The Other Woman:

A/N: Written for Maisie, the start of what I might make a two/three-parter depending on whether people like the idea!

Michelle

"Then why do it?" I lean forward on the video call, folding my arms as I quiz my best mate. "Your way of pressing self-destruct again? We've been here before Carla."

"I know." She lowers her head into her hands, exhaling sharply as she tries to gather her thoughts. The last few days had been chaotic, not only physically but mentally as well. She needed time out, if only to stop her health from declining again. The last thing she needed was to have another breakdown, amongst all the drama going on. "I don't know maybe it wasn't just self-destruct..." Carla admits slowly, raising her head to notice how I was pondering the sentence. "Maybe... I don't know, things haven't been the same with me and Peter for a while... It just feels like there's no spark anymore, Chelle. And I never thought I'd say that about me and Peter but... There's no excitement. There's no sexual desire. And now there's no trust. It's hardly grounds for a stable relationship, is it?"

"...So, you're saying sleeping with Adam wasn't entirely futile?" I furrow my brow. "Maybe it's just opened your eyes to this?"

"Yeah." Carla swallows, studying me intently. "...I didn't enjoy it though. I kept wishing it would end actually... Maybe it's just men. Maybe I just need a break."

"Well that's been my motto since I left Weatherfield." I smile to myself, trying not to reveal too much. "All the men that either screwed me up or screwed me over were enough to put me off for life."

"So there still hasn't been anyone on the scene then?" Carla perks up slightly at the change in topic. "No twinkly Irishman whisked you off your feet?"

"...In the middle of a pandemic? Kidding aren't you?" I shiftily try to cover over, effortlessly triggering no further questions from Carla. "Anyway, when this is over, I'll have to pop back and see you."

"Or I'll come there." Carla fiddles with the bracelet I had sent her for her birthday. "It'd be a joy to catch up with Helen again."

"Who?" I question stupidly for a moment.

"Helen... Your mother... The woman you're staying with?"

"Oh! Yeah, course." I trip over my own words, hearing a soft call from the kitchen. "Uh, I've got to go babe, are you going to be alright?"

"Yeah I'll be fine." Carla passes over a nostalgic smile. "I miss you."

"I miss you." I return, hanging up the call and tending to the scene in the kitchen. "Hey, what's all the racket?"

"Silly beggar won't eat his beans." Vicky groans, mashing them up more and I take Sonny from her, holding him against my hip. "You give it a try, I'm sure he'll eat for you."

"Don't stress." I use my spare hand to run it through Vicky's hair, offering her a reassuring smile. "Right, are we going to eat these beans for mummy Michelle?" I hitch my voice up a few semi-tones, stirring the beans around the bowl and offering a spoonful to Sonny, which he hesitantly takes to. "Yay."

"You should sit him down, he'll want to be picked up every dinner time now. Spoilt." Vicky scalds gently, clearly not too bothered now that her son was actually eating. "Tyler!" She suddenly approaches the staircase, yelling up it. "Bring your lunch container down, I'm doing everyone's lunch for tomorrow."

"And you say Sonny's spoilt?" I arch an eyebrow cockily, taking in how our baby's long eyelashes fluttered closed as he chews on his food contently. "Our Ryan stopped getting packed lunches when he was fourteen. It was two quid for the canteen when he hit college."

"Yeah well I don't trust Tyler with two quid, else it won't be going anywhere near the canteen." Vicky flusters as she enters the kitchen again, aligning Sonny's lunchbox and filling it with the appropriate tubs of baby food ready for nursery. "I can't believe he's one in a few weeks. Where does the time go, ey?"

"Well it's been a pretty eventful year." I lower Sonny into the high chair once he has had his fill of the beans, tentatively taking a step forward to wrap my arms around my girlfriend's neck. "To say the least."

"Mm, I'm sorry, I'm being a stress head, I know." Vicky relaxes slightly in my embrace, finally meeting my eyes. I let out a low hum in agreement, wrapping a piece of her hair around my finger before slotting it behind her ear. "I hate Tuesday nights, knowing it's the only day we're both in work tomorrow, Tyler's got a full day at college, there's just so much to do."

"Well let me handle it." I rub a hand up her arm affectionately. "And you can go and run a bath."

"Chelle, I can't-"

"Uh!" I silence her, placing a finger against her lips and Vicky falls silent, studying the love in my eyes. Then I lean in, softly planting a kiss against her lips, the kind which leaves a tingling sensation afterwards, craving more. "You can and you will. You haven't stopped all day. I'll sort Tyler's lunch, and I'll put this one to bed."

"...I love you." The words emit as a whisper, affection and serenity settling around us. "Do you know that?"

"Yes I do." I laugh softly, kissing her again before tapping my girlfriend's shoulder, sending her off in the direction of the bathroom. "I love you too."


Carla

I had felt dizzy with nerves all day. At the airport, I had forgotten to remove the necklace that always set the security barriers off. On the plane, I had thrown her nuts all over the businessman next to me when his phone alarm had rang out. And now, I had forgotten the postcode to Barry and Helen's address. Only to retrieve it by finding it scrawled in Paul's handwriting on the back of the small photographic print of our wedding day that I still kept in my wallet. Thankfully, they had never moved house.

It was when I studied the photo in the back of the taxi, looking down at Paul's smiling face as he was drowned in confetti, that I realised how much I missed him. I missed him, I missed Liam, I missed Michelle. And despite everything, I missed what we used to be. The rough kids of the estate who never took any prisoners, who would throttle anyone who laid a finger on Michelle. Paul slamming Dean against the wall when he was sixteen years old, Liam demanding to know why he slept with his underage sister, me holding Michelle in the corner of the room, promising her it would be ok, willing her to phone her mum and tell her about the pregnancy.

A piece of me was missing in Devon, and a part of me was missing now. All because of her. She had always been there, all my life. Putting distance between us made the hard days tougher and the tears I cried wetter. I just wanted her to hold me. Make all the guilt and the hurt and the confusion go away. The way it always did.

Taking in the cream coloured house that I hadn't been outside of in years, I notice how the rose bushes seemed brighter, the vegetable patch more full, the paint on the fence fresher than what I remembered. To say the least, Barry and Helen had really promoted themselves from their flat on the estate. Then again, we all had. Except for maybe Rob.

I swallow against the lump in my throat before knocking on the door. I'd kept it a surprise, desperate to see the excitement in Michelle's expression for myself. I could bet that after months on end stuck inside with her parents, she would be desperate for alternative company.

The door opens, Helen's piercing eyes falling upon her in shock. "...Carla?" She opens the door a little wider, taking in her ex daughter-in-law. "What in the heavens are you doing here?"

"...I've come to see Michelle." I try to keep my tone bright, if only so Helen would give me a bed for the night. It was common knowledge that we hadn't always seen eye to eye, and I was far from being Helen Connor's favourite person.

"Michelle isn't here." She puts bluntly, seeming surprised at the assumption.

"Oh... Has she gone for a walk?" I gaze around, my eyes skirting the wood on the other side of the road.

"No... Michelle doesn't live with us..." Helen pauses, weighing up my expression. She knew something I didn't, and I could tell she was eager to expose it. "She lives with Vicky."

"Vicky?" The word falls out of my mouth, furrowing my brow at the memory of the woman who carried Robert's baby behind Michelle's back.

"Vicky Jefferies." Helen prompts, as if I wasn't aware, before dropping the ultimate punchline, "she's Michelle's girlfriend."


It's only short because I kinda wanted to throw the idea out there. Love u Mais xxx