Chapter 53:

A/N: There has been a delay because this chapter has been a struggle to write. Basically, I needed this to take place in order to set up the storylining I would like to go ahead with, but at the same time, I don't want to focus too heavily on Robert. I'm not interested in that to be honest, lol. But at the same time, I want to make it realistic and I know things wouldn't just blow over in a day. So it has been tedious. Either way, I hope you enjoy this, and as the Christmas chapter will be next, I'm sure it will be up a lot faster! Also massive thanks to BrooklynBlue for listening to me complain all the way through this chapter and helping me persevere with it!

Also, the second half of this chapter follows the scene storyline from 24th December 2018, so if you want to watch that first to refresh your minds, it's up on the fab YouTube channel AKCG!

Trigger warnings:

Descriptions of anxiety attack - POV 1


Michelle

"...What?" My body almost falls limp, as if suddenly forgetting the anxiety that had been soaring around my body for the last half an hour.

"What's this? Robert's been shot?" I hear Sally pipe up, the words spinning in my mind. They don't think he'll make it. Granted, I far from had any remaining feelings for the man. But to think he might not survive... After everything we had been through together. If it hadn't been for Robert, Carla and I wouldn't have been able to get married at all.

"Chelle..." It's Carla's voice that pulls me from my trance. I turn to look at her, shocked and confused, although I could tell in her eyes she was feeling exactly the same. My mind was so cloudy. It was as if somebody had lit a fire behind my temple and my whole head was filling with smoke. Poisonous, intoxicating smoke that I couldn't escape from. It was suffocating me. I couldn't breathe. "Michelle, no." I hear her voice again, zoning out, my vision blurring.

You know what they say, you can't help who you fall in love with.

You actually told me she stayed over! In our bed? Our bed?

All I want is for you to be happy. Carla makes you happy. You've been through enough pain and heartache, both of you. You deserve a bit of luck.

I stand bolt upright all of a sudden, the hushed voices and speculation around me not even apparent. To me, it was silent. Then I hear the creak of the factory door. The sound of footsteps. It was about to happen again. My breath catches in my throat. My legs give way, knees buckling as I fall down on them.

Everybody down on the floor!

Down on the ground. Now! Get down!

Help her. Or I'll shoot her first!

Ok, I need a hostage.

You.

"Not again. No. No. No. No!" I just scream at him, cowering on the floor. "Stop doing this to us! Stop! Stop!" I was waiting for the gun to fire. I was waiting to feel the stab of pain again. The weakness and defeat as I fell to the floor. I waited. I waited. I waited.

"Michelle!" I am shaken so vigorously all of a sudden that I choke on my own panic, winding myself with shock and terror, fighting for breath. I cough violently. The smoke was moving to my throat. Descending to my lungs. "1, 2, 3, 4. Michelle. 1, 2, 3, 4." I begin to hear hazy numbers, a comforting voice, the hard floor beneath me, two hands on my shoulders. It wasn't Phelan in front of me. They were a lot closer. A lot kinder. A lot safer. They were trying to help me. "Calm down baby, that's it." Carla's voice comes into focus, her expression alarmed at the state I was in. "That's it. Well done. Just breathe." It becomes more real and I squint, swallowing against the lump in my throat and realising it was never smoke. There was never a gun. Not in here anyway. "Michelle. Can you hear me?"

"Mm." I nod my head vigorously, my eyes latching on to hers finally. She lets out a sigh of relief, cupping my face in her hands, whispering soothing phrases to me. I don't even have to look around to know that everybody was staring at the scene I had played out. Fright, shock, maybe even amusement for some. I lift my hand in front of my face, clenching my fingers, drawing myself back to reality.

"You scared me then." Carla murmurs, her voice shaking slightly. It showed, the states I got myself into could even knock her pretences out of the water. "You're ok. It's all ok now."

Studying her expression, I feel Ryan shift uncomfortably next to me, realising it was his hand on my back. He looked terrified, stunned that I could be taken to such dark places when my mind played tricks on me. But I knew. Even when I was at rock bottom, I knew when Ryan was holding something back. I had raised him. I had learnt every mannerism; every dip of his head, every twinge of a smile. I knew what it meant when his face went like that. "...Is Robert dead?" I direct it at Carla and she hesitates, nodding slowly.

"Yes. I'm so sorry, darlin'." She whispers, pulling me close to her. I don't even cry, I just stare over her shoulder as she sways me.

"Ali said they tried everything they could." Ryan muffles from next to me and I just nod, breathing in the comforting scent of Carla's perfume. She made me feel so safe even when I was the most scared. "The uh... The man with the gun. He's dead too. The police are at the scene just outside. But it's safe now, mum."


Carla

Passing Michelle to Ryan, I force my shaking legs to stand, tending to where I could hear Johnny's voice calling from the entrance. Taking my keys, I twist them in the lock, unbolting the safety locks and pulling them open to face him.

"Thank God you're safe." He hugs me tightly, moving a hand up and down my back. I didn't realise how much I needed it until I was in his arms. "How's Michelle? Does she know about Robert?"

"She's not good." I admit, pulling back, noting the blue lights and flashes of red and green that swam behind him. My eyes fall to where there was a covered stretcher, Johnny's gaze following mine.

"The shooter. Somebody Gary got on the wrong side of." Johnny explains and I just nod. "Can I see Michelle?"

"It's knocked her back, but yeah. We've just managed to draw her round from an anxiety episode." I lead him into the factory, letting the doors stand open as I reach the crowd again. "Right guys uh, it's safe to go now." I smile at them all. "...I hope you all had a good party."

Beth is first to raise her hand. "Uh, will we still be opening on Monday?"

"Yes Beth, nice try." I shoot her a smug smile, dismissing them all as if it was the end of a working day. "Go check on your families. Relax this weekend."

