Chapter 63: Freedom
Trigger warnings:
! Detailed discussions of rape and violence throughout !
Mild homophobia in the last PoV
Carla
"Do you want a coffee or..." Kate offers quietly, noticing how my legs were relentlessly shaking up and down, hands clasped in my lap.
"I can't drink caffeine." I just respond, noticing the furrow of her brow, "the midwife says that in my current condition it's best to avoid it at all costs."
"Right..." Kate just nods, her eyes scanning the corridor, guilt contorting her features. "I've called Ali... He's bringing Ryan now."
"She only just recovered from last time, Kate." I voice my concern, finally looking at her. "It was Will, then the Bistro siege, her PTSD with that dodgy client, then when she went missing... And she just recovered... Now this." I hesitate, swallowing before admitting, "you know I always thought it was me... Back in the day, I always thought it was me that the bad things happened to and she was always there to support me through it... And I preferred it that way. Even when we were kids. I was glad that I was the one suffering, that I was the one being abused by my step-dad, going hungry every night or lying frozen in my bed... Because I'd much rather it happen to me. I've always thought she's too good, too innocent and pure for these things to happen to. And when she fell pregnant with Ryan it hit me that I can't always take the fall for her, you know? As much as I want to try. And that's why I gave myself up to Phelan in her place. Because I would... I will... I'd suffer for a million years if it meant protecting her... People think I'm a selfish cow and maybe I am... Until it comes to Michelle. The only person who never left me despite everything. The only one. And the times I shut her out, when I said I didn't need her or, I don't know, I prioritised whatever man I was with. It always came down to wanting to protect her. I didn't want her to see the dark side. I didn't want to put her at risk or make her unhappy. And now, crazy enough, we're closer than ever and yet... I feel like I have less control over that than I ever have."
"...You can only be responsible for yourself, nobody else, Carla." Kate whispers, taking my hand and clasping it tight. "No matter how much they mean to you."
"So much has happened since she's been with me..." I finally conclude my worries, tears forming in my eyes as I look to her for reassurance. But I was unsure that there was anything she could say that would erase the guilt I had forced on myself. "So much happens to anyone who's with me... It's like a curse... What if I'm the one putting her in danger? What if I'm the one making her miserable?"
"Right, and how?" Kate firmly plants her eyes on mine, a hand slipping to my shoulder as she tries to invade my cloud of doubt. "How are you responsible for any of those things happening? How are you responsible for this? Hey? There's only one person who locked her in that office, Carla. He's to blame. He's gonna get what's coming to him." I hear her out, nodding defiantly at the determination in her voice. We share a moment, before it is interrupted.
"Carla Connor?" A nurse approaches me and I stand immediately, heart pounding in my chest. "We've examined your wife, there seems to be no serious injuries. There's some bruising to her wrists and neck, that's about the extent of it."
"...Wrist and neck?" I ask slowly, despite already seeing it for myself. "What did he... What does that mean?"
"We're unsure of the details at the moment." She tries to offer a warm smile, before disclosing, "she's in a comfort room at the moment, talking to a nightingale trained officer."
"...Nightingale?" My thoughts suddenly click sickeningly at the word, my head jolting upwards, eyes burning against hers. I feel a wave of nausea wash over me, memories flooding back through my mind, freezing me in position. "No... No, no. She hasn't... Oh my God."
"What?" Kate turns to me anxiously, placing a hand on my back as the nurse retreats back to the room she came from. "Carla? What is it?"
"I'm gonna be sick." I suddenly blurt out, before pouring all my emotions out onto the floor. It wasn't much of a warning, and Kate stares at the scene in shock and confusion, hesitant on what to do next. I heave again, the bitter tasting liquid leaving my mouth along with a pained cry. I wait until I can manage to compose myself, taking a few steps away from the mess I had made and turning to look at Kate, eyes blood-shot, face pale. "...A nightingale officer... That's one trained to deal with cases of rape, Kate."
Her face drops, colour draining from her skin, guilt once again clouding her expression. A hand flies over her mouth, shaking her head in denial. "Oh God... It's all my fault."
