Tw: This chapter still hints at depression, suicide, and negative thoughts. But on the whole, a lot lighter than the previous two.
"Uh, there's someone here…" Johnny mumbled, reluctantly stepping aside.
Carla lifted her head from the magazine article she was reading, one hand wrapped around the warmth of her mug. She sat back and raised her brow when he appeared at the door. He shuffled forward sheepishly. His face was pale, eyes squinted like he was in pain with heavy shadows beneath them. Peter shot her an apologetic grimace.
"Yeah, you'd better look sorry." Carla glared at him, but pointed to the seat opposite. Relieved that she wasn't shouting, more for the sake of his hangover than anything else, he watched her leave and fill a second mug with dark liquid from the cafetiere on the kitchen counter. She placed it down in front of him a little too harshly and he winced at the slam of porcelain against the wooden table. Carla's lips twitched.
"Well?"
"I'm sorry."
"You know, I don't think that word means anything coming from you." Carla had lost count of how many times he'd said it to her over the years. "Sorry I got drunk again, sorry I slept with the babysitter on our wedding day, sorry I had an affair, sorry I sold the factory to your ex-husband behind your back—"
She broke off. He stared hard at his mug. At least he wasn't trying to make excuses up. She had to give him that. Carla hadn't told Roy exactly why she'd rocked up at his flat the previous evening, just that there'd been a scuffle in the pub, and she'd wanted to get away from it all. So, he'd let her stay and by the time she'd come back the following morning, Michelle had left for work. She hadn't spoken to her properly either since their falling out and she wasn't sure she wanted to. Her hopes weren't high for the outcome of that conversation.
"Sorry I shouted about your private, personal business to the entire pub." She continued. That caused him to look up.
"I was out of order."
"Yeah, you were."
"I was—"
"Smashed. I know." Carla finished for him, but her gaze softened slightly. "What set you off?"
He looked reluctant to answer, but he supposed she deserved to know. "It's been building up a while." He admitted, taking it upon himself to shuffle closer. "You know, after you went missing and seeing you so sick in hospital… Sorry, I'm not saying it was you. It wasn't." He suddenly panicked, but Carla was just nodding. She knew how much of a strain they'd all been under. "I had a slip up, after I overheard Michelle telling Kate about…Both of you."
"A slip up?"
"Michelle caught me actually." He remembered, causing Carla's eyes to snap to his.
"What?"
"Yeah, she… Brought me back here, gave me coffee and a pep talk." He laughed as he said it, realising how absurd it sounded. "I sobered up and then called my sponsor."
"She kept that quiet as well." Carla muttered, draining the last of her coffee. Strictly speaking she was supposed to avoid caffeine, but it was better than a generous glass of merlot, which she currently found herself craving despite the topic of conversation. "When?"
"The day you came home, the first time you were released."
"Peter, you brought me home!"
"I was sober." He held his hands up. "I was sober by then. But I'd had a drink."
"That's why we got a taxi?"
He nodded.
"And Michelle didn't tell anyone? At all?"
Peter shook his head, looking guiltier by the second.
"Yet you blurted out her business for the whole street to hear?"
"It wasn't the whole street—" He started to defend, but Carla scoffed and cut across him.
"It'll be around the whole street now though, won't it?"
"I really am sorry." He reached out and took both of her hands in his. "I know it was wrong, I was just jealous."
Carla pressed her lips together. She didn't respond, but she had an uncomfortable squirming in her stomach, like she suddenly knew exactly where the conversation was heading.
"Jealous of what?" She asked, just so they were clear.
"You and her." He stated obviously, scanning her features, but she wasn't giving anything away. "I mean… Are you? You know…?"
"What, gay? No." Carla shook her head, but Peter let out a gentle laugh.
"No, not gay. I know you're not gay, you'd be the world's best actress if you were." He tried to joke, but Carla looked unimpressed at his attempt. "Are you and Michelle together?"
"You can't just ask questions like that. It's not any of your business."
They were silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Peter's thumb brushed over the back of her hand absentmindedly. She wasn't sure if she even enjoyed the contact.
"We're not together." Carla spoke quietly, her eyes focused hard on the floor. There was a curl of toast crust from someone's breakfast that had been dropped beneath the table. There was a sudden weight in her chest, one that sank down into her stomach and settled there uncomfortably. "It was just… A one off."
Peter contemplated the information.
"I'm going to rehab… For a couple of weeks."
"That's good, it's what you need. You've got a son and a life; you've got things to get better for." She smiled, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.
"Yeah… Yeah, I have." He whispered, suddenly leaning in. Carla didn't have time to react, his hand was on her cheek and then his lips connected with hers. It was familiar, it could have been nice, but her heart wasn't racing, her mind wasn't fizzing, she didn't want to pull him closer even though he'd slid his hand to the back of her head. In fact, she wanted the opposite. She reached out and placed her hands on his shoulders.
"Daniel's knocked red wine all down my—" Michelle broke off the same time Carla and Peter flew apart. She was stood in the doorway, wearing a cream top that was stained with a vivid red splash across the front. She looked from one to the other, mouth still slightly open, the rest of her words caught in her throat, blocked by the huge lump that had wedged itself there.
"'Chelle…" Carla stood up, ready to explain, but the younger woman shook her head.
"I— I need to go." She whispered, turning around, and heading straight back through the bar.
"I thought you were changing your top?" Jenny frowned, causing Johnny to turn from where he was rubbing a towel over the pumps for no apparent reason. Michelle couldn't answer, she could feel her chest constricting and a flood of emotion building up. If she opened her mouth, she'd either break down crying or scream.
"Michelle!" Carla flew out after her, but she was already making her way around the bar.
"Oh, what now?" Johnny grimaced, as Peter came shuffling out behind her.
"Michelle, wait—"
"Save it, Carla, I don't want to hear!" She snapped. "I'm so sick of this, I'm sick you flippin' Barlow's—Oh for god's sake!" She groaned as the door opened and Tracy came through. "You're like a flamin' swarm."
