A/N -
This chapter has a more serious tone than previous ones and is something I thought needed to be covered, especially with Michelle being back on the street. I have tried to be as sensitive and realistic as I can.
TW / There are multiple conversations about infant death, still birth and miscarriage in this chapter. There will be information on where to find support at the end of the chapter.
Chapter 5: Building Bridges
Michelle looked as though she was walking on air when she skipped into the room that would soon be her new office, clutching her mobile so tightly it looked to Vicky as though it could crumble in her hand.
"Was that-"
"Christy from the suppliers, yes! She's pleased to hear I'm back up and running and can't wait to work with me again! She said they're going to put the word out to all the local venues, help me get some deals sorted!" She beamed, practically bouncing up and down on the spot.
"Oh, Michelle! That's great news!" Vicky congratulated; a wide, genuine smile stretched boldly across her face. "How about a celebratory butty? I'm absolutely starving." She drew out the last word, tilting her head back for emphasis.
"You're always starving." Michelle commented, grinning at her girlfriend's dramatic display.
"That's because you don't make big enough portions…" Vicky pouted, tapping the end of Michelle's nose lightly. Michelle raised her eyebrows.
"Well, why don't you," she mimicked Vicky's movement, her own finger brushing lightly over the tip of her nose, "get in the kitchen and make your own tea." She smiled, overly sweetly, tilting her head to the side.
Vicky stared at her for a moment, biting her lip.
"So, do I get a butty, or no?"
Michelle rolled her eyes and flicked her arm with the back of her hand, but wore a smile all the same.
"Okay, just for you." She grinned, planting a delicate kiss against Vicky's lips.
"Er, I think the others might have something to say about that…" She pointed out, gesturing through the gaping doorframe to where the plasterers were preparing to finish the walls of the reception.
With a roll of her eyes, Michelle swiped her clipboard off the decorating table and marched into the other room. She dropped it and a pen onto the new reception desk that was waiting patiently in the middle of the room to be released from its cellophane casing.
"I'm making a brunch run, write down what you all want. My treat." She sang, heading back into the office whilst the men made what could only be described as satisfied grunts.
"What on earth did I do to deserve you?" Vicky grinned.
"Well, seeing as you're the one who's dungarees are covered in paint, I think I should be asking you that." Michelle pointed out, linking her hands behind Vicky's neck.
"Hmm, I love you." Vicky said, smiling into the kiss Michelle had pressed into her lips.
"And I love you."
Michelle strutted out of the room, pulled the completed list from the clipboard and headed out into the blustery winter street. She pulled her coat more tightly around her and stuffed her hands into her pockets, mentally noting that she needed to add gloves to her Christmas list.
The cobbles were slippery with the morning frost as she took the short journey towards Roy's rolls. She kept her head down and shoulders hunched in an attempt to keep the brazen wind off her neck. Stepping up onto the curb outside the café, she butted shoulders with someone stepping out of the doorway.
"Watch it!" They said, their tone laced with indignation. Michelle lifted her head as an apology tumbled passed her lips, stopping still when she came face to face with the woman she'd bumped into.
"Oh, Leanne, I-" She stuttered, her eyes widening as she took in the grieving woman before her. They stood in awkward silence for a few moments, before Leanne turned sharply on her heels.
"Leanne, wait!" Michelle called. She stopped where she was, remaining with her back to Michelle. "I'm so sorry. I heard what happened."
Leanne scoffed, turning around to face her, a thunderous look on her face that took Michelle by surprise.
"I just mean, I'm here if you need anyone to talk to." Michelle offered. Despite not being the best of friends, the pair had managed to put aside their differences on several occasions over the years, even coming together in times of hardship. She figured it may help to talk to someone who understood the pain of losing a child.
"And why the hell would I want to talk to you?" She questioned, shooting Michelle a glare.
"Well, I just thought-"
"Oh, don't pretend you care, Michelle. This is exactly what you wanted all along." Leanne spat, furious at the audacity of the woman.
"Why would you think that?" Michelle asked, unable to keep the pain out of her voice.
"Oh, I don't know, maybe it was all those times you said you wished it was Oliver that had died instead of Ruairi. Well, now he has, so I hope you're happy." A single tear slipped from her eye. She wasted no time in firmly brushing it away, the cotton sleeve of her red coat blocking the salty trail.
"Leanne, I didn't mean any of that. I was upset," Michelle tried to explain, a stab of guilt stinging her heart. "I was grieving like you are now. I understand how you're feeling-"
"No, you don't, Michelle! You have absolutely no idea what this feels like!" Leanne's voice broke as she shouted her down, uncontrollable tears spilling over her eyelashes. "Oliver was a child. I got to know him. I fed him, I bathed him, I played with him. You never had that bond with Ruairi. So don't even try to pretend like you have any idea what I'm going through, because you don't!"
