Chapter 9
Carla sat at her small dining table, a steaming mug of coffee warmed her hands, yet her gaze was distant, lost in a whirlpool of thoughts. The faint sounds of the cobbled street waking up outside seeped into her home, but they barely registered in her mind.
She absentmindedly pushed a piece of toast around her plate, her stomach tangled in knots—not from hunger, but from the weight of her feelings. Ever since Lisa had entered her life, it was as if a vibrant kaleidoscope had suddenly replaced the monochrome shades of her daily routine. Each moment they spent together transformed into something extraordinary, yet the thought of confessing her feelings filled her with hesitation.
Falling in love with Lisa felt exhilarating, yet disconcerting. Carla had navigated the dating scene for years, invested so much in relationships that crumbled under the weight of unrealised expectations and disappointment. She had always been drawn to men—each relationship a dance of passion and heartbreak. But this… this was different. This was the first time she had ever found herself entranced by a woman, and it was both liberating and terrifying.
Her heart raced as she recalled the first time Lisa had smiled at her from across the room, how her laughter had echoed like music, touching a part of Carla she didn't know existed. It was a feeling she hadn’t anticipated, and part of her marveled at how natural it felt, even amid the apprehensions rushing through her.
Yet beneath the beautiful whirlwind of emotions lay a nagging voice in the back of her mind. What would people say? Would they gossip about her newfound relationship with Lisa? Carla wasn’t struggling with her sexuality; she was entirely comfortable with who she was. Still, the idea of stepping outside societal norms made her flinch. It wasn’t the fact that she was falling for a woman that left her uncertain—it was the public perception that frightened her. Deep in her heart, Carla knew that love was love, but she had spent so much of her life seeking acceptance and validation, and for the first time, she felt vulnerable.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to shake off those worries and focus on the sun-drenched moment before her. She recalled how supportive Ryan had been, how easy it was to open up to him about Lisa. Why should she live in fear of what others thought when what mattered most was the connection they shared? Carla took another sip of coffee, grounding herself in that warm embrace of comfort.
Still, she couldn't quite find the courage to speak her truth. The thought of sharing her feelings gnawed at her, both exhilarating and frightening. Did Lisa feel the same? Was she simply a passing moment in Lisa’s life, or could this be something more permanent, more profound?
She closed her eyes, allowing memories to wash over her. The late-night conversations, the way Lisa’s eyes sparkled when she'd discuss her dreams, and the gentle brush of her fingers against Carla’s arm sent shivers down her spine. Each shared laugh and secret glance seemed to weave an unspoken bond, a thread of intimacy that tightened with every encounter. But was love truly possible?
Carla's thoughts were interrupted by the chirp of her phone. It was a message from Lisa: "Good morning! Want to meet up at our favorite café for breakfast? I’ll be there around 8? 🌼 xx"
A rush of warmth enveloped Carla’s heart as a smile bloomed on her face. They had made this a ritual over the past few weeks, meeting at the charm-filled café where they always ordered the same dishes. It was a tradition that felt both comforting and exhilarating.
With newfound determination, Carla responded: "Sounds perfect! See you soon! xx"
She finished her coffee and began tidying up the flat, her heart racing at the thought of seeing Lisa again. There was something liberating about allowing herself to feel this way, but as excitement coursed through her veins, she also felt the nervous flutter of uncertainty.
Could they talk about this? Should she spill her heart out over breakfast? Or would it be too soon? Carla had never been one to shy away from vulnerability in the past, but this felt different. It felt monumental.
As she prepared for her day, one thought surfaced amid her swirling emotions: love shouldn’t be hidden away. It deserved to be celebrated, to be openly embraced. Whatever challenges the world presented, she would face them if it meant revealing her truth, embracing love in all its beautiful forms.
Today was a chance—a chance to be honest, to share not just her thoughts but her heart. And with every step towards Roy’s, she felt a flicker of hope igniting within her—the hope for something extraordinary, something lasting that began with an unexpected love.
————-
Betsy stood in front of the doors to the factory, the crisp morning air filling her lungs as the sun began its ascent. A sense of dread twisted in her stomach as she replayed her previous decisions over and over in her head. She hadn’t considered the consequences of allowing the Radcliffe brothers access to the factory. Now, standing there, she felt the weight of her decision pressing down on her as she mentally prepared for what was to come.
“Hey! Betsy!” a voice called, slicing through the stillness of the morning. She turned sharply to see Matty and Logan Radcliffe approaching, their confident strides betraying the bravado that came with their reputation. Matty’s dark hair looked tousled, a smirk on his face that felt far too familiar, while Logan’s piercing gaze seemed to probe her very thoughts.
“What do you want?” Betsy snapped, folding her arms defensively across her chest. Anger flared in her belly, pushing back against her anxiousness; she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her scared.
