Slowly, Now

"Uncle Nick!"

Her voice is like a foghorn at the best of times, so the empty street that she projects it down does little to conceal this fact from everyone else. His name bounces off the walls of neighbours' houses and Nick is careful not to move the baby currently dozing in his arms for the fear of waking her - that is, if his niece's call has not already achieved this. With a heavy sigh, Bethany makes her way over to Nick and to Hayley, her bag swinging over her shoulder, footsteps sure and loud against the cobbled surface on which she walks.

Or, rather, trots.

"What are you doing holding your lady friend's baby in the middle of the street?" she asks. As bold as ever.

If it were anyone else asking such a question, Nick may have been taken aback. But she has asked him far worse recently in relation to Carla and his, as she put it, 'motives' towards her, so he simply rolls his eyes at her choice of words and instead smiles down at Hayley. Her eyes are half open and she is resting her head snuggly against his shoulder. He is glad that the coat he is wearing is made of material which is soft. Hayley seems to think it is, little fingers grabbing at the lapels. She is tired because she didn't sleep at all the previous night. Didn't let her mummy either by the sound of things, but no signs of exhaustion are visible on Carla's face this afternoon. Nick knows because he had a look, a good look, when she approached moments earlier him with a smile and a grumble and an eagerness to talk. She had been chatty for a change and he had revelled internally at that.

"She is not my lady friend," Nick replies, defiant. "And Hayley here—" Upon hearing her name, her lips quirk upwards in her sleepy state. It is as if she knows that she is being discussed and the sight of it is so precious, Nick swears it touches his heart. "—is not a baby. Are you, baby?"

Bethany feels slightly out of place, watching their exchange. Her awkwardness is visibly apparent.

"Right…" She scuffs her shoe against the curb. "And where is Carla?"

"She's on the phone."

Nick points over in her direction. She is standing by the factory, phone to her ear. She waves over at them when Bethany flashes her a very bright, very false smile. As the girl turns and allows Carla to leave her sight, the older woman frowns, wondering what all that was about and whether or not it is her they are talking about, given the stupid smile she can see on Nick's face despite the distance between them.

"Right. Okay." Bethany nods. "So let me get this straight. You walk out of work, see Carla and her baby; her phone rings, she dumps the baby on you. And so..."

"I'm literally left holding the baby, yes." Nick chuckles before seriousness seeps into his tone, the type that Bethany finds ever so patronising. "Why aren't you in school?"

"It's dinnertime," she informs him.

"Yeah. Well done. But that doesn't explain why I can see you."

She is about to retaliate when Carla - and she knows that it's Carla because of her heels and the sound that they make as they carry her towards them - approaches. She feels a hand squeeze her shoulder and receives a smile as equally large and off putting as the one she had given out earlier and it makes her regret having been so cheeky.

Carla says nothing to her, but smiles at Nick. Grins at him. There is a moment where neither speak. They merely look at each other, really look for a second time already today, and then, just as quickly, they look away. Carla distracts herself by staring at the floor, attempting to conceal a smile. Bethany is sure Nick is blushing as he turns his attention towards Hayley. Hayley, who hasn't yet clocked her mother's reappearance, too busy gorping over Nick's comfy shoulder down the street she doesn't nearly see enough of.

"Thanks for that, Nick," says Carla. "You're a star."

And before she can think (let alone overly so) about what she is doing, she presses a lingering kiss of gratitude to his already burning cheek. Naturally, he is taken aback by her actions which come completely out of nowhere. He freezes somewhat; Hayley completely still in his arms.

Bethany watches on with a feeling akin to delight. She wants to make some sort of sarcastic comment, wants to tease them, ask them what it is that is taking them so long to get it on.

But she doesn't. She just smiles as Carla, with shaky breath, transfers Hayley from Nick's arms into her own and makes a point of not touching him. Not his skin; not now. Her nerves are shattered. Her earlier confidence from seconds ago had, of course, been faked rather than felt, but it is completely gone now.

Nick takes a deep breath before he trusts himself to speak again.

"That's alright," he says. He squeezes Hayley's hand. She seems more awake in the arms of her mother and she is looking towards him, leaning towards him as he affectionately strokes her cheek. Nick turns his attention to Carla and is lost for breath. The brightness of her eyes, how her hair hangs about her head. The lipstick shade that he's noticed has gotten lighter recently and how perfectly she is able to apply her makeup.

