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1. Office politics
Lisa rolled her eyes as she walked into the CID office at the station to find it had been assaulted overnight with an assortment of tinsel, baubles and all manner of gawdy festive monstrosities. Someone had even had the temerity to festoon her desk with the offensive objects, despite her channelling the personality of the Grinch and Scrooge combined since her ‘almost moment’ with Carla had so spectacularly imploded their ability to act like rational human beings around one another. Stomping to her seat, she threw down her handbag before reaching for the bin beside her desk. The Santa figurine threatening to drop his trousers was the first to be relocated to the rubbish recepticle, swiftly followed by the annoying snow globe that played an off tune version of a carol whenever someone even glanced its way. Fuckers knew exactly what they were doing, putting the most irritating and inappropriate props on her desk. They’d soon be laughing from the other side of their faces if she determined just which of them was responsible. Every single one of these atrocities would be inserted where the sun didn’t shine, fresh batteries installed for prolonged discomfort.
“Sarge, that’s a bit uncharitable, isn’t it?” Kit smirked as he strolled in and saw the unravelling of Christmas lights from around the DS’s computer monitor in progress.
“I could report whoever did this for bullying in the workplace since I notice no one else’s desk has received this treatment.” The tilt of the head and eagle eyed glare suggested there was a question in there, or maybe more accurately an accusation.
“Maybe no one else here is in need of an injection of the festive spirit. Maybe the rest of us aren’t wandering around like a black cloud on a sunny day. Come on Sarge, what’s it gonna take to put a smile on that face, eh?” Kit came to stand by the desk, looking up pointedly at the mistletoe hung above Lisa’s chair, too far up for her to reach and snatch it down.
“So much as think about that and you’ll be singing soprano in the police choir, DC Green. Get that down now and we’ll say no more about it but if I ever encounter you under a sprig of mistletoe again, you’ll find yourself on a charge of sexual harassment. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal, Sarge,” Kit grumbled as he snatched the offending item off the ceiling, stuffing it into his pocket with a scowl. In case her words hadn’t in fact made it clear, the fierce glare he received until he unpocketed the mistletoe and added it to the collection in her bin certainly did.
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2. Join the Club
She was only there to drop Betsy off for work, desparately seeking to be in and out before Carla spotted her and they were forced to endure another awkward semi-polite conversation about the weather or some such banal nonsense. But no, that was too much to ask fate apparently because here she was, cornered by the monotonous Kirk who, in spite of her feeling she had been pretty unequivocal in her rejection of his invitation, was still wittering on to her about his tragic singles club.
“We need more women to balance it out, otherwise there’s gonna be no point. Do you know any other single women who might be interested in joining? So far there’s only Izzy, Summer and Amy. Ryan’s still working on Carla being there but that would be weird, dating the boss.”
In spite of herself, Lisa couldn’t suppress the scoff at the mere idea of someone as vibrant and stunning as Carla being paired with Kirk, loveable oaf that he may be. Carla would eat him alive and spit him back out again. “No, I don’t know any other single women who might want to join your club. And once again, it’s not really my scene so I’m afraid I won’t be attending either. Good luck though.” As she turned to leave, she heard the shrill voice of Sally Metcalfe drawing her attention to what she considered some unfinished business.
“You can’t stand chatting beneath the mistletoe and not give him a kiss. That’s really bad luck, you know.”
Lisa rolled her eyes skyward, wondering if it was possible or permissable to extend her asp and remove the offensive weed from the doorway she had found herself trapped in. “That’s a chance we’ll have to take I’m afraid. Duty calls.”
“Kirk, am I paying you to stand around organising your social life or am I paying you to do some actual work?” Carla snapped as she swept in, heading for the very same doorway that Lisa and Kirk were currently blocking.
“Not so fast, Mrs Connor, these two are under the mistletoe,” Sally crowed, completely ignoring Lisa’s previous dismissal of any obligation where that was concerned.
