night out
Since Tuesday evening, both women’s lives had gone back to a more normal routine.
Early mornings, quick brekkies, Carla waking up Betsy, women having a laugh about how long she took in the bathroom, leaving the flat together, dropping Carla off at the factory, heading to the station, work. Then apart, each family member in their own spot. Lisa at the station, Carla at Underworld, Betsy - sometimes at uni, sometimes at Underworld, but mostly mucking about with Mason and his mates. Ryan at the gym or in Rovers. Weekend rolled round.
Saturday, the first day when Lisa’s world and routine were set to change completely. The late morning passed dead calm; she proper loved their lazy Saturday mornings. They went to Nick’s for dinner as a family. As the day wore on, Lisa started fretting more and more about how to tell Carla she had to go out to work. It was Saturday. The Saturday she’d promised after the shooting - where Betsy got hurt - that she’d have off for them. It was her demand at work, and they’d sorted it. Sundays often went hand in hand with free Saturdays - though not always. She’d got used to it being their day.
A day for the family. A day off. A day of rest. A day when she could chill out mentally, physically, and just be there for her lot.
After getting back from Nick’s, Lisa vanished into the bedroom, then the bathroom. Carla wasn’t too shocked that Lisa was dead quiet today. Some days, her dissociation just took over. For Carla, what mattered was that Lisa didn’t leg it from her or their loved ones. She got that she needed time and space and gave her as much as she wanted. After getting back from Nick's, she stuck the kettle on and plonked down on the settee with Betsy and Ryan, putting on another episode of Friends. Carla and Lisa were dead keen on showing the kids proper sitcom classics, and Friends was one of the top ones they HAD to see. When Lisa came out of the bedroom, everyone in the living room started giving her the once-over.
“Didn’t know we were off out, but alright… give me a sec to make meself look half decent next to you,” Carla mumbled, clocking the shorter woman stood in front of her.
Lisa leaned against the doorframe. “We’re not going out,” she said, dropping her eyes to her feet, “well, I mean… aye… erm… I’m off out on me own.” She looked up at the three still sat on the settee, proper worried about what they’d say.
“You what?” Betsy piped up first. “Who are you and what’ve you done with me stiff, housebound mam?” She squinted at her, giving her a dead curious look like never before.
“Hilarious,” Lisa shot back straight off.
“Lisa, you alright?” Ryan chipped in quick. “Last time I saw you like this…” his hand waved at how she was stood, “…was in Rovers when you were toasting Bex.” A day to remember, no doubt.
“Uhm…” When Carla finally picked her jaw up off the floor, she got up and went over to Lisa, taking a proper look at the blonde. She started clocking the details.
Loose, wavy hair falling just right on her shoulders. A delicate silver necklace with a dragonfly pendant round her neck. White tank top under a white mesh long sleeve. Rings on nearly every finger - proper new, that. The only finger bare was the one where an engagement ring should’ve been. Says a lot, that. Black linen wide - leg trousers. Heavy platform boots finished it off. In them, Lisa was taller than Carla. A sight that proper took your breath away. Getting closer, Carla spotted summat dead unusual for Lisa. Makeup.Painted eyelids, mascara on her lashes, soft lines, lip gloss, a bit of blusher on her cheeks, and contouring so subtle you’d miss it if you didn’t know her face. She didn’t know what was up, but seeing Lisa like this knocked her for six.
She put her hands on the hips of the now taller lass. “Dunno what’s going on, but if you fancy going out and being on your own, I’m not stopping you.”
God, she’s a bloody angel Lisa thought.
“If you need me to fetch you, give us a bell and have a good time, love,” Carla added, planting a soft kiss on the blonde’s cheek.
“Have you gone daft?” Ryan blurted.
“I trust her, Ryan, and it’s nowt to do with you - keep your nose out of it,” Carla snapped.
“She’s gone daft,” Betsy nodded at Ryan, though no one was sure which one she meant.
“I’ve not gone daft, ta very much, Ryan - that’s dead nice of you. She’s not gone daft either,” Lisa fired back, sharp and to the point.
Carla knew - DS Swain mode was on, but the look didn’t match what she was seeing.