"Ey, don't you start on me." Tracy jumped in instantly, always geared for a bit of drama to push her day along. "Not when you're jumping into bed with your cousin—"
"Third cousin." Michelle emphasised, holding up three fingers. "Barely."
"I don't know, it's a bit dodgy." Tracy reviewed, as though she was merely commenting on the weather outside.
"Dodgy?" Michelle laughed. Her eyes flashed dangerously. "You wanna talk about dodgy? You tried to sell your own kid!"
"You came out of hospital with the wrong one!" She fired back.
"Do you wanna go?" Michelle screamed at her, marching towards her until she was right up in her face. "Because I will put you through that window!" Her arm flew out; she pointed to the one near the closest booth.
"That's enough!" Carla shouted; neither of them had realised she'd come around the bar. She caught hold of Michelle's wrist and dragged her back. "What are you playing at? Flying off the handle at everything? You've been spending too much time with Robert."
Michelle looked like she'd been slapped for a moment.
"What?" She whispered, looking horrified. "I'm nothing like…"
Carla's grip had slackened on her wrist and she pulled away from her, heading towards the door.
"Michelle, wait!"
"Carla, leave her. When she's in a mood—"
"Shut up, Peter." She snapped, rounding on him. "This is your fault. Why did you have to kiss me?"
"Ey?" Jenny piped up. She had her hand in a packet of nuts and was throwing them into her mouth, chewing rapidly as she'd watched the scene unfold. "I thought you were after Michelle?"
"'After Michelle'?" Carla repeated, shooting Jenny a distasteful glare at her phrasing.
"No, not you, him." She nodded to Peter and Tracy let out a shout of laughter.
"What?" Carla looked at Jenny as though she was the one seeing things. "Oh god, is this a hallucination again?" She groaned, only half joking.
"Well, only because Johnny said—"
"Yeah, but that's because they were having hissed conversation's and you said they had a secret meeting in the back room." He shot Jenny a look, clearly referring to the time Michelle had helped Peter get sober. "And that was before I found out about Michelle and Carla, anyway."
"This is proper funny." Tracy smirked, leaning over to steal a nut from the second packet Jenny had opened. "I'm a bit lost though—"
"I don't fancy Michelle." Peter put out, holding his hands up. "I mean, she's attractive and all but—"
"Peter, shut up." Carla snapped at him again, before he could dig himself a bigger hole.
"But he's been there, done that." Tracy shrugged, chewing thoughtfully. "And you've been there and done that." She nodded from Carla to Peter. She let out a cackle and pointed behind her to the door Michelle had left through. "And she's been there and done—"
"Alright. That's enough." Peter stopped her, but she was still chuckling.
"This is hilarious, I'm so glad I came in. Chuck us a packet of those nuts, Jenny."
The door opened again, and Carla looked up hopefully. Kate had come through, looking concerned.
"Michelle's crying her eyes out in the street."
Carla let out a groan, dropping her head into her hands.
"It's okay, Ryan's with her. I just…Came to see if you needed to talk about anything?" She flicked her eyes pointedly towards Peter.
"Let me just see if she's alright." Carla moved past her and made her way out on the street. She could see the younger woman a little further down; Ryan had a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she was wiping beneath her eyes. When she caught sight of Carla, with Peter slipping out behind her she let out a frustrated groan and turned her back to them. Carla knew she didn't want them to see her in a state.
"Will you just stay here." She spoke firmly to Peter, her hand on his shoulder to stop him walking any further forward. He huffed about it but nodded, fishing in his pocket for cigarettes. Carla cautiously approached Ryan and Michelle.
"'Chelle, please look at me." She whispered. "I didn't mean to say that about you."
Michelle wiped beneath her eyes again and cleared her throat before turning around. She had mascara smeared beneath her eyes and all Carla wanted to do was wrap her up the way Michelle had every time she'd broken down.
"Carla, I don't want to talk to you right now." She sniffed, her voice wobbling.
"But if you'd just let me explain—"
"Look, you don't have to. Okay? Your life is your own and I just… I just want you happy." She bit down hard on her lip and her eyes filled again. She turned back to Ryan and buried her face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her sympathetically and shot Carla an apologetic smile.
"Maybe she'll call later." He murmured, though from what Michelle had just relayed to him, it wasn't likely. "Come on, mum, we'll go back to mine and Ali's."
Carla watched them leave, her eyes laced with sadness. She swallowed hard to keep back the emotion herself. She turned back towards the pub and watched Peter throw his tab end onto the ground where he stamped it out.
"Don't litter." She tutted, though she reached out for his sleeve when he looked as though he was going to pick it up.
"Look, Peter, I'm really grateful for everything you've done, you know?" She smiled earnestly. She even took his hand. "You got me through a difficult time and I'm never going to be able to thank you enough for saving mine and Michelle's necks up there on that fire escape." She shuddered. Carla had been plagued almost daily thinking about what might have happened if they'd both gone over the edge. She hated that, however indirectly, she'd put Michelle in danger. "But we're not going to happen. You need to accept that."
Disappointment clouded his features. She knew he was gutted, and she could feel little snakes of guilt starting to writhe in her stomach. She hated that, too; she'd felt enough guilt to last a lifetime. But she knew she couldn't force something that so clearly wasn't there anymore.
"I care about you." She offered, consolingly, a small smile gracing her lips. "I always will. I'll always want you to be safe and sober."
"But you don't have feelings for me anymore, do you?"
"No." Carla shook her head, squeezing his hand before slowly letting go.
"It's Michelle, isn't it?"
Carla knew he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. She gave him a saddened smile, before nodding.
"I think so…"
He let out a slow breath and nodded.
"Okay." He straightened up from where he'd been leant back against the wall. "I should go and sort my things, anyway. I've got some stuff to pack."