“Is that so?” There was a definite twinkle of amusement beneath the irritation as Carla cottoned on to Lisa’s predicament. “Come on then, get it over with so we can all go about our business.”
“What? No, I…” Lisa’s words were silenced by Kirk planting a quick kiss on her cheek before skipping off with a definite spring in his step. “Why does everyone seem to think it acceptable to promote unwanted advances at this time of year because of a twig hung in a doorway?”
“It’s called fun, officer. You might want to try it sometime. Takes less muscles to smile than it does to frown and all that. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a busy day on so if you’d care to step out from under that twig so I can pass? Wouldn’t want to encourage any other unwanted advances, would we?” Carla swept by her ‘friend’ without so much as a backward glance as Lisa stumbled towards the door, stunned by the whole interaction.
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3. Taxi!
Lisa walked away from the garage after dropping her car off. She hated that her MOT was due so close to Christmas, always an expense she could do without but it wasn’t like she could afford a new car, not with still recovering from the cost of moving house. Besides, there was nothing wrong with the car really to justify replacing it, just for the timing of the MOT. She laughed to herself with raised eyebrows as she considered what Becky would have thought of the very notion of such an idea. It would have been met with derision and sarcasm beyond that which even she herself could muster, that much Lisa was certain of.
Kevin and Abi had kindly agreed for her to drop the car off the night before so she was at the mercy of a taxi into work in the morning and then being forced to share a car with one of the other detectives if there was a need to leave the station before the end of the work day. Tonight though, she just wanted to buy herself a bottle of wine and forget about the day she’d had. Kit was being insufferable over the case he’d been put in charge of. She’d tried to warn him he was ignoring leads that should be investigated but he was determined to prove himself and prove her wrong. He still seemed to be harbouring some notion that he needed to win her favour, little realising that once Lisa Swain had made her mind up about someone, she rarely changed it without exceptional evidence to support it. Kit had taken to poking her like a schoolboy witha crush, constantly needling her to get her attention and it was getting old very quickly. But the more she ignored him, the more needy he seemed to become. Snapping at him didn’t elicit any better results either so she was resigned to just letting him work it out of his system and hope for the best.
“Evening Sarge.” Just when Lisa didn’t think the day could get any worse, fate proved otherwise, producing the smarmy overgrown manchild like an apparition before her in Dev’s corner shop.
“DC Green.” Her lack of eye contact and continued browsing of the shelves should have been enough hint for most people that further conversation was not required. Kit was not most people though and seemed intent on prolonging the exchange, regardless of the waves of frost flowing off his superior officer’s demeanour.
“Plans for the evening?”
“Wine, solitude and silence hopefully,” came the sharp response.
“I wouldn’t recommend that one, it leaves a bitter aftertaste.” Kit took the bottle of Shiraz from her hand, placing it back on the shelf, earning him an incredulous look as the door to the store swung open again. Cassie walked in with a rather tipsy Steve in tow, chasing after her with a sprig of mistletoe held aloft and lips puckered in invitation.
“Come on Cassie, we both know there’s chemistry between us.” The cab driver was following his latest infatuation like a lovesick puppy, complete with the eyes and head tilt.
“There’s chemistry between magnesium and oxygen too, doesn’t mean the two should mix!” Cassie continued her journey into the store, steadfastly refusing to entertain Steve’s antics.
Lisa rolled her eyes at yet more mistletoe turning people into kiss-craved zombies as she went to grab another bottle of wine. Steve less than soberly nudged into Kit accidentally - though how he could miss seeing someone so tall was beyond her. The mistletoe fluttered from Steve’s hand, caught by Kit who seized the opportunity and raised it between himself and Lisa with a hopeful expression.
“Come on Sarge, get into the Christmas spirit and live a little. You never know, you might like it.”