Michelle remained rooted to the pavement as Leanne stormed away. She felt physically sick as the weight of Leanne's words settled in her stomach. Clutching a frozen hand over her mouth, she rushed away from the café and back to the comfort of her flat; all thoughts of brunch runs forgotten.
"Chelle?" Vicky called out over the sound of her growling stomach as she closed the front door behind her. "Baby, are you here?"
She stood quietly in the hallway, waiting patiently for a response. No voice called out to her, but a symphony of painful sobs circulating the inside of the flat caught her attention and caused panic to flare within her. She rushed through their home and stopped sharply in the open doorway of the master bedroom as her eyes fell upon the source of the mournful sound.
Michelle was curled up on the bed, her back to the door; shoulders shaking as heavy sobs wracked her body. Vicky's eyes scoured the bedside table next to her, searching for the sign she needed. The floppy-eared, stuffed rabbit was missing from its usual place beside the framed card and Vicky knew instantly what had upset her.
She settled down onto the bed beside her, allowing Michelle to shuffle into her arms. Sure enough, the rabbit was tucked tightly against her heart, it's head littered with tiny black specks, where her tears had rained the residue of her eye make up onto the synthetic fibres. She was sure Michelle would curse herself for it when the time came to put it back in its usual spot, as she always did, but Vicky knew better than to suggest washing it.
She pressed a gentle kiss into the top of Michelle's head, lightly stroking her straightened hair in an attempt to offer some amount of comfort. She didn't need to tell her that she understood; that she knew the pain was still as raw and real no matter how much time had passed. She was restless to know what had caused Michelle's grief to resurface, but was hesitant to push her into a conversation too soon.
As they laid curled up in each other's arms, Michelle's sobs began to subside. Her tears still ran in a slow and steady stream but her breathing had found a more regular rhythm; inhaling and exhaling in sync with the rise and fall of Vicky's chest against her dampened cheek. She swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat, before glancing upwards into the glistening grey eyes of her girlfriend. She was gazing down upon her, an expression of concern and love woven into her features.
"I saw Leanne..." Michelle forced out, the words scratching at her throat, sore from the exertion of her heartache. Vicky's face crumbled, her eyes snapping shut as she drew a sharp breath in.
"Oh, babe..."She exhaled, tightening her grip around the trembling brunette.
"I only wanted to help, Vicky." Michelle let out a soft croak, trying to blink back the flurry of tears that were threatening to sweep over their barricade once more.
"Tell me what happened." Vicky encouraged, dropping another compassionate kiss on the top of her head.
"She basically told me that Ruairi wasn't as much of a loss as Oliver because he never had the chance to live his life." Michelle let out, bitterly; a bubble of rage blending with the already stewing anguish in the pit of her stomach. She ached with the grief; her whole body fostering the physical symptoms of her sorrow.
"Oh, Michelle..." Vicky began, trying her best to maintain a clear head. Leanne's words were cruel, and far from necessary, but the woman was grieving herself; her loss very much still fresh. "Were those her exact words?"
"They may as well have been..." Michelle mumbled, shaking her head against the throbbing in her temples.
Vicky sighed. Her gut instinct was to abandon the broken woman beside her and hunt down Leanne Battersby herself. Seeing Michelle so hurt sparked something within her; an unhealthy urge to inflict the same pain on whatever or whoever was to blame. But her head told her that wouldn't help.
Even though she was sure Leanne's intentions were to hurt Michelle, she knew her girlfriend had a tendency to over analyse things; to allow thoughts to fester and make situations much worse in her own mind. It was clear that whatever had been said had tortured her enough to cause this extent of an emotional outburst, but she couldn't be sure she should place the entirety of the blame on the grieving blonde.
"Listen to me, okay sweetheart? I know exactly what you're going through; the pain you're feeling right now. We've had several years to learn how to deal with it. And I'm certainly not saying that that makes it any easier. All I mean is that, as much as I want to smack her in the face for upsetting you, Leanne is at rock bottom right now. Lashing out at people, it's what we do, isn't it? And often, it's the people we don't want to hurt." Vicky paused to glance down at Michelle, who's eyes were focused intently on her. She could tell she was contemplating her words, her lips set in a thin line. After a few silent moments, she nodded in acceptance.
"Ruairi was so lucky to have you as a Mammy. And he was just as important as every other baby."
"And so was Ella." Michelle whispered. It hadn't escaped her that Vicky's memory must have been somewhat rocked by her display, and it only became clearer as her eyes drifted shut at the mention of her baby's name.
She'd never talked about her all that much before she'd met Michelle. The only person she'd had around was Tyler and she knew he couldn't understand; hoped he'd never have to. She was her precious little memory; one she'd kept locked away, safe and secure in the back of her mind and in the small box in the back of the wardrobe. It was where she'd kept her hospital tag, the black and white prints of her tiny hands and feet and the little pink baby grows that she'd bought in the fresh excitement of pregnancy.