"Alright." Carla stepped aside so he could get around her. "Peter… Good luck. You can do it."
She watched him disappear into number one and then headed back into the Rovers. Tracy was still there, though she'd been joined by Beth and they were chatting about something else now. Something about a new restaurant that had opened at the Quays.
"But the thing is, what is Michelin star really? Just an excuse to whack another zero on the end of the price." Beth shrugged, taking a swig from the half she'd bought.
"Yeah but this one apparently has two Michelin stars." Tracy pointed out. "Celebrities have been in and everything."
"What, some footballer from weatherfield county?" Beth laughed.
"No. Proper footballers. City players. Fit ones."
Carla flipped the latch on the bar, shooting a small smile at Johnny, who just nodded for her to go through to the back. She found Kate waiting for her there, two mugs already at the table.
"Hey." Carla greeted, going over to wrap her up in a hug. "Sorry about all that. How're you doing?"
"Today's a better day." Kate shrugged, smiling at her. "Or was. What's been going off?"
Carla wrapped her hands around the mug, taking a comforting sip of tea. Kate must have made it because it wasn't too milky.
"I barely know myself." Carla murmured, slumping back in the chair. She felt drained. She might have sorted things out with Peter, but Michelle was holed up at her sons' place in tears.
"Michelle said she walked in on you and Peter kissing."
Carla let out a pained hum, dropping her head into her hand. "He kissed me and I was literally about to pull away."
"Were you?"
"Yes." Carla insisted. "I've just told him I don't have feelings for him."
Kate didn't speak for a moment. They both nursed their mugs, contemplating the last few days. Carla felt like her brain had been on a rapid spin cycle and now it was calming down there was a big, jumbled mass to sort through.
"I can't believe he told the entire pub…"
"Michelle absolutely freaked out." Carla sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. "I don't know what it is that she wants."
"I could hazard a guess…" Kate murmured, but Carla just shook her head, sadly.
"She isn't interested."
"I don't think that's true."
"Kate—" Carla hesitated, unsure for a moment whether she wanted to release the information. But this was Kate, this was her sister, her gay sister and there wasn't anyone else who would be better to help her make sense of things. "I tried to kiss her a couple of days ago and she ran away again."
"I think she's just scared, and confused… I'm actually surprised you're not."
"I am." Carla laughed, before letting out a tired sigh. "But you know what I'm like. I see something—Someone—I want and I just…Well I grab it. Them. While I can."
She chanced a glace at Kate, and she offered Carla a pleased little smile from over the rim of her mug.
"So you do want her, then?"
Carla moved her gaze back down to her mug. The beige liquid sloshed around slightly, and she realised that her grip had tightened around the handle.
"Yes, I flamin' well do." She muttered, letting out a gentle laugh. "Every stubborn, annoying, temperamental bit of her."
Kate giggled at that. She reached out and settled her hand over Carla's arm.
"And I know what people will think." Carla continued, shaking her head. "Michelle's right, in a sense. People will say I'm not in my right mind, and they'd have said that even before all this." She half scoffed, though didn't stop to dwell too much on the opinion of the likes of Nick, or Tracy, or whoever else wanted to put their two pennies worth in. "And yeah, I have been all over the place, I didn't know what was here and real for a second but… Not about this. I knew before…" She trailed off slightly, and Kate gave her a moment to gather her thoughts. "I know how I feel. I know. I'm absolutely certain about it."
"Hey, I know that." Kate assured her, patting her arm. "I think… Maybe Peter might have put the idea into her head when we were at the hospital." She admitted, biting her lip.
Carla turned to her.
"Why, what's he done now?"
"Well, they were arguing weren't they? You know what they're like, they just can't get on." Kate said, while Carla murmured in agreement. "She was worrying that she hadn't spotted the signs early enough, that your breakdown might have been the only reason you slept with her—"
"She's ridiculous. She knew how much I wanted that night." Carla interrupted, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. She glanced apologetically at Kate; there was a slight blush to her cheeks.
"Anyway," She continued, and Carla thought she'd spotted a hint of a smirk on her lips. "Peter sort of agreed with that. He had a go at her, told her that she should have noticed something was wrong when you decided to er—Well, as he said, jump into bed with her."
Carla cupped her hands over her nose, letting out a little whimper of frustration.
"I told them both off. I told them how insulting it sounded. Just because you've never slept with another woman before, the first time you do it must mean you're mentally not well?" She frowned, clearly the words had struck a chord with her. "I mean…when Rana—" She broke off, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. Carla's heart sank.
"Oh, god, Kate… Come here." She pushed her seat closer and wrapped her arms around her sister, pulling her into her chest. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, we don't have to keep talking…"
"I'm okay…" Kate murmured thickly, though she was clutching on to Carla. "If she was here, she could have spoken to Michelle, couldn't she?" She sniffed, her breath hitching. "I wish she was."
"I know, I know, darlin'…" Carla soothed, stroking over her back. She held her a while longer, waiting until her cries had subsided and she was able to compose herself. Kate wiped beneath her eyes, removing traces of mascara and taking a shuddering breath.
"Carla, don't miss out on something so special…"
She swallowed and nodded, reaching out for her hand. Kate clasped it tightly.
"Just… Go carefully with her. Go slowly and remind her you're figuring it out together. She'll come around; I know she will."
"I will. I'll sort things with her."
Carla let out a long breath and leant back slightly in her chair, staring up at the ceiling.
"You were right from the start, Kate." She mumbled, running her other hand through her hair as she squeezed Kate's. "I've done it haven't I? Fallen hook, line and sinker." She sighed, her eyes closing as she let out a nervous hum. "Michelle Connor. My best friend. Who'd have flippin' thought it, eh?"
|X|X|X|
"Hey Johnny, you on the late one?"