“Do you recall what I said the last time you tried this? About your part in the police choir and a sexual harassment complaint? Because you are this close to having some body parts I think you might be quite attached to rearranged. She has more chance of me kissing her than you ever will. This ends Kit, now, or so help me I will report you and have you sent to direct traffic on a tiny Scottish island for the rest of your career.” Lisa slammed the wine back onto the shelf, barely avoiding breaking the bottle. “Do you have any drivers sober enough to get me home?” she asked, eyes blazing as she glared at Steve.
“I’ll take you, love. I might even collect on that promise of a kiss,” Cassie grinned just as Carla walked through the door, her own expression turning puzzled as she watched Lisa flounce out with Cassie in tow.
“What’s that about?” she asked, looking between two crestfallen men.
“I think our ladies just ditched us for one another.” Steve snatched his mistletoe back from Kit, glaring at him like it was his fault.
“Okay you and Cassie I can understand but you and…Lisa?” Carla was incredulous and let her disbelief show quite plainly.
“She’s an attractive woman, just needs to loosen up a bit.” Kit was defensive at the dismissal of his chances.
“Right, well I think she’s let you know you’re severely barking up the wrong tree there since she’s just left with a woman.” Carla grabbed the bottle of wine Lisa had left behind, making her way to the till with an unsettling feeling of jealousy bubbling away in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Lisa alone with Cassie. God damn that woman and her ability to get under Carla’s skin.
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4. For Old Time’s Sake
“Come on, Carla, we were good together, weren’t we? Until you threw a grenade into what we had, I mean.” Nick was drunkenly leaning into his ex’s personal space, ignoring the signs of her discomfort in his inebriated state.
“Yes Nick, what we had at the time was good and I blew it but neither of us are those people any more. And after your behaviour with Toyah and Leanne, I don’t think you have any moral high ground left to speak from, do you?” Carla was short and snappy. She’d only come to the Bistro because she couldn’t bear the thought of the Rovers with Kirk’s singles night in full swing. She had thought that being out of the way of that debacle would shield her from any unwanted advances but she hadn’t factored in Nicholas being drunk and nostalgic.
“Just one kiss, for old times’ sake and if you feel nothing, you can blame it on the mistletoe and we’ll say no more about it?” The way he was looking at her and the bereft feeling she had been carrying inside her since the divorce came through tugged at a tiny string in her mind. What could it hurt? She was beholden to no one and it wasn’t like they hadn’t had their share of fun, back in the day. One kiss, a bit of attention in an otherwise bleak and barren period. One kiss, to prove to herself if nothing else that she wasn’t washed up and on the scrapheap as her half century loomed ever closer.
“One and then you’ll leave me alone to drink my wine in peace.”
Nick needed no further invitation, leaning even closer and sloppily pressing his lips to Carla’s own.
Betsy walked through the door, her mother in tow behind her, and groaned at the sight of her boss being practically devoured by a man who was struggling to keep himself upright. She’d not wanted to come out for dinner anyway but since her Mum had shut down the pub suggestion on account of it being single’s night or some other such tragic thing, the Bistro was where they found themselves. The sight did little to improve her appetite and if her Mum’s sharp intake of breath behind her was anything to go by, she was equally unimpressed. Betsy wasn’t dense, she knew something had happened between her Mum and Carla because they’d gone all weird with one another, barely speaking or looking at each other but asking after the other woman behind their backs. She was just about sick of it and wanted to lock them in a room together until they got over whatever it was. Playing go between was exhausting.
“Maybe we should just get a takeaway,” Lisa suggested, already half turning to leave.
“No way, you’ve dragged me out here and made me witness that. The least you can do now is buy me a proper dinner.” Betsy flounced over to a booth, announcing her presence to Carla as she waltzed by. “Evening Mrs Connor. So what’s good on the menu here tonight then?”