"Carla?" Sarah asks as she passes me, tapping her mobile against her hand anxiously. "Uh, that was David... Shona's in a coma. She was one of the victims... If she's still like this on Monday, I-"

"Take the week off." I pat her arm gently and she looks surprised. "And give my love to David. Sarah, best of luck." I tell her as she passes me, exchanging words of gratitude. "How you holding up, sweetie?"

"Fine." Michelle just responds, now sat on a chair with a glass of water in her hand. I was grateful that it was just the four of us now. I'm sure she would be as well. "Bet they all think I'm a right nutter. Bet they're all wondering why everything has to be about me."

"They're not, Chelle." I assure, kneeling down before her. "Everyone was terrified."

"You weren't. At least you hid it well." She fixates on me, reaching out a finger to graze down my cheek. "You're amazing. You save me."

"You don't need saving, that was all you." I am gentle as I place a kiss to her lips, lingering only for a moment as I didn't want to push anything. "I admire your strength, pulling yourself out of that. Give yourself credit."

"Is it over?" She searches me and I nod, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Yeah." I smile. "It's over."


Michelle

There is a soft ringing in my ears that draws me to reality. But this time, comforting, safe, warm. I don't need to lift my eyelids to know where I was. Carla's arms were secure around me, protecting me from harm. It was crazy to think how content I was now after...

My eyes open regretfully as I remember the previous night. Drunk on anxiety and grief.

Robert was dead.

"Hey, sleepy." A voice cuts through my thoughts, but softly, like a cloud narrowly missing covering the sun. "It's ten twenty. You must've needed that."

"...Yeah." I realise how croaky my voice is once I try to emit a response. My eyes scan the ceiling, drift down the walls, eventually turning my head to bury it in Carla's chest. I wanted to go back to sleep. I didn't want to face the day. "...Should I have gone to the hospital?"

"No baby. There's nothing you could have done." She rubs my back soothingly and I just nod into her pyjama top, stroking my fingers across the silky material. She was so understanding. I try to imagine putting myself in her situation, if this was ever Peter or Nick. Would she feel sad or nostalgic? Would I be selfish enough to feel bitter about it? "We can stay here all day. We don't have to move."

"He hardly has any family." I just mumble. "Who's going to open the Bistro?"

"Well I don't think that's really much of a worry at the moment." She reminds me and I just let out a quiet sigh. "Can I get you anything?"

"I should be the one fussing over you." I sit up, almost sulkily folding my arms. "Can I get you anything?"

"Michelle..." She is gentle as she says my name, and I know what is to come next, "you've just lost your ex-boyfriend. It's ok to grieve. I'm here for you."

"...I'm fine."

"Even I'm not fine." She sighs, grazing a hand up my thigh. "Ok, so. Duvet day. Let's start with putting the kettle on. Yeah?"


Carla

"...Are you watching that?" I ask as I pass the sofa, looking at how she was staring straight ahead, more interested in the pattern on the wallpaper. My eyes drift to the TV screen when I get no response. A birthing documentary, excellent. I was sure that was exactly what she needed to be watching right now. Moving to the kitchen and deciding it best not to pester her further, I start drying up, trying to shut out the sounds coming from the television that were making me feel sick. It sounded excruciating. My stomach flipped horribly at the thought. "Michelle do you mind if we turn it off?" I eventually ask, turning and pacing over, flicking the screen to blank and breathing a sigh of relief. I stare into the silence for a moment, a look of distaste on my face, composing myself. "...Hey, least you haven't got to do that again."

Eventually, she raises her head, slowly, finally drawing herself out of the trance she had been so distracted in. "...Do what?"

"Give birth." I prompt her furrowed brow, and I could tell by the confusion on her face that she hadn't even been listening to a word I was saying, or even what had been on the television. "Baby, you're miles away."

"Yeah I know." She rubs her temple. "Sorry."

"Why don't we go for a walk or something?" I suggest, taking a seat next to her and shifting against the arm of the sofa. "A breath of fresh air might do you good."

"No I don't... Feel like it." She just dismisses and I sigh, desperate for this not to happen all over again. It was like something new came along every week to trigger her PTSD. Just when she managed to progress, something pulled her back again.

"...I know you're anxious to leave the flat-"

"I'm not!" She suddenly snaps and I shut my mouth, fiddling with the tassels on the cushion, shocked and frustrated at how every attempt to make her feel better was constantly shot down. Tears sprung to my eyes without warning. Hormones were driving me up the wall. It was as if I didn't get control over my emotions anymore. I loathed being this sensitive. I wanted to go back to being the hard-faced cow who took no prisoners. "I will leave the flat. Last night was just a... Step back."

Pausing in thought, I cast my mind back to the previous night. Seeing Michelle that way; all the panic and paranoia and terror, it made me sick. To think that she suffered alone the night she went awhile in Manchester, terrified and traumatised by the men trying to help her call an ambulance. Maybe it had been too soon to decide to have children. She clearly hadn't completely recovered. I felt selfish for casting it aside and pursuing our other plans, thinking it would all blow over. But it was too late to be having second thoughts now.

"I think I'm gonna go to the factory." I rise, pulling my jacket on after a moment of contemplation. "It's gonna be a state after last night. I can't leave it like that until Monday morning."

"Ok." She just responds and my body tenses, shifting my bag onto my shoulder. "...Do you want any help?"

"No it's fine." I tell her, knowing it was for the best. "I think we could both do with some space. Hm? Call me if you need me though."

"Yep." Is all I receive as a reply, and I lean down to kiss the top of her head before leaving.


Carla

The factory had been worse than imagined. Glass bottles, party poppers, empty cans, paper hats. I didn't know when the day had arrived that I was on my hands and knees scrubbing a floor at three and a half months pregnant. If the photo that sat in the tea room of me with Michelle, Liam and Paul at the Underworld Christmas party, 2006, could speak, it would be laughing at my personal development. Or lack of it.

