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“Is this the last box?” Ryan asks and Carla nods.
The flat is empty, save for a few bits of furniture that she’s leaving behind. All of her possessions, built up over years, have been packed away into boxes ready to be unpacked over at 6 Coronation Street.
The house that she and Lisa looked around together, the one they decided to buy together, the one that’s going to be their home with Betsy and Ryan.
Despite the fact they’ve been living together for months, this is different. Special.
Lisa and Betsy had moved into Carla’s flat.
Now it’s going to be all of theirs, equally.
She cannot wait.
But she wants a moment to say goodbye to the flat: Lisa and Betsy are over at the house so she waves Ryan off.
“Yeah. I’ll be over there in just a minute. You’ve been a star today Ryan, helping us carry stuff over. Thank you.”
“In a bit, Auntie C,” he salutes, leaving her alone to survey the empty flat.
When she and Peter had moved in here, she’d never dreamt that this is where they’re end up: divorced for the second time, Peter off travelling the world and Carla, moving to a house across the street that she’s bought with her girlfriend.
She takes a moment to let herself miss Peter and to remember the good times that they’d shared there.
Then her mind wanders forwards in time, to don’t get dressed and please stop talking, I do have feelings for you and the way their relationship felt like it had gone at the speed of light after that, what with dialysis (the memories of which she’s happy to leave behind in this flat) and the Rob saga and Betsy getting shot.
On reflection, random stuff just happens to me all the time is possibly the most true thing she’s ever said.
She shakes her head at herself. Why is the here reminiscing over times gone by when her future is waiting for her across the street?
Her family. Their home.
She locks the door behind herself, slipping the key into her pocket to deal with later.
She rushes across the street to where the door of number six is still propped open with boxes.
Lucky really, since she doesn’t have a key yet.
“I’m home!” she calls out, delighted at the novelty of it.
This is her home now, the home she shares with three of the people she loves most in the entire world (and although that’s been true for a while anyway, she’s so glad that moving to this house means Ryan gets a bedroom of his own, no longer relegated to the sofa or crashing at a friend’s house).
She makes her way past the boxes - they’re not even labelled, she has no idea which room they want to be in - and into the living room. Boxes line the walls and for a brief moment she’s overwhelmed by just how much there is to unpack. Right now though, she can’t help but laugh because there’s one armchair in the middle of the room that Ryan and Betsy are fighting over while Lisa, hair tied up in a messy bun, is rooting through boxes.
The blonde looks up at the sound of Carla’s voice and leaves the boxes, bounding over to Carla’s side and pulling her into a deep kiss.
“Welcome home, Carla,” she says and neither women even pays attention to the noises of disgust that Betsy lets out.
“Ew, calm it boomers!” she exclaims and Ryan takes advantage of her distraction to push her off the armchair, claiming it for himself.
Carla giggles, leaning her forehead against Lisa’s. “Maybe we should have left them behind,” she suggests. “We could have had have such a nice, chaos-free house. It’s not even been a day.”
“The smile on your face says you don’t actually mind the chaos though, my love. And we can’t kick Betsy out until at least November,” Lisa responds, smiling easily as much as Carla is. “This is our house,” she marvels.
“Yeah, and it’s a mess,” Carla points out. “We have nothing.”
Lisa shrugs. “We’ll start unpacking tomorrow. At least we have beds and our essentials in the suitcases. We’ve ordered Speed Daal, I got your usual.”
It’s such a little thing, the fact that Lisa remembers Carla’s usual order for all of their go-to takeaways, and yet it means so much. It’s the casual thoughtfulness, the way she remembers things because she cares and because she wants Carla to be happy, not because she’s looking for any kind of recognition for it.
“Do you think Speed Daal will let us borrow some chairs, too? I don’t think we can go too much longer arguing over one armchair and I’m not sitting on the floor,” Betsy pouts.
“The sofa’s due to be delivered in a couple of days, Bets,” Lisa reminds her. “We can manage.”
“And Speed Daal won’t, but Roy has a few spare chairs for the café,” Carla realises.
“I’ll go over and ask. Bets, you can help carry. We’ll give the boomers a bit of time to themselves,” he instructs and Lisa smiles at him gratefully. Carla’s eyes practically sparkle once the door closes behind the kids.
“Reckon we’ve got time to christen our new house while they’re gone?”
“Not with what I want to do to you,” Lisa responds. “But I reckon we should claim the armchair for ourselves.”
Lisa smiles, taking Carla’s hand and tugging her onto her lap. She wraps her arms around Carla’s waist securely.
“I love you, Carla.”
“Yeah yeah, love you too, shut up and kiss me before they get back and start complaining again,” Carla says.
“As you wish.”
“Oh stop quoting that stupid film or else we won’t be christening this house at all,” Carla threatens.