I'm about to try and force something out of my mouth that can comfort her, before the double doors swing open and my pair of step-sons come pacing down the corridor. Ali reads our expressions, daring to ask, "what's going on? Where is she?"
"...Talking to a nightingale officer." Is all I have to say to Ali, literally seeing the realisation clicking in his face as he takes a step backwards, dropping his head into my hands. Ryan looks confused, but can tell he needed to be concerned, his whole body shivering at the thought of what could have happened.
"I'll kill him." Ali suddenly warns, the severity of his tone scaring us all. Turning on his heel and starting back up the corridor, shouting again for good measure, "I will kill him."
"Ali, no!" Kate pulls him back suddenly, clutching the side of his face in desperation. "Let the police sort it. Please." She begs him, his expression not relenting. "He's not worth it, trust me. He tried to do the same to me."
"He what?" Ali's voice grows angrier now, but his fury turns towards Kate. "And you didn't tell anyone? We could have avoided all of this!"
"Ali!" I snap, not daring to move from where I was stood out of fear of backlash.
"Dude, calm down." Ryan tries to ease him away and Ali turns on his sharply.
"Dude? This isn't a 'dude' situation, Ryan." Ali shouts fiercely. "Our mam's been locked up and raped by that monster!"
"...Raped?" Ryan says the word so bitterly, turning to me in shock.
"...We don't know that." I try to search for some kind of hope, against all the odds. "We all need to stop jumping to conclusions." It was hypocritical for me to say, when all that was racing through my mind was the ultimate fear, but if somebody didn't calm the group down we were going to end up in an even more perilous situation that we already were in. "Michelle needs us to be calm right now. I'm sure she's raging at the world enough herself, she doesn't need us joining in an' all."
Michelle
I fiddle with the tassels on the jogging bottoms the clinic had given me. They said they only had a size up, but I didn't mind, I actually preferred them oversized. DC Mason gets up to leave after we have exchanged goodbyes, glancing at me with a look that lacked conviction. I was beginning to feel like a doll in a doll's house. Stuck in the room I was put in, the occasional person stopping to check in on me, question me. At this point, that was how I felt. Like a doll. A doll that had been thrown around and controlled and played with until her hair was tangled and her cheeks were grubby. And yet, a sense of calm had settled around me since I was brought in here. It was like I just didn't care. The complete opposite to what the symptoms of my PTSD would usually scream in this kind of situation.
I'd been grilled about it of course; 'you're on medication for this, you have experiences of that'. I nodded, and didn't say a lot. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk about it. It was honestly that I lacked the care to. Maybe I had been pushed so far over the emotional brink that I actually didn't feel anything anymore. Like I was numb to panic or sorrow. But either way, it was weirdly alleviating.
"...Hi." Carla knocks on the door gently and I just offer a smile, my eyes following as she takes a seat next to me. She doesn't dive over to hug me, as much as I could tell she wanted to. She doesn't pour out apologies or sympathy or guilt. I knew why. She had probably been warned not to. Either that or she could remember from her own experiences. "Chelle... How are you feeling?"
"Okay, yeah." I respond, more brightly than I'd even anticipated and it causes her expression to falter, her brow furrowing as if she had imagined the reaction. "Starving though, you'd think when I tell them I've been locked in a room with hardly any food for nearly two days, that they'd at least offer me a chocolate bar." I try to lighten the situation and she just fumbles for words, unsure whether she was relieved of concerned at how I was acting. "How are you?"
"Um..." She pauses, unsure whether to disclose the truth. "Extremely worried, Michelle... About you."
"Well I'm fine now." I reach for her hand, clasping it in mine and feeling the coolness of her flesh. Her eyes lift to mine again, searching as if she had lost me. "It's over."
"Yeah but..." She hesitates, not wanting to push me. "...What he did to you... That's not... I mean... What you've been through..."
"Once I was tied up and locked in the boot of a car for twenty four hours." I remind her and she shivers at the thought. "At least this time I had space to do my daily exercises."