Carla heard Michelle greet her dad later that evening. She was in the back room, waiting for her to finish her shift at the Bistro. She wasn't sure if she'd come back at all, but was relieved she had. Carla was currently bundled up on the sofa in a cosy dressing gown and had been flicking idly through the television channels, though the snippets of conversation she'd been catching from the bar were far more entertaining. She'd already heard Sally try and persuade Tim to take her to the new restaurant on the Quays, only for what sounded like Tim to choke on his pint when he discovered the price of their lobster tails.
"Hi, 'Chelle." Carla smiled over at her when she walked past the door, having been making her way towards the coat hooks.
"Hi… Just let me—" She gestured to her coat and bag, and Carla nodded, though she got up to hover in the doorway, watching as the younger woman hung up her coat. She turned back around and Carla's eyes dropped to the top she was wearing.
"Um…" She bit down hard on her lip, but laughter burst through them.
"Oh, don't." Michelle groaned, though she was laughing, too. "It was the only one Ryan had clean! That place of theirs is a proper mess. Robert threw a right fit when I came back to work in it."
The white top that Daniel had accidentally spoiled with the Bistro's expensive shiraz had been replaced with Ryan's ridiculous Ibiza slogan top. She'd twisted it up and the side and knotted the material, so it outlined her frame and didn't look too out of place with the black skirt she was wearing.
"Do you know what? I reckon you've pulled it off." She nodded, though her eyes were still shining in amusement. "How was your shift?"
Michelle's nose scrunched, and Carla had the oddest urge to reach out and tap it; she looked cute. Luckily, she just about managed to suppress it.
"Kept my head down and followed orders." She just shrugged. "I just want my pyjamas on and a brew."
Carla nodded towards the stairs. "Well, go and get changed and I'll make it."
She watched her disappear upstairs and then made her way through to the kitchen. Carla thought she might have developed a taste for tea, although maybe that was because she wasn't supposed to have coffee. Maybe it was just the soothing warmth of a mug in her hands. That's what she'd do when she was younger, and the heating had cut out. Twenty-five pence it used to cost, for a mug of it at her local café. She could sit in the warm and fill herself up with as many as she could afford. Usually Michelle would sit with her, chatting about homework or weekend plans or what she was up to in the school holidays.
"That's better," Michelle sighed happily as she walked back into the room and sank onto the sofa. She'd cleaned her face of make-up, run a brush through her hair and she was also sporting a fluffy dressing gown, though hers was a silvery grey. It made her seem young again, and after Carla's mind had led her on that little trip down memory lane, she couldn't help but smile.
"Here," Carla offered one of the mugs to her.
"Thank you…" She wrapped her hands around it and crossed her legs, with Carla mirroring her position.
"There's not much on." She nodded towards the tv and indicated to the remote control on the arm on Michelle's side. "But I want to know how things went at the Bistro. You didn't look happy. How's Robert been?"
"Well… I don't think he's going to be making you soup again anytime soon." She sighed. "Mind you, he only did it the first time because he felt guilty."
"About what?"
Michelle suddenly looked shifty. "Uh…Well, I mean he knew you were ill."
"Michelle." Carla leant forward and placed her mug on the floor. "You've been keeping things from me." She stated, but she didn't sound mad. In fact, she reached out and gave her cheek a gentle prod. "Why didn't you tell me you and Peter had argued in the hospital? What he'd said, ey? I could have told you not to listen."
Michelle didn't respond. She just took a long drink from her mug.
"Why did Robert feel guilty?"
"He just…He had a go at me." She mumbled.
"What for?" Carla pressed, allowing her hand to rest on Michelle's pyjama clad knee. "Look, I'll ask him. Or Ryan."
Michelle whipped her head around. "Don't. I just messed up some orders, alright? My head was all over, I was tired and I kept doing stuff wrong." She winced. She still was. Although only once, this time and it was a drinks order, so it had been easy enough to rectify. "Then I snapped at a customer. I'd cost him money and he was mad. I would have been, too." Michelle shrugged. "But he… He grabbed my shoulder and shouted at me and I was already worried about you so I just… had a bit of a meltdown. It was nothing."
"He grabbed you?"
"I just said it's nothing." Michelle repeated.
"Show me."
"What?"
"Show me where he grabbed you!"
Michelle rolled her eyes and pulled her dressing gown apart, rolling her shoulder out. "See. Nothing there."
Carla let out a relieved sigh, though anger still flashed in her eyes. She stroked over her shoulder lightly, before gently pulling up her dressing gown once more.
"I don't like him, 'Chelle, I really don't like him. He sets me on edge."
"He's just got a temper. It's chef thing, isn't it?" Michelle shrugged, leaning down to place her mug by the floor. "Hey, I like this film." She gestured towards the tv in an attempt to steer the conversation, but Carla wasn't having any of it.
"No, it's a bloody bullying thing." She shook her head and reached out to her, gently tucking her fingertips beneath the younger woman's chin. "If he touches you again, I'll have his other one off."
Michelle let out a quiet hum of laughter and Carla couldn't help but smile, despite the anger she'd felt previous.
"Promise me, you'll start telling me things?" She looked at her sternly, but her voice was soft. "Because you're important, too. I know you've been under strain. You were up on that fire escape with me and I know it must play on your mind because it does mine."
Michelle's eyes filled, but she swallowed hard and nodded. Carla moved forward and hugged her, holding her firmly against her chest. She dared to drop a quick kiss on top of her head, but soon let her go. Slowly, Kate had said.
"I'm glad you were here when I got home." Michelle mumbled, just before Carla had pulled away. They both sat back against their own cushions.
"Where else would I have been?"
"I thought… Maybe you'd have gone to Peter's."
Carla shook her head. "He's gone to rehab."
"Probably for the best…" Michelle commented, her eyes fixated on the screen.
"Mm… What's this film about, then?" Carla nudged her gently.
"That one where she forgets everything everyday and the guy has to come up with different ways to make her fall in love."
Carla let out a scoff, though she settled herself into a more comfortable position. "As if you can fall in love in a day. As if any bloke on the planet would go to that much effort."
