Week 27: Last night of freedom

Nick whistled appreciatively when he caught sight of Carla coming out of the bedroom; she was wearing a clingy dress in a black fabric that had the merest hint of a sparkle, causing her to glimmer as she moved. The neckline was an off-the-shoulder bardot style, the dress itself hugged her curves, over her breasts and her hips, her baby bump, and her legs, ending just below her knees.

"Wow!" he gasped. "You look fabulous."

"You like?" Carla smiled self-consciously, running her hands over the fabric, especially that which stretched over her baby bump. "You don't think it's too…"

"Too…?"

"Showy? You know, of…" she made a point of motioning towards her bump with a flourish of her hands and a grimace on her face. "Everything?"

"I think it's perfect," he reassured her, pulling her in for a quick kiss. "You're perfect."

"Good answer," Carla sighed. "Although I'm really not looking forward to tonight."

"Why not? This is your night, remember."

"Truth is, I'm not used to doing these things without a few drinks inside me," Carla lamented. "I'm gonna be stone cold sober, while you, you can go crazy."

"I won't drink too much," he promised. "I'll stick to the juice. Solidarity with my bride-to-be."

"Hey, don't hold back on my account. I want you to have a good time tonight."

"So… you'll be okay with me, I dunno, getting drunk, me eyebrows shaved off, walking the streets in nothing but me pants?"

"I want you back in one piece, alright? Eyebrows included."

"I'll try my best. One thing I can guarantee you though, is no strippers."

"I don't mind."

"Really?"

"Well," Carla shrugged, trying hard to be nonchalant. "It's tradition innit?"

"I don't care if it's tradition, I'm not interested in watching scantily clad women dancing around provocatively. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Unless it's you what's doing the dancing."

"Even with me looking like a beached whale?"

"What can I say? I'm very much into the beached whale look."

"What d'ya say, lads?" David called out to the assembled men at the downtown bar. "Next stop the, ahem, gentlemen's club?"

"No." Nick's voice was the lone dissenter amongst the enthusiastic hollers from the rest of the group. "Definitely not."

"That's settled, then," David raised his hands in victory.

"Sorry, lads, but I promised Carla, no strippers."

"We know who wears the trousers in that relationship," Steve called out.

"Actually, Carla was cool with it, it was me that didn't want one. The future Mrs Tilsley is the only woman I want to see like that."

"What? Wrapped around a pole wearing nowt but her smalls?" Sean asked.

"Well…" Nick raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"You are full of surprises," Peter interjected sullenly.

"What?" Nick laughed. "You can't be surprised that I enjoy having a drop-dead gorgeous woman at home?"

"No," Peter shrugged. "That you'd want to limit yourself to just one."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nick snapped, rounding on Peter.

"Or is it the look but don't touch rule you don't like?" Peter pressed on with his verbal attack.

"I think it's my round," David said in an attempt to deescalate tensions. "What'll it be? Pints with tequila chasers?"

"And this," Gail announced, approaching Carla, her hands full of a satiny fabric, baby pink with white writing. "Is for the bride to be."

"Gail!" Carla gasped with a mixture of surprise and despair, reluctantly allowing her future mother-in-law to drape the sash over her shoulder so that it cut right across her dress. "I guess there's no mistaking me now."

"You look lovely," Gail said, a broad smile on her face. "Blooming I think is the word. My son is a very lucky man."

"Thank you, Gail," Carla plastered a smile on her face, desperately searching for an out. "Oh, look, cocktails!"

Carla took the opportunity to grab two drinks and corral Kylie into a corner of the semi-private function area of the restaurant-come-bar she'd booked for the evening's festivities.

"I hope that's–"

"Don't worry, it's non-alcoholic," Carla confirmed of the drink she was sipping, before handing Kylie the other. "That one is most definitely alcoholic."

"Sweet," Kylie grinned, happily taking the drink from Carla and gulping down a big mouthful. "Thanks."

"Now, listen," Carla said. "Before you all get too rowdy, I wanted to talk to you about summat."