The bell tinkles softly as I dare to push the door open to Preston's Petals. I was surprised Tracy had opened up. After all, it was a homage to her now dead ex-husband. I can tell she has been crying before I reach the counter. Head dipped, eyes red and puffy, folding a piece of tissue paper pointlessly.

"Hi." I greet softly and her head snaps up, instantly shooting a glare in my direction. A formality.

"What do you want?" She snaps, as if I had come round to rub salt in her wounds.

"...Some flowers?" I point out obviously and her face falls for a moment, clearly feeling slightly stupid, or maybe relieved that she didn't have to put up a fight. "I'm surprised you're working."

"Yeah well keeps me busy." She just shrugs, clearly not having the energy for snide comments today. "What are you after?"

I study the catalogue in front of me, picking out something Michelle would like, alongside something to brighten up the memorial that had been made for Robert outside the Bistro.

The Tilda. Pillowy roses, lisianthus and carnations swirl around aromatic eucalyptus.

"Uh, I'll get those for Michelle." I point to the bouquet. "And... You pick out something for Robert. You knew him better than me."

"...Right." She just nods, her expression fragile. "Well it'll be about fifteen minutes."

"I'll wait." I flash her a smile, taking a seat. She looks rather put-out by this. Maybe she wanted the opportunity to cry again, and there was no chance of her doing that in front of me. "How's Amy?" I dare to make conversation as she busies herself. "Have you told her?"

"Yes. She's... Ok." Tracy shrugs, avoiding any eye contact before averting the subject. "I heard about the little bus of kids you've got swimming around inside you."

"...From who?"

"From Steve." She confirms and I nod in recollection, forgetting momentarily that Michelle had told him weeks ago. "Congrats. Didn't have you down as the type... Well, until the stuff with my brother."

Even she is hesitant to mention it and I just nod, deciding not to discuss the topic further. "Thanks." Is all I offer, waiting for some kind of remark about how they will drive me up the wall, or that I would regret it as soon as they pop out of me. But it doesn't come, there is silence. And willingly, I take that as a cue to go through my phone for the next ten minutes.

"Right." She eventually pipes up after a while, presenting two bouquets on the counter. "Sixty pounds then."

"Card?" I ask and she just nods, holding the machine out to me. "You'll take care of yourself, won't you?"

"Since when did you care?" She screws her nose up slightly and I just shrug.

"Things like this... It makes you see how it could be anybody. And I wouldn't wish that, even on my worst enemies." I pass her a side eye, making it evident that she was in fact one of them. "We've got to pull together. Like we always do." Smiling as warmly as possible, I take the bouquets in my arms. "See you, Tracy."


Carla

It was like flipping a coin as I pushed open the flat door, mentally betting on how Michelle's mood would be and which way the conversation would go.

The good news was that she was no longer sat on the sofa, staring aimlessly at the crack in the wallpaper. Instead, she was pacing up and down the kitchen, a glass of water in her hand, clearly on edge about something.

"...You ok?" I eye up the glass, making sure it was water and not straight vodka. "Has something happened?"

"Uh... Sort of." She responds, stopping in her tracks as I gently take the glass from her, putting it on the side. I wait patiently without questioning her further, her eyes drifting to the bouquets I had bought on my travels. "I need to tell you something."

"Well don't worry yourself, hey." I stroke a hand down her arm before turning to pick up the bouquet of peach and cream carnations and roses, handing them to her with a smile on my face. "For you."

"...I don't deserve flowers." She just frowns, taking them from me hesitantly and I tilt my head, arching a brow. "I treat you like dirt."

"It's a hard day." I remind her as she drops her head to smell them, closing her eyes momentarily.

"Carla... They're gorgeous... I..." I can see tears misting her eyes. Maybe it was what she needed; to cry. Even if she was hiding the true reason behind it. "...Thank you. I'm sorry for how I spoke to you."

"Hey, forgotten already." I cup her cheek, before moving to put the kettle on. She doesn't busy herself arranging the flowers in a vase, just stands there holding them tightly. "What was it then?"

"What?" Her gaze draws back to me, clearly exhausted despite being flat out this morning.

"...You said you had to tell me something." I prompt her, taking the flowers after filling a vase with water. "You haven't slept with someone have ya?" I joke but the flicker in her eyes makes my stomach flip horribly. "...Chelle?"

"No. No! Course not." She realises what I have said, taking my hands in hers once I have lowered the flowers onto the kitchen surface. "I've had a call from Robert's solicitor."

"...Right?"

"...He's left me everything, Carla." She reveals and I swallow, going silent as I process the information. "The Bistro, his flat, his money... He must have never updated his will after we split up... I guess he thought he had a while left to do it."

My eyes scan hers, pondering the information, letting it sink in. "...Wow."

"I don't know what to do." Her shoulders droop with guilt. "I can't... Take it. I don't deserve it. But he has no other family. His parents are dead. He has no children... Had." She hesitates, her lip quivering slightly. "He always wanted to be a dad... He never got the chance."

"Come here." I whisper, pulling her close, feeling her silently cry into me. Rocking her slowly, I think over the information, riddled with guilt myself at the thought of all Robert's possessions being gifted to our marriage. "...You've got to keep the Bistro open, Chelle. In his memory. That's what he'd have wanted."

"Carla, we own a factory. I have a wedding business. I can't run a restaurant and all!" She pulls back, clearly panicked at the suggestion. "Plus it would feel wrong! I left him for you. I broke his heart. Who knows? If I hadn't done that then maybe he wouldn't-"

"Hey, no. We're not starting that." I tell her softly, placing my hands on her shoulders. "There is nothing you could have done to prevent this, Chelle. Sometimes, life has its own plans. It sounds cruel but... Maybe it was his time to go."