Carla doesn't smile at my joke, in fact, she looks progressively more disorientated at my words. "...Did he rape you?"
"No." I answer instantly and firmly, to the same question I had now been asked four times throughout the night. There is a certain boldness to my tone and my lack of hesitation clearly triggers some curiosity in her mind. "He didn't." I confirm and she looks slightly relieved. "...He did give me an ultimatum... Well, a threat, a bribe, whatever you want to call it."
"...Which was?"
"Which was that if I had sex with him, he'd let me go." I say bluntly. "And I didn't." Perhaps my lack of filter stemmed from how I had been constantly questioned now for hours, and so didn't have the time to tiptoe around obvious answers. Maybe it was because I hadn't slept since I could remember, and I was just at the end of my tether with elongated explanation. Or maybe it was some kind of defence mechanism. Right now, I didn't know. I was tired, I was hungry, I was bored.
Bored. After everything, I felt bored. The time I had spent locked in that office, crying for help, fearing that my life could be nearing it's end, I'd longed for some normality. And now, I was bored. Then again, any of this was far from normal. The bright blue wallpaper, decorated with evenly dispersed cartoon clouds that lined the 'comfort room' was sickeningly soothing. The squashy green sofas and the quiet mumble of the wall mounted television, playing some irrelevant game show, made it feel like the sole purpose was to distract me. In ways, it almost felt like a children's ward. Was that the aim? So that the women who spent their hours in here, reeling from their ordeal, felt like they had a fraction of their innocence back? That they would cast their eyes over the clouds and think "there is hope"? It seemed like a rather superficial attempt at 'comfort' to me.
"...So he didn't." Carla clarifies finally and I just nod in response, squeezing her hand in confirmation. "But the marks... On your neck."
"I've just been pressed for an hour by police, Carla. I don't need you doing it and all." I suddenly snap with more force than intended, and she looks taken-aback at my change in attitude despite the circumstance. I soften my voice again, trying to compose myself. "I need you to talk to me about normal stuff. How was work? How are the babies?" I smile, placing my other hand on her bump and feeling a sensation of longing overcome me. "Are they behaving themselves?"
"Yes." Carla chooses to respect my wishes, lacing her fingers over mine. "They're absolutely fine..." She lifts my chin gently, meeting my gaze and promising, "Everything's going to be absolutely fine."
Carla
"I bet you're knackered," I comment as I finally follow Michelle through the flat door, feeling the exhaustion myself. "Why don't you go and get your head down?"
"No... It's okay." Michelle offers me a smile, laying her hands flat on the kitchen surface. "I've hardly run a marathon, have I? Quite the opposite."
I refrain from asking her whether she thought it might be because of any nightmares that might occur, knowing full-well myself the sleepless nights that followed a trauma. "Can I get you something to eat then?"
"Uh, have you forgotten that you're pregnant?" Michelle arches a brow, a slight sassiness to her tone. "I should be the one fussing over you."
She turns to grab the loaf of bread from the toaster and I narrow my eyes at her optimism. A few months ago, the wrong look from a client could trigger a panic attack. Now, under much more traumatic circumstances, it didn't seem like she was batting an eyelid. I wasn't convinced, but I also didn't want to beat her mood down by trying to drag it out of her. She was right, she had spent all night talking to officers and nurses. Now, she probably wanted some normality.
"What's this?" She pipes up and my eyes move to where she is pointing at the calendar on the wall. I had never been one for such organisation. To be honest, I'd never had much to jot down and remember apart from 'drink in The Rovers' or 'argument with Peter', so until Maria gave me a 'family calendar' for my Christmas present, it was never something that tended to decorate my flat. But I knew exactly what she was referring to, and I hadn't expected her to be in such a state to pick up on it so fast. "You have an appointment this afternoon."
"Yeah I'm gonna call and cancel." I dismiss and she turns to me, horrified at the prospect.
"No you're not!" Her voice is more demanding than maybe she expected. "You're supposed to have weekly check-ups, Carla! Do you realise how serious this condition could get? We need to follow all the guidance!"