He doesn't even want to think about all that is below her head, for he knows then he will not be able to stop until the picture in his head is complete, and doesn't know what else to say, but what he does say turns into the question of, "I'll see you later?"

How needy. He feels dread in his chest for her response. Whatever it will be, he is sure it will contain some element of pity. In all seriousness, he pities himself and his desperation to see her. Constantly.

What she does reply with surprises him. She holds his eyes as she speaks.

"Yeah, you will," she says, and it sounds like a promise. Followed by a quiet, a tentative, "Definitely," which causes Bethany to smirk. An idea pops into her head and all thoughts of milking Nick for 'lunch' money leave it. She can do better than that.

Nick replies, "Yes. Definitely," smiling broadly to himself as he slowly walks away. Carla buries her nose into the hair on the top of Hayley's head, almost shyly, and does not like the way Bethany is looking at her. She feels as if she has been found out.

"What?" she asks, bemused.

Bethany gestures towards Hayley, who has already rewrapped her mother's hair around her fingers. "I'll mind your baby for you if you like."

Carla nods. "She does have a name, you know?"

"I know that. It's Hayley. Isn't it, Hayley?"

Hayley looks in the opposite direction. Carla frowns at Bethany.

"Why do you wanna mind my daughter? What's in it for you?"

The girl gives a predictably dramatic sigh.

"Hopefully money. I'm not gonna lie to you. That, and a little bit of happiness for my favourite ever uncle."

"Nick?"

"No, David." This sarcastic comment is followed by the narrowing of her eyes.

"Alright, alright. I know David isn't your favourite. The things he put you through when you were little… I have two words for you: ecstasy doll."

Bethany is rather surprised by this. The fact that Nick discusses his family's affairs with his would be girlfriend makes this situation more serious than she had previously thought.

"I am of course talking about my Uncle Nick. Just put a smile on his face, will you? He's like a lost little puppy these days. Now that he hardly sees you."

That's true. They have both been so busy recently, what with work commitments and Carla's hassles with Hayley along with the planning of Michelle's wedding; then there's Nick who's got David's court case and all of the Platt related drama that comes along with that. They've barely had a moment to themselves to socialise, to go out, to meet with friends. (Friends being each other.) It's sad.

But Carla remains noncommittal, wanting to be persuaded further.

"Come on, Carla! You know you want to! Take Michelle! That'll make things less awkward - or more awkward. It depends on what you're going for, really, doesn't it?" Bethany resorts to batting her eyelashes. She is willing to beg at this point. "Please?"

Carla chuckles at her unwavering attempts. She's sold.

"Fine!" she says. She then pauses. This is said more to herself. "I'll get more than just a smile out of him if I can help it."

Michelle is surprised by Carla's request to go out; surprised more at where she wants to go out to and even further by the news that comes with the request.

They enter the bistro in the midst of laughter. Carla hasn't changed since the morning and as Nick's eyes fall upon her across the bar, she finds herself regretting instantly that decision, cutting her laughter short and attempting to compose herself. Dumping her bag onto the nearest stool to her, she breathes out a lengthy sigh and taps her hand across the bar. Nick walks over to them, smiling.

"I want a large glass of red, please," Carla announces. "No questions, no sarcastic comments. Just…"

Nick catches Michelle's eyes and they share a look of slight apprehension. He doesn't question Carla, however. He does his job. Brings over a bottle and two glasses (he almost reaches for three, but doesn't want to push his luck too far) and places them down onto the bar in front of her. He is about to pour for them when Carla closes her hand around his, the movement so sudden, he does not react to it at all.

"Oh, you know what? Give me the bottle." She yanks it from his grasp and goes to pour the drinks herself. He hadn't realised he was being quite so slow.

He frowns, but looks more than amused.

"Is she alright?" he asks Michelle.

"Yes." Carla answers for herself. "I am more than alright, thank you very much."

Nick nods.

"So what's going on?"

Michelle takes a seat.

"Well, she came up to see me earlier. Said she's done with the whole breastfeeding thing now and will I take her out to celebrate?" Her brows are raised.

Carla scoffs.

"I think you'll find the term I used was get hammered."

This earns her a chuckle from Nick.

"I thought you were all for it? The whole breastfeeding thing, I mean." Carla downs most of her first glass in one gulp and lets out the most satisfied sound. She pops her lips together and gives a hum of satisfaction. "The getting hammered thing, I know."