"Uh oh," Kylie screwed up her face in nervous anticipation. "What have I done?"

"I don't know," Carla shrugged. "Do you have a guilty conscience or summat?"

"Ha! No, just a lifetime of 'we need to talk' conversations being about summat or other I've messed up."

"Well, you haven't. Actually, it's not so much I wanted to talk, more that I wanted to ask you a question."

"Oh?"

"I know it's last minute," Carla rambled. "Well, everything about this wedding is last minute, let's not kid ourselves."

"Just spit it out, yeah?"

"Fancy being my bridesmaid?"

"Are you serious?"

"Who else am I gonna ask?" Carla confessed. "These past few months you have become… well, pretty much my best friend. I don't think you realise how much I've come to rely on you, and I'm not just talking in the factory."

"Aww, babes, I feel the same."

"So…?" Carla prompted Kylie for an answer. "You'll do it?"

"Yes!" Kylie said, grabbing a hold of Carla's shoulders and pulling her in for a hug. "Try and stop me."

"What's up with Barlow?" David asked, sidling up to his brother at the bar. "He's a right miserable git tonight."

"Nothing," Nick said gruffly. "It's nothing for you to worry about."

"D'ya want me to have a word with him?"

"No!" Nick barked. "I want you to leave it."

"But, you can't let him get away with this, he's–"

"David, I said–"

"No, Nick, this is your night."

"He knows, alright," Nick hissed, leaning his head in close to his brother's, terrified that someone would overhear. "He knows."

"He knows?" David screwed up his face, struggling to decipher Nick's cryptic words. "What does he know?"

"Me and Leanne," Nick confessed. "He knows everything. Why do you think they split up?"

"That don't mean he can–"

"Which is why I don't want you interfering. I have to keep him on side, make sure he doesn't spill the beans to Carla."

"That is a dangerous game, mate," David shook his head. "A very dangerous game."

"What else can I do?" Nick shrugged. "I can't risk Carla finding out."

"Maybe, I dunno, if you sat Carla down and told her what happened in your own words, she might–"

"No."

"You can't hide the truth forever, you know it's gonna come out sooner or later. If you're honest with her now–"

"Shut up!" Nick snapped, grabbing hold of David's shirt and, spinning him around, shoved him up against the bar so that the smooth, polished wood dug into his little brother's back. "Mind your own business."

"Alright alright!" David struggled against his brother's grip. "Calm down."

"Stop telling me what to do!" Nick snarled. "This is my whole future we're talking about. I'm not about to lose everything now."

"Now, listen, I wasn't sure about Carla at first," Gail confessed, her champagne glass clutched in one hand, while the other gripped onto the back of the chair in front of her, the only thing keeping her upright at that moment in time. "All fur coat and no knickers. Didn't I say that to you, mam?" Gail peered around, searching for her mother's face in the crowd that was watching her give her speech. "Mam!"

"Yes, dearie, you did," Audrey confirmed through gritted teeth. "More than once."

"Our Gail's not one to hold back, is she?" Kylie whispered to Carla as nervous laughter tittered around the group. "I dread to think what she said to Audrey about me when I first rocked up. What she said to me face was bad enough."

"She's protective of her boys is all," Carla said generously.

"Hmm…" Kylie shrugged. "Maybe."

"But, over the past few months I've gotten to know her, she'll come round for her tea and we'll have a little chat, and… well, I'm not ashamed to admit it, I was wrong about her. And what's more, I've grown to love her like a daughter."

"Oh, Gail," Carla was genuinely touched by Gail's words.

"And I know that, not only will she make a good wife for my son, she will be a wonderful mother to my grandson."

"I wouldn't count me chickens just yet if I were Gail," Leanne hissed drunkenly into Maria's ear, loud enough for most of the hen's night guests to overhear. "I mean, how many husbands is it she's buried?"

"I know it's not a first marriage for either of them," Gail continued, determined to drown Leanne out. "But I know this is the one that will last."

"Who'll take me bet?" Leanne called out. "I reckon less than a year before Nick's either dead or psychotic."