"Okay, okay!" I try to calm her down, keeping my voice as gentle as possible. "Well I'll just reschedule for tomorrow-"
"No! Carla!" She shouts and I just pause, taken-aback at the change in her attitude. "This is your priority, okay? Them. Not me. If they'd have told me their was a way to improve Ruairi's chances I'd have done it in a heartbeat."
"Alright." I murmur, a sharp contrast to her booming tone, nodding slowly. "Yeah I'll go... I'll call Ryan to come over or something."
"I don't need a babysitter." She snaps again and I just purse my lips, trying to keep my temper at bay. "I'll be fine, just go. But make sure you get a cab. I don't want you driving."
"Well David offered to take me." I respond bluntly and her brow immediately furrows.
"David Platt?"
"No, David Attenborough." I dare to joke, but she doesn't seem to see the funny side. "Yeah... He said he's going to visit Shona, offered me a lift when I caught him in Dev's yesterday."
"I didn't know you were so close." She just simpers, as if she were almost jealous. "Anyway, you'll be late if you don't go now."
"...Are you sure?" I stupidly ask, and her expression answers for me. I hesitantly get up, approaching her like a wild animal, and closing the gap between us. "Can I?" I ask, raising my hand just next to her hair and she furrows her brow as if it was a stupid question. But I didn't want to risk anything right now. I'd rather her be mad that I checked than mad that I didn't. I weave my hand through her hair, planting a soft kiss on her lips and I notice it erase some of the anger and frustration once I have pulled back. "I won't be long. Get some rest."
Michelle
I was waiting for somebody to come and hammer the door down for how loud the television was, perhaps Nick, insistent that Oliver was napping or Mrs. Graverson the little old lady above us who had impeccable hearing. But I needed it at volume sixty to drown out my thoughts. Granted, I wasn't remotely interested in the wildlife documentary where the Jerboa mouse was being chased by a horned desert viper (alright, maybe I had absorbed a little information), but mostly, I was staring into space, trying to keep any emotion at bay.
The buzzer rings sharply and I jump in my seat, my heart immediately pounding. I hadn't expected visitors, or at least, nobody from outside the building.
Swallowing my nerve, I pull myself from the sofa, taking a moment to compose myself before daring to lift the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"Michelle it's Maria." She responds, her voice slightly crackled and I sigh reluctantly. I didn't have the heart to send her packing, not when I knew she was only here to help. Instead, I press my finger against the key button, releasing the door and popping the phone back in its place. "Flippin' heck Chelle, how loud do you want that telly?" Maria asks upon entry, wincing at the sound and I search for the remote, promptly clicking it off and drowning the room in silence once more. "I'm surprised Leanne hasn't come storming up here all guns blazing."
"...Hello." I try to keep the sarcasm out of my voice but it's still slightly apparent.
"Oh sorry... God, how are you?" She starts fussing, dumping her bag on the floor and pausing in debate before deciding to give me a rather cautious hug. It doesn't really comfort me, instead, it once again makes me feel like a china doll that could break if touched. "Ali told me what happened... Have they arrested him?"
"Yep." I nod, reciting the blunt but reassuring information they had given me upon my discharge from the clinic. "He's being questioned now. Knowing him he'll probably worm his way out of it."
"Surely not, not with something like this." Maria tuts, shaking her head disapprovingly. "I mean there'll be evidence all over the place. Surely there'll be your... Waste and stuff around to-"
"Right okay Maria." I cut her off sharply, my cheeks flushing dramatically at how direct she was being. "I don't want to relive it thank you."
"Yeah, sorry." Her eyes clock my neck once I move my hand beneath the polo neck to scratch the marks, forgetting for a moment they were there. "...What's he done to you?"
"Just... Threw his power around a bit." I shrug it off but her eyes widen.
"He did that?" She points a finger at my neck and I hide my urge to flinch at her sudden movement. "Michelle... He didn't..."