"...Everyone's going." She whispers, sadness and worry flickering in her eyes, searching me for reassurance. "Everyone's leaving."

"I'm not." I promise her, kissing her cheek, moving my hand to my tummy. "And these two. Hey, they haven't even started yet."

"...We could leave." She just utters, so quietly I hardly hear her. "We could run away. Run away from here. It's too dangerous. We'll die here. If we don't leave. We could take this money and leave. Somewhere we're safe."

"Michelle... This is your head exaggerating things again." I tap it gently, being careful how I phrase things so she doesn't blow. "We don't need to leave."

"We'll die here." She repeats and I try to laugh softly.

"We won't die here. I'm not staying in Weatherfield until I'm ninety four."

"...Ninety four?"

"Yes, that's when I've decided I'm going to die." I shrug, winding a piece of hair behind her ear. "When these kiddies are on their own journeys, they've taken over the factory, and you and me have moved to the sea side. A cottage overlooking the sea, maybe. Could even get a dog." I nudge her and she tries to figure out if I'm being serious. "But that isn't for a long time. Because we're okay. We're going to be okay."

"...You think about that stuff?" She asks quietly, as if surprised that I planned a future with her.

"Course I do. It's what you do when you love someone." I give her a reassuring smile and I see the corners of her mouth tug upwards, a soft blush tinting her cheeks. "Hey, you don't need to worry about the will today. Ok? You have all the time in the world to decide what to do. And I will stand by you, whatever you choose." I flick my head around, studying the other bouquet by the door. "I bought those flowers for Robert's memorial, at the Bistro. I thought we could have a walk? Lay them down?"

"Ok." She nods, and I am surprised at her decision and how easily it was to talk her into leaving the flat. "Ok... Just give me five minutes to get changed."


Michelle

I had found myself stuck in trances for a couple of days. It was as if sometimes my thoughts overpowered my body. Stopped it still. As if I was living in my head, not a physical being, just a thought. Just a mess of thoughts. I was sleeping a lot, but maybe that was just another way of losing myself. Only that way, it was losing myself in thoughts that I couldn't control. That I couldn't predict.

Last night, I had dreamt that I'd been walking along a country path. Walking and walking and walking. My feet had ached, my breath was ragged, but I couldn't stop. I just kept walking. The night before that, I dreamt that I was stuck in the Bistro with no exit. Searching desperately for the door, some way of escape. But it was sealed up, and I had been sealed in, and I had woken with a start, heart pounding, palms sweating, breath erratic and Carla had to calm me down. She stayed up for hours. She made me tea. She stroked my hair. She told me the stories that she told to Rob when he was scared in the night as a kid. And eventually, I fell asleep again. Drawn under into an uncontrollable slumber.

So now I was daydreaming, staring at the lights twinkling on the Christmas tree, like stars in the sky or diamonds on a gown. Weirdly, I felt content. I had tried so hard to fight my anxieties the last few days, to push through my mentality. I'd made sure to leave the flat everyday, even just for a walk. I had been to therapy twice. I had even made mince pies to keep myself occupied. They really weren't the best. But Carla had forced one down all the same, if only to show her pride in how I was carrying on.

I knew now, this had to stop. I couldn't keep letting it overpower me. It was time for me to step up for Carla. Right now was a scary point in her life, she didn't need me going off the rails. I wasn't going to do to her what Peter did. I was going to do the exact opposite. Whatever that took.

"Hey sweetie, did you have that call with the solicitor?" Carla glides past me, the melodic sound of her voice drawing me more comfortably from my thoughts than in previous days.

It takes me a moment, however, to adjust to the situation. Repeating her words back to myself a few times before just uttering the words, "yes. She said it's all official."

"So it's just a case of deciding what to do." She takes a seat in the armchair, biting into a piece of toast. "Well, you take your time. You know I'll support you whatever you decide."

"I just don't know whether it would be too difficult." I open up to her. "You know? It's my late ex-boyfriend's restaurant. It's where I was almost murdered. It's somewhere that triggers my PTSD more than anywhere else..."

"So, cut your ties." Carla suggests and I contemplate it for a moment. "I'm sure there's someone on this street who would take over the place, keep it going in Robert's memory. Hey, I bet Nick would bite your hand off."

"...I don't want Nick to have it." I sigh, massaging my temples in thought. "I don't want anyone to have it."

"Well, just see what happens." She shifts to kneel in front of me, taking my hands. "Day by day, yeah?"

"Day by day." I repeat, fixing my eyes on hers as she leans in to kiss me.


Michelle

"Wow, it's festive in here." Carla greets as we enter the Rovers hand-in-hand. "Jenny's really gone all out, hasn't she?"

"Jenny's opening the Christmas wine." She slurs loudly, appearing from the back room, screwing the top off a bottle. Although it looked like she had already started on the wine a few hours ago. "Want a glass, girls?"

"...No." Carla prompts, as she pours out two glasses, sloshing a little over the sides.

"Oh come on. It's free." She holds it out and Carla glares at her. "And it's Christmas... Eve, Eve... Eve."

"And I'm pregnant." She reminds her, not even bothering to keep her voice down now. Jenny retracts her hand, a flicker of remembrance in her expression. "So I'll just have a lime and soda, thank you."

"Oh yes. Gosh, I must be blind as well as drunk." Jenny moves her eyes to Carla's stomach, as Johnny rolls his eyes, setting about making her drink. "Is it normal to be that... Big? This early? Sure it's not three of them in there? Ooh, think of the stretch marks in a few months time..." She ponders and Carla's head drops to her stomach, clearly bothered by her remarks, which I knew were unintentionally rude.

"...Full of festive joy, aren't you Jenny?" Carla narrows her eyes, which Jenny mistakingly takes as a compliment. "Arrived early on Santa's sleigh, did you?"