"Because, unlike Nick's previous marriage," Gail aimed her verbal dagger right at Leanne's heart. "This one is based on mutual love and respect."

"Yeah, right," Leanne sneered.

"What is going on?" Carla whispered to Kylie.

"Umm…" Kylie shrugged as she watched the horrific tableaux before her. "I don't know, but I'm not having it." Kylie rose to her feet and held her glass in the air. "To Carla!" she called out.

"To Carla!" the guests cried in unison, raising their glasses and taking a drink.

"The best sister-in-law I could hope for," Kylie finished by kissing Carla fondly on the cheek. "Welcome to the madhouse, sis."

"Thank you," Carla said tearfully. "And thank you, Gail. It means a lot to be welcomed so warmly into your family."

Gail tottered over to where Carla was sitting and, wrapping her arms around her, pulled her in for a warm hug. It must be the hormones, Carla thought to herself, that were making her so emotional. She smiled at the thought of her, Carla Connor, being welcomed so ardently by a future mother-in-law. It was a wholly new sensation for her, one that she rather enjoyed. That is, until she opened her eyes and saw Leanne staring at her with what was undeniable hatred in her eyes.

David pushed his way past the throng of people trying to enter the pub, going against the tide of revellers on his quest to make things right. As he stepped into the warm summer night, he peered up and down the street, through the crowds that were milling around, until he spotted him, slouching, his back up against the wall, a freshly lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

"What d'ya think you're playing at?" he demanded, instantly in aggressor mode as he stormed up to Peter. "Hmm? You can't let him have one night?"

"What?" Peter barked, screwing up his face as he glared at this mouthy kid who was trying to act the tough man in front of him.

"What?" David mimicked Peter. "You know exactly what! Your snarky comments about me brother."

Peter merely shrugged, dismissing David out of hand. "No idea what you're talking about," he huffed.

"Look, I know you've got good reason to be mad at Nick, but can you just give him this one night to enjoy himself without having to look at your miserable mug."

"What did you say?"

"I said, whack a smile on yer face or get lost!"

"No, you said you knew why I was mad at Nick."

"Well, yeah," David said. "He's me brother."

"When did you find out?"

"Umm…"

"I'll make this easy for ya," Peter pressed on. "Was it before or after the miscarriage?"

"Listen, I–"

"You knew about your brother and my wife, that they were screwing around again, and you didn't say owt?"

"Well I wouldn't, would I? My loyalties are to him, not you."

"Thanks for that, David," Peter said, his upper lip curling into a bitter sneer. "You've made things very clear."

"I don't… what are you…?"

"Your loyalties are to Nick? That's fine, I get that. Well, mine are to Carla. And it's time she learned the truth."

Kylie edged her way through the crowded restaurant, her eyes glued to the blonde-haired figure in front of her.

"Right, you!" Kylie grabbed hold of Leanne as she pushed open the toilet door and shoved her inside, pinning her up against the wall.

"Oi!" Leanne shrieked. "Gerroff me you crazy bitch!"

"Keep going and you'll find out just how crazy I can be," Kylie snarled, her face no more than an inch away from Leanne's.

"What d'ya want?"

"I want you to stop trying to ruin Carla's night with your bitchy little comments."

"Ha!" Leanne laughed bitterly. "I haven't even started yet, sweetheart."

"Ugh."

Both women turned in surprise to stare at the open door in horror, Kylie's grip on Leanne immediately loosened as she recognised the newcomer.

"The amount of times I've come in here tonight," Carla bemoaned. "I swear this baby's doing a jig on me bladder."

"Yeah," Kylie smiled nervously. "I remember Max was the same."

"Are you two alright?" Carla asked suspiciously. "I feel like I'm back in school. You two've got that same look as me and me mates when the teacher'd bust us having a smoke in the bogs. Ooh ey, you ain't been smoking now, have you?"

"As if!" Kylie laughed off Carla's suggestion. "Just some girl talk is all. Isn't that right, Leanne?"

"Yeah," Leanne smiled, feigning innocence. "Just girl talk."