“I’ll be back soon, promise love” Lisa said, leaning in and kissing Carla proper. She felt Carla’s arms wrap round her waist and warm breath on her neck.
“If this is your new way of doing a runner, watch yourself, Swain…”
“I’m not doing a runner, calm down, I just need a breather,” Lisa said, smooth as owt. She thought so, anyway. She snuggled into Carla more, loving the moment and making a quiet promise. Carla caught a whiff of summat she’d not smelled in ages. Lisa’s old perfume. Bergamot and patchouli, mixed. Soft and bloody addictive. She’d swapped that scent right after the Mason mess.
Interesting.
“Bets, behave. Me not being here doesn’t mean Carla can’t do what I would - got it?”
“yeaah… you’re mucking up me viewing,” Betsy grumbled.
“See you, Ry.” One last time, Lisa leaned into Carla and gave her the hardest kiss she could muster, knowing they had an audience. “Catch you later.”
“See you, Lisa.” The blonde slung her long black coat over her shoulders and headed out. When the door slammed shut, Carla turned to Ryan and Betsy. “Pizza? At last, no one’ll whinge about pineapple on it.”
“Hell yeaaaaaa!” classic Betsy.
Carla tried to keep calm and not overthink what had gone down in the flat. She trusted her. She knew Lisa wouldn’t do owt daft or owt that’d put any of them at risk. After a few episodes of Friends and far too many slices of quattro formaggi pizza, she reckoned it was time for bed.
She said sorry to the younger, more lively pair and trudged off to the bedroom. She grabbed her phone, hoping for a message from Lisa, but there was nowt. Before starting her night routine, she took charge.
“Hey you,
I’m just off to bed, but don’t forget the lift offer. Ring when you need me.
I love you Lisa,
X”
She sent it and headed to the bathroom. Grabbed her satin pajamas and went for a hot bath, trying to quiet her racing thoughts and unwind. Washed her face, slapped on some creams, moisturized, slipped into her pajamas, and went back to the bedroom. Getting into bed and pulling the duvet up, she felt the loneliness hit hard.
Empty bed.
Lisa’s spot cold.
The right side freezing.
Summat she’d not felt in months. She flicked on the bedside lamp and checked her phone for the time and any reply from Lisa. Nowt. Took a deep breath, picked up her book Before the Coffee Gets Cold, and tried to focus on the words to tire herself out. After a few chapters, she started nodding off.
Eyes got heavy, sentences stopped making sense. She didn’t even clock when she drifted off over the book, lamp still on.
--------------------
Lisa was stood at the bar in a packed club. Taking a breather, she pulled out her phone and saw unread messages. First from Carla
“Hey you,
I’m just off to bed, but don’t forget the lift offer. Ring when you need me.
I love you Lisa,
X”
It’d come nearly an hour ago. Bugger, she’d missed it.
Second from Kit
“Hey sarge,
Just checking you’re alright. Give us a shout if you need owt.
~ Green”
That was three minutes old. She tapped out a quick reply:
“All good, Green,
We’ll keep in touch.”
She shoved the phone in her back pocket and ordered another double whisky with ice. Leaning on the bar, music thumping in her ears, she clocked a tune Betsy had played in the car once. As the verse ended, her eyes met a lass sat across the bar.
She was a tall brunette with green eyes. Strong jaw, sharp cheekbones - Lisa’s mind shot straight to Carla. STOP.
Not now.
Not here.
Quick note: upper lip a bit to the left, left eye slightly right. That’s all she could tell from this far, not seeing her full frame.
They swapped smiles. Lisa got up and walked round to the other side of the bar, straight to the intriguing brunette.
“This seat free?” Lisa nodded at the spot next to her.
“Can’t hear you,” the brunette yelled, leaning over on her stool, her loose top slipping to show more cleavage.
“Asked if it’s free,” Lisa said, leaning into her ear.
“Depends who’s askin’, doesn’t it?” She pulled back, tilting her head so their eyes locked.
“Lisa,” she said, sticking out her hand.
“Deb,” the lass replied, shaking it and shoving the bar stool next to her toward Lisa. “Sit down.” Bossy tone. Dead familiar, Lisa thought.