Lisa bites her lip, partially to hold back a laugh and partially because she knows what the action does to Carla. “As you wish,” she repeats, right before leaning in and kissing the other woman thoroughly.
The following morning, Lisa wakes early and determined to make a good dent in their unpacking. She gets ready quickly, throwing on a pair of joggers and Carla’s hoody.
“Oi, missus, that’s mine!” Carla exclaims when she sees her.
“Borrow something of mine, if you want. It’s one of the advantages of dating a woman, doubling your wardrobe.”
“Except you’re five foot nothing, your clothes won’t fit me.”
Lisa laughs, throwing an oversized plaid shirt at her girlfriend, still lounging about in bed. “This will. Get out of bed, lazybones. We’ve got a million things to do.”
“You can’t just boss me about,” she grumbles but she sits up, swinging her feet over the side of the bed. “Do we know where the towels are? I want to shower.”
“There’s one for each of us in the bathroom,” Lisa tells her. “I’ll pop over to Roy’s for breakfast.”
“Or you could join me in the shower instead?” Carla suggests and Lisa’s eyes widen, immediately tugging off the clothes she’d only just put on.
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?” She answers, eyes already darkening with desire.
An hour or so later, she’s sporting a smug smile and locking the door behind her when she hears her name being called from number 4.
“Good morning, DS Swain! I didn’t know you and Carla were moving already, I knew the offer had been accepted of course but Carla never mentioned that you were getting the keys so soon! Anyway, I’d love to have you over - all of you, of course - over for dinner one evening. A little 'welcome to the street' dinner now that we’re neighbours,” Sally beams.
“Call me Lisa, please. We’re neighbours, as you say, and I’m not on duty,” she points out quickly. The last thing she wants is for Sally to treat her like her own personal link to the police, 24 hours a day, just because she happens to live next door. “Dinner’s such a lovely idea, thank you, we just have so much to do - you know what it’s like moving somewhere, I’m sure. I’m not sure when we have time,” she tries to deflect but it doesn’t deter Sally even a little bit.
“Not to worry DS Swain, in that case just let me know once you do have time! I can always arrange it with Carla when we’re at work anyway,” she suggests and Lisa forces a smile. Carla won’t be happy.
Carla’s one complaint about the house had been that she wasn’t sure she could live next to Sally but Lisa had shrugged it off, declaring that she couldn’t be that bad.
Less than twenty four hours since moving into the house, she thinks she may have been wrong.
Sally is nothing if not determined.
“Of course,” she agrees. “Anyway, I’m just nipping out to grab some breakfast from Roy’s, I’ll see you around Sal!”
She doesn’t give Sally a chance to further the conversation beyond that, walking away briskly.
"Hi Roy," she greets him cheerfully, ordering breakfast for herself and Carla to take home. Ryan and Betsy are asleep - they can sort themselves out later.
"How's the move going?" he asks politely as he starts boxing up their sandwiches.
"All good, thanks. We'll have you over as soon as we're settled," Lisa promises.
"I'd like that."
Roy passes her a paper bag and Lisa frowns at the weight of it. "I only asked for two bacon barms, Roy."
"I know. I added some other sandwiches and some cake - it's a new recipe so feedback is welcome. It’ll save you the hassle of coming back again later, I’m sure a food shop is the last thing on your mind right now,” he says insistently. “It’s of the utmost importance that Carla remembers to eat and take her tablets.”
“I know, Roy,” she replies fondly. “I wouldn’t let her forget. I set an alarm on her phone and mine so she’s got absolutely no excuse.” He offers her an approving, fatherly nod at the statement.
“Good. Congratulations again on the house, I really am pleased for both of you. I know you make Carla very happy.”
"Thank you. I should get back."
His kindness puts her in a good mood and makes her forget about the conversation with Sally so she's relaxed when she walks back through the door of number 6, seeing Carla sitting in their singular armchair, drinking a cup of coffee.
“Bacon barm, drowned in ketchup. Roy says hi and to not forget your tablets. Did you unpack the kettle?” she questions, somewhat surprised at that effort when she'd known that Lisa was bringing coffee back.
“Thanks darling. And no, Sally brought it over, trying to have a nosey at our stuff. I told you living next door to her would be a pain. She’s already invited us all over for a dinner party,” Carla complains sharply, rolling her eyes.
“She caught me on my way out n’all,” Lisa admits. “I don’t think we’re going to get out of dinner. Sorry. You were right.”
“Always am, babe. You should be used to that by now.”
Later that day, Lisa and Ryan are working together to build furniture downstairs while Carla and Betsy unpack boxes in the bedrooms.
“Oh my GOD,” Betsy exclaims dramatically and loudly, causing the three adults to stop what they’re doing.
“Bets? You okay?” Carla calls over just as Lisa arrives at the top of the stairs.