"Lime and soda." Johnny places it down on the bar, cutting over the brewing tension and glancing at me. "Michelle?"

"Oh, I'll just drink this free wine." I shrug, picking up my glass before moving my eyes to Carla. "Don't mind if I have a drink, do you?"

"No, enjoy yourself." She nudges me. "Drink for both of us."

"So, any ideas on what you're going to do about the Bistro?" Johnny asks. We had told family about my apparent inheritance. Naturally, they had all told me not to feel so guilty. But it was easier said than done.

"Well... I think I'm gonna pack the wedding business in for starters." I begin, noticing the furrow of Carla's brow. "I'm too busy with the factory anyway now. It's just been some extra pocket money for a while."

"You didn't tell me you were finishing with wedding planning?" Carla prompts me.

"Well... Can't really run a factory and a restaurant together when I've got that on the side, can I?"

"So... You're gonna do it? You're gonna own the Bistro and all?" Carla's eyes widen at my sudden change of heart.

"We're gonna own it." I correct her, prompting the smile to cross her cheeks. "But... I was thinking someone else could run it." I turn to Johnny. "How do you think Kate would feel about being in charge of the place? She was loyal to Robert, she's the best staff member there, I'm sure it's what he'd have wanted."

"I think it's a brilliant idea." Johnny claps his hand over mine. "She'll be over the moon."

"And while we're on the subject, I was thinking... Why don't we spend Christmas Day at the Bistro? Or just the morning, early-afternoon, till you open the pub?" I suggest, consulting the group now. "I mean, it's going to be cramped in the back of here and it's not even open to the public again yet so it'll be a private party... We can raise a glass to Robert, to Aidan. What do you think?"

"...Who's gonna cook dinner?" Carla asks and Jenny chimes in before I can think of a solution.

"Ooh, hark at her, you'll need a turkey to yourself the way you're blowing up." Jenny laughs to herself but I can tell Carla is slightly offended, trying to brush it off.

"Uh... I'll cook." I shrug and Carla raises an eyebrow. "We can all help, can't we? And we'll have the big kitchen so..."

"Well, I suppose it does make more sense than us all cramming ourselves in here." Johnny is swayed and I clap my hands excitedly.

"Yeah, especially with Carla taking up all the room at the table-" Jenny begins, but her face falls when Carla slams her bag down on the table, turning on her heel and disappearing into the bathroom. "...Oh I was only joking!"

"Yes well, it's something she's quite insecure about." I hiss at her. "It's been dig, dig, dig with you since we arrived. Stop commenting on her weight gain. She's pregnant, Jenny. And she's struggling enough with the idea as it is."

"I just thought... I thought we were having a laugh, you know? I wasn't calling her fat as such. I thought she'd want us to make light of the pregnancy. It's a fun time!"

"Yes well, keep your gob shut next time." I tell her before going after Carla, entering the toilets to hear a muffled sob coming from one of the cubicles. It was locked, so I just hoist myself up onto the sinks, waiting patiently until the door swings open. Her eyes land on mine straight away, as if shocked that I had followed her in here.

"...Oh, hello." She drags a hand over her face, even though it was obvious she had been crying. "There's still two cubicles free." She indicates, trying to pass the subject over and I just narrow my eyes, jumping down and taking a few steps towards her. I place my hands on her shoulders, smiling as I gaze at the beauty in her face. "...What?"

"You are so beautiful. Don't let anybody make you think otherwise." I promise her, kissing her nose, moving to her jaw.

"...I'm fine." She lies, folding her arms over her stomach and I draw back, pulling her hands away, glancing down at the soft curve that had formed under her top. "It's just a big thing for me. I've never had to... Deal with this."

"I know." I nod understandingly. "Kimberley Doyle called me fat when I was pregnant, you beat her up."

"Yeah well, if you could beat Jenny up to repay the favour, I'd be very grateful." She half-jokes, despite the look of severity in her eye. "I just... Have spent my whole life... Knowing that I have my looks to fall back on. It sounds narcissistic I know but when all else fails, at least I've got that. At least I could use it to get me a vodka and tonic at that scummy pub by the estate at seventeen, or to talk clients into doing business with me when the factory is on its knees. It's the one thing I was always judged for. The thing people noticed about me... Now everything's changing it's so weird to me, Chelle. I know I should suck it up like every mum-to-be. But I guess I'm not like the normal ones, am I?"

"Oh, who's normal?" I nudge her gently. "Nobody knows what they're doing. Nobody knows what to expect. You should go on those pregnancy forums and talk to women in the same position."

"...I'd rather just talk to you." She scrunches her nose up, studying me for reassurance. "You always know what to say. You always know how I'm feeling. You always understand me. You don't tell me I'm being stupid."

"Because you're not." I laugh gently, pausing as I push a piece of hair behind her ear. "Hey... I've been running myself up the wall with guilt the last few months... For how I've treated you... For what I've put you through, when you've needed me more than ever. And then I woke up the other morning and I just thought... 'This woman lying next to me. This beautiful, intelligent, generous woman, is going above and beyond to make us happy. To bring us our little family. To complete our future.' And I realised that everything that's ever happened to me, is nothing in comparison to my love and care for you. But I haven't shown it recently. I've neglected you. And I am so, genuinely sorry."

"...You haven't-"

"No, don't." I shake my head, raising a finger to her lips. "When I was pregnant, I could not have coped if Dean or Steve hadn't been there for me to cry to, to wait on me, to listen to my complaints, to reassure me. From now on, it's you and these two. That's what I'm focusing on. Nothing else matters. Just doing everything I possibly can to keep you happy."

"...I don't think you quite realise that with my previous track record, you're an angel sent from heaven in comparison to Peter, Frank, Tony." She reminds me and I tilt my head to the side. "Stop beating yourself up."

"Right ok, but we have a deal?" I link my little finger with hers.

"...What's the deal?"

