Chapter Text
“Nice of you to join us.” Sarah teased impatiently as Carla walked into her office with a takeaway coffee in hand. She continued when she received no reply from her boss, only a glare. “Ryan’s brought some post in for you but before you get to that, can I show you this new idea I’ve had?” She asked, gesturing to a large board covering Carla’s desk.
“Have I got a choice?” Carla asked, taking her seat. She looked down at the mood board Sarah had created, littered with risqué images and sensual scenes. “Tell me this isn’t a preview of your new side hustle Sarah.”
“Oi!” Sarah scoffed. “It’s the new line I’ve been telling you about. I know you’re not much into the creative side of Underworld-“
“I can be creative.” Carla said defensively, studying the pictures.
“…I wanted your input anyway.” Sarah continued, resting against the edge of the desk. “It’s called ‘What’s your fantasy?’. It’s all about proper sexy lingerie, rather than the functional stuff we’ve been doing for a while.”
“And your fantasy is skimpy little knickers, eh? Always thought you were more about blokes.” Carla joked, running her fingers over a scrap of dark blue silk stuck to the board.
Sarah decided not to respond, not wanting to give Carla the satisfaction. “It’s about women exploring, getting in touch with their sensual side, having the confidence to wear something that makes them feel in control.” She explained, pointing to one of the pictures. “For example, this sheer bodysuit.” Sarah said, lips quirking with a playful smile.
Carla looked amused for a moment. She lifted her head and opened her mouth. “You know, once, me and Peter, we-“ Carla cut herself off. She looked down into her lap.
She was about to tell Sarah about the last time she’d snuck a sample home from the factory and surprised Peter with it. About the way his face dropped, the way he was wrapped around her little finger for the evening. That was the last time she felt truly in control. Instead of exciting her, the memory hurt, leaving her with an empty feeling.
“Actually that’s ancient history, isn’t it? Never mind.” Carla said, picking at her finger nails. “I like the line. I think, anyway. But you’re right, I need to get creative. I’ll get back to you about my fantasy.” She said, sipping her coffee.
Sarah nodded, although that wasn’t exactly what she had asked for, and took the board from her desk. “There’s the letter Ryan brought over.” She said, gesturing to a thick envelope on the desk.
As Sarah was leaving the room, Carla slipped her finger beneath the flap of the envelope, dragging it along to tear it open. She pulled the papers out, reading through them with a thick swallow. It didn’t take long for her to realise these were divorce papers - after all, she had seen enough of them. There on the last page was Peter’s signature, and a space left for her own. She put the papers back inside the envelope then dropped it into her handbag.
Carla had been expecting the documents for a while, and had been tentatively looking forward to the freedom of being divorced again. She had already changed her name, and she often toyed with removing her wedding ring. Despite all of that, she felt shocked and upset at the confirmation of another failed relationship in black and white. The empty feeling grew, souring her memory of him once again.
Carla muddled through the rest of the work day, wanting to forget about all of this. She packed up her things early and headed to the pub. She stood at the bar, arms crossed while she waited for Daisy to serve another punter. She heard her name called out and turned.
“Are you on your own?” Lisa asked, scooping up a final forkful of hotpot.
Carla winced at her poor choice of words, but she wasn’t to know. “Why, are you looking for some company?” She asked.
Lisa shrugged. “Betsy’s picked the cinema over me and I’ve got half a bottle of white wine left, if you’ve got a glass.” She said before putting the food in her mouth.
Carla nodded. She turned and fetched a glass from Daisy then slipped into the booth opposite Lisa. Her gaze caught for a moment on Lisa’s silky blue shirt, reminding her of Sarah’s mood board from earlier.
Lisa slid her empty plate to the end of the table and picked up the wine. Her fingers gripped the neck of the bottle tightly while she unscrewed the lid. Her grip loosened and she tipped the wine. She swished her ponytail as she handed the glass to Carla.
Carla took it from her hand, their fingers brushing gently. She sipped the wine, then her eyes fell to the label on the bottle. It was the same wine she had been drinking at a conference in Birmingham a few weeks ago, bought for her by an attractive man who owned a rival factory somewhere down south.
Her fingers had brushed his when he passed her the glass. She had laughed at his rubbish jokes, gazed at him when his hand finally grazed her thigh, and complimented him when he left her unsatisfied in bed later that evening. Perhaps these days, her fantasy was having an orgasm in bed with someone, not hunched over in the en suite ten minutes after he had fallen asleep.
“Busy day?” Lisa asked. She was comfortable with the silence, but Carla wasn’t usually so quiet.
Carla sighed. She didn’t want to burden Lisa with the divorce. It felt wrong to complain when Lisa had lost her wife so tragically. “Sarah’s got me trying to be creative at work. It’s not really my thing. I’m more… spreadsheets and numbers.” She said.
“I wouldn’t have guessed. You always dress so well, I can imagine you right at the heart of the design process.” Lisa answered, her finger tracing the stem of her glass in a slow, steady rhythm.
“I dress well on the outside… how do you know I haven’t got a pair of big old granny pants on under here, eh?” She teased. Carla hadn’t expected the sudden rush she felt at anticipating Lisa’s reaction to that comment.
Lisa cleared her throat, hoping a blush wasn’t forming on her cheeks. “I’d be quite surprised if that was the case.” She said, avoiding Carla’s gaze by looking into her wine glass. “Your job must come with perks, surely you get to take some extra stock home. All I get for free at the station are a few pens and some blu tack if I’m lucky.” She swished her hair again, regaining her composure.
Carla shook her head. “I don’t take from my own supply. I much prefer the profit.” She explained. “Besides, no one’s going to see it these days.” She muttered.
Lisa raised an eyebrow. She was intrigued, but she decided to let it lie. She knew this kind of routine - a straight woman fishing for a compliment. She decided to put a stop to it before the conversation could veer in that direction. “What time’s your hearing tomorrow?” She asked.
The rush Carla had been feeling disappeared. “That’s a bit of a mood killer.” She said. Lisa shrugged in response. “I don’t know, ten, half ten. Something like that.” Carla added.
“You should find out. The judge won’t be impressed if you’re late.” Lisa commented.
“Oh don’t be so serious.” Carla said, finishing off her glass of wine.
“It’s quite a serious day, Carla.” Lisa reasoned.
Carla looked away for a moment. “I don’t need you telling me how serious it is. You know what was serious? What that nasty little beggar did to Roy.” She snapped.
Lisa was surprised by Carla’s harsh tone, her mouth left slightly open. “Carla, I was only-“ Lisa began.
“Forget it, DS Swain. Thanks for the drink.” She said, standing and grabbing her heavy bag.
“Carla…” Lisa said, but it was too late, Carla was gone.
On her way home, Carla wanted to be annoyed about Lisa’s comment. Instead, she found her frustration was much more focused on that soft blue blouse and the light blush on Lisa’s cheeks in response to her pathetic attempt at flirting.