“Relax, Bets,” Matty said, his tone dripping with condescension as they came to a stop before her. “We just wanted to have a little chat about business.”
Betsy narrowed her eyes, her heart racing. “Business? The kind that gets people arrested or the kind that leads to a beating?”
Logan let out a low chuckle. “Feisty as always. But we’re not here to rough you up today. We wanted to remind you of our little agreement.”
Betsy swallowed hard, feeling the knot in her stomach tighten. She hated how they both looked at her—like they were playing a game she had no interest in winning. All she wanted was to keep Mason safe and out of their reach. “I’ve held up my end of the deal.”
“Exactly,” Matty interrupted, stepping into her space, his tone sharp. “And we’d like to keep it that way. You know how curious your mum can get, right? She goes all detective-mode whenever she catches a whiff of trouble.”
The hairs on the back of her neck raised. Betsy clutched her fists, rage simmering beneath the surface. “Leave my mum out of this! She’s just trying to do her job!”
Logan took a step forward, his playful smirk fading, revealing a more sinister expression. “If you can’t convince her to back off the investigation, we can’t guarantee Mason’s safety. It’s that simple, Betsy. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.” His words were a heavy threat, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
“Why are you doing this?” Betsy’s voice shook, but she fought to keep her composure. “You don’t need to drag him into this mess. Just let it go.”
Matty leaned in closer, the tension thick like fog around them. “You have until the weekend to make your mum drop the case. Otherwise, we’ll have to remind little Mason of our ‘agreement.’ You know how we are when it comes to family.” The menace in his tone sent shivers racing through her.
Betsy’s heart raced with every word, anger and fear intertwining as she envisioned the potential fallout. She bit her lip, feeling cornered as guilt washed over her. “You can’t threaten me. My mum is tough, and she isn’t going to just back down because you say so.”
“Watch us,” Matty shrugged, a dismissive smile on his face, as if her fears were unfounded. “We have our ways. Just remember, you chose to play with fire, and now it’s your turn to get burned.” With that, they turned and sauntered away, leaving Betsy alone in the morning light, the realisation of their threats hanging heavy in the air.
As she made her way inside the factory to begin her shift, uncertainty gnawed at her insides. The cost of seeking revenge had just risen to an unbearable height, and she was acutely aware of the urgent need to confront her mum about the investigation—before it spiraled out of control and threatened anyone else she cared about.
—————-
Betsy pushed the door of Roy’s Café open with a hint of force, her blonde waves bouncing around her face as the bell above the entrance tinkled softly. She had intended to escape into solitude, a refuge from her swirling emotions. But as she glanced around the cozy café, her heart dropped when she spotted her mother seated at a table near the window, laughing with Carla.
What was she doing here? Betsy’s cheeks heated, and she blinked rapidly to stave off the tears threatening to fall. She had been doing everything she could to hide her struggles, and the last thing she wanted was to be confronted by her mother in a place that felt like her safe haven. But there they were, seemingly basking in a world of chatter and warmth that felt so out of reach for her at that moment.
“Betsy, what’s wrong?” Her mother’s voice cut through the light chatter of the café like a knife, genuine concern etched across her face as she leaned slightly forward, noticing the storm brewing inside her daughter.
Betsy rolled her eyes, anger mixing with her vulnerability like oil and water. The facade of her strength cracked slightly as she snapped back, “Ugh, nothing’s wrong! Just leave me alone!” The words came out harsher than she intended, but the frustration was consuming her. She felt cornered, like a lion backed into a den, and she couldn't stand it.
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel, storming out of the café in a predictable Betsy fashion, the soft sound of the bell ringing after her, a stark contrast to the anger inside her. As she passed through the threshold, she could feel the pang of regret. But the anger overpowered it, propelling her forward into the brisk air.
Back at the table, Lisa’s expression shifted from confusion to concern as she quickly registered the tension that had unfolded. “I’m sorry,” she said to Carla, her words laced with urgency, “I think I need to go after her.”
Carla’s heart felt a twinge of disappointment, knowing that when it came to her daughter, Lisa had her priorities straight. She offered a small smile, attempting to keep the disappointment at bay. “Of course, go. Don’t apologise,” she replied, genuinely wanting to support Lisa.
“I’ll see you later.” With a small smile and gentle squeeze of Carla’s shoulder, Lisa rose from her seat, her determination evident as she rushed out the door in search of Betsy. Carla couldn’t help but feel an ache in her chest for the words that had yet to be spoken.
Once the door swung shut behind Lisa, Carla let out a sigh, taking a moment to re-center herself. She brought the coffee cup to her lips, the warmth comforting her slightly, all the while, a small, nagging frustration grew within her that she couldn't ignore.
