Chapter Text
‘Lisa. Lisa…Can we talk? Can we talk?’
‘I’m in the middle of something.’
But Carla persisted.
‘I’ll wait. We need to speak about last night.’
Lisa stalled, weighing up her limited options; carry on regardless and prolong the awkwardness, or simply get it over with. She opted for the latter. And so she led her to the seldom used training room complete with dodgy coffee machine. At least she was on her own turf.
‘You’ve been avoiding me.’ Carla said, making herself small as she sat in a flimsy plastic chair.
‘I have yeah.’
She’d never seen her look sheepish before. It was strangely endearing.
‘So you what, you think I’m a tourist right?’
‘Don’t go putting words into my mouth but, yeah…tourist sums it up nicely.’
‘Surely that -’
‘Look Carla, I’m….I’m being transferred, effective immediately.’
‘What? Why?’
Lisa wasn’t sure what to say. She was still in shock herself.
‘There’s a lot of reasons, and they only needed one. Going into the factory alone was the final straw…so.’
She turned up her hands, avoiding her eyes. But now Carla was standing, slowly walking towards her with concern.
‘You’re being transferred because of me?’
‘No, of course not. I knew it was coming. If it hadn’t been yesterday it would have been something else.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Maybe... maybe a fresh start for me and Betsy isn’t such a bad thing. And a few weeks apart might help us draw a line under last night. We can meet up for a coffee when I’m settled. If you want to…’
She was surprised by the obvious disappointment on Carla’s face. By the desperate way she was wringing her hands.
‘Where are you going?’
Lisa took a deep breath.
‘A nick just outside Liverpool.’
‘Liverpool?’
‘It’s not the moon Carla.’
‘What about Betsy’s college?’
‘She’ll find somewhere else…not like she was applying herself anyway - look Carla, none of this is your fault or your problem ok? It’s my own mess. I’ll make the most of it.’
Carla reached out and touched her arm soothingly, allowing her hand to stay there. Lisa looked at the caring fingers curled around her. Found she couldn’t pull her eyes away.
‘I’m sorry. I just…I don’t want you to go. I thought we were…’
‘Thought we were what?’ Lisa looked up at her with a sharp tilt of the head. Straight birds, she thought to herself. Their assumptions and their flirting. Their lingering touches. Always hovering around lines without actually crossing them.
But Carla was braver than that. She liked that about her.
‘I thought we were important to each other. And I want that.’
Lisa softened.
‘Yeah. Me too. Could do with a friend right now... No more bumping into each other at Roy’s I suppose…but look, you can buy me dinner as a housewarming gift, we’ll meet halfway. How does that sound?’
Carla smirked.
‘Ill hold you to that…and I’d give you a hug but -’
‘Eh, no. Thank you.’
She gave her a juvenile thumbs up instead. Lisa melted a little at how cute it was. Remembered the rush of gazing into her eyes the night before.
*****************************
They both tried. They met for coffee once. Had a bizarre and very sober dinner at a hotel in the middle of nowhere. But the ease they once shared had been replaced by something else. Something exciting but fraught. There were too many gaps to communicate with the ease they shared before.
Lisa missed her. More than she cared to admit.
Carla felt the same, but couldn’t find the words.
Then the weeks rolled on and turned to months.
One tipsy night, drinking alone at the dining table, Carla left her a voice message.
‘Hey Lisa, it’s me. I know you’re probably out catching the baddies and things you know, but em... I’d love to catch up sometime. I…I miss you, you know. I need to talk. I need to try and explain. I can come to you, just let me know the time and place. You’re always…you’re on my mind you know that right? God…that’s a song in’t it? Erasure or Pet Shop boys? Can’t remember….Anyway. Reckon I should stop now. Just…just call me. I need to hear your voice. I need to tell you something.’
And that was it. The last piece of communication they ever had. Lisa simply stopped returning her texts. It kept Carla awake at night. Until she met a random bloke at the Rovers. A cop. He was good looking. He seemed nice enough. And so she took him home to help her forget.
*************************************************
One Year Later
Lisa pulled a yellow highlighter across the call logs. Carefully, she placed the document down and scanned the room she’d become all too familiar with; box files of case notes stuffed onto inadequate shelving, half filled mugs, hastily written reminders to turn things off. And the surrounding staff hunched over, lanyards dangling as they stumbled to the weekend. Same story, different place. But it had been over a year now, and she was no longer the new girl. In that time she had added precisely nothing to her life. It was all, in the end, an undignified act of casting off.
‘Are you going to that thing tonight boss?’ Fiona asked from nowhere.
Lisa didn’t take her eyes from the spreadsheets. Scanned her data as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. She spoke so softly it was almost impossible for her colleague to pick up what she was saying.
‘The awards do? I need to make an appearance at some point, yeah.’
She knew it would probably do her good to get out, relax amongst other grown ups. And she liked Fiona - no ambition, no drama. Strong though. Just a direct mum of three who enjoyed her life, her looks and her work. Lisa found that remarkable.
