Archive of Our Own ^beta

Vanessa almost loses her nerve.

She nearly loses her lunch, as well, but she swallows that back down and presses a hand to her queasy stomach, willing her body to hold on just a bit longer. It pushes back, swelling with hot anger and fear. Her skin feels clammy, her shirt sticking to the back of her neck under her jacket. She takes a small step back. She can leave, before anyone notices her. She can turn around now. She can-

Charity looks up from the tap, sees her, and smiles.

Vanessa’s stomach heaves again.

It’s been roiling and rebelling since her phone rang, days ago. An unknown number had flashed on the screen as she put the last of her toast in her mouth. A work call , she’d thought. She’d said her goodbyes for the day: she kissed Johnny, then Moses, on the top of the head; squeezed Noah’s shoulder and then pinched his cheek when he rolled his eyes at her; stepped in close and let Charity tip her head back and kiss her until the boys made a fuss. The same as every morning since she’d moved in.

“Vanessa Woodfield,” she said, her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she stepped out of the pub and opened her to-go canister. One sip more wouldn’t hurt.

“Vanessa Woodfield, ” a voice repeated.

She dropped her coffee, the hot liquid splashing against her trainers and jeans and burning. “How did you-”

There was a laugh - one she remembered well. “You always underestimated me, Vanessa.”

Vanessa can hear his voice again in her ear now, a hot slithering whisper she can’t escape. Do it, Vanessa. Remember what I’ve said. Remember what I can do.

“Hey, babe.” Charity leans an elbow on the bar, her smile widening some. “You’re back early, yeah? Thought you’d be stuck in Hotten for a bit longer.” She straightens up. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, mind. Only-” Charity pushes an empty pint out of her way and lifts up on her toes, peering past Vanessa. “Forget someone, babe? Or is he carrying the bags in.”

Vanessa swallows, her words stuck in her throat. “He’s with me dad,” she finally manages, closing her mouth quickly to stop the rest of what she wants to say from flooding out.

Charity’s eyes narrow in confusion. “Weren’t you meant to be bringing him home?”

“Lovely home you’ve made for yourself, Vanessa,” he’d said on the phone. His voice slid over the line like thick, choking smoke. “Bit of a change from the last time we saw each other. Though, it's hardly surprising, isn't it?”

There was coffee pooling in her trainers, quickly soaking through her socks. “Y-you’re supposed to be… How did you get this number?”

“Oh, Vanessa.” He sighed in disappointment. “I bet you thought I’d forgotten all about you, don’t you? Well, I didn’t forget about you.”

“What’s happened?” Charity is already rounding the bar, reaching for her hands. There’s a worry etched into her forehead that makes Vanessa ache. “Chas,” she calls back over her shoulder. “Can you-”

“Got it,” Chas says quickly, stepping up to the bar and taking an empty pint from someone.

Vanessa steps back. Charity stops in front of her, frowning. Something surges up in Vanessa’s chest, an urge to run her finger over the ridge of Charity’s nose and ease the lines off her face. She curls her hands into fists instead, pulling them into her sleeves.

“Babe?”

Vanessa takes a deep breath that catches halfway down her throat. “He’s fine. He’s…”

“He’s big now.”

Vanessa had seen red. “Don’t you dare.”

“Looks like his father, doesn’t he?” he asked. “Blonde, like you.”

“If you come anywhere near him, I’ll-”

“You’ll what, Vanessa?” He was amused. His voice fell to a whisper and she shivered. “Threaten me again. Expose me for the monster I am? You don’t know how much of a monster I truly can be.” He paused and her chest tightened in the silence. “But I think it’s time for you to find out.”

Charity laughed nervously, looking over her shoulder. “Spit it out, babe. You’re really starting to freak me out, yeah?”

Remember what I’ve said. Remember what I can do.

Vanessa swallows hard against the lump in her throat, the word ‘no’ tangled over and over until it’s rock solid, and she speaks.

“I’m leaving you.”