What if today had been the day she finally voiced her feelings? What if everything had perfectly aligned? Instead, it felt once again as if she had to put her needs on pause, sacrificing her moment for the complexities of Lisa’s life.
She stared out the window, watching the world continue to whirl by as people came and went, laughter echoing in the café—a world that felt so far removed from the whirlwind of emotions inside her. As the minutes ticked by, she felt the smiling faces around her growing distant, even the aroma of freshly brewed coffee suddenly dulling in her senses. The idea of unspoken love sat heavily in her heart. Would there ever be a right time to acknowledge her true feelings?
Just then, the door swung open again, and Carla's heart raced in anticipation, only to see the café fill with a new group of customers. She sighed, lowering her head slightly. Perhaps it was just not meant to be today. She reminded herself that love was a dance; sometimes, you led the way, and other times, you had to allow others the space to express what they needed. It was a balancing act, she knew that much.
Carla took another sip of coffee, hoping that when the next opportunity arose, she could find the strength to unveil her feelings. Until then, she would wait with an open heart, knowing that sometimes, the most beautiful things in life required a little patience.
———————-
Betsy stormed through the factory floor, snapping at everyone within earshot. The clanking of machinery and the chatter of workers were drowned out by her simmering frustration. It was only mid-morning, and she had already snapped at two of her coworkers, leaving a trail of awkward silence in her wake.
From her office, Carla observed the chaos unfolding; a knot tightened in her stomach. The teen had become so much more than just an employee; Betsy had become a bright spark amidst the dull routine of factory life, but lately, the spark had morphed into a volatile flame. Carla hesitated. Should she intervene?
Just weeks before, their conversation echoed in her mind—a tender moment shattered by Betsy’s heartbreak over her mother’s new relationship, the raw fear of Becky being replaced still fresh. Carla had always been protective of the young girl, but the anger from the teen was enough to make her think twice. Perhaps she should let her be for now, to cool off and regain her composure.
———-
At the Rovers that lunchtime, Carla sought comfort with a soft drink, her mind buzzing with concern. Lisa sat across from her, sipping her own drink in silence. Carla decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. “Did you talk to Betsy?” she asked cautiously.
Lisa sighed, swirling the ice in her glass. “I tried,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But she wouldn’t say anything. She just brushed me off.” The frustration was evident in her eyes. “I can’t help but think it’s something to do with… well, my relationship with you.”
Carla’s heart ached at the admission. “You think she’s upset about us?”
“Probably,” Lisa replied, taking a deep breath. “I thought she was coming to terms with it, but after this morning... I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a terrible parent failing to keep her happy.”
Carla quickly shook her head. “You’re not terrible, Lisa. We all have our challenges, and teenagers can be unpredictable,” she offered, hoping to lift some of the guilt that hung over her girlfriend. “It’s tough for her, watching her mum move on. She might just need more time.”
“I just want her to feel safe and loved, and I never wanted her to think my choices mean I don’t care about her. It kills me,” Lisa said, with anguish in her voice.
Carla moved closer, her tone softening. “Listen, just because you’re choosing to focus on your happiness, it doesn’t mean you care any less. Give her time. She might just need a chance to adjust.”
“What if she despises me for it?” Lisa’s voice cracked with fear. “What if she thinks I’m choosing you over her?”
Carla reached out, placing her hand over Lisa’s. “But that’s not the case. You’re doing your best. You can still have a strong relationship with her.”
Taking a deep breath, Lisa looked deeply into Carla’s eyes. “I just want you to know, despite Betsy’s behavior, I’m not going anywhere. I’m fully in this with you, Carla. I won’t run away again, no matter how tough things get.”
A smile broke on Carla’s face, the weight of worry lifting a little. Their bond was solid, and together they felt more resilient. They both knew the path ahead was uncertain, but the love they shared gave them hope for whatever challenges lay ahead.
————-
Back at the factory, Carla’s concerns spiraled as she scrutinised Betsy through the office window. The girl’s face was flushed with anger as she stood, towering over Sally, fists clenched. Sally’s casual comment about Mason—a mere joke about him being a “menace” to the streets of Weatherfield—had tipped her off balance.
Betsy’s features twisted in fury, tears brimming in her eyes as she lashed out. “You think you know him? You don’t know anything!” she screamed, the intensity in her voice echoing throughout the factory.
Carla’s heart raced. This was too much. Acting on instinct, she pushed her chair back and stepped out of her office, intent on stopping the impending explosion.
“Betsy!” she called out, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. The room stilled, and all eyes turned towards the scene unfolding. Betsy froze, her emotions tumultuous as she met Carla’s gaze.
“Come to my office,” Carla said gently but firmly, beckoning Betsy with a hand gesture. The tears spilling in her eyes told a story that Carla felt in her bones—this wasn’t just about the comments or the gossip; something deeper was unraveling within Betsy.
