You Never Said - Part 3 To The Producer (A Ricky Wilson Fan-fiction)

Something Changed

Ricky was watching an episode of some DIY make over programme when he heard the front door open just after ten o'clock on Saturday night.  Standing up quickly from the sofa in stepped out into the hall as Laura was dropping her bags on to the floor and flicking off her sandals. Her eyes rose to meet his and Ricky couldn't help but fail to read the emotion that he saw in them. A forced smile gradually spread across her face.

"Thank God that's over," Laura announced as Ricky stepped towards her enveloping her in his arms, rubbing her back. He felt her physically deflate as he held her. Her shoulders slumping as she sighed heavily.  Releasing his grip and guiding Laura into the living room, Ricky remained silent,  not knowing how to console her. Laura sat down and rubbed at her eyes,  exhausted after the events of the last few days. He turned the television down.

"Do you want a drink?"  he asked,  picking up a wine glass from the table, intending to refill his own.

"Something stronger? I want a bath," she stood up again. "Will you bring it up?" Laura didn't wait for an answer.  She just put her hand on his arm and left the room.

Laura closed her eyes and sank into the water having run it as hot as she could bear. The thought of having another day before she had to go back to work was a relief. And what a break from work it had been. Every minute filled with an event of some kind and a cascade of emotions to go with each one.  Going back to work would be less hard work.

Hearing the bathroom door click open, Laura opened her eyes to see Ricky with a glass of something in his hand.

"I poured you a large one!" he said,  placing the whisky on the edge of the bath.

"Thank you." This time Laura nearly managed a proper smile. She lifted herself out of the water and grasped the glass tightly. Placing it to her lips she drank at least half of the content, feeling it's warmth slide down her throat. She carefully replaced the glass and slumped back down into the water.

Ricky was nervous to ask questions, worried of the reaction Laura might have to them. Feeling awkward whilst she lay in the bath, he rocked on his heels, hands in his pockets.  There would usually be an invitation to join Laura, but tonight no such invite was on offer. She had closed her eyes.

"I'll leave you to it," he said quietly and went to leave.

"I won't be long," came Laura's reply as he pulled the door closed.

Ricky was still downstairs when Laura emerged from the bathroom.  She made her way straight to the bedroom,  pulling out something to wear from her drawer. Collecting the whisky glass from the bathroom she made her way to the kitchen, poured herself another and went to join Ricky.  As she entered the room he raised his hand to hold Laura's. She took it, holding loosely as she walked round and sat down next to him on the sofa, leaning some what resistantly against his side, legs tucked up next to her. His arm slid around her shoulders and his fingers circled the top of her arm.

"Feel better?" Ricky asked looking down upon her. Laura didn't look up,  but drank from her glass.

"Yes," she began, " A few more of these might help though." He was shocked by her response.

"Drinking can't be the answer Laura."  After hearing about the bottles she'd described at her mother's house, he thought alcohol was the last thing Laura would have wanted. She held the glass up in front of her.

"It is tonight!" she drank again. Ricky pulled his arm from around her, sat forward, grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

"Shall we go to bed? You must be tired."  He rose to his feet. But Laura didn't move.