The world doesn’t stop as suddenly as she thought it would. There’s no bang. No crash. Instead, the air leaks out of the room like a hole in a tyre; slowly and slowly and slowly until it finally fizzles out and there’s nothing but the rush of blood in her own ears.

Charity laughs, sharp and shrill, cutting through the silence. “Right, babe.”

“I’m leaving,” Vanessa whispers.

“If this is your idea of a joke…” Charity smiles nervously. “Well, I’ve got to say, you’re missing the mark, kid.”

Vanessa shakes her head. “It’s not a joke.”

Charity takes another step forward. “Babe, this isn’t funny.”

“It’s not a joke,” Vanessa repeats.

She tries to remember what she had planned out, the speech she drafted in her head on the way back from Hotten. When she dropped Johnny off, nearly all of the belongings she moved into the Woolpack in boxes next to him, her dad had asked a hundred questions - What did she do to you? Tell me what’s happened, please? Why’re you crying? - and she had ignored every one of them. She kissed Johnny and promised she’d be back soon and tried not to be sick when he asked if she would bring back Charity and Moses and Noah with her.

She’ll have to practice another speech on the ride back. Something to tell Johnny, a reason why he won’t be seeing any of his favorite people again.

Charity leans away, her forehead pinched in confusion. “What’re you on about? Leaving? For what? A course, or summat?”

“Give her a reason,” he’d said. “A good one, too. One that won’t have her following after you.”

Vanessa had scowled, her hand clenched so tightly she could feel her nails cutting into her palms. “What makes you think that-”

“A shame about those trainers,” he said quietly.

She breathed in too sharply, the air like a knife in her chest. “My what?”

“Them trainers you’re wearing,” he continued. “They’ll smell like coffee for ages.”

She spun, too quickly the first time. She looked around again, trying to find him. “Where are you?”

“Oh, Vanessa. That doesn’t matter.” He paused again and Vanessa’s body tensed. “What matters is where you’re going next. And you’re going to go very, very far away from here.”

“Charity,” she says softly. “I’m leaving you.” She squeezes her eyes shut, breathing in through her nose. Lie, lie, lie , she tells herself. “There’s… There’s someone else. And I’m leaving you. For-for her.”

Charity’s face changes, confusion fading into anger. Vanessa’s hands itch. She wants to smooth out the lines of Charity’s face. She wants to press her lips to the plane of Charity’s cheek like she did this morning. She wants to go back to last night when they were lying in bed - in their bed - and Charity was pressed against her, tracing shapes against her ribs; when Charity whispered into her ear that everything was settled and they were done running uphill; when Vanessa had swallowed back the truth and kissed Charity hard instead, rolling her over and savoring the last time she would get to do this.

“Who is it?” Charity demands. Her hands flutter at her sides before she crosses her arms over her chest. “Who is she?”

“You don’t know her,” Vanessa says quickly.

Charity snorts. “Babe, I know every slapper from Robblesfield to Hotten. Been a while since I’ve been in the game, but I have my ways.”

Vanessa shakes her head. “She’s… We’re in-” She can’t say it. Not love. Not about anyone besides Charity. “We’re together. We’re going to be together.”

Charity’s eyes narrow and Vanessa squirms. Charity has a way of cutting her down to the bone and exposing all of the things she’s never wanted to tell anyone. Her mum. Karen Withers, at uni. Kirin. But Vanessa has held this thing closer, as if she knew this would happen one day. Charity looks at her now, through her, and Vanessa takes a step back from her as if it’ll help. As if Charity won’t be able to see the lie.

“Okay, wow.” Charity rolls her eyes. “Let’s assume, babe, that for a minute, you’re being serious. That you’re leaving me for some tart in Hotten.” She laughs, not believing Vanessa for a second. “You what? Packed your bags while I opened for the drayman this morning?”

She hadn’t, not everything. Not all at once. She’s just slowly picked up her life and tucked it away over the last few days. This morning, she only had just the one box left and she snuck it into the boot of her car while Charity signed for the deliveries.

“And you sent Johnny off to Hotten so you had one last thing to pack, yeah?” Charity continues. Her mouth is twisted up at the corners like she’s playing a guessing game and she’s winning.