Now, though, Vicky didn't have to hide her. The tough, hard-nosed façade she'd had to create in order to protect herself; from the other kids at school, from the leery blokes looking to take advantage of young, single mothers; from anyone that was out to threaten her safety; was unnecessary when Michelle was around. She knew she could trust her completely; that she was safe. She didn't have to pretend to be strong around her. In their double room, the prints were no longer confined to the box at the back of the wardrobe. They now sat in a new frame on her bedside table. It was much more of a comfort to have them so close; to be able to look at them with the slightest turn of her head.
"Hey, listen," Vicky said, tenderly, linking her fingers through Michelle's. "Why don't I go and run you a bath? Then I'll head to Roy's and get some butties; keep those plasterers quiet downstairs." She smiled. Michelle's face creased and she pushed herself up into a seated position.
"I'm so sorry, I completely forgot." She apologised, letting out a frustrated sigh.
"Stop being so hard on yourself." Vicky chastised, gently; squeezing Michelle's hand as she shuffled off the bed. "Lavender or jasmine bubbles?" She grinned, pausing in the doorway. Michelle let out a light laugh, wiping the lingering tears from her cheeks with the heels of her hands.
"Surprise me."
Michelle wandered carefully into the living room, bare feet padding against laminate flooring; the sound inaudible over the dulcet tones of the romantic lead from the film playing on the television. Vicky was sat on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, clutching a steaming, ceramic mug in her palms.
"What's this?" Michelle asked, nodding towards the television.
Vicky turned, acknowledging her girlfriend's presence in the room for the first time. She'd pulled her dressing gown tightly around her, the soft fabric falling to just above her knees. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders and her skin was glowing, despite the absence of make up on her face. An hour soaking in the bath had worked wonders; easing the tight knots in her muscles and giving her time to put things into perspective. Vicky offered her a smile, shuffling along on the sofa to allow her to settle in beside her.
"How are you feeling?" Vicky asked, combing her fingers gently through Michelle's hair.
"Better." Michelle nodded, eyes narrowing at the television. "Is this The Holiday?"
"I think so. It was just the channel that was on. I can change if-" As she reached across for the remote that was settled on the surface of the coffee table, Michelle caught her hand, lowering their linked fingers into her lap without diverting her eyes from the scene playing out on screen.
"I love this film." She whispered, her thumb stroking the back of Vicky's hand.
"I've not seen it before." Vicky admitted. Truth be told, she hadn't really been watching. It had been on in the background as she pottered around the house after abandoning her painting task downstairs, instead tidying up Sonny's mess and throwing clothes into the washing machine. She was well aware of how a messy house was something that caused Michelle extra stress and, after her run in with Leanne that morning and trying to juggle the renovation of the salon, extra stress was the last thing she needed weighing on her shoulders. She was happy to take the load off; anything to make things slightly easier for her partner. She was certain that, should the occasion arise, Michelle would do the same. She'd sat down only a few minutes before Michelle had come through, a fresh mug of coffee warming her hands.
"Do you fancy a drink?" She asked, still watching Michelle intently. The older woman shook her head.
"No, I'm okay, thank you."
They sat quietly for several minutes; Michelle watching the film and Vicky watching Michelle. The serenity of the scene was broken only by the piercing sound of the buzzer ripping harshly through the flat. Vicky rolled her eyes, letting out a huff.
"I swear, if that's the plasterers... You know, I gave them specific instructions when I dropped off the butty's to post the keys through the letterbox when they were done."
"I doubt they'd be finished yet, would they?" Michelle pointed out in a puzzled tone, as Vicky wandered towards the phone. She picked it up, pressing the receiver to her ear.
"Yes?" She quizzed the awaiting stranger at the door.
"Erm... Is Michelle there?" The voice was muffled through the speaker, but the hesitance within it was clear.
"Who's asking?" Vicky pressed, her brow knitting with irritation.
"Leanne."
Vicky let out a breath, rubbing her forehead with her left hand, lowering the phone in her right momentarily. She pressed it back against her ear determinedly, speaking breezily into the phone.
"I don't think she wants to see you." She stated, a bite to her tone. As much as she felt sorry for her, Vicky was still angry about the state she'd found Michelle in earlier as a direct result of their conversation. Whilst she'd tried to excuse her behaviour to Michelle in order to calm her down, she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep her cool should she come face to face with the woman so soon.
"Who is it?" Michelle asked, leaning over the back of the sofa with a questioning glance in Vicky's direction.
"Leanne." Vicky informed her.
"Let her come up."
Vicky blinked at her for a few seconds, trying to read the expression behind Michelle's eyes. It was passive, exhausted. She tilted her head, a silent question passing between them, before turning her attention back to the woman on the end of the phone.