"Okay, well, I'm just gonna…" Carla pointed to one of the stalls and, with a last confused look at Kylie and Leanne, disappeared inside, reappearing within minutes to find the pair in the exact same position she'd left them in.

"Are you sure you two are alright?" Carla asked as she washed her hands. "You're both acting kinda… weird."

"Yeah, we're fine," Kylie nodded, turning to Leanne. "Aren't we?"

"Just fine."

"You're not planning anything for later are you? Cause I'm really not into–"

"Cross my heart, we've got nothing planned."

"Okay, well, don't stay in here all night."

"We won't." Kylie waited until the door had swung closed behind Carla before turning her attention once again to Leanne. "Now, where were we?"

"Ahhhh…" Leanne screwed up her face in mock concentration. "I believe you were insulting me and threatening me."

"Thanks," Kylie smiled back at her with the same derisive attitude. "So, are you gonna behave yourself?"

"Why should I?"

"Because this is Carla's night," Kylie hissed. "What has she ever done to you that you'd wanna ruin it for her?"

"Where do I start?" Leanne asked, rolling her eyes.

"I mean lately?"

"You don't understand," Leanne cried out in frustration. "I've lost everything."

"I'm sorry for what you've been through, I really am, but that's not Carla's fault."

"No, it's not," Leanne grudgingly agreed. "It's my fault. And Nick's."

"Nick?" Kylie's eyes narrowed with suspicion at the mention of her brother-in-law. "What's Nick got to do with it?"

"Come on, Kylie, you're a smart girl. You know how the world works."

"Was Nick…? Did you and Nick…?"

"Bingo!" Leanne cried.

"He must have been outta his mind."

"He wanted it. He wanted me."

"Carla can't find out," Kylie insisted. "Not ever."

"Why not?"

"Because she's carrying his baby, you stupid cow."

"And what are you gonna do to stop me?"

Peter sat hunched on the stool, his elbows propped up on the bar, his gaze fixed on the two objects in front of him. He picked up the first, his phone, and held it in his hand. One step at a time, he thought, build up your courage. He unlocked the phone and opened his contacts folder, scrolling through the A's and the B's until he came to the C's. Carla Connor.

His thumb hovered over the screen but something was holding him back. She deserves to know, he reminded himself. But she doesn't deserve to get her heart broken.

He placed his phone back down onto the bar and reached instead for the second object, encircling the lowball tumbler in his hand, swilling the double shot of whiskey that was inside it, around and around. For a moment, he was almost hypnotised by the whiskey as it sloshed around the glass. There was no ice to dilute it, to desecrate it. It was neat. Pure.

He was ready; he raised the glass towards his lips. The plan was to knock it back with confidence in one clean shot, but his body betrayed him. His hand began to shake and he had to stop, the glass held in mid-air, and try to regain his nerve.

It's easy, he told himself as he took a deep breath, in and out. You've done it before, you can do it again. His nerves and his hand now steady, he moved the glass once more towards his lips. He could already taste the fiery liquid long before it came anywhere close to his tongue, the mere memory of it was so ingrained in his consciousness that the anticipation was almost as intoxicating as the reality. But not quite. He wanted the real thing, he craved it, and he was about to have it, to feel that familiar burn as it drained down his throat. The glass was within inches of his lips when a strange hand clamped firmly over the glass and pushed it back down onto the bar.

"Don't do it," Nick implored him.

"You gonna take this from me as well as taking me wife?"

"You'll regret it in the morning."

"Did you?" Peter focused his gaze on Nick, studying him, wanting to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt. "Regret sleeping with Leanne?"

"Yes," Nick freely admitted. "I am sorry, you know. For how this has hurt you. And her."

"I hate that I'm lying to Carla to keep your dirty little secret."

"I know what it must cost you, given how you feel about me," Nick said. "But you're doing the right thing."

"She deserves to know," Peter maintained.

"Probably. And if it was just me who'd be affected, I'd say go for it, you owe me nothing. But if you do, it won't just be me who suffers, it will be Carla as well. And I know you don't believe she deserves that, to have her life torn apart, her family ripped from her."