"Three things." I smile appreciatively, running my fingers through her hair. "One, I'll stop beating myself up, if two, you keeping remembering how beautiful you are. No matter how big you grow. You're perfect."

"...And three?" She bites the smile away from her lips.

"And three." I lean in, brushing my lips against hers. "You let me buy you a kebab on the way home because I know you're craving one."

"How do you know that?" She shoots backwards, astounded at how I read her mind.

"Chicken tikka, sweet chilli sauce-" I begin to list off and she slams her hands over her ears, singing loudly like a child.

"Michelle, I do not want to resort to being a woman who eats kebabs from Prima Donner." She shakes her head in panic and I have to stifle a laugh as I step towards her, grazing my thumb down her cheek.

"Just stop stressing." I whisper, as she calms at my embrace. "Live life however you want to, and I'll be right by your side."


Carla

"Ugh, do we have to have that on?" I wince as Sarah whacks the radio up, blasting Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) out over the office.

"It's Christmas Eve!" Sarah exclaims, draping tinsel around Michelle's shoulders. "It's bad enough that we've got to work."

"I said we should close the factory." Michelle raises her hand, siding with Sarah and I narrow my eyes.

"Christmas Eve is not a public holiday." I point out, reaching for the clipboard Sarah had laid down on my desk. "It's just an excuse for people to stuff their faces and drink too much Prosecco for one more day."

"Ooh, check you out - Scrooge." Michelle kicks me gently under the table, turning her chair to face Sarah. "Ignore her, she's hormonal."

"Yeah well I seem to remember you spending Christmas at ours in 2015 and you were loving it." Sarah points at me and I try to trace my mind back. "I was pregnant then and all, still managed to crack a smile."

"I'm not in a mood!" I let out a soft laugh, scanning the clipboard in front of me. "Especially after seeing these figures... We've made good progress."

"Yeah?" Sarah's eyes light up and I purse a smile, glancing out at the shop floor where the machinists were laughing and singing, Sean acting out some skit in a Christmas hat, forever the centre of attention. "So..."

"So." I lower the clipboard, turning back to them, noticing the glint in Michelle's eye. "Right, family meeting." I rise, opening the office door and prompting Sean immediately to freeze in his position. "Sean, what do you think you're doing?"

"...Uh..." He holds his arms by his sides like a naughty school boy. "Well... They all betted I couldn't act out the twelve days of Christmas off the top of my head."

"There's gambling going on in my factory?" I make my tone sound overly dramatic and they can instantly tell I am winding them up. "Anyone would have thought it was Christmas Eve." I fold my arms, watching their hopeful faces. "Michelle, in my desk drawer there's a bunch of envelopes. Get them will you?"

"Yes your highness." She slaps my shoulder lightly before fetching them, proceeding to hand them out to the names scrawled across each one.

"A little Christmas bonus for you all." I wink and Beth squeals with excitement. "Don't spend it all in The Rovers tomorrow. Can't have Johnny's business doing better than mine."

"Thanks Mrs C! Thanks Michelle!" Sean rips his open, as Michelle wraps her arms around my shoulders from behind.

"And..." I hesitate, allowing them time to all look up again curiously. "Have an early dart. Go on, get off. Spend the afternoon with your families."

"Seriously?" Izzy asks and I arch a brow, knowing I was winning myself brownie points.

"Do you want me to change my mind?" I challenge her and she shakes her head, immediately setting her wheelchair in the direction of the door. "Merry Christmas, guys."

There is a chorus of people returning the phrase, Kirk and Beth giggling as they usher each other out, Sean's cheeks rosy with glee.

"Uh, can I go?" Sarah asks hesitantly.

"No, sorry. There's a load of invoices that need filing and emails that need sending. Don't mind locking up, do you?" Her face falls suddenly and I let out a laugh, rolling my eyes. "Sarah of course you can go. Go on."

"Thanks, David's taking the kids to see Santa. I might just catch them at this rate." She claps her hands, gathering her things and wishing us a happy holidays before exiting the factory.

"Visiting Santa." I swing around, wrapping my arms around Michelle's neck. "That'll be us in a few years time."

"Yes it will." She kisses me, biting her lip once she has pulled back. "Soft, aren't you really? Bet you were planning to do that all day."

"Well I like to keep them on their toes." I shrug, moving in to kiss her again and emitting a soft hum against her lips. "And you. What do you say? Fancy getting off?"

"With you? Yeah." She bites her lip cockily and I give her a playful shove. "Don't know whether my boss would like that very much."

"Do you just enjoy calling me that even though we own this place fifty-fifty?"

"Yep... It's sexy actually."

"Right well, get your coat on." I tease her, releasing myself from the embrace we were held in. "We're going to The Rovers before you get too carried away."


Michelle

"There you go ladiezzzz." Jenny slurs, dropping our glasses on the bar and nearly spilling them both. "A red wine and an orange juice."

"...Cheers Jenny." I eye up how she is leaning on the counter, a bleary smile on her face.

"You alright, love?" Carla cuts in first, staring at her with elements of worry and distain.

"I am fine thank you, don't you worry about me." She tilts her head to the side, words practically drooling from her gob. Carla pauses for a second, picking up the pencil she had laid in front of her and chewing on it.

"Right." She just nods, patting my shoulder as we decide to make a hasty exit towards the near table. Taking a seat, Carla greets Johnny, who is sat around our side of the bar by the fruit machine, checking over his quiz questions. "How many's she had?"

"Dunno." He just shrugs as we sit down and I shuffle the sheets like it was the factory paperwork. "I'm not her keeper."

"Well you wanna keep an eye on that before it becomes a problem." Carla responds to his grumbles, glancing over at her drunken state. "She's been putting it away a lot recently."

