Chapter 61: Criminality
Trigger warnings:
Descriptions of attempted rape (PoV 2)
Strong sexual references (PoV 4)
Some homophobic references (PoV 4)
References to misogyny (PoV 4)
References to rape (PoV 4)
Some strong language (PoV 4)
References to death (PoV 4)
Strong descriptions of attack (PoV 4)
Disclaimer: This chapter is rated M for very mature themes and content. Please check the trigger warnings before proceeding.
Carla
"They're kicking! Michelle! The babies are kicking!" I race out of my room as soon as I feel the flutters in my stomach, Michelle spinning around on her chair and running towards me with an excited grin on her face, chestnut curls flying behind her. "Can you feel it?" I ask breathlessly as she pauses, her hand on my bump.
"Yeah... Wow." She murmurs, standing frozen as if any slight movements from us would cease their activity. "You know it's actually more weird feeling it in someone else's body than your own."
"They're really going for it." I giggle, noticing that her gaze has drifted up to mine. I pause, our noses nearly touching as I bite my lip, absorbing the love she was radiating. Her other hand moves to cup my cheek, thumb grazing against my skin, smiling softly as she takes my face in. "What?"
"You're beautiful." She whispers and I swallow, the corners of my mouth turning upwards at her compassion, accepting the soft kiss she plants on my lips. It lasts a moment before she pulls away and I hum a note of reluctance, my eyes settling back on hers.
"Stay here today?" I wind a finger under her chin, tempting her and she sighs, eyes narrowing at my strategy. "I know it's Wednesday but I'll call Sal to cover the factory and I'm sure Kate can manage at the bistro." Michelle's eyes drop suddenly at the conclusion of my sentence and I continue to search for an answer. "We can cuddle up and watch films?"
"I can't." Michelle suddenly pulls away, my body going cold as she goes back over to the kitchen counter. It was as if a cloud had covered the sun - all light fading from her expression, darkened by the surfacing worries that were troubling her. "I've got some business to sort... With Kate."
"Well surely it's not so important that-"
"It is." Michelle cuts me off, trying to keep the sharpness out of her tone. She fashions a smile back on her face, concealing her outburst and my concern grows. "I'm paying her a visit this morning, there's some stuff we need to go over... And you should go to the factory... Didn't you say the Rickson's order needed to go out today?"
"Oh, yeah." The reminder clicks in my head, suddenly frenzied over the deadline. "Ok fine, you win. But please don't be back too late again, I feel like I never see you."
"I'll be back at nine." She promises, looking more settled now that I had relented. Moving forwards a few steps, she takes my hand, a coy smile gracing her expression. "Maybe I'll even cook you dinner."
"Oh wow, the tides are turning." I wind her up, kissing her again before grabbing my jacket. "Right well, I'll see you later then." I slip my leather aviator coat around myself, grasping at my bag and throwing it over my shoulder. After making my way to the door, I lean my head around it, weighing up the cocky look on her face as she leans against the kitchen counter temptingly, "stranger." And I turn on my heel, closing the door behind me and leaving her behind.
Michelle
"I told you I'm busy." Kate orders into the receiver as I hammer the buzzer once more. It was chilly in the early February air, the fur around the collar of my coat struggling to keep my body temperature up.
"And I told you this needs sorting." I hiss into the monitor, peering around me as if we were covering up some kind of murder. "Let me in. You can't hide from this forever."
There's a long pause and I try to decide what my next tactic will be, surprised when I hear the door release. "I haven't got long." Kate just dismisses once I've climbed the stairs to her flat, observing the slight state that the kitchen/lounge area had been left in.
"Well then, you'll want to get to the bottom of this quickly." I make my point, before adding, "just like me."
"'The bottom of this'? It's not Cluedo, Michelle." Kate tuts, pacing around the kitchen. I was no psychologist, but I could tell when somebody was clearly stressed, and there was a prime example right in front of me. "...Brew?" She finally offers to be polite and I just shake my head. "Right so... Before you start going all Nancy Drew on me... I'll tell you exactly what I told Ryan..." She hesitates, swallowing at the admittance, "he tried to... Do what he did... After I signed on the dotted."
"And is that the truth?" I press her and she shoots a look in my direction. "Or are you just getting your story straight?"
"Michelle I wouldn't just hand my business over to some stranger because he threatened to jump on me." Kate dismisses it cruelly, denial written all over her face.
"No." I contemplate, following it up with, "just for fifty grand." Her expression falters and I realise it's leeway for me to continue. "Carla and I gifted you those shares because we trusted you, and we wanted to see you succeed! Ey, we believed in you! And you just chuck them away as soon as someone throws a cheque in your direction?"