"No, she doesn't."

"I do love her, you know."

"You better do. Because if there's one thing she does deserve, it's happiness."

"Even if I give it to her?" Nick asked.

"Even then."

"I love you," Gail slurred as she clung to Carla's arm, her hands pawing at her, her cheek lolling against Carla's shoulder. "You know that, don't you? I– love you."

"That's nice," Carla smiled awkwardly. "Why don't I call you a tax–"

"And my Nicky," she continued, tilting her head back and peering up into Carla's eyes through her own glassy ones. "He's a good boy."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"What's this about, Gail?"

"Because he loves you so so so… so much," Gail said. "And I need to know, because I am his mother and a mother needs to know these things… I need to know that you are marrying my Nicky for the right reasons, not just because you're having his baby."

"Gail, I'm marrying your son because I love him. Do I love him more because he's the father of my baby? Of course. But don't doubt that the love was there already."

Gail wrapped her arms around Carla and squeezed her tight. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

"That's, umm…"

"You're very…" Gail muttered as she nuzzled her face into Carla's shoulder, "…snuggly, mmm…"

"Come on, Gail, dearie," Audrey said, arriving just in time to rescue Carla, gently pulling her daughter away from the bride-to-be. "Let's get you home, hmm?"

"But–" Gail protested. "I was talking to…"

"Carla."

"I know her name!" Gail cried in outrage. "I was talking to Carla."

"Yes, lovie, I know. Why don't you come with me, hmm?"

'Thank you,' Carla mouthed her gratitude to Audrey as she led Gail away. "Oh, there you are," she called out as she spotted Kylie and Leanne finally make their reappearance at the party. "I thought you might've fallen in."

"I need a drink," Leanne muttered, breaking away from Kylie and making a beeline for the bar.

"Is she alright?" Carla asked Kylie.

"Yeah, she's just a mardy cow drunk is all."

"Is that a thing? Mardy cow drunk?"

"It is where that one's concerned."

"Give her a break, yeah. She's been through a lot lately."

"Haven't we all?" Kylie muttered.

"Just… play nice," Carla pleaded. "Oh, hold on." Carla pulled her phone out of the slimline black evening bag she had slung across her shoulders and glanced at the screen. "It's Nick," she reported. "I'm gonna take it outside."

"Hey, babe," she spoke into the phone as she made her way through the crowd to the front door of the restaurant.

"Carla?" Nick's voice came through faint against the backdrop of animated conversations that surrounded Carla. "Can you hear me?"

"Hold on," she said. "I'm just going outside … okay, I'm outside now. Can you hear me?"

"I can," he said. "How's your night going?"

"Besides fending off your drunken mother?"

"Oh, god, she didn't…?"

"She wasn't too bad," Carla reassured him. "What about you? You should be at the bar drinking with the boys, not calling me."

"The thing is…"

"What's happened?"

"Nothing's happened," Nick reassured her. "I just thought that you might need rescuing."

"Rescuing?" Carla asked. "Do you mean from your mother?"

"Amongst other things."

"You know what, a few minutes respite talking to you sounds like heaven."

"Oh, I think we can do a little better than that."

"What d'ya mean?"

"Eyes left."

Carla looked to her left and was shocked to see Nick striding along the footpath towards her, his phone pressed to his ear and a broad grin on his face. She wasted no time; lowering her phone, she teetered as fast as the combination of her heels and baby belly allowed towards her fiancé, launching herself into his arms, her happiness to see him was so great.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, relaxing her grip on him the smallest amount after a protracted embrace.

"I missed you."

"You left your own stag do because you missed me?"

"Yes," he affirmed, kissing her softly on the lips as his arms remained firmly wrapped around her waist. "I couldn't bear to be apart from you another moment."

"But, what about the boys?"

"I don't think they'll even notice I'm gone, not in the state they're in. The question is, are you in a hurry to get back inside to the girls?"

"Not at all," Carla shook her head, leaning into Nick's embrace, snuggling her head under his chin. "Take me home, yeah. And who knows, you might even get your beached whale stripper moment after all."