"No!" I resist an eye roll, sick of hearing the same question over and over again. It made my stomach flip horribly and my heart pound faster. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want anybody else to either. "Look with all due respect I'm kind of tired..."
"Yeah..." Maria nods understandingly, taking the hint. "Well I just brought you this." She hands me a tub of posh bubble bath from her bag. "I thought everyone does flowers, don't they? It's kind of a cheap gesture under such circumstances. Least this way you can have a soak, try and relax a bit."
"Thanks..." I smile appreciatively, touched at her thought and popping the tub down on the counter.
"Right I'll get off... You know where I am if you need me."
"Sure do." I force a bright tone, not moving and so prompting her to open the door herself.
"Oh hello..." Maria mumbles once she has opened it, and I peer around her to see Vicky on the doorstep, holding a bunch of thirsty looking flowers in her hand. "Were you expecting visitors?" Maria turns to me.
"No but... She can come in." I offer Vicky a smile as they switch places, Maria giving me an awkward wave before leaving. "Hi."
"Hi." Vicky says shortly, stuck for conversation before offering the flowers to me. "I didn't really know whether flowers were appropriate... I mean, it's not really a sympathy or congratulations kind of moment."
"Maybe it's both." I dare to make a joke. "'Sorry you got locked up but congratulations you're still alive'."
"Yeah..." Vicky smiles at my humour as I take them from her. "Either way, they're not up to much. I thought I'd settle for a cheap bunch from Dev's in case you threw them back at me, you know. That would be a waste of thirty quid in Tracy's shop, if she even let me in."
"...I appreciate the sentiment." I lace my tone with sarcasm, holding back a laugh at her honesty. "I mean, really it should be me giving you flowers... You could have saved my life."
"Not keen on flowers." Vicky shrugs. "I prefer chocolates... I was gonna get you a box of them and all but you don't really seem like the chocolate eating kinda woman."
I don't respond to her comment, just turn to fill a vase. I ponder a thought that has been weighing on my mind, keeping my back turned as I ask, "why were you in the bistro?"
"Carla gave me her set of keys." Vicky informs me, although it wasn't really a response to my question. She picks up on this, avoiding my gaze as I turn back to her, assembling the deep red carnations into a display. "...Truth be told I was headed back from my delivery and I thought I'd pop in and see you again... Or anybody really... Try and plead Tyler's case once more. Only I found it closed so... I don't know, I thought it was weird. I shouldn't have, I'm sorry."
"What were you gonna do?" I arch a brow. "Write his name on the rota and hope I'd never notice."
"No, I guess I thought maybe you'd have shut up shop early and it might give me an opportunity to talk to you in private." Vicky admits. "See if you'd reconsider."
I nod slowly, choosing to believe her words since she had in fact released me from hell. She could have compromised with me there and then, but instead, she had left it a day. Weirdly, I respected that. "Well consider it... Reconsidered." I sigh brightly, my eyes moving back to hers after placing the vase pride of place on the kitchen counter. "It's the least I can do after everything."
"...Really?" Vicky's eyes narrow almost suspiciously.
"Do you want me to change my mind?" I prompt her and she shakes her head quickly. "Tell him he can start on Monday."
She hesitates, trying to absorb the new apparent friendship that was building between us, before asking, "are you sure you'll be up to opening on Monday? I heard Ray was arrested."
"Yeah he was... So I guess that's all the more reason, hey?" I try to keep my voice bright, forcing a smile. "Least he won't be there under my feet or... Sexually assaulting any of the staff."
I know what is coming next before she broaches it, and I try to busy myself in preparation, averting my eyes. "Seriously... Are you okay? I mean... I'm tough as nails but I reckon if I'd been through what you have... I'd be in a pooper for a few days. You seem... Weirdly okay. Don't you have PTSD?"
"Mm, wow you've lived here five minutes and already my mental health is on the factory girls' lips, ey?" I try to keep the annoyance from my tone, continuing to avoid her gaze as I organise the magazines that were strewn out on the counter. "Yeah well, I've had my share of breakdowns. Maybe I'm just exhausted from the wallowing. I'd rather shut it out. If I dwell on it, I'll get all panicky like I usually do."