"Oh, and you're one to judge?" He raises an eyebrow defensively and I shoot him a glare, unhappy with how he was taking their apparent domestic issues out on my wife. "I need a brandy." He mutters, getting up and heading behind the bar. Carla exchanges a look with me. Somehow, it didn't feel like it would be a cheery Christmas with The Connors tomorrow.

"Weird..." She ponders, glancing down at the table as if she had forgotten something. "Oh Chelle, will you get me some nuts?"

"Didn't think you were keen on nuts." I comment, but grab my bag all the same, heading back to the bar. "Liz can we have-"

"I'll serve her." Jenny cuts in front rudely, knocking Liz backwards slightly. "Another wine?"

"...No. Still working on the last one, thanks." I pull a face. "Carla wants some nuts."

"Ooh, sick of you now is she?" Jenny grins deliriously and I wince, trying to divert away from her stupid joke. "...You know, because-

"Yeah I get it, Jenny." I cut her off, and Liz pops down a bowl on the bar, clearly hearing my demands. I flash her an appreciative smile, holding out a pound coin.

"Uh, I said I would serve her!" Jenny snaps, her eyes flaring. I go to pick up the bowl but she snatches it back off me, stumbling slightly and spilling half of them on the floor. "Oh no..." She just mutters, disinterestedly. "Liz get the broom."

"Jenny, are you ok?" I ask, knowing there was more to this than just a drunken Christmas celebration. "I think you need to calm it down."

"Uh, you don't run this place anymore, Meesh." Jenny slurs, draining her glass again, before slamming a new bowl down on the counter. "There's your nuts."

"Thanks." I say shortly, deciding not to keep the company much longer and retreating back to my table. "She's leathered. What a state."

"Oi." Carla slaps my hand gently, tucking into her snack. "We've both been there."

"You're seriously defending her?" I arch a brow, scribbling our names down on the top of our quiz sheet. "Is it just us two? We're gonna lose, bad."

"Hey, I know a few things." Carla almost looks offended and I scoff softly, helping myself to her nuts. "Like don't take food off a pregnant lady." She shoots me a glare, but doesn't further object. As the door swings open, Roy enters, Geoff and David instantly calling him to their tables.

"Roy!" Carla shouts, attracting his attention. "Come and be on our team. Please."

"Why do you get Roy?" David shouts, sat with a sour looking Gail and bored Nick, scrolling through his phone.

"I will refuse to be objectified in such a manner." Roy points his tone at David, paying for his orange juice.

"Yeah, he will refuse to be objectified in such a manner." Carla winds David up, childishly, victorious once Roy had taken a seat at our table. "Hi you. Merry Christmas." She leans forwards to pop a kiss on his cheek, to which he flusters over slightly. "Hey, what time are we picking you up tomorrow?"

"...Picking me up?" He questions, confusion written into his expression.

"Yeah, to go to The Bistro." She prompts him, signalling with her hand as if it wasn't obvious. "For Christmas... Family Christmas."

"I was under the impression that I wasn't invited." Roy takes a curt sip of his drink, looking unfazed by the matter.

"What?" Carla exclaims. "Why would you think that?"

"...Well because I wasn't invited." He just says, bluntly, although I knew he meant no sarcastic element to embed his response. "And I'm not family."

"Yes you are!" Carla gives him a playful punch in the arm. "What were you planning on doing all day? Sitting on your tod in that pokey little flat?"

"Well... There is a very interesting documentary set to air following the Queen's speech, about the manufactured consumption of pine trees." He offers and she pulls a face, resisting an eye roll. "But that aside, I have few plans."

"Right well, half ten then?" I chip in, the idea of Roy sat alone thinking after Hayley on Christmas Day was too hard to bear. I nudge Carla gently, "we'll be ready by then, won't we?"

"Are you sure I wouldn't be intruding?" He double checks politely.

"Roy, you're like her dad." I point out. "Of course you wouldn't be intruding."

"Right! Let's start the quiz!" Johnny announces through the microphone and people grab at pencils and paper like their lives depended on it. "Right, first round. Christmas around the globe."

"Ooh, I'll be good at this." Carla decides, her eyes lighting up.

"What makes you think that?" I comment, smirking slightly at her confidence.

"Well I've travelled a lot haven't I?"

"I don't think it's going to be about how much money one person can blow in a casino in Vegas, Carla." I dig at her gently and she scowls in my direction. "But I'm looking forward to you winning this for us then."

"Right, question one." Johnny continues. "In which country is it tradition to decorate their Christmas trees with spider webs?"

"...Come on then, Carla?" I kick her under the table and she glares at me.

"Ukraine." Roy inputs, before she can even formulate an answer.

"Hey!" Carla responds sourly. "I was thinking then."

"Oh yeah." I grin, writing down Roy's answer on the paper.

"Can't you make it a bit easier?" Geoff yells.

"No!" Carla argues. "We're doing well."

"You mean Roy's doing well." Johnny teases her through the microphone and she huffs loudly at how everybody was winding her up. "Right... Question two."


Carla

"If I may be excused." Roy rises and I reach out to tug on his coat.

"Uh! Where are you going?"

"...To the bathroom." He musters awkwardly.

"Well can't you do that in the break?" I beg. "We need you for this."

"I had no idea you were so competitive when it comes to quizzes." Michelle comments when Roy has managed to escape me.

"I'm not." I cross my arms on the table, staring at my third orange juice with distaste. "But it gives me something to think about rather than how much I want a drink."

"Ah, I know." She runs a hand through my hair, smiling sympathetically. "You're doing so well though."

"...Can I smell your wine?" I reach for it before she can answer, breathing in the scent I missed so badly. She rolls her eyes when I dip my little finger in, licking a droplet of red liquid off it. "Ugh..."

"If it's too much for you, we can go?"

"No!" She stops me. "I'm gonna get this next question, bet you."

