Chapter 2
After a night of constant tossing and turning, Carla is in no mood for the day that is yet to come. No matter how many times she flipped her pillow or tried to force herself to fall asleep, she just couldn't, and that is because seeing Lisa yesterday affected her more than she thought it would. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind would drift off to Lisa, and every time she pictured the detective, the pain in her chest came back. That horrible, heavy feeling of nothing but pure sadness. It's the kind of sadness that feels like a physical pain. Like with every heartbeat, it feels like a knife plummeting into your flesh. The funny thing is that love is not something that Carla was searching for; God knows that it was the furthest thing from her mind after everything that happened between her and Peter, but that's the thing about love—you don't normally see it coming. You don't realise it's happening until it is too late.
This morning Carla decided to bite the bullet and swallow her pride. She texted Lisa. It was a short and sweet message but an olive branch nonetheless. When she typed it out, she pondered for far too long over whether she should send it or not, then pressed that little send button while looking away. Carla didn't think that she would get a reply, but that still didn't lighten the blow when the hours passed by and she was still left on read.
Carla's chest is still heavy as she walks from the factory and across the cobbles to Roy's, but she has pushed Lisa to the back of her mind. She has bigger fish to fry today, like the meeting she has this afternoon. Carla is a dedicated follower of fashion and always has been. Even when she was a teen with no money to spend, she still dedicated her time to keeping up on the latest trends and what the popular celebrities at the time were wearing, who they were wearing, and how they were styling it. She now has a wardrobe full of designer clothes, but today she has decided to dress down. Not only was she too tired to make a huge effort, but the thought of Mr. King's eyes lingering too long on her body during their meeting at the bistro made her feel nauseous, which is why she settled on a pair of faux leather pants and a baggy jumper pierced with gold buttons on the cuffs. She still looks good, and she knows it.
After showering and getting dressed, she tried to kill time before the meeting by catching up on some work at the factory but could not concentrate, which is the reason she is heading for a cup of coffee and a sticky bun. She tries to keep away from sweet treats during the week, but today she thinks she deserves one.
She enters Roy's and makes her way over to the table in the corner of the café. Pulling out the chair, she sits down and pulls her magazine out of her handbag. She has a slight headache from last night's wine filled catch-up with Michelle, but as soon as she gets a coffee down her, she guesses that she will feel as right as rain. It is nice having Michelle back—well, that's putting it lightly. Carla is thrilled to have her best friend back, and their cosy night in talking about old times was just what she needed.
Carla sets down her magazine in front of her and nods at Roy when he offers her a coffee. He seems surprised when she also asks for the sticky bun, but he brings them over happily and gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. He always knows when there is something off with Carla, and he knows her well enough not to pry. They have a silent understanding that she can go to him about anything in the world, and he will listen and give advice without any judgement at all, and she has done that many times in the past, but the Lisa situation is something that she does not want to keep dwelling on, so talking about it over and over again is something she does not want to do. As she smiles at Roy, then looks back down at her glossy magazine, a hand lands on her shoulder.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the top skiver herself."
Carla takes her time looking up from her magazine and has to stop herself from rolling her eyes.
"Hello, Sean." She finally replies, and he takes that as an invitation to take a seat at her table.
He is grinning that stupid smile of his while folding his arms across his chest. "This is cosy, isn't it?"
Carla sighs. "No, Sean, it isn't. I actually have a meeting to prepare for, so if you don't mind..." Her direct approach of non too gently letting Sean know that she is not in the mood for his company does not work as well as it probably should have done because Sean doesn't budge. He just laughs and nudges her arm with his elbow.
"I don't think Home & Garden magazine will help you out when it comes to a meeting about knickers, do you?" He grins, and Carla tenses. What does she need to do around here to get a minute of peace? At home Bobby and Ryan are constantly bothering her; at work she cannot go 2 minutes without someone barging their way into her office, and to make matters worse, at night she tosses and turns for hours on end, so her tolerance for people during the day, especially people like Sean, is near enough non-existent.
Closing the magazine and placing her hands on top of it in defeat, she forces an obviously unauthentic smile onto her face. "Ok, you got me. If you must know, I wanted some peace and quiet away from you factory lot. You know, some days it is like babysitting a bunch of toddlers, and this morning it seemed like the whole lot of you were running to my office every 2 minutes"
"Auntie Carla!" Bobby's jovial voice interrupts her rant. He is coming through the door, and the sight of her nephew walking over to her table almost pushed Carla over the edge. The last person she wants to be sat with is Bobby.
