promotion
Today had been dead quiet for Lisa. Last week, they’d cracked the Victoria Street thieves case. Monday was a slog of paperwork to tie it all up. Tuesday was proper weird—peaceful, like. No reports, not even the daft ones they had to skim just to tick the boxes. The station hadn’t been this quiet in yonks. Today, she’d been digging through old cases, chasing leads that might solve summat—give answers to families of the missing or murdered, or them who’d been robbed blind.
Her stomach was rumbling, and she reckoned a strong Americano was the only thing keeping her from nodding off before shift’s end. She fished her phone out of her back pocket and fired off a text to her girlfriend.
“Hey darling,
lunch together? I've got a mad craving to take you for a romantic kebab near the station LOL.
Get out of the house on your day off, woman!
Meet in 20 mins.
X”
She chucked the phone on her desk to catch any replies, stretched her legs, sat up proper, and turned back to the monitor. Just as she got stuck into the screen, her phone lit up.
“Who said romance is dead, eh?
Give me 25, I need to look half-decent if I’m stepping out.
X”
Lisa grinned and slid the phone back into her pocket. She flicked through notes from an interview a month back—some poor lass assaulted. Nowt new, no leads. A bit gutted but perked up at the thought of seeing Carla, even just for a bit, she switched off the computer. She was about to leg it when the door swung open. Up rocked a bloke who oozed clout—medium height, solid build. He nodded at the room and made a beeline for DS Swain’s desk.
“DS Swain…” he rumbled, voice deep as always.
“Superintendent Montgomery…” Lisa shot back, half-curious, half-on edge. What did Henry want, coming to her himself? Had she cocked up? Was she for the chop? Her head started spinning with daft worries. He cut in.
“Can we have a word?” he said, softer than usual. “…In private?” he added, clocking the nosy sods gawping at them.
“Erm, ye…” Lisa fumbled, then pulled herself together. “Yes! After you, sir.” She stood, smoothed her shirt, and tipped her head toward the staff room—usually empty, thank God.
They marched over in silence, the air thick with their presence. Before the door even shut, she caught Kit piping up “Fancy brewing some of that rank coffee from the back, don’t I?” She shot him a glare — don’t you bloody dare — and he got the hint. As she clicked the door shut, he was yammering to Craig, but she tuned it out.
“Lisa…” Montgomery started, then backtracked. “Oh, sorry... DS Swain.” He plonked himself on a chair.
“It’s fine, call me what you like,” she said with a smirk, dying to know what he was after.
“The CID down London way’s asked us to chip in on a job…” he said, all mysterious.
“Mhmmmm…” Lisa hummed, hanging on his every word.
“They want you in on it, mainly.” His words landed sharp and fast. Lisa sat up straighter, arms uncrossing without her noticing. She took a deep breath, shock fading, and said, “Oh, I’m proper gobsmacked… but I’m chuffed you trust me.”
She didn’t know how to play this—her whole career could hinge on it. “Can I hear more about the case before I sign up?” she asked, hesitant, sitting across from him as he eyed her.
“It’s organised crime. A mafia that’s slipped through the net in London and Manchester for years—they’re setting up shop here now.”
“In Weatherfield?!” she blurted, louder than she meant.
“ye, sadly,” he said, pausing for effect. “CID reckons one of the bigwigs running it’s bought a flat here, maybe to steer the whole mess from our patch.” He pressed on, seeing her hooked. “Nabbing the small fry’s done nowt to stop ‘em. They need someone undercover, someone to get close to this woman…”
“Woman?” Lisa’s ears pricked up, intrigue kicking in.
“Mhmmm... A lass runs this bloody mess. Word is, she don’t let new blokes near her—years of watching her says so. Trouble is, they’ve got no solid evidence on her or her top lot to nick ‘em. It’s like a hydra—chop off the little heads, and bigger, cagier ones sprout up. That’s how we know they’re here.” Henry was laying it on thick—this was massive, a career-maker.
“Right,” Lisa said, mind made up. She needed this—not just for the buzz she loved, or the career boost, but because smashing it could help hundreds. Mafia don’t just ruin families; they drag young, lost souls down with ‘em. She had to do it, for justice.
“What?” Henry blinked, proper thrown.
“I’m in,” she said, eyebrows up, eyes wide.
“You’ve not heard the half of it yet,” he said, brow creasing, head tilting left like always when he was caught off guard.
“I reckon I’ve heard enough. Now, sorry, but I’m off for lunch. Can we hash out the rest when I’m back? Please?” She didn’t want Carla waiting forever, but this was her boss—she kept it polite.
“Yep, no bother. Swing by my office after. Enjoy your scran.”
“Ta,” she said, hopping up and heading for the door. As she grabbed the handle, he called, “Oh, and tell Carla I hope she has a cracking day.” He grinned. Course he knew Carla Connor—who didn’t round here? Lisa smiled back.
“Will do,” she said, then scarpered.
Buzzing with excitement, she tapped out a text
“Thought that kebab’d be the highlight of me day, but I’ve got mega news now!!!
If you’re waiting, head to Roy’s. I’ll grab me kebab and meet you there.
Sorry I’m late—got held up.
X”
Carla pinged back sharpish:
“Kebab’s your big moment, eh?
You’ll be sweating apologies for that, missus! LOL
I’ve ordered your ‘fancy’ grub. Ready in 5. I’ll grab it.
Meet here if you’re quick, or…might find summat better at Roy’s.
See you, X”
Lisa chuckled—Carla’s sharp wit and soft heart got her every time. She fired back
“Can’t make it in 5, so Roy’s it is.
You forgetting I love watching women sweat? I don’t sweat.
Hope that ‘summat’ you meet knows I’ve not nicked anyone today and I’m itching to. LOL
On me way, X”
She slung her leather coat over her shoulders and legged it to Roy’s, grinning like a muppet. This day couldn’t go wrong— cracking news at work, a date with the woman she adored. Kebab, coffee, then back to the grind, and later, snuggled up with her brunette. That’s the plan, anyhow.