"...But you are going to testify?"
"Look Vicky, I'm really grateful for everything you've done." I cut her off suddenly, a hint of frustration and anger in my tone. "But you've done your bit now, ok? I don't need another counsellor. With all due respect, this isn't your problem anymore."
"...Well it will be if you need me to stand as a witness." She dares to point out and I just close my eyes, trying to settle the storm of thoughts and memories swirling around my mind.
"And I will call you if I do." I just grit my teeth rudely. "But until then, I'm sorry, things will have to go back to being as boring as they were for you before."
I hear her feet shuffle, my head still dipped as she just responds with, "right well... Take care of yourself then." I hear the door close and immediately I am up against it, slamming the latch closed and double locking it into place. Then I'm falling, falling into a crumpled heap on the floor as I begin to sob endlessly into the silence.
Carla
I found that there was very little in common with David and I, as we sit in near silence on the way back, with just an old Dolly Parton CD humming in the player. He had insisted it was Gail's, but from the way he was merrily tapping his hand on the steering wheel, I had a feeling that was a blatant lie. Still, I hadn't complained when he pulled it out from down the side of the seat, alongside a McDonalds drink lid and a very old mint imperial that he said had survived since Bethany was given them to suck on as a child on long car journeys to keep her quiet. Anything to drown our lack of conversation.
"Was it Nick?" He finally asks, his voice relatively mono-tonal as usual. I just flip my head across to look at him, confused. "Who sent you... You know, onto women?" He finishes, not even pausing for thought about how slightly offensive and definitely intrusive his question was. "You know... He was the last relationship you had, isn't he? Unless you had a string of them in Devon." I just purse my lips, looking out of the windscreen at the winding road ahead. It was starting to snow now, which was later than usual in the early February weeks, but granted it had been cold today. "I won't tell him. I just want a laugh."
"Nick might have been the best, kindest man I ever had." I admit to him, which I could tell wasn't the response he was after. He screws his nose up at the prospect, smirking slightly. "It was all the others that pushed me to it."
"Oh come on." David grins, looking across at me. "He must have some flaws. What about his excessive need for everything to be neatly aligned on the shelves?"
"...Well I never really minded that." I admit, still staring ahead despite feeling his gaze on me. "It meant I always knew where things were in the kitchen... Not that I ever used any of it."
"What about his sensitivity?" David pushes and I finally look at him, narrowing my eyes at the question and he lets out a laugh. "Oh come on, he can be a bit wet, can't he?"
"Has it ever struck you that maybe that's what women want?" I arch a brow. "Sensitivity, feelings, genuine emotion?"
"...No." David just mutters in response and I resist an eye roll, hesitating before he broaches, "so why did you cheat then? If he was so perfect?"
I swallow against the lump in my throat, half annoyed he was being so interrogative, half flattered that he held such an interest. "...Because that's what I do." I say quietly, almost shrugging it off as if I was used to the fact that I was emotionally destructive. "I used to think I was incapable of happiness. Don't know a good thing 'til I've lost it kinda thing."
"And now?" He presses, but more quietly now as we pull down Victoria Street.
"Now... I'm starting to worry that I'm causing that incapability in other people..." I stupidly say, immediately regretting how I had opened up to the sarcastic, tiny hairdresser that had a dog with the same name as him. "But so far so good, hey?" I clear my throat, pointing at the flats. "It's just here."
"I know." He scoffs, pulling in. "My brother does live here."
"Yeah." I just smile in appreciation, unplugging my seatbelt. "Well, thank you."
"We should do this again sometime." The words freeze me as I go to open the door, and I pull a face, looking back at him. "Joke."
"Bye David." I just return, closing the car door and heading into the block of flats. I'm unsure what state to expect Michelle to be in, but it definitely isn't wasn't what hit me when I opened the door. The table was laid, candles were lit, and an oven dish of something heavenly smelling was sitting on the counter. She turns from where she is arranging chocolate coated strawberries on a plate as soon as she hears the door click, a bright, slightly terrifying smile on her face. "...Hello." My eyes dart around the room, trying to register my confusion. "We had a power cut?"
