Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Betsy talks to Carla
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Betsy Swain ran her hands over the thighs of her jeans as she stared at suite 1215 of the Chariot Hotel. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her hand and knocked – not forcefully, but loud enough to be heard.
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Carla Connor was sat in a chair in the corner of her hotel suite, staring into space. Her head was a void; words never said swallowed whole along with voices she couldn't silence.
A knock at the door pulled her from her daze. She glanced at the door, thinking. Do I answer it? Who could it be? Ryan? Roy? … Lisa? Her heart hammered painfully in her chest. She wasn't sure if she wanted it to be Lisa or wanted it to not be Lisa.
The knock came again and she stood up, moving toward the door. “I'm coming, keep your shirt on!”
She checked the peephole and took a deep breath before answering it.
“Betsy, sweetheart, everything alright?” Carla tried for calm. Tried for sympathetic, for friendly. Tried to recapture the easy way they'd established between the two of them. She took in Betsy's haggard appearance and softened. “What's wrong, love?”
Betsy burst into tears and threw herself at Carla. Carla reacted instinctively; her daughter was hurting, she wrapped Betsy in her arms, cooing soothingly in her ear as she led the young girl into the room and closed the door.
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Falling apart had surprised Betsy. She saw Carla's face, heard the tone of voice, saw her struggling to stay calm, as she asked Betsy if she was okay. Then the shift as she really looked at Betsy, took in her appearance and, there it was, her mum asking what was wrong and calling her “love”. It was Betsy's undoing as she burst into uncontrollable sobs and threw herself into Carla's arms, comforted by the fact that Carla wrapped her up and started whispering softly in her ear.
“Hey, hey, it's alright, it's gonna be okay,” Carla led her gently to the bed and sat her on the end of it, sitting close enough to not let go. “I'm here. I've got you.” Betsy cried harder so Carla rocked her slowly, gently stroking her hair, holding her tightly.
Betsy tried to calm down but every time she started, she remembered; remembered how she'd treated Carla, what she'd said, and the tears would start fresh.
“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” she wailed, unable to catch her breath. “It's my fault. It's all my fault.”
Carla pulled back and cupped Betsy's face. “Hey, what's all this? What are you sorry for? What's your fault?”
The concern in Carla's voice brought a fresh wave of tears. Carla wrapped her up again, humming softly as she rocked Betsy and stroked her hair.
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Carla didn't know what else to do. Betsy was hysterical, inconsolable … so she just kept holding her, heart breaking with every sob that emanated from Betsy's chest. She didn't know why Betsy was apologizing or what she thought was her fault but Carla was sure she hadn't done anything.
She stroked her fingers through the young woman's blonde hair and started humming a lullaby, rocking her gently.
She loved Betsy, no question about that. She hadn't been lying when she told Lisa it was beginning to feel like Betsy was her own kid. She'd always wanted a family but it had never materialized the way she'd envisioned. She had her found family; Roy, Ryan, Bobby, Betsy … Lisa. She sighed softly, not wanting to alert Betsy to her shift from concerned parental figure to angst ridden lover.
Betsy pulled slightly away, eyes red-rimmed, the tears slowed but not stopped.
“You and my mum splitting up,” her face was a study in abject misery, “it's my fault.”
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To say she was surprised would have been an understatement.
“What? No, Betsy, no, sweetheart, it's not your fault. It's not.” Carla told her firmly, shaking her head, stroking Betsy's cheek with the back of her hand. “None of this is your fault.”
“But it is! Mum just wanted me to be okay. I was worried about Becky so mum kept pushing you off, taking care of things with Becky because I was scared and worried. And I know the only reason you said Becky could stay until she went back to Spain was for me. Mum wasn't going to let her but you knew how hard it was for mum and for me so you did it. So, yeah, it is all my fault!” The words tumbled from Betsy's lips in one long breath, as though she had to say them fast, get them out.
“And mum was wrecked when you left. Cried all the time and I …” Betsy faltered.
“You what?” Carla prompted her.
“I told her she was better off without you if that's how you were going to treat people!” The words burst forth through another bout of tears.
Carla sighed again. She and Lisa really needed to talk, she knew they did – she'd just been waiting for the dust to settle. Until she wasn't so hurt, so angry. When she could properly listen. Betsy's misery was palpable and Carla was having a hard time with it. She just wanted to make the pain stop for her … “daughter” her mind supplied. Traitorous thought though it may be.
“Betsy, love,” Carla started but Betsy interrupted her again.
“And now you're back but you're not and I don't know what mum did but I know it was Becky's fault. Mum's depressed; not like crying but, like, she's home but not there.” Betsy continued. “She just hands me her purse to get take away that she pushes around but doesn't eat. She sleeps, well, pretends to sleep on the couch. She won't even share with me anymore and I just don't know what to do and I know it's unfair of me to ask this of you, I know that but … you saved her, you know? Before, I mean.” Betsy's eyes implored Carla. She was begging Carla to save Lisa. “She was never happy until she met you. I mean,” Betsy took a deep breath, “all this stuff with Becky made me remember.” The tears that had stopped started again. Betsy shook her head.