“Sorry.” Lisa couldn’t determine which emotion was stronger as she scurried past the table, bundling Betsy into a seat and fixing her with a silent rebuke. Her insides were churning with jealousy, shame, embarrassment and anger at her own inaction that had led to Carla slipping away from her. “You know what, Betsy, I’m really not feeling it tonight after all. Let’s head home, I’ll treat you to dinner another night instead.”
“But…” Betsy went to protest but then she saw how her Mum was actually fighting to keep her emotions in check. A glance at Carla showed that she too had spotted the reaction and it was being analysed with interest by the brunette. “Okay. Let’s go then but you’re buying me chips on the way home.”
Carla watched them hurrying out with concern. Nick laid his hand over hers to draw her attention back to him but she snatched it away. “You had your kiss, Nick, and it meant nothing.” How wrong had she been to think it couldn’t hurt when her heart was aching. She’d just proven Lisa’s point about her being a tourist and just seeking affection and validation from anyone who would offer it. Except that’s not what it was at all. Carla had felt nothing from her kiss with Nick, not even the slightest tingle of familiar comfort. It had just felt wrong and sordid and unpleasant, feelings that were only amplified by the arrival of the one person currently on earth that she did want to kiss. And now that one person was the last person who would consider doing so.
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5. Light up my world
It had been Betsy’s idea to include other halves or significant others for the annual Christmas bash for the Underworld staff. To the rest of her colleagues, it was a benevolent gesture that she’d used her powers of persuasion on Mrs Connor to secure as a goodwill measure. Behind closed doors, however, the youngster had confided in Carla just how lonely and low her Mum seemed, even to her from whom Lisa was desperately trying to hide her increasingly isolated state. Betsy had practically begged Carla to let her invite her along, to give her a glimmer of hope that she didn’t need to be so totally alone. Since their aborted meal at the Bistro, it was like a light had been extinguished in her Mum, a final flicker of a flame snuffed out. She was still sidelined at work, increasingly under an onslaught of snide remarks and insinuations from Kit that she was incapable of keeping her emotions separate from her job and any previous efforts to build bonds within the community they now lived had stalled in favour of nights at home alone with the cat. Even though Betsy hadn’t been keen on her connection with Carla, seeing the effect of losing it was startling, a slippery slope back to the early days after Becky died when her remaining mother was desperately trying to present a stoic front for her daughter whilst quietly dying inside herself.
Lisa had taken a lot of persuasion to even entertain the idea and even then had only committed to one drink and joining Betsy for the traditional lights switch on at the community tree. But Betsy hoped it would be enough. Enough time for Carla to find a way to bridge the gap between them. Because she and Betsy had talked, really talked, and the care and concern Carla spoke of Lisa with convinced Betsy that they must reunite at all costs. So even if she had to lock them in the closet at Underworld to make it happen, that’s what she’d do and deal with her mother’s wrath afterwards. Between them, Betsy and Carla had decided to ensure Lisa would be seated next to the factory owner - if anyone asked, they were friends and Lisa didn’t really know anyone else that well so it would make sense. So when they entered the Bistro and the only two seats left empty were next to Carla, Betsy couldn’t help but smile to herself. The plan so far was coming together beautifully…except that her Mum had frozen in place, seemingly gripped by panic at the thought of being in such close proximity to the object of her current turmoil.
Carla spun at the sound of her name being called, spotting Betsy and her Mum as she cast her gaze over her gathered staff. The soft smile she offered them invited Lisa in, calling to her to just put everything aside for one night and accept her fate. Yet it also felt like a dagger to her heart. The last time she had been treated to such a smile had been the night of their almost moment and that currently felt like a lifetime ago.
“Come on Carla, have a drink!” Sally was clearly already a few scoops in, judging by her loosened lips and slightly swaying movement.
“Not tonight, Sally. Someone’s got to keep a clear head and make sure you lot get home safely.” Carla raised her tumbler of cranberry and soda in toast. “Betsy, love, what can I get you to drink? Wine for you, Lisa?”