With a fleeting glance towards Sally, who looked bewildered, Betsy turned and followed Carla, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and uncontrolled sorrow. As the door closed behind them, Carla hoped she could break through to the girl and offer the comfort she so desperately needed. It was time to confront the emotions that had been boiling just beneath the surface, and Carla was ready to lend a helping hand, despite the complexities of their intertwined lives.
Betsy slumped into the chair in Carla’s office, her fingers nervously tracing the sleeve of her oversized jumper, a physical manifestation of the anxiety roiling within her. It felt different sitting in Carla's office now—heavy and suffocating. The warmth of familiarity had been replaced with an unshakeable tension, a reality check she’d orchestrated with her reckless actions.
Carla, sensing the electric silence, moved to the coffee machine. The gentle whirring filled the space as she brewed two steaming cups. She poured the rich aroma into each cup, hoping the comfort of the beverage might bring some ease to the fraught atmosphere.
Returning to the teen, Carla set the mugs down, the warm steam curling into the air, creating a gentle ambiance. She slid into the chair beside Betsy, wishing to bridge the gap that had suddenly widened between them.
“Betsy, love, talk to me,” Carla said, her voice threaded with genuine concern.
Betsy sighed, a sharp exhalation that felt like it could release all the bottled emotions inside her, but ultimately it didn’t. “I can’t,” she replied, her voice a mere whisper, laced with desperation.
The pain in Carla's heart deepened. She leaned forward slightly, searching for the right words. “Does this have something to do with me and your mum?”
Betsy’s eyes shot up, wide and flustered, as though Carla had spoken the very thought that made her stomach twist. “No… It’s not that,” she insisted, too quickly. “I’m glad that Mum is happy. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off as she battled with her fears, grasping for the right words to convey her concern without exposing the mess she had caused.
She paused, heart pounding, knowing that once she opened the proverbial floodgates, there would be no turning back. “I know you said you wouldn’t say anything to Mum about the break-in, but she’s like a dog with a bone. She’s going to find out eventually, and she’s going to hate me.” The last words tumbled out in a rush, a waterfall of anguish and self-recrimination that left her trembling.
Carla felt the sting of Betsy’s confession, the weight of both the actions she had taken and the vulnerability she was unveiling. “Oh, Betsy, it’s not like that. Your mum may be upset, but she could never hate you. She loves you,” Carla reassured, reaching out to gently squeeze Betsy's shoulder in solidarity.
Betsy looked down at her lap, a deep frown taking residence on her face. “But I’m the reason you got hurt! The break-in… it’s my fault!”
“No, it’s not your fault. Everyone makes mistakes; it’s part of being human,” Carla said, her voice calm yet firm. “You were just trying to protect your mum in your own way. You need to be kinder to yourself, cut yourself some slack.” Her words echoed the many times she had reassured Lisa with similar sentiments.
Betsy bit her lip, holding back tears. “Being kind doesn’t change the consequences of what I’ve done.”
Carla wanted to say more—wanted to offer wisdom, to guide Betsy through the mess. “No… you’re right, it doesn’t. But maybe we can find a way to fix this together?” she suggested tentatively, a flicker of hope seeping into the somberness of the room.
“But what if she doesn’t understand? What if she turns on me?” Betsy’s voice quivered, and Carla could see the fear etched in her features.
“Your mum’s first instinct will be to talk to you, not to hurt you,” Carla stated with confidence, wanting to break through the fear clouded in Betsy’s mind. “We can figure out how to approach this together. You’re not alone in any of this.”
Betsy looked up, contemplating Carla’s words. The scent of the freshly brewed coffee wafted up between them, but even that couldn’t obliterate the tangled worries in her mind. “What if she finds out before I can tell her?”
“Then you’ll tackle it head-on. Face it together,” Carla encouraged, hoping to ignite a spark of bravery in Betsy. “I’ll be there, too, if you want me to be.”
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Betsy’s face, but it was mixed with something else—a willingness to believe that perhaps things could be okay after all. “You’d really do that? After everything i’ve put you through?”
“Absolutely,” Carla said, her tone unwavering, a lifeline thrown to a girl spiraling in uncertainty. “Despite being a constant pain in my backside, i do care about you, you know.”
A small smile found its way to the teen. “Thanks Carla.” A comfortable silence sat between them for a few moments before she was able to find the words again. “Okay,” Betsy said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll try. I just... I don’t want to lose her. I don’t want what I did to ruin things.”
And for the first time in what felt like weeks, they shared a moment of understanding—a fragile but real connection that reminded them both that they could be stronger together. With a bit of coffee warming their spirits, Betsy took a deep breath, ready, or at least willing, to face the storm.