Michelle just hummed in response. Carla mimed zipping her lips to show she wasn't going to sit and chat all the way through it. She managed to let the film play for around five full minutes before she opened her mouth again.
"He kissed me. Not the other way around."
"It's not anything to do with me." Michelle's eyes were still on the television.
"And then I told him I didn't have feelings for him."
That made her look away. Her gaze snapped to Carla's. "Oh. And…Don't you?"
Carla shook her head, her face scrunching slightly.
"Not anymore. Not for him."
"Right…Good…" Michelle bit her lip, her head turning back towards the screen.
Carla pressed her own together, fighting back a smile. Her eyes dropped to where Michelle's arm rested beside her own. She glanced sideways without moving her head and then slowly inched her hand towards the younger woman's. Carla stretched out her little finger and allowed it to lightly brush over hers. Michelle didn't object, so she chanced another sideways look and found that she was still fixated on the film. Or at least it seemed that way. Carla was sure she could see a hint of colour in her cheeks, her lips twitching. A tiny smile pulled at the corners of her mouth and she repeated the action of stroking her finger over Michelle's, until the younger woman's palm tilted slightly, and Carla was able to weave their fingers together. She squeezed gently and when Michelle returned the gesture she leant in until her head rested against her shoulder.
Neither of them noticed the flash of red hair disappearing by the door. Jenny walked back out to the bar and gave Johnny a thumbs up.
"They're not arguing."
"I know that, we'd be able to hear them ten doors down if they were." He laughed, shaking his head at her. "You just wanted to nosey."
"They're watching a film." She informed him.
"Good. I'm glad they're getting on."
"And holding hands."
Johnny paused with his hand around the beer pump, the glass rapidly filling.
"Well…They do that all the time." He noticed ale rising to the rim just in time and released the handle.
"I think it's more."
"You thought Michelle and Peter were trying to get together this afternoon." Johnny pointed out.
"Only because I didn't have the full facts." She defended, chucking a tea towel at him.
"We still don't know the full facts." He shrugged. "Either… They had a one-night stand that affected their friendship and they've sorted it or…" He trailed off, his face screwing up in thought.
"Or?" Jenny prompted.
"Or I hope to hell this doesn't blow up in their faces."
|X|X|X|
Carla stirred her drink around, watching the younger woman as she worked; she seemed okay. She greeted customers with the same professional enthusiasm she always had, and Carla saw her pour drinks, serve bottles and shake cocktails like she'd been doing it all her life. Which, she supposed she had. She let her chin rest against the heel of her hand as she watched her. To look at, it definitely didn't seem as though she'd ever been struggling. Carla's eyes dropped to take in the dark jeans she was wearing like a second skin, the V-neck blouse she'd tucked into them with sheer sleeves so she could just make out the tattoo on her upper arm…
"I don't believe in sexism," Ryan's voice was suddenly in her ear, making her jump. "So, I'm going to have to tell you off for perving on my mum like that."
Carla spluttered.
"You cheeky beggar! I wasn't." She denied. "I was just… thinking."
"About what—Actually, no, no. I don't wanna know." He decided, his face creasing.
"I was not eyeing her up." Carla insisted, but Ryan just raised a sceptical brow.
"Hmm. You've, uh, you've got something just there." He raised his finger and pointed to the corner of his own mouth. "Bit of drool, I think."
"I'll belt you in a minute, lad!"
"She'd love you for that, beating up her kid." He smirked, though had to duck when Carla took a threatening swipe at his head.
Michelle clocked their exchange and shook her head. The stern look across her face was full of pretence. "Ryan, stop winding folk up."
"How did you know it was me? It could have been her." He shot back, childishly, giving Carla a gentle nudge.
"Table twelve needs clearing." Michelle indicated. Ryan huffed and saluted her, before skulking over.
Carla leant forward slightly as Michelle walked over to her. She nodded at her empty glass.
"Do you want another?"
Carla shook her head. "I'm alright, thanks."
"So, did you just come to watch me work, or…?"
The older brunette shrugged. She'd come straight from her second therapy session to let Michelle know it had gone okay but she wasn't sure why she'd ended up staying. Other than the fact she enjoyed Michelle's company. She used to like sitting at the bar in the Rovers chatting to her while she worked. But now there was just Jenny and she'd already spent two hours washing and drying glasses before she'd gone over to the medical centre, while listening to her drone on about Johnny leaving his underwear on the bedroom floor instead of putting them in the laundry basket and her worry about menopause. Definitely two things she really did not want to be talking about, unless she wanted to extend the length of her appointments.
"What time do you finish?" Carla asked.
Before Michelle could answer, the kitchen doors opened and Robert came through, carrying two plates. Seeing that Ryan was still clearing tables and the other two staff members were tapping in orders on the company tablets, he clicked his fingers.
"Michelle."
Carla scoffed, her brows flying towards her hairline.
"Er, do you want to try that again?" She asked him. Robert looked at her blankly. "Have a go at addressing her like a person and not a dog."
"Carla, it's fine." Michelle muttered, not wanting to cause a scene or have her work herself up. She took the plates from Robert.
"Don't take your moods out on her." Carla warned him.
"Don't you tell me how to run my business." Is all he said, before returning to the kitchen.
"Yeah, sod off." Carla muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. Ryan joined her a moment later, dumping dishes on the bar.
"He's a piece of work." She grimaced. Ryan just shrugged. He knew that, but he also knew Robert paid his wages and was keen on not getting in the middle of the warring trio. Or in the middle of anyone who happened to tick either one of the women off, because he'd be sure to be trampled under that ridiculous hero complex they both seemed to carry for one another.