"You don't understand-"
"Then help me to understand!" I demand, loudly, causing her body to shake as the room plunges back into silence. I study the tears brimming in her eyes, the tremble of her lip, the shuffle of her feet. "...What is it, Kate?"
Her head tilts upwards finally, eyes meeting mine, before revealing, "...we got arrested." My lack of response is stimulation for her to proceed with the story, as I try to unearth what she was trying to tell me. "In Dubai... Rana and me... They arrested us for being gay." She whispers and my eyes to the floor, a sick feeling churning in my stomach. "I thought nobody was watching so I literally... Kissed her on the cheek in public and the next thing I know we were down the police station... Only it wasn't like here... It was the most terrifying place... Like some kind of murderous head quarters. You know it's punishable by death there? In some cases?" She takes a breath as I try to absorb the information. "They got the embassy involved, Chelle. We were risking prison... So we forked out twenty grand for the best legal advocate... And he managed to negotiate our deportation along with a fine... Of thirty grand."
"So you..." I try to gather the information, flopping down on the sofa as I finally look back at her. "So that's why you needed the money? To pay off your debts?" She nods slowly. "Why didn't you tell me, Kate? We could've helped you out."
"I didn't want to scare you." She admits quietly and I just scoff at her excuse, her gaze fixating on me seriously. "I do all this preaching about how I'm so openly gay and proud and how you should be too. I take you to the gay clubs and make out it's all rainbows and sparkle all the time... But I guess I didn't want to... Worry you about what society can be like... I know you've had your struggles with understanding yourself. And you had the whole thing with the baby. We didn't know what was going on in the hospital when we were detained, Michelle. I really thought Carla was..." She takes a deep breath. "Anyway, when we finally got deported we decided we wouldn't add to your stress."
"...So you just threw me into business with a potential rapist?" I hit her with the facts and all she can do is shrug, apologies written into her expression.
"I was drunk and I panicked." She sighs, allowing her head to fall into her hands as she leans forward on the counter. "And obviously when I signed on the dotted, I didn't know he was like that... I thought he was just a keen businessman who knew what he was doing. Anyway then he tried it on and... I obviously said no... But men like him they don't understand the word. So he pinned me to the sofa and tried to... He was pulling at my clothes so harshly I..." She swallows, her eyes fluttering closed at the memories. "Let's just say I'm glad I took those self-defence classes in Spain. Dad always said 'touch wood you'll never need them'."
I stare off into space, trying to push the images out of my mind, hating the way I had handled this whole situation, but hating him more. I despised men like him. Men who had to have control. Who thought they could have anything at the clench of a fist and the wave of a cheque. He'd turned Kate into a shaking, anxious mess. It was a state I had never seen her in before. He was a monster. "...I'm sorry, Kate." I finally whisper, my voice hoarse now. "For flying off the handle... I didn't realise everything had been so... Traumatic for you recently."
"I'm sorry." She responds sincerely. "Like you said, you trusted me with that business. I was over the moon... If I could go back in time..."
"There's no point in wishing for time travel." I take a step towards her reassuringly. "Carla always says to me 'regrets are pointless', apparently it's something Nick used to say to her." There's a hesitation as I think over everything she's told me. "You're in the clear now, right? No further trouble?"
"Yeah it's all sorted." She nods, relaxing slightly at my understanding attitude. Her head tilts apologetically as she reads my expression, finally asking, "so I guess the real question is... What are you going to do?"
Carla
I root through the stacks of paperwork, feeling Sarah's eyes burning through the side of my face as I search desperately for the file I was after. The office was a state. How I used to cope running this place solely by myself, I didn't know. "Beth?" I suddenly yell, despite the office door being closed, and Sarah takes the cue to rise and beckon her in. "Where's Kirk?" I ask in a less than friendly tone, noticing how he wasn't out on the shop floor.
"Oh uh, food poisoning... He's had to take the day off." Beth informs me with the usual twinge of a whine to her tone that drives me up the wall.
"Are you having me on?" I drop the files, staring at her in shock, hands now placed firmly on hips. "The Rickson order needs to go out in fifteen minutes! Kirk's our only driver! How am I supposed to make this work?"
"Uh..." Beth just sways in the doorway cluelessly. "Sorry Mrs Connor... But he is really sick. It was our anniversary yesterday so I tried making sushi... He must have had a bad prawn. We were in the chippy after five minutes though so he can't have eaten that much-"
"Right ok, spare me the details Beth." I roll my eyes, waving my hand and dismissing her.
"Want me to see if I can get an agency driver to shift it?" Sarah offers and I drop my head into my hands.