"Charmin'." She grins, coming over to slip my coat off my shoulders, I stand rigid as she does so, trying to understand the turn of events that were taking place. "It's nothing super special, just chicken and broccoli pasta bake. But I remember having a craving for it around month five so... I thought you might too."
"...Yeah it smells good..." I trail off, as she heads back to the kitchen, discarding the apron she had tied around herself and beginning to spoon the pasta bake out onto plates. "Uh... Are you okay?"
"Yeah, why?" She flashes me another smile momentarily. Don't get me wrong, I was pleased she wasn't having a total breakdown. But part of me felt like there was a great big wall of pretence up and I couldn't even get through to her. "How was the hospital? What did they say?"
"Everything seems fine." I inform her, feeling the relief once again as I think over the doctor's words. "She said keep up with the meds I'm on and make sure I'm not doing anything too strenuous. But yeah, they, and I, are doing okay."
"Ah, that's amazing." She suddenly beams, coming over to me and wrapping her arms around my neck. I inhale the scent of her perfume, her shampoo, feel the softness of her hair and the warmth of her touch and I suddenly ache at how much I had missed it. We hadn't had an embrace like this one for a long time, and by the way she was clinging on to me, I knew she felt the same. It's quiet for a moment as I enjoy holding her close to me, swaying in the silence before I go to pull back, realising she doesn't want to let me go.
I swallow hard before barely whispering, "Michelle... Please talk to me... I know you're not okay." The dampness of my shoulder says it all and I pull her in tighter, just waiting patiently for some words.
"...I thought I was gonna die." The words are uttered so quietly I only just catch them, running a hand through her hair soothingly. "I really thought he was gonna kill me... When I said no... Three times I said no... And the hate, the anger in his eyes... I thought 'this is it'. And I actually thought... I'd rather that than... Than give in to him. Betray you. Carry that around with me for the rest of my life. When he held me by my throat I couldn't help thinking... I might never see you again... I might never see the babies. I knew the man was sleazy but I never knew he'd end up being that... Terrifying."
"...He's not a man." I just murmur into her hair. "He's a monster."
"...He's Will Chatterton's uncle." She releases at last and I freeze up, pulling back, studying her and hoping for one God forsaken moment that it might be some weird joke or pun. But her face was deadly serious. Tears frozen on her cheeks, terror in her eyes. "He told me... Practically jeered about it... That's how he found out about me, why he moved here."
"To pursue you?" I keep the anger from my voice, trying not to fly off the handle at what she was telling me.
"I don't know, I don't think it's like that..." Michelle contemplates, her voice becoming hoarse. "...Will's clearly obsessed, always has been. He must have told Ray all about my life and he thought 'I want a part of that'. Maybe it's some game that family play... I don't know. I don't know why I'm on the radar. The bullseye target."
I'm about to return some words of comfort, anything that I can think up in the moment, but the buzzer rings out sharply all of a sudden and it makes her jump. She stares in terror at the door and I just offer her a reassuring smile. "Hey, he's locked up, yeah?" I remind her, going over to the receiver. "Who is it?"
"It's DC Mason." Her voice calls through the intercom. "Can I have a word." I don't even respond, just buzz her up, worry churning in my stomach. I knew what it was before she could get through the door, but I denied it until the words came from her mouth. "Evening..." She offers us a smile, eyes darting to the abandoned dinner on the counter. "I've got some news about Ray Crosby."
"...You've let him go?" Michelle's voice shakes as she jumps to the assumption.
Her eyes dart between us before revealing, "he's been released on bail, yes."
"Oh my God." Michelle turns, hands flying to her face as she tries to process the information.
"What do you mean you've let him go?" I snap, ready to explode now. "He locked her up! He tried to rape my sister! Have you even spoken to her?"