"I finish at six." Michelle was back, checking the orders that were flashing up on the screen behind the bar. She crouched down and started to pull bottles of beer from the fridge. Carla watched her. She was wearing a thin silver chain that had dropped forward slightly. She couldn't see what was on the end of it because it disappeared between—
Carla coughed slightly and quickly averted her gaze, painfully aware that Ryan was watching her. She plucked her phone from her pocket in an attempt to avoid his gaze, pretending to be interested in what was on her FriendConnect feed. According to Beth's status, she and kirk were planning to have a night in front of the telly with a chippy tea and a couple of cans. Carla might have scoffed, but there was actually something nice about the simple, domesticated mundane. It never seemed to last that long with her. At least they were happy, together. They were probably made for one another really.
"is he alright to work with?" Carla asked, when Michelle had placed six bottles on the tray and slid them over for one of the waitresses to take.
"Who, Robert? Yeah, it's fine. Why?"
Carla raised her brow.
"Oh, that? Just ignore him. I do." Michelle rolled her eyes. "He's doing it on purpose, he's just showing off. Trying to act all cocky and macho and commanding to try and make me fancy—"
"Do you want to go for dinner with me, tonight?" Carla suddenly asked, cutting across her.
"What?"
"Dinner…." Carla gestured obviously between the two of them. "With me? Tonight?"
"Um… Yeah. Yeah, we can do." Michelle nodded. "Where were you thinking? Speed Daal?"
Carla scrunched her nose and shook her head.
"No. Somewhere else." A sly grin formed across her lips. "Just be ready for eight and I'll meet you in the Rovers."
"Carla—" Michelle started, but the other brunette had already slung her coat over her shoulders and dropped down from the stool. She plucked her bag from the bar and hurled it over her shoulder.
"Eight o'clock." She pointed her finger at Michelle. "Smart dress code."
She was out of the door before she could say anything else. The younger woman watched her go, the frown across her face half concerned. She turned to Ryan.
"Do you think she's…alright?"
"I think…" Ryan smirked, letting out a slight chuckle at Michelle's painfully obvious oblivion. "You've just been asked out on a date."
|X|X|X|
Carla pushed open the door to Roy's Rolls. There was only one customer left, finishing what looked like the steak and kidney pie that was on the special's menu. Roy had already started to wipe down the counter.
"Roy, can I ask a huge favour?" Carla said, walking over towards the door that would lead upstairs to the flat. She was carrying a large garment bag over her arm.
"I can try and assist you…"
"Can I get ready upstairs?"
"Um… Has the Rovers Return experienced some sort of power outage? Because we should inform—"
"No, no." Carla assured him, smiling. "I just need to get ready and it's got to be, kind of a surprise."
He eyed her cautiously for a moment.
"I'm going out for dinner."
"Ah, right. With… Peter?" He guessed. Carla shook her head.
"No. I'm treating Michelle. She's done a lot for me…" She shrugged.
"Of course." He nodded. "Feel free to go up."
Carla thanked him and made her way up to the flat. She unzipped the bag, pulled out the dress she was planning to wear and went to hang it on the back of the bedroom door she'd become accustomed to staying in only months prior. She pulled the gown straight, scrutinising it. It was a knee length black number, v-necked, with a lace overlay and lace sleeves. She'd never worn it before. It was something she'd purchased while down in Devon but hadn't found the right occasion to sport it.
It took a while for her to get ready. All the time it took for Roy to clean and close up for the day. By the time he'd come up to the flat for the evening, Carla only had ten minutes before she was due to pick Michelle up. She checked her phone to make sure StreetCars had the booking confirmation before exiting the room. She'd taken the time to curl her hair, apply soft, smoky brown eyeshadow, a subtle winged liner, and a nude gloss. Even Roy looked taken aback when he saw her. She supposed it was a far cry from the way she'd looked recently.
"Will I do?"
"You look…Very presentable." He nodded. Carla let out a fond laugh.
"Thank you." She walked across to him and kissed his cheek, chuckling to herself when he grimaced slightly at the gloss she left on his skin. "And thank you for letting me get ready."
"Will you be needing to stay the night?"
Carla shook her head. "No… No, I'll be staying at the pub."
He nodded again and they bid one another goodnight.
Carla had to pick her way carefully across to the Rovers. It had been some time since she'd sported heels. Although, she'd made it slightly easier for herself with sleek, black wedges. She hesitated slightly as she reached the entrance and debated for a moment whether to go around the back. It was a Friday night, and she was sure the place would be busier than usual. She swallowed, took a deep breath to calm her sudden anxiety and pushed the door open.
It wasn't too rowdy. She supposed it was still early. Sally and Tim were in the nearest booth and they were having a little squabble.
"Yeah, but, a hundred pounds for a couple of lobster bits!" He groaned, peering at her screen. "Sal, we could get a finest meal deal from Frescho's and have a decent day out with the rest."
She huffed and tucked her phone away. Carla smirked to herself and made her way up to the bar. Jenny almost dropped the glass she was holding.
"Blimey, look at you!" She cried, turning to throw a glance at Johnny. "You look like you're ready for the Oscar's!"
Carla grinned. She had oversized, diamond studs in her ears and a matching necklace on. Johnny offered her a warm smile.
"You look absolutely stunning."
"Thank you…" She smiled back at him. Their compliments had quelled her nerves somewhat. "Is Michelle ready?"
"She's in the back room, she's dropped an earring." Jenny laughed, gesturing for her to go through.
"Mrs Connor, you look amazing!" Carla turned around at the sound of Sally's voice.
"Ah, thanks Sal." She nodded, adjusting the bag on her shoulder.
"It was right under the table!" Michelle's voice carried over before she'd come into view. She'd aimed the comment at Jenny as she walked through into the bar. She'd gone for a deep blue dress, sleeveless, in a sleek satiny material that reflected the light. Her hair was sleek too, and somehow even shinier than usual. She had one side tucked behind her ear, revealing a silver drop earring with a little pearl on the end. "It's murder trying to crouch down in this dr—"
She broke off as she spotted Carla at the latch of the bar. She'd been about to walk through. Michelle had always known she was striking, but she looked so devastatingly beautiful in front of her that she was just stood there, gawping, in a room full of punter's until she suddenly caught herself and cleared her throat quickly.