"No it won't be there in time. That could take hours." I rack my brains trying to think, my stress disturbed by a rap on the door. "Vicky, yes?" It's evident I'm not in the mood for small talk and she takes a step backwards at my defensive attitude.
"Oh I was just gonna say... The girls told me I have to learn how to do the cake run... I was gonna ask if you want anything?" Her eyes fall momentarily to my stomach and despite my craving for cream cake right now, I just shake my head. "Ok... Is everything alright?"
"Yeah it's just... Kirk leaving us in the lurch." I open up to her. "I've got nobody to drive this order to Rickson's."
"...Well, I can do it?" Vicky suggests and my head snaps upwards, eyes meeting hers. "I've done delivery driving before, how hard can it be shifting a few boxes to Oldham?"
"Oh you star!" I clap my hands suddenly, resisting the urge to hug her, my eyes drifting down to the safe. "Ah, you know what, Sarah will you get the spare van keys out the safe? There's no way I'm bending down there and getting back up again."
"Yep." She flashes me a knowing smile, crouching down to do just that, and I turn back to Vicky brightly.
"Uh, what am I supposed to say when I get there?"
"You know what, I'll come with yer." I decide, as Sarah passes me over the keys, dropping her gaze suspiciously at my suggestion. "Well I'd like to speak to Nigel. Hey, last time he saw Michelle he said she'd put on weight over Christmas. I'll give him a piece of my mind."
"...Who's Nigel?" Vicky asks cautiously, although there was a glint in her eye at the prospect of going on a road trip.
"Nigel Rickson." Sarah spells it out for her, Vicky's thoughts catching up with the word, my PA turning back to me now in a fluster. "But how long are you going to be gone because they'll run circles around me if I'm in charge on my own."
"So, don't let them." I arch an eyebrow at Sarah teasingly before jingling the keys, prompting Vicky to head out of the office.
"You're not all bad." Vicky comments once we are belted up ready to go, pulling out of the loading bay. "A few of them warned me you could be a right cow."
"Ha! Rat them out, go on. They'll be sacked in the morning." I joke and she lets out a light laugh, glancing at the sat nav. I gaze across at her for a moment; the way her dark hair was so perfectly curled, the soft blush of her cheeks. And yet I could tell, I could always tell when somebody was like me. She had been through stuff. She was a survivor. "So come on then, why Weatherfield?"
"D'ya want the long or short version?" She puffs her cheeks out slightly at the thought and I take a look at the sat nav.
"Well we have thirty seven minutes." I point out the ETA. "So I guess it depends how long the long version actually is."
"Haha." She narrows her eyes at me playfully, turning back to the winding road ahead of her. "Well I moved over from Ireland before my son, Tyler was born. He's sixteen now. But his dad, Jed left me when he was seven... For a glamour model, so it happens."
"Pfft, men." I shake my head at her sympathetically.
"Anyway, that left me claiming benefits. I went through jobs like they were biscuits, you know, not a lot out there for a single mum. Nothing to keep us financially secure anyway." Vicky continues to explain. "So I claimed a flat on this estate, Brightwell, it were called. The other side of Weatherfield." I smile to myself slightly and her eyes dart across to me, looking mildly offended. "Yeah I know it's practically a scrap heap but it's the best I could get."
"No it's not that..." I laugh slightly, looking back at her. "I grew up on that estate. Trust me, I'm not judging."
"...Oh wow." She eyes me up and down momentarily when we hit the traffic lights. "Did not see that coming."
"Oh yeah, all of this came from nowt." I assure her, waving a hand up and down myself. "Look I don't tell a lot of people this but the lippy and perfume, it's all just a facade for the scruffy little girl on the estate."
"I'm honoured." Vicky looks ahead again, pulling away once the lights turn green and we sit in a comfortable silence for a moment. Truth be told, I was missing having any kind of real interaction with people at the moment. I hardly ever saw Michelle, and I'd barely had a chance to see my family as everything was so manic at Underworld since Michelle had taken a step back. I couldn't help enjoying the hint of flirtation that bounced off our conversation. Harmless, of course. But welcome all the same. "So... Your wife is quite a fiery one, eh?"
"Huh?" My brow furrows suddenly at her question, surprised that anybody had so openly made that judgement about me. "I didn't think Michelle had been around Underworld much lately."
"No, she owns the restaurant across the way, right?" She grins slightly at what seems to be some sort of memory. "Ran into her the other week. She mentioned you."
"Pfft, you've probably seen more of her than me recently." I shrug it off, eyes drifting to my lap. "She's flamin' obsessed with that bistro."
