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Slowly, Now

Hayley's giggles can be heard from the other room, accompanied by the sound of Michelle's laughter; Michelle, who has been fussing over her since the moment they first laid eyes on each other in the cafe. Hours have passed since then, and they are back at Carla's flat. It is now evening, it is now tonight, and Carla is beginning to regret ever opening her mouth when she was with Nick earlier, for she now feels morally obliged to visit him at work. She isn't entirely sure why. All she knows is that it would be rude not to. Maybe he is expecting her. Maybe if she doesn't turn up, he'll be disappointed. She's overthinking it. She knows she is. But this knowledge does little to ease her nerves.

"Carla!"

Michelle interrupts her from her thoughts. She pokes her head around the bedroom door and smiles warmly at her friend.

"What are you doing in here?" she asks.

Carla looks down at the ten and twenty pound notes in her lap. She has taken them out of her purse without conscious thought. She folds the edge of one, just to give her something to do.

"I need to head out somewhere," she says, the words rushed, forced out of her mouth quickly before she has time to think and change her mind.

Michelle frowns.

"What?"

"You can look after Hayley for me, can't you? I'll be an hour tops." Carla stands suddenly from the bed and goes to retrieve her heels. Michelle's eyes follow her as she makes her way around the room. Carla doesn't have to look at her to know that she is frowning. "I just need to go and see someone."

"Who?"

They catch each other's eyes. Carla looks away quickly, as if the answer lies within her gaze; something which Michelle finds intriguing. Very intriguing. If she didn't know Carla any better, perhaps she would mistake her expression for one of shyness.

"No one," Carla says.

But Michelle isn't convinced.

"I will get it out of you, you know," she sings. She looks – and sounds – rather smug.

Carla simply rolls her eyes, grabs a lipstick, and kisses Michelle on the forehead.

"I'll be an hour tops. Promise."

Sunday nights are often quiet in the bistro and tonight is no exception. After the rush at lunchtime has passed and the restaurant has emptied itself, Nick finds he has very little to do. It is Leanne's night off, a given since she is the one with a child and he is the one without, and Steph and Gavin are never much fun when they are working together, both far more interested in each other to take note of anything or anyone else.

Nick leans against the bar, having poured himself a drink. He wants to call what he is currently on a break, but he hasn't done anything in the past hour more strenuous than clearing glasses and cleaning tables, so what he is taking a break from he can't really say. With a sigh, he lifts his glass of orange juice to his lips and is about to take a sip when the door creaks open. A gush of cold air follows Carla as she enters, or rather bursts into, the bistro. She hasn't changed since the morning; her heels the same, shirt the same, jeans the same. And yet Nick finds he cannot take his eyes from her. They take her in as if it is the first time he has seen her in such a way and he has to take a sip of his drink just so he can speak, his throat suddenly very dry.

Carla smiles as she notices his staring, though she tells herself she is imagining most of it, especially the way his eyes rake over her before they settle on her face, his soft smile matching her own. She places her bag down onto the bar beside him and brushes her slightly windswept hair out of her face. It has gotten progressively less straight as the day has gone on, but Nick thinks it suits her more in this way. Not straight and not curly; just so. Natural is the word for it, he supposes.

"Hi," she says. Her voice is somewhat quiet as she reaches into her bag.

"Hello," says Nick. He moves to stand behind the other side of the bar so that he can serve her. "Can I get you a drink?"

She thinks on this for a moment, but then decides against it. She doesn't, however, answer his question. Instead, she places the ten and twenty pound notes she'd gotten out earlier onto the bar and pushes them towards Nick. He looks confused. He dares to touch the edge of one.

"What's this?" he asks.

"Money." Nick laughs at that. She elaborates, "You know, for the taxi? From the other day?"

It clicks.

"I thought I'd told you to forget about that."

"Yeah. Well, I didn't." She picks the notes back up and places them into his hand. "Take it."

He sighs.

"Carla," he begins.

"Nick, just take it. Please."

There is no way he can't. Not when she is throwing him a stern look he quickly comes to realise he has missed being on the receiving end of.

"Fine." This sigh is louder than his previous one. He takes the money and stuffs it into his jacket pocket. "Thank you. So..."

Carla smiles.

"You know what? You can get me that drink if you want."

Nick nods.

"A sparking lemonade, is it?" He is smirking at her, but this isn't the reason she is so unamused. She is unamused because he is right.

"You're not funny," she informs him.

"Okay. Fine. But it is, though, isn't it?"

Carla huffs and folds her arms across her chest.

"Yes," she admits, her lips pursed.

For some reason, when Nick shows her to her table, he decides not to leave it and takes the seat across from hers. They sit in a silence that isn't what one might call comfortable, but it certainly isn't as awkward as Carla had been expecting it to be. She sips on her lemonade and he sips on his orange juice. She wants to laugh at how sensible this encounter feels. She's still not used to going without alcohol in social situations such as these. Thank goodness she'll soon be able to consume it again.

Nick places his glass down on the table and looks up at her.

"So, tell me. Who've you gone and palmed Hayley off onto now?"

His question is so direct and so unexpected that she almost chokes on her drink. She shoots him daggers.

"She is currently having some long overdue cuddles with her Auntie 'Chelle," she informs him. "Come on, Nick. I could hardly bring her with me, could I?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean, Hayley's well behaved from what I've seen. Very well behaved. Her mother, on the other hand..."

This earns him a slap to the arm. He groans as if in pain and then he chuckles, grinning at her in a way that makes her want to grin back. (She doesn't.)

