"Mum!" Ryan followed Michelle from the Bistro kitchen and into the bar area that was packed with staff working tirelessly to satisfy the New Year's Eve revellers, all clamouring to buy their next drink. "Talk to me, what's wrong?"
"Not now, Ry!" Michelle said impatiently. "Can you help me please? I need to get the champagne toast ready for the midnight countdown."
"But –"
"Please, Ry."
"Okay," Ryan held his hands up in surrender. "But this isn't over."
"Oh, it's never over," Michelle replied cryptically. "Even when you think something's dead and buried, nope, there it is again, back to cause some more trouble."
"What are you –?" Ryan wrinkled his forehead in confusion as he stared at his mum.
"Champagne, Ryan!"
And so mother and son got to work, arranging rows of champagne flutes, the clock ticking ever closer to midnight and the dawn of a new year. Michelle prayed that 2020 would bring her and her family more happiness than 2019 had. Right now, she wasn't confident, not one bit.
"You alright, love?" Peter asked as he wrapped his hands around Carla's waist and pulled her body close to his. "You don't seem like yourself."
"Actually," Carla mused on the events of the evening. "I feel more like my old self than I have in a very long time."
"Oh, yeah?" Peter smiled, a twinkle in his eye. "That's good to hear, but… you know we don't have to stick around if you don't want to. I mean, this lot, they're not exactly cheerful company tonight, are they?"
"No," Carla protested softly, as she snaked her arms around Peter's neck and kissed him softly. "I wanna stay here, just like this, with you."
"If you're sure?"
"We'll block out these misery guts and pretend we're the only two people –"
"Carla," Michelle interrupted, her hand placed gently but unshakeably on Carla's arm. "Do you mind, babe, I need a hand with the champagne."
"The cheek of ya!" Carla exclaimed with a grin. "It's not like I can even drink the stuff and you're putting me to work with it!"
"For god's sake, Carla!" Michelle cried. "I ask you for one favour!"
"Alright, alright," Carla mollified her, exchanging an amused look with Peter. "Calm down, I was joking."
"Sorry, I just…" Michelle shook her head as the tears came unbidden to her eyes. "I don't know how much more I can take, Car."
"Okay," Carla disentangled herself from Peter's embrace to focus on Michelle in her distress. "We'll sort it out, yeah? We'll get the champagne done and then we'll sit down and talk it through. Okay?" She gave Michelle's shoulder a friendly squeeze. "It'll be okay."
"Okay," Michelle nodded gratefully. "Thanks Car."
'Sorry,' Carla mouthed her apology to Peter who simply shrugged in resignation as she led Michelle away by the hand.
Leanne paused to let the pair pass before sidling up to Nick who stood glowering, his elbow resting on the bar.
"Hey," she greeted him casually.
"Come to have another go, have you?"
"No," she shook her head. "I came to say… I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" Nick stared at her incredulously.
"I'm still mad at you," she cautioned him. "So don't think you're off the hook."
"Noted."
"But I was out of line earlier," she confessed. "I didn't need to be so harsh with you."
"So… You forgive me?"
"I'm working on it," Leanne said. "Listen, Nick, we've been through too much to simply throw what we've got away at the first sign of trouble."
"Oh, Lea, I'm so glad you –"
"So I've made a decision," Leanne cut off Nick's sentiment. "I've decided that, no matter what happens… I'm sticking with you."
"Thank you," Nick said as he breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, Lea, you have no idea how much this means to me."
"Prove it, Nick," Leanne demanded coolly. "Whatever comes next, you need to prove it to me."
"I will," Nick nodded with absolute sincerity. "And I can guarantee – one hundred per cent – that Maria won't be causing us any more problems."
"No," Leanne said quietly, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "She won't."
"Alright, everybody!" a voice could be heard over the din of the crowd. "Are we all ready for the countdown…?"
"Yes!" the crowd yelled in unison.
"Okay, then… And…"
"TEN!"
Leanne stepped forward and kissed Nick, her hands clasped either side of his face, her lips pressing against his, just for a moment, before she pulled away and smiled up at him, a cold, triumphant smile.
"NINE!"
Michelle placed the tray packed with champagne glasses that she was carrying down onto the nearest table and gripped the back of a chair, desperate to steady her hands that were shaking involuntarily, almost uncontrollably. She breathed in… and out… and in…
"EIGHT!"