"Yeah I know, apparently the place is too good to hire my son." She digs and I just arch a brow in questioning. "He went looking for a pot wash job, just anything that'll give him some experience, you know? Anyway, she shot him down." She just mutters, making it clear to me that this collision had resulted in a altercation between the two women. "I just need someone to give him a chance... So he's got something under his belt alongside his... Criminal record."
"Ah, like that, is it?" I nod in understanding, now realising why Michelle might have been hesitant. I notice Vicky grit her teeth slightly at my response, clearly still convinced I was judging her. "My brother got banged up young and all... Armed robbery. He got eight years. Got released and wound up with Tracy Barlow."
"...Amy Barlow's mum?" She shivers slightly at the reference and I just nod, slightly confused but deciding not to question it. "Yeah I've had some crossed wires with her and all."
I scoff gently, before admitting, "who hasn't?"
"What happened between them then? Was it a match made in hell?" She asks and I have to gage what she is getting at, before she prompts me. "Her and your brother?"
"Oh!" I nod slowly, hesitating before revealing, "no he's back in prison." Vicky's eyes go wide even before I can add, "for murder."
"Wow... Don't mess with him..." Vicky trails off, hesitating before asking, "you still speak to him?"
"Nope." I fashion a forced smile at the response. "He cut all contact when he was sent down... I mean, I was the one who dobbed him in, so." It falls silent for a moment and I worry that I have knocked the atmosphere down a few pegs.
"You ever meet Greta?" She finally asks, a slight smile on her cheeks now. "From the estate? The dealer who sits on staircase B?"
"She's not still going?" My mouth drops open and Vicky shrugs. "She was knocking on when I was a teenager!"
"Yeah well, she was still up to her old tricks when Tyler and I left the place." She chuckles to herself, which I find rather contagious. There was something about this woman that I related to. Granted, it was public knowledge that I had never been very good at friends, and those I had made, I usually fell in love with. So maybe this was a new leaf. Maybe I could really make a friend in Vicky Jefferies.
Michelle
The sound of my footsteps on the hardwood floor eerily echo throughout the bistro. The place was deserted, and yet the door was wide open. Running a finger along the bar, I notice it has been wiped spotless, checklist completed upon the worktop, laying my phone and keys down next to it. "Where is everyone?" I demand, once Ray appears from the office, rubbing his hands together like a greedy child. "It's only twenty to nine."
"What can I say, it's been a quiet evening." Ray preens as if it was an achievement.
"Ah... New management putting people off, is it?" I narrow my eyes bravely. "Not many people want to eat their dinner under the same roof as a rapist."
I say the word so viciously that I almost see him flinch, his eyes intensely burning into mine, daring me to try my luck. "Who've you been whispering in corners with, ey?" He just smacks his lips together, pressing a hand down on the nearby table and leaning against it cockily.
"Oh, more than one, are there?" I catch him off guard, folding my arms defensively and he has the audacity to admit a quiet scoff at my accusation. "Kate's told me everything. Properly, this time."
"Ah, I bet she has." He nods, a sick smirk cursing his cheeks.
"Not even gonna deny it?"
"Deny what? That I tried it on with her?" He simplifies and I shake my head in disbelief at his impertinence. "Is it illegal to make a move on a woman nowadays?"
"It wasn't just 'a move', and you knew she's gay." My tone is thick with detestation, disgust clearly displayed on my face. "She's got a fiancée. In what world did you think she'd be up for it?"
He just shrugs, still not removing the wicked snigger from his face. "You can't know until you try."
"Yeah... And you tried." I nod, daring to take a step forwards menacingly. "You tried and when she knocked you back, you tried again. Only this time, it was more forceful."
"Ooh, I've said it before and I'll say it again..." Ray hangs off the sentence, as if taunting me. "Somebody's fantasising..."
"Excuse me?" I try not to show the shock in my face. "What do you mean, 'fantasising'?"
"I bet you used to love it rough, didn't you?" He takes a step forwards now, his tongue lingering between his teeth, urging himself to wind me up further. "I bet the men used to make you cry out. Just role-playing the exact scenarios you're describing to me. I only met Robert once or twice but he seemed like the 'I'll handcuff you to the bed' type. Shame he's not around anymore so you can't pop over for a-"
"Shut up." I warn him, sickness swimming in the pit of my stomach, hating the fact that I had riled him up on my frustration. I was close to tears just at his words, but then a part of me wanted to kill him. I'd witnessed a lot of men say a lot of sick things to me in my life, but this really topped them all. "You don't get the right to speak to me like that."
"Ok, I'm sorry." He lacks an apologetic tone, a glint in his eye as he prepares to land his next move. "...Only my nephew tells me you like being tied up."