"What do you want, Bobby?" She asks bluntly.
"A cup of tea and a bacon butty, if you're offering."
"No, I'm not bloody offering. Why are you here? Don't you have work to do?"
"Day off, remember?"
"Of course it is, and what about you, Sean? Don't you have some knickers to sew, or am I paying you for nothing?"
Sean pulls a face of mock offence and holds his hand to his chest. "I am on my dinner break, if you must know! It is my legal entitlement," he defends himself. Bobby now making himself at home at her table Carla puts her magazine back into her bag and stands up to leave, leaving an untouched bun and a full cup of tea on the table. It is when she turns around to make a quick exit that she sees Lisa standing in line at the counter. They make eye contact, and Carla can't help herself; she offers her a small smile, but the smile is not returned.
"Detective," Carla greets her, and Lisa physically tenses, breaking the eye contact. "Off to work?" Carla asks.
"What gave that away? Was it the obvious work uniform or the lanyard around my neck?" Lisa's voice is full of cold sarcasm. Carla hates this; she hates what they have become, but what she hates even more is how this makes her feel. This Lisa is a Lisa that Carla does not know. It is not the Lisa that she curled up on the sofa with, it is not the Lisa whose hair she stroked out of her face and whose body she softly caressed after they slept together for the first time. This Lisa is a stranger, and Carla hates that Lisa goes into fight-or-flight mode so easily because now she is hidden behind a guard that Carla can not break down no matter how hard she tries. When Carla opens her mouth to speak, it is too late. Lisa has already turned on her heels and is hurrying out of the door, forgetting what she went in there for, and Carla is calling her name, but Lisa ignores her, needing to get outside.
Having properly had enough of whatever games Lisa is playing, Carla rushes out after her, and she reaches for her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. "Hey, hey, Lisa."
"Carla, I have to get back to the station."
"Just give me two seconds, please." There is a pleading in Carla's eyes. Lisa sees it, and as much as she wants to keep running, she can't.
"Two seconds," Lisa nods in agreement.
"Look, Lisa. Can't we sort this out? Whatever happened between us has happened, and I've made peace with the fact that we can't be together. I mean, I still don't agree with your reasons, but is it worth throwing our friendship away over?"
Lisa scoffs and shoves her hands into her pockets. "After the way that you spoke to me yesterday, it didn't seem like you had made peace with anything."
Unaware that Bobby is eavesdropping at the door, Carla sighs deeply. "You're the one that emphasised that we only slept together once, so if it wasn't such a big deal, then why have you been avoiding me? Sure, it's awkward, but you haven't even reached out to me to make amends."
"Make amends?" Lisa scoffs again, and Carla bites her tongue. She hates when Lisa is like this, so painfully stubborn and cold. It is like a switch goes off inside of her, and when she is in one of these moods, Carla knows that nothing that she says or does will get through to her. Lisa tucks her fallen hair behind her ear and steps closer to Carla. "I don't think I have anything to make amends for. I was forthright with you, and everything I said then still stands now. I am not ready for a relationship, and Betsy isn't ready either. I have to be there for my daughter, and I won't apologise for that or the way I went about it," Lisa tells Carla, and that painful sadness in the pit of Carla's stomach turns into angry bitterness. The other night Lisa called her hard-faced, but if the truth be told, it seems like it was a case of the pot calling the kettle black.
Pinching the bridge of her nose to compose herself, a bitter laugh comes out of Carla. It is a laugh of anything but amusement, but it is better to laugh than to let her anger spill out. She is fighting with herself to not say what she really thinks but stood on the cobbles outside of a packed Roys Rolls is not the place for another heated argument, so deciding to be the better person for once, Carla doesn't reply. She simply turns her back on Lisa and starts to walk away. Lisa reaches for her arm to turn her around, but Carla, none too gently, pulls her arm from her grasp. "Leave it, Lisa. I mean it."
"It was you that wanted to talk."
"That was until I realised that you were still up there on your high horse. I can't talk to you when you're like this, so maybe you had the right idea. Let's just get on with our own lives, yeah? I'll cross the street when I see you in case, God forbid, we make eye contact, and I won't contact you anymore unless it is about Betsy, and i tell you now Lisa, the way she is getting on at the factory, she is on very thin ice" she says, and with that she walks away, leaving Lisa standing on the curb watching her go. Lisa swears under her breath and leans her head backwards, closing her eyes. This is not the way either of them wanted things to go, but Lisa is fiercely protective of her daughter, and she will do anything to protect her happiness, even if that means sacrificing her own.