“I found… I’m not sure what I found,” Betsy says and the women exchange an alarmed look.
“You don’t think it’s -” Lisa trails off and Carla shakes her head insistently.
“Can’t be. I made sure I carried that box over myself, it’s in our room,” Carla states.
They walk over the landing, peering into Betsy’s bedroom. She’s kneeled on the floor and the object gripped in her hand makes Carla’s cheeks flame.
“Carla, is this yours?”
“It’s just an alarm clock, Betsy. No need to scream the house down,” Carla states and Betsy’s face lights up, gleeful.
“It is yours. And it’s not just an alarm clock, it’s a Barbie alarm clock,” she screeches, snapping a photo. “The factory girls are going to love this.”
Carla shrugs, nonchalant. “Tell them if you must. It’s hardly gossip, Betsy. Don’t think I’ve ever even used it. I’m not even sure where I got it from.”
“You packed it, though. You brought it with you.”
“Top marks, Betsy. Great observation skills.”
“Go on, what’s the story?”
“Bought it in a charity shop after my flat burnt down,” Carla explains shortly, exchanging an amused glance with Lisa when Betsy’s face falls at the dull story. “Happy now? Can we all get back to unpacking now?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Betsy sighs, turning her attention back to her task.
Carla grasps Lisa’s hand, pulling her into their bedroom and shutting the door behind them.
“Is it bad I think I’d have preferred it if she had found our sex toys? It’d have been less embarrassing,” Carla mutters and the look on Lisa’s face says that the blonde clearly disagrees with the idea.
“What’s the actual story, then?” Lisa questions, looking at her closely. “You do have to admit Barbie is a bit of a weird choice for you.”
Carla sighs, raising an eyebrow at Lisa. “This is why I shouldn’t date a copper, you know? Especially a detective. You never let me get away with anything. Anyway, it is pretty much what I told Betsy. Bought it after the fire. But if the question is why I chose that particular one, it’s almost the same as the one Chelle had as a kid. I remember being fascinated with it as a kid, I was so jealous of it. I’m not sure why I was so jealous of it but I always knew there was never a point in asking mum for one, any money she had went on nothing but drugs and booze. But then I saw it in that shop and I picked it up and paid for it without even thinking about it. I dunno. It’s embarrassing,” she finishes, looking up to see Lisa gazing at her.
“It’s not embarrassing. Little bit funny, yeah, but not embarrassing,” she offers genuinely. “Anyway, me and Ryan finished building a bedside table a while ago. I’ll bring it upstairs, you can display your alarm clock on it if you want.”
“Yeah, okay,” Carla finds herself agreeing. It’s not like anyone but herself and Lisa would ever see the alarm clock anyway. “I’ll unpack the other box we were talking about too. You know. Just to make sure that no one else accidentally finds anything they shouldn’t. If I get rid of Ryan tonight, can you get rid of Betsy?” she asks, smirking.
Lisa’s eyes darken.
“Yes. Absolutely. I think we need a good few hours for ourselves in our house,” she agrees quickly and Carla smiles widely.
God, she’ll be giving herself wrinkles, the way she feels like she never stops smiling when she’s around Lisa. (She’s vain enough to be a little bit bothered by the idea, even if she knows she shouldn’t be. Feminism, not everything being about looks, and all that.)
“Good. Right, back to work then missus. Just don’t tire yourself out too much, I’ve got plans for us later,” she winks.
“As you wish,” Lisa murmurs, ducking out of the way of the pillow that Carla tries to hit her with and laughing when Carla follows, dropping the pillow and pulling Lisa towards her instead. They hear Ryan calling Lisa from downstairs, apparently needing a second person to carry on building the coffee table.
She lingers in the bedroom, too comfortable in Carla’s embrace to want to move for just a moment longer, just enough time to steal a kiss from Carla.
“Stop holding Lisa hostage, Auntie C. I need her help!” Ryan calls again.
“I’m on my way, calm down!” Lisa shouts back then turns back to Carla, eyes twinkling. “I bet we’ve got at least five minutes before he actually comes here, don’t you think?”
It’s ten minutes before he knocks on their door, grumbling about how ridiculous it is that they can’t bare to be apart for more than an hour.
“It’s our house, Ryan! We’re allowed to do whatever we want,” Carla shouts back at him. “Tell you what, take Betsy out for lunch, I think it’s time we all had a break.”
Ryan just shakes his head, knocking on Betsy’s door. “Oi, kiddo, lunch,” he calls and she opens the door, frowning at him in confusion.
“It’s barely eleven,” she states.
“I know, but unless you want to tell them that,” he gestures towards the closed bedroom door, loud peals of laughter easily audible through the wall and he’s just glad that it’s only laughter he can hear, although he's keen to leave before that changes. “I think I’d best buy us both some good earplugs while we’re out.”