My blood runs cold. My heart thumps in my chest. My eyes don't move from his. So intense that I could make out every vein in his sclera. "...Who's your nephew?"
"Ah, I don't get to see him a lot. When he was released he jetted off to Spain." Ray shrugs, challengingly. "But when I mentioned I'd gone into business with you... It seemed me and Will had a common acquaintance."
I swallow against the lump in my throat, fighting the ache at even pronouncing his name, "your nephew is Will Chatterton?"
"Bingo! A sharp and agile mind." He clicks his fingers, grinning smugly at the revelation. Part of me is desperate to run, to escape from this abominable atmosphere I was trapped in, to run back to Carla and have her hold me, tell me I was safe. But I'd had enough of this. I'd had enough of men speaking for me, pushing me around, terrifying me to my very core. Sonny, Steve, Will, Robert, Phelan, Ray. Granted, some were worse than others, a lot worse. And one of them was standing in front of me now.
Before my brain can even catch up with my actions, I have grabbed at a fork from the table next to me, charging at him and aiming it at his neck. I feel the collision, but it does little damage before he screams out in anger, grabbing my wrist and fiercely tugging it away from his flesh. "Oh that was the wrong thing to do." I feel Ray's breath hot on my cheek as he jerks my hair back, spit practically flying with every word he hisses at me. "That was a big mistake."
I scream suddenly as I am flung back into the office, my back hitting the wall with such a force that I have to gasp for breath. A searing pain bolts through my head. My vision blurring as I try to focus on where he is moving towards me. "I'm sorry." I suddenly blurt out, as if awakened to my vulnerability. I could feel my PTSD building, a panic attack desperate to erupt. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." I hate myself for begging him, but I knew what was to come next. Carla's horror stories had been enough to terrify me for life. Now I was living the real thing. A hand presses against my chest, excruciatingly and brutally enforcing my fight for breath.
And then suddenly the weight pulls back, my whole body going light as I sink down the wall. I force my vision to focus, staring up at his powerful stance. There's a deep silence, a painful one, as I wait for what was to come next.
But then he turns.
The door slams.
And I hear the lock click.
Carla
I'll be back at nine. Maybe I'll even cook you dinner.
The tick of the clock drills into my thoughts. It would be pointless to cry. I'd be wasting my tears and energy. Five months pregnant and I felt completely alone. After Michelle once cried in my arms about how she wanted us to have a baby.
The clock strikes eleven again, as it did every night, and still, there was no swing of the door, no heels being kicked off or kisses being plastered into my neck. I'd believed her, again. And I'd been let down, again.
My phone beeps suddenly and it hurls me from my thoughts, my eyes dropping to the bright screen.
Text Message
From: Michelle
I've had to go away for a few days on an emergency business conference. I'll be back on Saturday. Love you, M xx
It's as if all sanity and hope was draining from my body. Immediately, I felt exhausted. I felt sad, so sad and I just wanted Michelle to hold me. After everything, to tell me by text. Again, prioritising work over her wife and the twins. She was beginning to feel like a stranger. Maybe I had been right this morning in calling her that.
My eyelids grow heavy and fatigue sweeps over me. Weighted with disappointment, I pull myself from the kitchen stool, making my way into the bedroom to spend another night alone.
Michelle
"Help!" I scream for what feels like the millionth time, unsure whether it were the walls trembling or my vision. I smack my fist against the door again and again, wincing in pain as the bruised flesh continues to collide with the wood. I was thirsty. I was tired. I was terrified. "Help me please!"
My whole right side felt fractured after trying repeatedly to bust the door open with all my strength. Something was wedging it closed, alongside the tight lock on the door. Tears spill from my eyes as I fall to the floor weakly, sobbing like a hopeless child. I was; hopeless. I'd brought it on myself. By thinking I could ever take down a monster single-handedly.
The room was nearly pitch black, my eyes having adjusted to the darkness and therefore able to make out the vague silhouettes of a desk, a chair, a stack of paperwork.
Crawling towards the desk drawer, I tug it open with my limp arm, nothing but a whiskey bottle rolling around inside. Robert's whiskey bottle. I remembered the nights we would close up and sit in the office, toasting to another successful day, passionately falling upon the desk amongst a flurry of kisses. It had felt so warm once upon a time. And now I was nothing but frozen.
"...Help." I just whimper now, barely even audible for myself let alone any passersby. Drawing the bottle from the drawer, I twist off the cap, raising it to my lips and taking a sharp gulp of the fiery liquid.
Maybe Ray would be along any second, laughing at how he had scared me.
Or maybe he'd leave me here to rot.
Two opposite sides of the equation, with no idea what the answer was.