But she’s right, really. Vanessa had arranged a last minute trip for Johnny to see his Grandad - he requested it, Charity, she had lied. And she had packed as much of his things as she could manage in one go, the missing toys not even noticed in the hustle and bustle of their home.

“What do you want from me?” she had asked. She couldn’t find him. She knew he was here; he saw her spill her coffee, but she couldn’t see him and it made her skin crawl.

“Oh, Vanessa, no. It’s not what you’re going to give. It’s what I’m going to take,” he promised.

She had swallowed so hard her throat burned. “What’re you going to take?”

“Everything .”

Charity waves a hand in the air. “And now that you’ve got your things and our son, you’re going to run off to be with some other woman, is that it? Leave your job?”

She quit it, effective immediately. Her half of the shares went back to Paddy.

“Your friends?”

She told Rhona she despised her, well and truly detested her after everything - the pills and their petty fights that she pushed aside in the name of their friendship. She knew the buttons to press and Rhona jumped like she was supposed to jump. Someday, when Rhona knows why, she might not hate Vanessa. But right now, she does.

“Your sister?”

Tracy’ll hate it. Tracy’ll demand answers. She’ll call their dad and badger him for reasons he doesn’t know how to give. He’s a stop gap, really. A quick recharge and refuel on her way to wherever she and Johnny are going to go. And once things are settled, she’ll call Tracy and explain. Tracy will forgive her, eventually.

Charity scoffs. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” she says, her voice shaking.

“Babe,” Charity says softly. Her hand is warm against Vanessa’s cheek, fingers curling behind her ear. “Babe, just tell me what’s wrong, yeah? Whatever it is… Well, you taught me, didn’t you?” She leans closer, her forehead bumping Vanessa’s. “We’ll do it together. So, just tell me, Ness. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’ll say nothing to anyone,” he warned. “But you’ll leave Emmerdale.”

She felt her jaw tighten. “I’m not leaving my family.”

“You’ll leave them,” he said again. “Or you’ll lose them instead.” He lowered his voice until it churned in her stomach. “I lost everything, Vanessa. And you helped take it away from me. Rhona pulled the trigger, but I've already got what I wanted from her, don't I. And now I’ve come to collect from you.”

She can’t tell Charity. She won’t .

Charity has been through enough, dealt with enough men who have used their words and their fists to bully her into fear. Charity deserves happiness and freedom and a life without dark shadows and darker men. She doesn't deserve this: someone else looming over her, threatening her. And certainly, not because of Vanessa .

She’ll be furious, a voice in Vanessa’s head says.

Vanessa ignores the voice. She thumbs the sleeve of her jacket. Her stomach turns and her eyes start to burn but she blinks the tears back quickly. Charity’ll know, if she cries. She’ll know something is wrong and she’ll make demands that Vanessa can’t give into. She can’t keep a part of a secret; not from Charity. Not before. Not now. And if Vanessa cracks, Charity’ll poke and prod like she’s pushing at a bruise.

Vanessa will give in. Vanessa will give in and let Charity keep guard. She’ll let Charity protect her.   No , she thinks. She needs to be the one protecting Charity this time.

Charity’ll be furious, but Vanessa will never forgive herself if Pierce gets his hands on her. So she wills herself to keep going; wills her head to ignore what her feet are trying to do - to move closer to Charity and soften the blow. No, she thinks. She’ll do this because she has to. One day, Charity will see - Vanessa is doing this for them .

It’ll still break your heart, the voice whispers.

Vanessa straightens up, lifts her chin into the air, and raises her voice, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Fine. It’s you.”

“Me ,” Charity repeats, eyes widening.

Vanessa can feel the pub pressing at her sides, every patron leaning in to listen; to eat up the destruction spilling out onto the floor underneath them.

“You’re too…” Vanessa hesitates now. It was easier to say everything else. It was easier to lie and say there was someone else; to pretend like she needed more space. But this is harder and when she opens her mouth, the words won’t unstick from the back of her teeth.