"Excuse me," she says.

"What?" He is still laughing, holding his hands up in a form of surrender. "I'm just saying!"

Carla is about to reply to him when the shrill of his phone ringing interrupts them. He looks at her apologetically, mouthing a quick, sorry, before he answers it.

"Hello? Yes. What? Sarah, no. I've already told you that I haven't. Don't be ridiculous. If I had, do you really think I'd deny you of it? It'd help me out as well as —" He sighs loudly, having obviously been cut short and interrupted. "Yeah. Right, okay. I just told you that, didn't I? Okay. Yes, Sarah. Whatever. I'll see you soon. No, not tonight. No, I'm working. Sarah! Sarah, don't put the—"

But she has already hung up. Carla's glass is now empty, she having been drinking from it almost continuously throughout the course of the phone call.

"Family troubles, eh?" she asks softly, already knowing the answer. His sigh confirms this to her. "I'm guessing 'family day' wasn't very..."

"Enjoyable?" Nick laughs incredulously. Deep down, he is slightly in shock that she has even remembered that part of their conversation from earlier, but then it seems she is full of surprises these days. "No, it wasn't. Sarah spent the whole afternoon pestering me for work. David's going out of his mind over this whole custody battle thing. And Mum's just... well, you know how she is."

Carla smiles, a little overwhelmed and unsure of what to say. Nick shakes his head at himself.

"I'm sorry. You don't want to hear all of this."

Her answer surprises even her. "Yes, I do."

And just like that, one hour turns into two.

Michelle isn't as annoyed as Carla thought she would be when she returns home at nine instead of eight. Hayley is fast asleep in front of the television, her moses basket positioned next to the sofa. The laptop is on the arm of it and is apparently broken. Michelle has never looked more guilty and Carla quickly comes to realise that this is the reason she hasn't commented on her lateness. She leaves with the promise of sending someone over to fix the laptop the following day, but before Michelle has even closed the door behind her, Carla is already dialling Nick's number and hating herself for it with every ring.

Why can't she leave him alone?

The voice in her head sounds a lot like Nick's.

A loud knock against the door a few minutes later causes Hayley to stir. Carla stands from the sofa and curses under her breath, running a soothing finger down her daughter's cheek before she goes let Nick in.

"Keep the noise down, will you?" she hisses. "I've a sleeping child here and I'd very much like for her to stay that way."

Nick enters the flat and makes a point of being quiet. He notices Hayley in the living room and smiles softly over at her. Carla frowns somewhat. His voice is a whisper.

"You can't keep away from me today, can you?"

Carla ignores him completely. She does not like the truth in his words.

"What do you know about technology?"

She walks over to the sofa, where the dead laptop is currently sitting. She places herself down upon it and Nick does the same. He is mindful of Hayley, who is sleeping by his feet. He places the computer onto his lap and attempts to switch it on.

"Not a lot," he admits. "How come?"

"Oh." Carla doesn't try to hide her disappointment. "It's just that Michelle thinks she's broken the laptop whilst I was out and I kind of need it to be working. You know, for work and that."

Nick nods, slowly.

"Well, I can certainly try and fix it," he says, to which she smiles. He runs his hand across the keyboard and frowns when nothing happens.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Carla replies.

It turns out that Nick isn't as much as a computer whizz as Carla had bigged him up to be in her head. The laptop remains broken and Nick remains in her flat. Some trashy television show plays quietly from the box, a show so trashy it seems to have sent Carla to sleep. She is hunched up in the corner of the sofa, her head resting against one of her hands, which is laid flat against the arm. Nick smiles at how peaceful she looks. His visit to her flat has been worth it if only for her promise of finding Sarah something to do at the factory. That's one of his problems resolved, at least.

There is a slight chill in the air despite the spring month they are currently in, so Nick stands and looks around for a blanket to cover Carla with, having noticed the goosebumps prickling at her bare arms. He quickly locates one and throws it lightly over her. She doesn't move as he does so, something which fills Nick with relief. He reaches for the remote to switch off the television and as he does so, he hears the sound of kicking at his feet.

Nick looks down at Hayley and notices that she is now wide awake. She stares up at him with wide, sleepy eyes so alike in colour to her mother's that it is almost off putting. He smiles at her and reaches for one of her outstretched hands, his smile only widening as she tightly squeezes his fingers. Nick is at a loss for what to say, knowing that he could so easily break the peace if he says so much as a word wrong. Instead, he stays silent and simply holds her hand. His experience with babies (and children in general) is so limited that his heart feels as if it is going to beat out of his chest at the thought of upsetting the one that is currently clinging to his hand. The thought of upsetting her mother as a result is even more terrifying to him, for he does not know how she can be when she is sleep deprived, and he does not wish to find out.

"You can hold her if you like."

He lets out a sharp breath. He hadn't realised that Carla had woken. Her eyes are only half open and she is further burrowing herself into the blanket Nick had laid on top of her. She is staring at Nick, staring at how transfix her daughter appears to be by him. Nick does not take his eyes from Hayley as he speaks to Carla.

"No. We're alright, aren't we?" he says in a soft voice she knows isn't directed at her.

Carla closes her eyes again, as if to go back to sleep.

"Don't let her keep you," she murmurs. "She'll hold you all night if you let her. She's like that. Clingy, easily amused."

Nick turns his head to look at Carla. His face looks so content, his smile so genuine. She sighs softly, a strange type of happiness welling in her chest.

"I honestly don't mind," he whispers. And she believes him.