She stares down into her now mostly empty glass and fills it back up again within a matter of seconds. It's been over a year since alcohol last passed her lips. Her self control has come as a shock even to her. Being sensible is all good and well for while, but there comes a time when it all just gets a little bit too much and she is finally ready to let go again. To become herself again; not just this walking, talking, eating and (occasionally) sleeping milk machine.

"Ha, ha. Very funny." She pauses and becomes a bit more somber. "I mean, I was! I am. I still am. It's just that Hayley's past six months now, in't she? And she's fine."

Nick nods. "She also kept you up all night. Are you sure that's got nothing to do with it?"

Michelle shakes her head at his outrightness.

Carla narrows her eyes at him.

"Shut up, Nicholas." She gulps at her drink again and gives a low, satisfied hum. "Oh, God. This is better than sex."

He almost chokes on air.

"Right. Thanks." He rubs behind his ear. "I think." She hasn't called him Nicholas before. No one does that. Not ever. But the way it sounds, the way she forms it; drawls it. It is something he thinks he could get used to hearing. He wants to get used to hearing her say it. "I'll take that as a compliment, shall I?"

She just grins at him, tilts her head and turns to Michelle. She takes smaller sips of her wine and is impressed that Carla has finally remembered the invite she gave to her to go out.

But Nick hasn't finished yet.

"Where is Hayley?" he asks

"With your Bethany," Carla replies.

"My Bethany?"

"Yeah." She nods. "She offered to take her for me out of the blue."

"Ah." Nick runs his hands along the bar. "I see she can be nice…"

"Yeah. When she wants to be, when she has an incentive to be."

"True." He makes a mental note to text Bethany later and ask her what she's playing at. "So, how come you're in here if you're out celebrating? A bit local, isn't it?"

Michelle nods at that. That was her earlier point Carla hadn't given the time of day.

"Ah. It is," Carla replies. "But the staff in here are just second to none."

She looks him up and down slowly, eyes settling on his tie which moves towards her. He leans in and replies in a whisper, "Good answer."

But before any kind of awkwardness can seep in, a large party enter the bistro and take Nick's attention away from Carla; and Carla's away from Nick. He leaves Carla and Michelle to it, the bottle of wine between them; a glass on each side.

Michelle looks more than amused, chuckling softly to herself as she catches Carla's eyes - that is, after they have watched Nick's figure walk away. Her own eyes are sparkling with mirth.

"What was all that about?" she asks.

"What?" Carla decides to act innocent.

"You know perfectly well." She nudges Carla's shoulder with her own. "You and Nick!"

"Well…" And she is careful about this. Takes her time to speak. "There is no me and Nick."

"Oh, I see." Michelle nods. "I see. And is that a problem?"

"No. That's a fact."

Carla goes back to her wine, but Michelle doesn't feel like dropping the subject quite yet. She looks over at Nick and, as predicted, she is already in his line of sight; though she knows it wasn't her he was aiming to look at in the first place. He smiles sheepishly at her and ducks his head, focuses back on the party he is with, but her intrigue doesn't end there.

"He can't stop looking at you," she tells Carla, this time with a genuine smile. Nick's nice; Nick's decent. The mundane life she knows he leads makes a change from that of the usual carnage Carla tends to get herself involved in, voluntarily or not, and Michelle welcomes it. If there is anything actually there to welcome.

The innocence is back.

"Who?"

"Nick."

"Oh, Michelle. Stop being stupid," Carla bemoans.

But Michelle can only laugh.

"What? He can't!"

Cautiously, she turns her head to see whether what Michelle is saying is true. And it is. Of course it is. Her gut knew before her eyes saw the evidence of it and she gives him a sarcastic smile, a whimsical wave across the room. Her chest feels heavy; her head light with more than just the alcohol she isn't sure how her body is going to take after so long of it not taking any at all.

She throws Michelle a disapproving look, hating to be proved wrong.

"Shut up," she says. "Just…" And a large smile overcomes her, one she can't even be bothered to conceal because Nick does make her smile. Finally, she is able to admit that. "Shut up and pour me another drink whilst you're at it, will you?"

This scene continues in the next chapter, but I wrote a bit too much for me to add the rest of it onto here. Thank you, as always, for your continued support! I'm not exaggerating when I say it means the world.