“It's all so much, Carla. Remembering, I mean.” Haunted eyes met Carla's. “Remembering the real life we had. No, the real life mum had. Becky … she was good to me, with me, sort of.” She huffed a sigh. “I'm not explaining this right. Like, looking back, I can see why kid me loved her, you know? She was the fun mum, there weren't a lot of rules. If mum said no, Becky said yes. Mum made me wash my hands and do my homework; Becky signed me out of school for a day at the shops. She disrespected mum and encouraged me to do the same. We shared inside jokes that mum wasn't a part of.” She shook her head. “It's funny, you know, the things you remember. They'd have terrible rows about it; about how Becky was spoiling me, and undermining mum's authority, and wasn't teaching me responsibility and whatever. And I hated her for it; hated that she was trying to make Becky like her. And then Becky died and all I had was her and I was angry because my best mate was gone, yeah?”
Carla listened to Betsy process her thoughts. Betsy needed to speak to a professional. To that, they all did.
“I spent close on three years hating my mum and wishing she'd died instead of Becky. I never thought my mum wanted me, you know? She was always so hard on me. Now, I'm older and all and … God, I'm not making much sense, am I?”
Carla got up and crossed to the mini-bar and pulled out two bottles of water, handing one to Betsy.
“I think, sweetheart, that you've been through a very big ordeal and you might need to talk to someone. Someone who isn't me or your mum.” Carla said carefully, softly, as she sat next to Betsy and ran a hand over her back.
“Sweetheart, your mum … she was planning a life with Becky in Spain.” Carla said quietly, the pain in her chest at the knowledge that she was so easily replaced gnawing at her.
“Thing is; mum didn't want to go to Spain until she'd seen you, talked to you. Becky forced it. Made it seem like we were in danger – like big danger. Someone tried to torch the house but Becky put it out – which now looks really suspicious, you know?” Betsy voice had grown in volume as she'd been speaking but it dropped to barely a whisper. “They weren't affectionate, you know? Like you, always hanging all over mum like a koala. Touching each other, cuddling, all of that? They didn't do it. No touching or kissing or hugs. Least, not that I ever saw. Mum … something happened ...I dunno what but mum got almost cold toward Becky, didn't wanna be near her. She didn't wanna go until she'd seen you. She was only going … because of me.” The last bit was so low that Carla almost missed it.
That threw Carla. Lisa didn't want to leave? That was news. Of course, had Lisa actually talked to her maybe she'd have known that. But Lisa … she sighed … Lisa never was good with the touchy-feely stuff. Communication with her had always been like pulling teeth. And Carla hadn't really been of a mind to play dentist once her ordeal was over.
“Please, Carla, just … talk to her? See if there's still something to save? She loves you. She was so unhappy when she got the texts and saw the photos.”
Carla's head snapped up. “Texts? Photos? I didn't have my phone, Betsy.”
“Well, yeah, we know that now but we didn't then, did we?” Betsy pulled out her phone and pulled up Carla's social media accounts and showed her the pictures. “She was really down about this; couldn't stop looking at them. Torturing herself. That's when I … when I told her she were better off without you.”
Carla stared at the pictures and the deviousness of Becky's plan started to take shape. Lisa saw these pictures, got text messages. “Betsy … did your mum try to call me?”
“Dozen times a day at least. Left loads of messages. You never answered, never rang back. She just … gave up, I guess? Decided going to Spain was better than staying here without me, without you. I wanted you to come with us until you disappeared. Figured maybe you and mum could have a nice holiday while Becky and I made up for lost time, yeah?” Her face fell. “But, weren't ever about me, not really. I was a pawn, wasn't I? She wanted mum.” The tears started again and she shook her head. “What's wrong with me?”
Carla pulled Betsy into her arms again. “Hey, none of that. There's naught wrong with you. You're amazing. You mum loves you, I love you.” She pulled back and cupped Betsy's chin. “Uncle Ry-Ry loves you,” she smiled cheekily, rewarded with a small smile back. “You're a good kid. Smart, talented, industrious – when you want to be. The fault lies in Becky, right?” She waited for a moment before prompting again. “Right?” She raised a brow at her.
A more real smile crossed Betsy's lips. “Right.” It faded just as quickly. “Carla, I was really unfair to you.”
“Betsy.” Carla smiled and shook her head. “You're a kid. I know you like to tell us you're an adult and you're all grown up but you're still a kid. Your mum – the one you idolized – suddenly showed up after four years. Took you back to before she died. It makes sense that you'd want me out of the way so you could get your family back.” Those words hurt Carla to say but she smiled through it. Betsy didn't need to be loaded down with guilt.
“It's funny, you know? I thought it was what I wanted but … there were a couple of moments between me and mum that just felt right without Becky. I didn't want to betray her, didn't want to think I'd replaced her.” Betsy's shoulders sagged. “But I had. In my heart, I had. I had you as my other mum and I was happy about it. I felt safe and loved.” She shook her head. “It's weird, the things you remember, you know? I never felt safe back then. I don't know why, I just never did. Not like I did when you and mum were together.”
Betsy lifted her head up and met Carla's eyes. “Please, come home. Talk to her. Make her talk to you. Don't let her shut down like she does. I know you're hurting and it's not fair, but,” she paused, her eyes flicking to the ceiling in an attempt to stem more tears, “maybe you'd hurt less if you were together, yeah?” She glanced back at Carla with a hopeful look. “Please, Carla, I want my family back.”
And that, Carla thought, was her undoing. Betsy. Wanting her family back. Carla realized there were a few more answers she needed before she actually gave up on the woman she loved.
She nodded once. “Alright then, let's go chat with your mum.”