"Right, round three. Music and film." Johnny cuts over us. "Question number eleven. In the song The Twelve Days Of Christmas, who is said to be 'leaping'?"

"Uh..." I begin to try and go over the song in my head, humming it out loud, which makes Michelle smile to herself.

"Ladies." She decides, going to write it down and I throw a hand over hers.

"Hang on! I'm not sure that's right."

"It is." She insists, convincingly and I think again, I was sure it was ladies that danced, not leapt.

"It's lords! Michelle." I click my fingers when I come to the conclusion, excited that I actually knew the answer to a question without Roy's help. "Lords. Write it down."

"It's ladies." She argues, underlining her answer. "I'm telling ya, it's ladies leaping."

"...I'm sure it's lords leaping." I comment, although I didn't really care enough to argue, taking another nut from my second bowl.

"Why would lords leap?" Michelle exclaims, and I just shrug. And she said I was the one getting too competitive.

"See, they've got ladies leaping too!" Yasmin calls loudly and my head snaps upwards, shooting her a glare as Michelle scrambles to hide our answers, as if her eyesight was good enough to see it from their booth.

"Ey!" I point at her, suddenly defensive. "Stop copying." I warn them for the third time.

"Pipe down love. I'm a DJ." I hear Geoff tell her. "I know my Christmas tunes. It's not ladies leaping. It's swans."

"...Least you're not that stupid." Michelle mutters and I elbow her in the ribs at her dig.

"Question number twelve!" Johnny's voice sounds annoyed and gruff. Glancing up, I see Jenny leaning up against the bar, yet another glass of wine in her hand, Gemma trying to coax her into the back room.

"I don't wanna sit down!" Jenny slurs loudly, plastering a drunk smile on her face. Her head drops to the paper Johnny is reading from, loudly shouting the answer to the next question, "The Titanic!" She tips her head back, stumbling slightly and spilling her wine over the paper. "Hey, I'm good at these-"

"Right! I've had enough!" Johnny suddenly bellows as me and Michelle gawp at the scene playing out. "You're ruining the quiz!"

"Noo... No. I'm just havin' a little drinkyy." Jenny wavers, swaying precariously as Johnny tries to recover the question papers.

"Do you think she might have a problem?" I whisper to Michelle, watching on and deciding it best not to intervene. It seemed Gemma was trying her best to get it under control, leading a drunken Jenny to the other side of the bar.

"Maybe they both have a problem. With each other." Michelle suggests quietly and I glance at her with concern. "Don't look the happiest of couples tonight, do they?"

"Do you think I should try questioning him again?"

"I think you should focus on enjoying Christmas, without stressing yourself out with other people's problems." She tell me and my expression softens, gazing at her.

"We're lucky, aren't we?" I smile softly, my eyes flickering to hers as she just nods sincerely. "Can I have a kiss?"

"No." She narrows her eyes playfully, before leaning in to peck me on the lips. I linger for a moment, my eyes resting closed as I soak up the moment.

"Do that again." I beg, opening my eyes to see how she is staring at me.

"Why?"

"Because you taste like wine." I bite back a smile and she shakes her head, humoured by my excuses and leaning in again. "Mm."

"Uh! None of that mucky business." Johnny's voice snaps us apart and I blush dramatically as everyone stares in our direction. "Hands off my daughter, you." Johnny warns Michelle playfully and she pulls back slightly, as if we were teenagers.

"Roy!" I begin before he can even take a seat back at the table upon his return. "Twelve days of Christmas. What's leaping?"

"Lords." He answers immediately, and I turn on Michelle, letting out a loud laugh.

"Ha!" I point at her, as she rolls her eyes, scribbling her answer out and writing the correct one next to it. "Who's the stupid one now?"


Michelle

"Right so, half ten tomorrow morning." Carla points at Roy as we reach the cafe, the street now dark and the weather crisp.

"I shall be ready, awaiting your arrival." He nods, waving us off as he enters Roy's Rolls. Carla watches for a moment, making sure he was in safe, turning to me once the door is closed.

"So... Christmas film, I've got chocolate and popcorn in, we'll crack open the posh pressé, and have a cuddle on the sofa." I suggest, linking our fingers as we head towards Victoria Court. "Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect." Carla hums, leaning her head on my shoulder as we walk slowly. "Hey..." She stops in her tracks, looking up at the cloudy night sky. "...It's snowing."

"No it's not!" I scoff, but looking up all the same. I feel a cool wetness on my cheek, realising she was in fact right. Again. "Oh..."

"I'm winning tonight." She nudges me gently, holding her hand out as a snowflake lands in it, now falling a little heavier. I study how she gazes into her palm, snow falling to rest in her hair, her elevated cheekbones with a slight rose tint because of the cold weather. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I wished she would see herself the way I did. Sure, she was vain, narcissistic, full-of-herself a lot of the time. But I knew deep down it was all a cover for how much she hated herself as a teenager. Those scars had never properly healed. She still heard the voices of the bullies ripping on her for her dirty nails, her stained uniform, her jagged fringe. That had all been corrected now, but I knew she remembered. I knew she carried so much insecurity with her, amongst the confident image she tried to show off to everyone. "...What?"

I hear Carla murmur, her eyes drawing from her palm to my expression, curious as to what I was thinking about. "You're just so beautiful." I reassure her, taking a step forwards and wrapping my arms around her, adoring the way she smiled softly to herself, her head dipping. "You are." I kiss her forehead as the snow falls around us. "I'm so in love with you."

"I'm so in love with you." She returns, fixing her eyes on mine, holding the moment before brushing a snowflake off my cheek. "Thank you for always showing me what it means to be loved. Sometimes, you were the only one."

"Yeah well. That's never going to change." I whisper, leaning in to kiss her, my hand falling through her hair, snowflakes cool against my skin. "Merry Christmas, baby."


Thanks guys! Reviews would be really appreciated as ever!