‘Well, me too. They’ve sent an email. Out of respect we’re being asked to go in uniform.’ Fiona scoffed at her screen. Tapped an irate pen against a yellow pad. ‘I mean you’d think they might have given us more warning. Mine needs cleaning. The last time I rolled it out was for Brian’s birthday.’
‘Eh, too much information, thank you very much!’ Lisa’s mock disgust was playful, the most animated she had been in days. Fiona was the only woman she felt close enough to joke with since her move from Weatherfield. The others had pulled back when the whispers did the rounds - lesbian, dead wife, estranged daughter. They still sought her approval, and tried to curry favour to advance their own careers. But get to know her? See her as a human being and not a shopping list of defects? Only Fiona who had permitted her that privilege.
‘Fiona…can we meet up before we go tonight? Maybe sit together?’
Her expression was pleading, a little pathetic. Out of nowhere the image of an old friend crossed Lisa’s mind - a smiling face, trying to convince her of her own worth. In a fraction of a second it disappeared. She knew from experience it was pointless to try and hold onto it. Her memories were beginning to fade. How long until she completely forgot what she looked like? Would that be a blessing or a curse?
‘Course we can.’ Fiona said.
‘Thank you. I’ll see you later.’
Lisa stood, smoothed down her black shirt, flicked her ponytail from her coat. Briefly, she considered how relieved her colleagues must be when she left a room. The cloud of misery she carried wasn’t easy to witness, much less interact with on a daily basis. She worried about that. She didn’t care about herself, because she was beyond redemption. But it pained her to think she polluted the air around everyone else.
Out in the bracing afternoon drizzle, she gave herself permission to switch off, even get ridiculously drunk if she felt like it.
****************
‘Nathan love… if this thing kicks off at seven, aren’t we a bit early?’
Carla was angling for a pre-event drink. She would need it. A room full of cops talking shop and the promise of lengthy acceptance speeches filled her with dread. She had tried to get out of the evening, but Nathan insisted. She found it sweet that he was desperate to show her off.
‘Yeah but…pays to arrive early at these things. Mingle and do a bit of networking. Can you sort this?’
He approached her with his chin up, tie crooked. She pulled at his shirt, overwhelmed by the abundance of his cologne, her affection almost maternal as she began threading the tie into position.
‘There we go. All sorted.’
She let her fingers pat the knot playfully. Tried to create a teasing moment by locking her eyes with his.
‘Ta.’
She knew the only reason she had let herself fall into the arms of a police officer was to try and banish the memory of another one. It hadn’t worked. But at least the pain was starting to fade. She couldn’t play their exchanges in detailed sequences any longer. Couldn’t quite picture her fingers caressing a wine glass or bring to mind her startled eyes right before she fled that evening she had monumentally fucked up. There was sadness there, but mostly she felt a sense of relief that she could no longer torment herself in technicolor detail.
‘I’ll just nip to the loo then we’ll head out, yeah?’ He said.
Carla smiled, because she wasn’t really sure what to say to that. While he was gone she checked her phone to find a text from Ryan.
‘Have a nice night with ‘Nice Nathan’. Be nice to catch up tomorrow. Roy’s for breakfast?’
She rolled her eyes in disapproval of the nickname, but secretly she enjoyed each and every time Ryan used it.
‘Piss off you. See you at 9.30.’
*************************
Fiona awkwardly jostled through the Friday night crowd of their preferred pub with two large wines and packet of dry roasted between her teeth. She placed the cool glass in front of Lisa with giddy abandon.
‘Oh my god I can’t tell you how exciting this is. If someone had told me years ago my weekends would be wall to wall kids parties I’d have thought twice about having three. Five between them this weekend. It’s a nightmare.’
Lisa laughed.
‘You love it really. What I wouldn’t give to go back to all that…Thanks for this. My round next.’
Fiona settled herself, picked at some fluff on the neat trousers of her uniform.
‘I feel ridiculous out in public like this. Thank fuck we found a table in the corner. We’d be lucky to make it there alive otherwise.’
Lisa smiled, raised her glass.
‘To unreasonable demands and our inability to swerve them.’
Fiona scoffed, raised her glass, then took a long drink of her wine.
‘So…how’s your love life? Did you go on that app we were talking about last time or what?’
‘Wow. That didn’t take long did it?’
Lisa screwed her face, felt the skin at her wrists stick to the table as Fiona ripped open the nuts. She inhaled more of her drink and shook her head sadly, looked to the side at a group of young men laughing loudly at each other and something on one of their phones.
‘Not for me. I mean, I did have a look but…I just don’t think…This one woman had a list of her favourite kinds of cheese instead of a bio.’
Fiona snorted with glee.
‘That’s fair. Cheese is wonderful stuff.’
‘Yeah. Cheese is great. But is it the most prominent feature in your life? A way to showcase yourself to a potential mate?’ Lisa creased her palm and poured in a bundle of peanuts before snapping her head back. Crunched thoughtfully and wiped her palms together. ‘No. I’ve got my job. My random emails from Bets. You. What else does a girl need eh?’
There was an awkward pause as FIona let the humour fade, keeping herself quiet to make space for Lisa’s sadness at the table.
