George changed.
Carla doesn't know when it happened, how or even where, but he has. He's not the same man she fell in love with five years ago.
Lando's the one who noticed first, the thought whispered to her when George had plucked the wine out of...
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Lando
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"I can't..." Carla trails off, her voice tinted with a quiet frustration as she rummages through her tiny handbag. She curses to herself in semi-slurred mumbles as I sip from the cool bottle of water stolen from Martin's fridge. We round a corner my body bracing for the turn so I don't slide over to her on the exit. Then Carla huffs again and I arch a questioning eyebrow in her direction. "I can't find my key." The word is almost sobbed from her lips and makes my heart lurch in my chest because of my alcohol induced state.
"You can't find your-"
"My key! My key for the stupid flat." She stresses at me, her eyes not drifting from her bag as her fingers dig around every corner of her purse. As if it might make the metal key appear. To me if she can't find it from a quick glance the thing is gone. But there's a waver in her voice and tears gathering to her eyes that tells me that's not what she wants to hear. "For fucks sake!" Carla huffs slamming her hand down on the seat between us, it earns a warning look from the cab driver.
"Hey, alright!" I urge, trying to calm her down, she just shakes her head in defiance, lip wobbling as her frantic eyes search the near empty bag. "Carla it's okay," I try to comfort, the invention of the words feel like hard work in my swirling mind. Carla is right I'm wasted. I'm just not quite as wasted as her, but at least I managed to get her to finish a bottle and a half of water before the Uber arrived.
"The flat, I can't I-" her words are almost frantic and I don't know what to do. So I find myself reaching for her bag, snatching it out of her hands so that she can't manically claw at the lining for any longer.
"Relax." I instruct watching as Carla gathers herself almost immediately with the firm words. Her shoulders roll back and her sad eyes fall to me helplessly as if asking 'how' she would even begin to relax at a time like this. She still manages to heave in an uncertain breath.
"I can't get in without my key I-" Carla chokes, a strand of her hair falls from the carefully constructed bun on the back of her head to sway infront of her eyes. Her eyes which have clouded with the threat of tears. All of it caused by the stress of her missing keys.
"You can stay at mine." The suggestion falls out of me without even a thought. Carla's big eyes look to me, the panic draining from me as she processed the words. It's no big deal I guess, Carla can take my bed and I'll be on the sofa if it will stop the tears from gathering. Nothing I haven't done for friends before. Our only other option would be to take her home to Buckinghamshire, but that's an hour away and the thought of being in this cab longer than we need to be makes me want to hurl. The next option would be to call George, but I don't want to witness their screaming match and Carla doesn't want to be near George tonight. She shakes her head with my suggestion but it's weak and lacking many confidence her movements usually come with. I just nod in reply reaching to run a soothing hand over her back as she sniffles quietly, shoulders unwinding.
