Chapter Text
MONDAY
"What are you doing?"
Lisa turned to see her daughter in the doorway, staring at the mass of clothes all over Lisa's bed.
"Jesus! Do you ever knock?" Lisa grabbed the nearest jumper, pulling it over her head. She wasn't normally bothered about her daughter seeing her without a top on, but she was still very self-conscious about her bruises and her bra did nothing to hide the extent of them.
"I can't believe you weren't going to tell me the truth about what happened to you." Betsy sighed. "You actually thought I'd believe you got those bruises from a gym class? I'm not a kid."
"I know. I'm sorry." Lisa cleared a space on the bed and sat down. "I was trying to protect you, but I know now that I was wrong."
"At least Carla told me the truth."
"It wasn't really her place though, was it." Lisa was aware she'd snapped, but the mere mention of the other woman had made her stomach clench.
"Come on, Mum. She knew I didn't believe your stories. I was upset! I thought you'd killed Joel!" Betsy's voice was becoming more shrill.
"I still can't believe you thought I was capable of murder." Lisa shook her head. How had her relationship with her daughter got to the point where Betsy thought she was capable of that.
"Well not murder, no. But maybe you'd had a run-in with him, he'd beaten you up and you'd, I dunno, hit him over the head with your baton or something."
"Well I didn't."
Betsy rolled her eyes. "I know that, now. Thanks to Carla."
There it was again. That suckerpunch in the gut that Lisa felt at the mention of Carla's name.
"Saint Carla. Just as well she was around." Lisa muttered under her breath.
"I think that's a bit unfair." Betsy eyed her with disdain. "She's been good to us. Both of us."
Lisa was reminded of something very similar she'd said to Carla previously. Back before a single moment had strained their relationship.
She sighed. "Yes, sorry. That was unfair. I'm glad Carla told you the truth. And I'm sorry I didn't."
"Right, well. Back to my original question...what are you doing?" Betsy looked around at the jumpers all over the bed.
"I'm sorting out some of my clothes. I have too many jumpers."
"It's not even 8am. You're on annual leave."
"So? Surely that's a perfect time to do some sorting?"
"Not at the crack of dawn."
Lisa shrugged. "I've been up since 6. It's when I naturally wake up."
"What are you going to do with your fortnight off?"
"I have no idea." Lisa admitted. "What do people do with time off? I spent the weekend doing nothing. How am I going to fill two weeks?"
"You spent the weekend doing nothing?" Betsy scoffed. "Shall I recap? Saturday morning you fixed the wonky shelves in the dining room. You did housework and washing and then you went out to do a food shop. Then yesterday you were out for a run for hours -"
"- it wasn't hours." Lisa interjected.
"It was hours. How far did you run?"
"8 miles."
"I rest my case."
"Betsy, running helps me to clear my mind."
"OK, so you went out running for hours and then, yesterday afternoon, I come downstairs to find a giant pot of chilli on the hob and pies all over the kitchen, like you were auditioning for Bake Off!"
Lisa couldn't help but laugh. She had made a lot of pies. "I was stocking up the freezer, so we don't starve to death when I'm working."
"Hardly relaxing, though."
"I spent all evening relaxing!"
Betsy rolled her eyes again. "Right. A glass of wine and a true crime documentary. I know you only watch those so you can criticise the police investigation."
Lisa scoffed. "They're always so flawed."
"OK, so now that you've fitted a fortnight's worth of jobs into your weekend, what are you going to do with the rest of your time off?"
"I don't know, Betsy." Lisa sighed. "I don't know what people do with time off, unless they're going on holiday."
"You need a hobby."
"Er no, I don't. I don't have time for hobbies, normally. I run. That's enough."
"It isn't normal, mum. Everyone has hobbies. Or things they enjoy doing."
"And what's yours? Hanging around the precinct, getting up to no good."
Betsy looked hurt. Lisa kicked herself. She hadn't meant to bite like that. Her voice had been far more caustic than the sarcasm she was going for.
"Cheers mum. I actually do have hobbies. I sew. Every birthday and Christmas I ask for more thread; you see how much I get through. I like singing. I was actually thinking of joining the musical theatre group at college. Not that you'd care. You never came to any of my shows when I was at school."
Lisa cringed. Her daughter was right. Becky had always managed to swap a shift to get to Betsy's shows. But, as a detective, it was so much harder for Lisa. She'd missed Betsy playing Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz last year, her first show since Becky died. She could kick herself for not prioritising her daughter. How had she not seen what it was doing to her?
"Betsy, I'm so sorry. You're right. I have missed so much." She reached out her hand, to hold her daughter's. When did Betsy's hand become adult sized? It seemed like only yesterday it had been small and sticky, or covered in mud. Now it was adorned with perfectly manicured nails. "It's great that you're gonna join the musical theatre group. I promise I'll try and attend your shows, if you give me plenty of notice."
Betsy nodded, her hurt clearly not forgotten. Lisa knew she'd have to try harder to rebuild the relationship with her daughter. There was too much hurt, too much history to brush it all away easily.
"Back to you, then. Other than work and running, what do you enjoy?"
Lisa shrugged. She'd never really thought about it before. Certainly not since losing Becky. "Spending time with you? Wine?"
Betsy scoffed. "Wine. Yeah, great hobby, mum."
"You asked me what I enjoy!" Lisa laughed.
"OK, what about if I try and find stuff for you to do, these next two weeks?"
"Like what?" Lisa felt sceptical.
"I dunno. I'll think of some something. We can do things together and I'll try and find stuff for you to do while I'm working or at college. It'll be like a charity project."
"Oh charming!"
Betsy grinned. "Come on, live a little! I have to go to college this morning, but I'll be back about 2 and then maybe we could go to the cinema or something?"
"I'd like that." Lisa smiled.
Betsy was really making an effort. She didn't give her daughter enough credit. She'd had such a hard time over the last 3 years. So much had happened and Lisa hadn't been there for her the way she should have. Things needed to change. Lisa needed to readdress her priorities and find space in her life for the people who she cared about. It dawned on her that there were really only two people she genuinely cared about, and that was her daughter and Carla. The factory owner had slowly become a part of her life and she found herself increasingly drawn to her. But it had all become so complicated when she'd realised her evolving feelings had been written all over her face, that night in Carla's flat. And seeing a look on Carla's face that perhaps mirrored her own...Lisa didn't know what to do with that. She could scarcely believe that the brunette would have feelings for her. She was straight, or so Lisa has been led to believe. Her life was complicated enough, without inviting a straight friend to use her as an experiment. Lisa didn't think she could cope with the hurt that the eventful rejection from Carla would cause. But maybe she was doing her a disservice. She'd been nothing but kind and patient with her, over the last few weeks. She'd put up with Lisa having a go at her, time and time again. She'd been a good listener to Betsy, telling her a hard truth, when Lisa had felt unable to. She couldn't deny how much Carla had done for both her and her daughter. It was time to suck up her conflicting feelings and show Carla how much she appreciated her role in her life. She only wished she didn't see the occasional glint in Carla's eye; the way she got flustered in Lisa's presence. It complicated things.
Shaking her head to clear her turbulent thoughts, she looked up at Betsy. "Right, you get off to college and I'll get back to my sorting. You can pick the film this afternoon."
"Good. You'll pick something shit."
"Betsy!" Lisa laughed. When had her little girl grown up into this sassy teenager? "Do you want a lift into college?"
"Nah, I'll get the bus." Betsy looked at the vast array of knitwear on the bed. "I'll leave you to your sweater vest collection."