think of Hayley as one of them.
She sighed, turning back to face the mirror. "And there was me thinking I was doing such a great job of hiding it" she tried to joke.
"Well, was bound to be difficult today."
"Yeah, but why though?" Carla found herself wondering aloud. "I mean… It's just a date, it's just a number. 365 days, so what?"
Hayley moved slowly closer to her boss, anxious not to make any sudden movements or to come across as overbearing and push her away again. "I guess… Sometimes you box things away, you know? Tell yourself it doesn't matter, that you're over it, that you're not lying awake at night going over every detail but… But then it takes something, some small reminder to bring it all flooding back".
Carla turned her body to face the other woman, knowing she'd regret this voluntary pulling down of her barriers later, but knowing just as well that right now she had no choice. She sniffed, wiping a tear from the corner from one eye. "I'll never be fully free of him will I? He'll always be there in some… some form or other".
"Hey…" Hayley instinctively brought her arms up to hug her, regretting it half way and instead merely taking hold of her hands. "You know what, you're the strongest person I've ever known bar none, and you will get through this".
Carla smiled to herself, her eyes filling with water at such a rate it was barely worth trying to wipe her tears. "I'm not strong," she almost whispered, her eyes falling to the floor. "Hayley after the rape I tried to kill myself". She spoke hurriedly, regretting the words the second they left her body yet feeling at the same time that she had to tell her. Hayley fell silent, a look of disbelief spread across her face.
"What…?"
Carla brought both hands up to her mouth, her eyes closed. "It was… it was stupid and I hated myself for it I mean… I mean I regretted it and…" She trailed off as Hayley pulled her in to a tight hug. "That's why I didn't want anyone to know, I mean I begged Peter not to tell anyone…" In any normal situation she would have pushed her friend away and headed straight for the door, but something kept her rooted her to the stop, almost clinging to her instead.
"Peter?"
"Yeah he um, he was the one who…" She edged away now, the embarrassment beginning to overtake her need for comfort. "Anyway look, no one else knows. Well, other than Maria but… And certainly not Rob so please…"
Hayley let her go slowly, her tone gentle. "I won't breathe a word I promise. I'm so sorry Carla".
"What have you got to be sorry for?"
"I should've been there or… I dunno, something".
Carla took her turn to grab Hayley's hand now. This was the other reason she'd been terrified of people knowing: The guilt they'd feel. "Hayley there was nothing you could've done. It was not your fault alright?"
She nodded, grabbing a tissue from the cubicle and trying to laugh off her own tears.
"That lot will be wanting their lunch break won't they?" Carla changed the subject, suddenly uncomfortable.
"Oh, I'm sure they can wait ten minutes…" Hayley replied, concerned as Carla headed for the door.
"You're joking aren't you? Ever seen Beth with caffeine withdrawal? Not a pretty sight!"
With a final glance in the mirror, Carla spun on her heels and pulled open the door. As Hayley reluctantly followed, she added in a low whisper, "Thank you, Hayley. Really".