"Kate Connor made a statement this afternoon, yes-"
"Right and how many women does it take to tell you they've been abused by him before you finally keep him from walking the streets?" I ask promptly, bitterness in my tone. "He could come here!"
"I can assure you, Ray Crosby will not be coming anywhere near either of you, or Miss Connor." She promises, although I didn't know how she could be so sure. "He knows that if he does, he'll be arrested immediately."
"Oh well that's okay then." I lace my tone with sarcasm, turning on her again. "It's like telling a child that they can't have their pudding unless they eat their tea! He's still out there walking around. Maybe he won't come near us but he can go near anybody else! He's assaulted two women in the space of a week! Who's to say he won't do exactly the same thing to somebody else tonight?"
"Carla... Stop." I hear Michelle cry suddenly and guilt twists in my stomach, sighing in frustration as I turn to comfort her. "It's fine, it's procedure."
"I promise you, we are taking this case very seriously." DC Mason returns, retracting slightly. "And we will be questioning Mr Crosby further, this is only for the time being. Until we get the results back from the forensics who have been examining the office." She continues, as I rub Michelle's back, staying silent now. She takes it as a cue to leave, apologetically delivering, "I'll keep you informed... Take care."
"...It's fine." Michelle pulls herself together and I shake my head furiously. "I don't know what I was expecting."
"Listen to me." I gently place my hands on the sides of her face, studying her gaze on mine. "We'll get justice, yeah? We will. She's right, he can't come anywhere near you for the time being. He won't. He might be evil but he's not stupid."
"Yeah." She just murmurs, forcing a slight smile on her face.
"Listen why don't I make us a brew and we'll have some of this lovely food." I wave a hand at the oven dish, which I'm sure by now must be running cold. She just nods, sighing before heading into the bedroom. I set about boiling the kettle, feeling my anger boil along with it. Men like Ray Crosby thought they could talk their way out of anything. I'd known people like him all too well. I was sick of them thinking they had power over us. Terrifying us, breaking us, and then thinking they could do it all over again. I hated the justice system. It had failed me many times before and I wasn't about to let it fail Michelle too.
Hovering the milk over the mug, I pause for a moment, seething silently. Then I chuck it down the sink, reaching for my jacket and slipping it on. "Michelle? We're out of milk. I'll be ten minutes I promise."
Carla
"Thought I'd find you here." I push the bistro door open with such a force that Ray turns in surprise, rolling his eyes over the whiskey glass he has raised in his hand. "Thought this place would be closed off."
"Forensics finished up this afternoon." He just returns, in a bored tone, which aggravates me more. "So what do you want? Ey? You gonna give me a telling off?"
"I'm going to see you suffer." I hiss menacingly. "For what you've done to the people I love. And your sick little nephew and all."
There's a flicker of surprise in his eyes, before he fashions a twisted grin. "I'm tired. Go home." He demands but I don't move, prompting him to lean in slightly. "Go home or you'll regret it."
"What you gonna do?" I plant my hands firmly on my hips, meeting his eye fiercely before practically hissing, "rape a pregnant woman?"
"Oh, for the last time." Ray has the audacity to roll his eyes again. "I didn't rape her. Or yer sister."
"Good as well tried." I growl back at him, watching a slight bored smirk pull at his cheeks. His face made me sick. If I didn't have two babies the size of mangos in my stomach, maybe I'd have it in me to slap him, or worse. "You find it funny? Do you? Intimidating women? Do you get a kick out of it?"
"Ugh, I hate women." Ray leans forward slightly, and I give a slight scoff, as if that wasn't already obvious.
"Yeah and I'm not all too keen on men." I point out, and right now, I'd never meant it more. "But I don't go around locking them up or forcing them against their will."
"Wow, it's like you really want it, eh?"
"...What?"
"You. Begging for it. Egging me on." Ray slips his tongue between his teeth. "It's the same with all you lot. I blame denial."
"...You're twisted." I just spit, not wanting to be in his company any longer, but finally delivering, "you'll get what's coming to you. I'll make sure of that." And with that, I turn on my heel, the tap of my shoes being the only sound to fill the silence.