‘It’s ok you know. To want more than that. Most people do. Apart from anything else it’s a tragic waste…I mean, come on, you’re gorgeous Lisa. It’s literally a crime that you’ve been single this long. Has there really never been anyone since…since you lost your wife?’
Lisa grabbed at her glass then. Looked nervously around while holding back the words. There had been someone. Or something. But it wasn’t really anything. After her next desperate sip she realised what she was about to do, and that she was going to enjoy articulating it more than expected.
‘There was someone. I mean it wasn’t…it was nothing really. Nothing happened. But I still dream about her every now and then.’
Fiona took a deep breath and encased LIsa’s hand with her own. She’d never done that before. She was not usually a tactile person at all. Lisa was suddenly appalled at herself, felt the unmistakable sting of tears in her eyes.
‘Look - this thing starts at seven but nothing ever kicks off on time. Why don’t I get us a bottle yeah? You can tell me all about her. It’s time Lisa. We’ve been good mates at work for months, but I need more to go on now if you want a proper friend. I need to know what’s going on in that head of yours.’
********************************
For the love of god. It was seven thirty now and nothing appeared to be happening. The conference room was a stale arena, lit by fake candles, shrouded in velvet curtains to lend a touch of glamour. Carla was not impressed. There were two dozen round tables, mostly filled with aging white males pumped up on their own self importance. Some were in suits, some were in uniform. All were smug and self satisfied. Only a handful of the officers were female. There were a few wives there too, who looked as bored by the proceedings as she was.
It had occurred to her in the taxi there was an outside chance she might actually be here. As she sank the remains of yet another wine Carla shook her head to free her mind from this well worn terrain. She ghosted you, remember? Ignored that last emotional message completely. Get a fucking grip of yourself. If she did ever see her again, the only thing she intended to do was give her a piece of her mind. Of all the things that had ever happened to her, Lisa’s silence was one of the most painful. She hated where these thoughts led, hated lingering with the memory of her for too long. She almost slammed her glass down as Nathan approached with their next drinks.
‘How’s the networking going?’ She said flatly.
‘Yeah. Good, I think. Hard to tell sometimes with the higher ups, you know.’
Carla offered a tight smile to her beige boyfriend. He was fine. Decent. Attractive, stable and thoughtful. Really good at the practicalities. He had never once been late, never once made her feel bad about herself. And yet, sometimes when he spoke, she felt capable of extreme violence.
‘I was thinking, we could go for lunch tomorrow, get some shopping in. Have a nice meal with a film later on?’
She smiled vaguely, let her nose twitch and raised the glass to her lips.
‘Sounds good.’
And this, this was the problem. She could play out the next day in her head. Feel the almost satisfying exchange they would have over some dull as fuck lunch. Feel the cool in the aisle where they would discuss what meal deal to select (go between steak or some chicken lattice thing as she tried to talk herself out of clawing her own eyeballs). The ooze of despair would bury into her as they watched some dire thriller before the inevitable - a perfunctory exchange in bed that would leave her feeling nothing at all. Nothing apart from self-loathing.
She’d decided to end it weeks ago. But here she was…
He was still talking.
‘I want to watch that thing everyone’s been talking about… what’s it called? The one with that guy?’
She sighed, looked at him blankly.
‘It’ll come back to me in a bit.’ He said, reaching for his pint.
Carla looked at her hands. First at the knuckles, then at the protruding veins. She let her right index finger circle the centre of her left upturned palm. Hands can’t lie about their age. Still early fifties. Soon enough, almost mid fifties. So approaching sixty in the not too distant future. But obviously not. Only five years ago she’d been 46…so…Do all humans play these little age games, she wondered to herself, as Nathan continued to say things. He was trying to recount the plot of the film he couldn’t remember the name of.
Thankfully, someone took to the stage. Some gorgeous woman in a red dress who had presented a few things on telly was to be the compere.
‘Good evening. And welcome to the annual awards ceremony for recognition of our finest police work in the North West. It really is my honour and a privilege to host this…’
Carla zoned out. She felt Nathan’s hand take hers. The cold residue from his pint glass sent a shiver right through her.
Then she turned towards a noise from the entrance, saw two figures arriving late, giggling and lightly holding each other. The one facing her was a tall redhead, intelligent eyes glinting with a sorry, not sorry expression at the heads they had turned. The other one, the one turned away…she was short enough, blonde enough. A similar stance. Carla’s pulse quickened when her smiling profile slowly came into view. And then familiar, captivating eyes immediately locked with hers. She watched as she froze to the spot, her face falling into a serious repose with the instant flare of recognition. Carla realised, when Nathan leaned over to ask if she was ok, that for far too long a time she had been staring at Lisa Swain.
It was Carla who pulled away first, trying desperately to calm her body. She cleared her throat, felt the heat rise to her neck. Took a long drink and tried to keep her focus on the stage. Moments later, she stole a fleeting glance to where Lisa was seated at the fringes of the room. Was rewarded with a hopeful, mesmerising smile. She’d forgotten how beautiful she was. But she fought with everything she had, and managed to keep her own expression blank before turning away.