“I’m what?” Charity asks, voice hardening now.

Good, Vanessa thinks. Good. Let her be defensive .

“Well, you’re you, aren’t you?” Each word feels like a knife in her throat. “You’re too…” She swallows hard. “You’re too much.”

Someone inhales sharply off to the side.

“You’re too…”

Pierce Harris had laughed in her ear. Pierce had told her what she was going to do - and what would happen to them if she didn’t listen. Pierce had told her he didn’t like the jacket she was wearing but wouldn’t tell her where he was, watching her; watching Charity come down the stairs to kiss her; watching Johnny and Moses toddle off to nursery, holding hands as Tracy herded them down the lane; watching Noah bounce a football off the steps and kick it around her; watching her spin and spin in circles searching for him.

Pierce Harris promised to ruin her. But he couldn't, she reckoned, if she could ruin herself first.

“You’re too heavy,” Vanessa says, holding her head high. “You weigh me down. It’s constantly ‘Charity, Charity, Charity’.” She’s building steam now, picturing Pierce coming to finish the job himself. “You take all of my time and all of my energy, it’s a wonder there’s any left for the rest of us.”

Charity’s shoulders turn in and her chest heaves.

Vanessa’s stomach turns. “Of course there’s no room for your kids, or mine.” She watches the way it hits Charity in the stomach, separating Johnny from the rest of them. “Of course there’s no room for me. Not in the world of Charity. And I can’t anymore, can I? No one can. Reckon it’s why everyone has left before, isn’t it?”

She knows she’s digging. She knows she’s picking at Charity’s scabs.

She knows that Pierce would dig a knife in.

“You’re selfish and self-centered and you ruin things. I really, really don’t want you, Charity Dingle, to ruin the rest of my life.” The air is going thin in her lungs now. “Best I get out now before you twist me into whatever the hell you made Declan and Jai and Cain. Before I hate you the way your children do.”

“ Go,” Charity says, the words strangled. She holds up a hand and takes a step away from Vanessa. She staggers into Chas but rights herself, shaking her head. “Go and don’t you dare come back here.”

“I’m won’t,” Vanessa whispers.

“Go or I will drag you out of here by your hair!” Charity shouts. Her arm pulls in Chas’s hand, her thin blouse nearly sliding through Chas’s fingers as she surges forward.

Charity came running down the steps after her, hair flying as she pulled her dressing gown tighter around her middle. “Babe, you forgot something.”

Vanessa pushed her phone into her pocket, hands shaking but her voice steady. “I did?”

Charity held out a piece of paper, grinning widely. “From last night. Me and the boys…” she prompts gently.

“Oh. Oh!” Vanessa forced a smile, her mouth aching. “Right.” She held the picture out in front of her.

Charity’s arms wound around her waist, her chin digging into Vanessa’s shoulder. “That’s me,” she explained, pointing at the tallest blob on the page. “And you, of course. Johnny and Moses. Their artistry leaves a lot to be desired, but they drew Noah in the shape of a pile of laundry, so maybe they’re not all that bad.” Charity kissed below her ear. “Boys want you to hang it up at surgery, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Vanessa breathed.

Vanessa stumbles down the steps and into the car, her hands shaking as she pulls it closed behind her. She touches the picture now, taped to the dashboard. She looks in her wing mirror, at the door of the pub, her home. She could go back in there. She could pull Charity into the living room and beg for forgiveness; Charity would grant it, after a proper explanation. She could tell her everything Pierce said - every threat he made against her family - and together, they could fix it. But fixing it would take time and finding him would take longer and Vanessa can’t chance it.

She can’t chance her family.

A small voice in the back of her mind whispers. Go back. Go back, Vanessa. Take it all back. Her hand curls around the door handle and she pulls until she feels it pull back and the voice gets louder. Go, Vanessa. Go now. Go while she’s still waiting at the door for you to come back in.

Her phone chirps on the passenger seat. Say goodbye, Vanessa Woodfield .

Go back, her mind screams.

Go now, her phone beeps.

Go, go, go.

Vanessa loses her nerve.