"Carla, you look—" But she was cut off again, this time due to the pub doors opening.
"Will you just show me?" Beth huffed, walking in with an excited Tracy. "Kirky's paused the film, he thinks I'm at the shop getting more tinnies."
"I will! Look. I just made Steve drive us past it. He was there. The fit one, from City—"
She broke off at the sight of Carla, her eyes flicking to Michelle.
"Wow. Does the nut house host an award ceremony or something?" She cackled, unfazed when Michelle took a few steps closer, flipping the latch on her bar. "The award for the barmiest bitch in Weatherfield—"
"Would go to you before it did Carla." Michelle scoffed. Carla placed a calming hand on her arm.
"Just show us the video!" Beth urged, nudging Tracy before she could start and argument with the fiery brunette. Tracy shot Michelle a filthy look before handing her phone to Beth.
"What and this is him coming out of that… that L'casser del—Whatchamacallit."
"It's pronounced La Casa Delle Aragoste." Carla put in smoothly, her voice low, accented. Michelle hoped to god that Carla couldn't feel the goosebumps that had suddenly erupted across her arms. "Or at least, that's how they answered the phone."
Michelle's gaze snapped to hers.
"What?"
Carla was wearing a smug little smirk across her face. Her expression made her look like so much like her former, healthier self, that Michelle was taken aback for a moment. It was so good to see her. She wanted to reach out and grab her, hug her, tell her how much she'd missed seeing that spark. She never wanted to see it dull again.
"Well, that's the surprise up." Carla laughed gently, reaching out for her hand. "That's where we're going." She watched Michelle's eyes widen.
"Are you serious?"
"Yep."
"But—how did you even manage to get a reservation? Robert was saying—"
"Ah, it's not who you know, it's who you've done business with." Carla winked, gesturing towards the door when a car beeped outside. "I think that's our Taxi."
Michelle was so excited that she forgot completely that she was nervous, or cautious. She let out a little squeal and pulled Carla into her arms, squeezing her. "Oh my god, you're the best."
Carla looked pleased with herself as she hugged the younger woman, and even more pleased at the sour expression on Tracy Barlow's face.
"Dev's got a meal deal on, if you're at a loose end." Michelle grinned, taking Carla's hand without hesitation, and allowing the other brunette to pull her out of the pub as they shot a quick thanks over to Johnny and Jenny who'd called out to them to enjoy their evening. "Did you see her face?" She hissed, giggling to herself as Carla pulled the cab door open for her.
She wasn't sure what it was about the gesture that suddenly pulled her back to earth. The nerves she'd experienced after Ryan's insistence that it was a date were back in full force. She'd barely been able to blend out the smoky grey shades across her lids and it had taken her twice as long to apply her lashes.
"I know, it could have turned milk!" Carla laughed, though suddenly looked thoughtful. "But…I didn't choose it to be… You know, flashy or anything." She shrugged, her fingers squeezing Michelle's. "I just wanted to take you somewhere nice. Somewhere special." She bit her lip nervously and noticed a flicker of anxiety in Michelle's eyes too. But Carla wasn't going to overthink anything tonight. She nodded to her. "Go on, jump in."
|X|X|X|
"I think that might have been the best thing I've ever had." Michelle set her knife and fork neatly on her plate. "You shouldn't have let me get a taste for this, though." She laughed, gesturing to her glass. It was half full of a light, fizzy champagne. She hadn't really wanted to drink, not when Carla couldn't but Carla had insisted that she tried a glass.
"Well, one of us has got to have fun." She teased, though she'd had the tiniest sip of Michelle's. It was good. Definitely not the kind of drink to swig at the park when your life was falling to pieces. She reached past one of the white, pillar candles that adorned the table and wrapped her fingers around the younger woman's, giving them an affectionate little squeeze. "And you deserve it."
Michelle smiled across at her, her head tilting slightly as she took in her features; the muted lighting emphasised her cheekbones, she could see flames from the candles reflected in her eyes. "You look really stunning, Carla."
Carla smiled widely, genuinely; her eyes creased with happiness. Sat here, in the kind of restaurant she thought she'd only ever see through a window, with her favourite person, she'd started to wonder if the last few weeks had just been one, intense nightmare. The warmth that settled in her chest made her feel so light that she almost couldn't believe she'd spent so long in a place so dark. Although she didn't allow her mind to linger there very long; she knew it was still a long way from okay and she wanted to grab hold and make the most of everything that made her feel this good.
"You scrub up pretty well yourself." She teased, lightly grazing her fingertip over the back of her hand. "Although Ryan's Ibiza top was very fetching on you."
Michelle laughed, giving her hand a gentle prod. "We agreed to never speak about that again."
The waiter came over when he saw that their plates were clear, and Michelle had finished the champagne. They declined politely when he asked if there was anything else they needed and Carla asked him for the bill.
"Carla, I can't let you pay for all of this." Michelle started, unhooking her bag from where it was hung over the back of her chair.
"Er, yes you definitely can." Carla insisted, reaching over to pull the clasp back shut. "I mean it." She raised a stern brow and Michelle shook her head, reluctantly sitting back. "This is my treat."
Michelle knew this was one argument she wasn't going to win, and so let Carla see to the bill while she attempted to book a taxi.
"They said half an hour. Or we could use another firm?" Michelle suggested.
Carla was looking out across the water. It was a nice night; she hadn't realised just how warm it had gotten. It was like she'd only just stepped back into the world again. "No, we can have a walk."
"In these shoes?" Michelle pointed out.
"I just mean along the bridge. We don't want to get back before last orders, it'll be heaving."
Michelle gave in and Carla offered out her hand. She took it without thinking and they set off together.