Gary strode along the cobbles, his phone pressed to his ear, the dark night softly illuminated by the waxing crescent moon that was visible in the cloudless inky black sky above. "Maria," he spoke intently to her messaging service. "I'm coming to see you at the Bistro, so make your excuses, and meet me outside. We need to sort this out once and for all."
"SEVEN!"
Ali frowned down at his phone as he stood by the bar, a spot he'd chosen especially so that he could easily see people entering and exiting the Bistro. He quickly composed a message and hit send. Where are you?
"SIX!"
Alya sat perched on Ryan's knee as she excitedly counted down to her first New Year's kiss with Ryan. But Ryan's attention was focused on the opposite side of the dining room where his mum stood, her hands gripped tightly onto the back of a chair, her face white as a sheet. She picked up a glass of champagne from her discarded tray and, tilting her head back, drained the contents in one long sip.
"FIVE!"
Nick and Leanne stood, their arms wrapped around each other, Leanne's head tucked in underneath Nick's chin, when suddenly Nick's eyes screwed up with a pain that seared through his brain like lightning. He raised his hand and rubbed his temples, desperate for any kind of relief.
"FOUR!"
Leanne's cheek rested against Nick's chest, yet she was anything but relaxed; her jaw was clenched tight and her eyes were fixed in a thousand-yard stare.
"THREE!"
"Hey, you!" Carla said as she forced a champagne flute into Ali's hands. "Get that down your neck and a smile on your face."
"TWO!"
"Oh no no no! No!" Gary ran across the cobbles towards the figure that was crumpled, lifeless, on the ground.
"ONE!"
Peter grabbed Carla by the waist as she handed out the last of her champagne and pulled her towards him. "You're all mine now," he whispered, his voice low and gravelly.
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
In the cacophony of sounds that followed; the cheers, the revellers blowing into brightly decorated party horns, and the non-stop pop! pop! pop! of the party poppers, Peter and Carla kissed with a passion as if they were the only two people in the room.
Michelle stood at a distance watching the couple, a sad smile on her face, when she felt the arms of her son, her darling Ryan, wrap around her shoulders and his lips on her cheek, leaving a puzzled Alya alone on the other side of the dining room.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?
"Everyone outside for the fireworks!"
"Come on," Nick whispered to Leanne as he grabbed hold of her hand. "This'll be worth watching."
"I do love a good show," Leanne smiled wickedly at him as she followed him out the door.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne.
"Break it up you lovebirds," Ryan slapped Peter on the back as he and Michelle passed the canoodling pair on their way to the door. "You're gonna miss the show!"
Reluctantly, the couple tore themselves apart and joined the throng of revellers heading towards the exit.
For auld lang syne, my jo, For auld lang syne.
"Oh, wow! Did you see that one?"
All eyes were fixed on the sky above Weatherfield as the dark vastness was illuminated by fireworks shooting up high above them and exploding in a cascade of colourful shimmering lights.
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne.
For auld… lang…
A scream pierced through the merriment of the crowd and for a time confusion reigned. No one bothered watching what was left of the fireworks display; all eyes darted here and there, desperately searching for the source of the terror.
"He's killed her." Michelle was the first to speak as she pointed to where Gary Windass was crouched in the dim light over the clearly deceased body of Maria Connor. "Did you see that? He's killed her!"
"Oh my god!" Ryan took a step back in shock.
Carla merely turned away and buried her face in Peter's shoulder; she didn't want to see any more. Peter, his arm wrapped protectively around her slight frame, stared at the scene with a steely gaze.
Nick and Leanne turned to face each other. Without a word, Nick held his hand out for Leanne; she took it, interlinking her fingers with his and held on for dear life. They turned to face the spectacle in front of them as a united force.
"It wasn't me," Gary protested, rising to his feet, his hands instinctively held in the air, a sign of surrender, or innocence, no one knew. "I found her like this. I swear!"
"Somebody call the police," Ali commanded as he stepped out from the crowd to confront the man who had been a thorn in his side for months now. "Tell them we've caught a murderer."
End of Part One
Join us in 2020 as DI Fielding and DS Hill hunt down our murderer with some very unexpected results
Author: thelocalknickermerchant