“Come on Mum, it’s starting to get awkward, you standing here. I thought you two were friends so why’s it such a big deal sitting with her? I thought you’d prefer that to Sally or Sean or, God forbid, Kirk!” Betsy kept her voice low, muttering into her mother’s ear as she moved past with a bright smile to be welcomed into the fold. “Lemonade for me please, Mrs Connor.”
“Sorry, I… I’ve got to go,” Lisa fumbled with her phone, making out she had received a message requiring her attention. Carla was first to her feet, following her as she fled.
“Lisa! Lisa, wait. Please. This is daft. I’m really sorry for what happened, that it’s thrown this grenade into our friendship. Can we just… Please, can we talk for a minute and if you still can’t face being here, I’ll respect that and let you leave but…I miss you. I miss our chats and having coffee with you, drinking wine hunkering in our bunker and shutting out the rest of the world.”
“Are you sure it’s not the attention you miss, Carla?” Lisa knew she was being cruel, poking at the other woman as a way to protect her fragile heart.
“I think we’re both aware that if it was just that, I could get it from elsewhere.” Carla didn’t need to expand on that for them each to recall Lisa having witnessed the very bad idea of her kissing Nick a few weeks before. “Lisa…there’s so much to say between us, far more than would be appropriate here tonight but if you hear nothing else from me, at least hear this: our ‘moment’ wasnt me being a tourist. That was the culmination of weeks of growing closer to the glimpses of you that you let slip around me. It was the result of me feeling closer to you than I’ve ever felt before when you opened up and allowed yourself to share your deepest struggles with me. It was me realising that it would be the worst thing in the world if we were to lose you, for Betsy and for me because I care about you so much. Not as an experiment or mid-life crisis but as a human being who has found a connection that I couldn’t have predicted but can’t ignore. I’ve been miserable since we stopped talking. Wine doesn’t taste the same without you to share it with, looking at me over your glass with those beautiful eyes like you’re drinking in every part of me as much as you are your wine. I miss you, I care for you and... I’m attracted to you.”
The raw honesty in Carla’s eyes, combined with the assurance that she was stone cold sober and this wasn’t the drink talking rekindled the tiniest ember of hope within Lisa. “I’ve missed you too, Carla.” The words came out as a choked whisper, reminiscent of how she had asked if she was a bad person following her admission of just how ambivalent she was regarding her own safety. Neither woman could have identified who initiated the hug but once back in one another’s arms, Lisa clung to her close friend as though she was her only lifeline. Betsy watched them, watched her Mum’s eyes flutter closed and a look of pure contentment take hold. Before she could second guess herself and talk herself out of her plan, she reached into her pocket, extracting the mistletoe she had brought in case an opportunity presented itself. Bounding over, she held it over the heads of her Mum and Carla, planting a kiss on each of their cheeks.
“Look up, boomers.” She grinned cheekily as Carla withdrew far enough to fix her with an indignant glare but not so far that she couldn’t retain a tight hold on her Mum.
Carla’s eyes drifted higher, following the curve of Betsy’s arm, shaking her head with grim amusement at the sprig of green foliage and white berries dangling from her fingertips. The amusement turned to intrigue as Lisa swallowed, eyes seeming to trace the curved outline of Carla’s lips before she leant in slightly, pausing as though expecting to be rejected at any moment. Carla closed the distance, pressing her lips to Lisa’s own and finally feeling the gulf between them evaporate as they at last acknowledged their shared attraction to one another. The kiss lasted long after Betsy’s arm grew tired and the mistletoe disappeared from over their heads but neither of them cared, too lost in one another and the promise of what could lie ahead if only they stopped being so stubborn and scared.
When they finally drew apart, foreheads resting together, Lisa smiled, eyes as soft as Carla had ever seen them. “That’s the first and probably only time I approve of the use of mistletoe.” The brunette laughed, pulling Lisa back to her and showing her that no plant was needed to encourage Carla to kiss her.