"Can you imagine if someone had told us as kids that one day we'd be off to flash dinners at Michelin star restaurants?" Michelle thought aloud, lightly swinging their hands as they walked down the bridge; it was lit in soft blue hues and it seemed like they were the only ones on it. They'd missed the sunset, but the water looked pretty with the lights from the modern, high-rise building's reflecting off it.
"We used to pour that appletiser stuff into plastic champagne flutes." Carla sighed nostalgically, coming to a halt once they were in the middle. She glanced out at the view, watching the shimmering lights on the water.
"And then you sprinkled some of my mum's potpourri onto beans on toast to make it look fancy and we both got sick as dogs." Michelle reminded her and Carla's face split as she let out a laugh.
"Oh yeah, I forgot about that." She grinned sheepishly. She almost made a joke about that being their first date, but bit her tongue. Carla wasn't even sure if they were on one, now. She just knew that she'd wanted to do something, something that might attempt to help her say how much she appreciated the woman in front of her.
"You know, I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for me over the last few weeks. You've been amazing. You somehow managed to do everything I needed, even when I didn't know I needed it." She laughed, though it was a saddened sound. "All the times you just sit and let me cry, or did my hair, or made sure I ate…Saved my life."
Michelle's expression softened, but her eyes were slightly glassy. Carla could see the reflection of the lights from the building behind her in them. "Carla, you don't have to thank me… I didn't do anything other than what I wanted to do. And I just wanted you safe and healthy and here. I'd do it again, and again, as many times as you needed." She admitted, reaching out for her hand.
"What, put your life in danger for me?" Carla whispered, pressing her lips together. She stared hard into her eyes. "Why?"
Michelle couldn't hold her intense gaze any longer. She turned to stare out across the water. "Because you're my best friend." Her voice was shaking. Her hand clutched hold of the top safety pole, she gripped it so tightly her knuckles whitened. Carla inched closer to her, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. She could see her eyes slowly filling.
"Why are you so frightened, baby?" She spoke softly. Her hand had lingered in her hair.
"Because…" Michelle started, taking a shaking breath in. "We had this…this amazing night together and it was the best I've ever felt. And I have all these…feelings that I've never had before in my life…and I don't know why… and it makes me feel like I don't know who I am." She finally admitted, still staring hard at the water.
Carla realised just how spot on Kate had been, and was suddenly grateful she'd waited to talk to her. She'd have to thank her properly. Maybe. Hopefully. She moved her hand to the side of her face and gently turned the younger woman to face her. Her eyes were glistening with tears and Carla softened her own, offered her a gentle, reassuring smile.
"It's okay to be scared and confused… It just means that, you know, things are changing…"
"It's changed between us, hasn't it?" Michelle whispered.
"That doesn't have to be a bad thing." Carla assured her gently. She brought a comforting hand up to the middle of her back and made soothing circles over the cool satin material of her dress.
"What if it messes everything up? Everything we have…" The younger woman confessed her worry and a solitary tear fell down her cheek. Carla reached up and brushed It away. She let her hand fall to her hair and started to wind strands of it around her finger. It felt as silky as it looked.
"What if it makes it better?" She asked, close enough to her that Michelle could feel her words warming her face.
"It's too soon after everything you've been through."
Carla sighed softly, shaking her head. "Even when I was paranoid and delusional and I didn't know anything, I knew you. You were real." The hand that wasn't at her back moved to wind itself around Michelle's waist and she let it. She didn't protest when Carla pulled her closer. "I know you think my mind is this jumbled mess, and yeah maybe at the moment it is… but even through all of that…You're the one thing that actually makes perfect sense to me."
Carla's forehead was lightly resting against hers now. But Carla had been this close to her before. And right now she couldn't do it, she couldn't move further. It had to be her, she had to be the one to do it because if she didn't, then Carla knew it was over…
"Please stop running from me, 'Chelle…"
If Carla hadn't had such a close hold on her, Michelle thought she might have collapsed. Her heart was thudding so hard in her chest she was surprised it wasn't shaking the entire bridge. She felt unsteady in her heels, her knees weren't solid and her throat ached from the effort it was taking not to burst into tears. But her stomach fluttered too, and Carla's soothing motions against her back sent shivers down her spine, and her nose had bumped lightly into hers. She could feel the warmth of each breath she took.
"I don't think I can, anymore." She whispered, bringing one hand up to rest at the side of her neck, her fingers sliding into the back of her hair. "I'm tired of running." Michelle tilted her head and her eyes fluttered closed as she tentatively touched her lips to Carla's. It was soft, and brief, but when she knew it was okay, she leant in once more. She caught her lips between her own again in a lingering kiss and Carla started to respond. She slid her hand further into Carla's hair, holding the back of her head to keep her there. It the kiss they should have had the first time. The kiss they'd both wanted the first time. It wasn't the one she'd pulled away from, or the one she'd slammed against Carla's mouth in the midst of a heated row on the landing in the middle of the night, but she knew it was the one there was no turning back from.
"Do you know how long I've wanted you to kiss me like that?" Carla whispered, causing them both to let out a breath of laughter when they'd broken apart. Michelle nuzzled her nose playfully against the other woman's and kissed her again. Some of the uncertainty that had weighed her heart had lifted; maybe she got some of what Carla had been saying about everything making sense now.
"Sorry I made you wait…"
Carla shook her head, moving her hand from her back to cup her face. She stroked her thumb over her cheek. They moved in together again, Carla caught her lower lip between her own and it was firmer this time. She was no longer worried Michelle would pull away, not when she was holding her so close, not when she could feel her smiling against her mouth. She moved her hand beneath her chin and tilted her face slightly, so she could look at her. Her eyes were shining with something Carla reckoned was similar to the way she was feeling in her chest. She gave her another quick, delicate kiss.
"You were worth it."
A\n: I felt like they deserved some happiness. A little bit of calm in the midst of a continuing storm…
Thank you for reading and all your lovely reviews!