"Fine. Five minutes." Vicky pressed the button to unlock the door firmly and hooked the phone back into position.
"Go easy..." Michelle warned, her eyebrow raised. Vicky shot her a false smile, before swinging open the door at the top of the stairs. She left it swaying on its hinges as she waltzed back into the flat, busying herself with pulling the damp clothes from the washing machine where they'd just finished their cycle.
Leanne entered the flat sheepishly, handbag slung over her shoulder and coat belt pulled tightly around her waist. Vicky silently hoped that was a sign she wouldn't be staying long. She wasn't prepared for a repeat of the morning.
Michelle offered Leanne a sympathetic smile. She was hesitant to begin a conversation, for fear of saying the wrong thing; which she assumed she must have done that morning.
"Hi Michelle..." Leanne coughed slightly, shifting from one foot to the other. Michelle opened her mouth to form a response, but was quickly cut off. "Look, before you say anything, I just want to say how sorry I am. What I said was really awful and I promise you I didn't mean any of it. I was just... Well, I didn't expect to run into you and I was having a really bad morning and- Well, there's no excuse really, so I'm sorry."
Michelle tilted her head, and let out a breath.
"Do you want a drink?" She asked.
"Erm... Yeah, please." Leanne smiled slightly, somewhat relieved that she hadn't been shouted down the moment she'd stepped through the door.
Michelle glanced over towards Vicky, looking at her pointedly. The younger woman rolled her eyes, flicking the switch on the stainless steel kettle before retrieving two mugs from the cupboard above her head.
"Thanks babe." Michelle smiled, warmly. Leanne placed her bag carefully beside the armchair perpendicular to where Michelle remained perched on the sofa. She settled herself atop the cushions, hands resting in her lap.
"Coffee, Leanne?" Vicky called from the kitchen, spooning a heap of the granules into her mug before she'd even had time to respond.
"Please. White, no sugar, thank you."
"Look," Michelle began, her thumb rubbing the palm of her hand absentmindedly as she formulated her sentence, "I'm not going to pretend I wasn't hurt by what you said. But, you were right in some aspects. I said some horrible things when I lost Ruairi. And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry too. I suppose it's just how we cope, isn't it? All that anger and guilt and pain needs an outlet and sometimes we just snap..."
Leanne looked up at her, brow creased and eyes awash with unshed tears.
"Does it ever get easier?" She whispered, her voice small. Michelle gave a slight shrug, considering the question.
"Yeah, I suppose." She sighed. "Some days you'll be fine and then others it just hits you. It never goes away, that feeling of loss, but it starts to feel more manageable. We find ways to cope because we have to."
Vicky slipped a steaming mug into her girlfriend's hands, marvelling at the wisdom of her words. She handed the second mug to Leanne, offering her a small, genuine smile, before reclaiming her seat beside Michelle.
"It just feels like it's never going to end. Like it just gets worse every single day..." Leanne confessed.
"I know. And it will probably feel that way for a while. It did for me, anyway. But the thing that helped me the most was having the people I love around me. Being able to talk about it to them made things feel less... Heavy. At least for a little while. And, hey, I know we're not exactly the best of friends but, if you do need someone to talk to who understands the smallest bit about what you're going through, you're always welcome to come round for a coffee."
"Well, I have to say, I never thought it would come to this. Me and you getting on-"
"Who'd have thought it, hey?" Michelle laughed. "I guess sometimes we just need to choose our battles."
"Hey..." Michelle patted the sofa beside her as Vicky closed the front door. "I'm super proud of how you handled that."
"How I handled that?" Vicky repeated, her eyebrows knotting together in confusion.
"Yes, you. I could tell by the way you spoke to her on the phone that you wanted to stove her head in..."
"Nothing gets past you, does it?" Vicky grinned, lacing her fingers through Michelle's. She let out a sigh. "I just hate seeing people upset you. You know I'd do anything if it meant you'd never get hurt again."
"And so would I for you. But anyway, I'm glad we had the chance to have that chat. I feel much better for it."
"Good. But, what you said about her popping round for a coffee... Is that going to be a regular thing? Do I need to assert my dominance and start marking my territory?"
Michelle let out a light laugh. "You know I've only got eyes for you." She leant forwards, pressing a firm kiss against the Irish woman's lips. "Thank you for today. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Vicky smiled, slinging an arm over Michelle's shoulder and reaching for the TV remote with her other hand. She pulled her in close so that they were snuggled up together.
"Well, luckily for you, you're never going to have to find out."
If you have been affected by the issues raised in this chapter, or are looking for help and support, Saying Goodbye is a charity that offers support and advice for those dealing with the loss of a child at any stage of pregnancy, birth and infancy.
Contact them on 0845 293 8027 or via their website. I will post the link on my twitter account, which can be found in my bio.
Remember: You are not alone.
