She sat there, alone in the middle of Roy's lounge with another empty bottle of red wine. Her friend had gone out for the evening to see Cathy and left Carla with her thoughts. She was bored and she was angry. There was nothing to do in his house, as grateful as she was; she was hardly going to play with his beloved train set. Not that Roy would let her anyway.
Two grand, that's how much she had lost that afternoon. Sure, that amount of money didn't mean as much to her as it did to others but it still hurt to lose. It forced her back into real life.
Carla got up from the old sofa and slightly staggered towards the kitchen. There was no more wine left. She could head over to the pub but that meant seeing people, or rather them seeing her in this state. She perched herself on the counter. This little flat, it was seemingly the only place that brought back happy memories. Times shared with the wonderful Hayley, planning her wedding dress together and having a natter. They were times that Carla would treasure for the rest of her days. It must be so painfully bittersweet for poor Roy.
It must be a similar feeling for Sophie and Leanne too. Carla tried to shake that idea away as she sat herself down on a dining chair. It wouldn't feel anywhere near as bad for them, their relationships were nothing compared to Roy and Hayley's. That was cruel to think. It was honest but it was also a cheap way for Carla to excuse herself, she knew that. She leant her head into her hands. She could just sit there and examine her whole life before having another breakdown. That would be too difficult. She needed a distraction. There was no booze left and she had gambled away too much for one day. She pulled her phone out of her jeans' pocket. Carla contemplated ringing Nick; he always knew the right words to say. But then there was Erica and she wasn't going to be the Tina in that set up. And Michelle was working, it was a late Friday afternoon and The Rovers would be heaving.
Something then flashed through her mind. It made her want to throw up. She could call Peter. She hated herself that he had actually crossed her thoughts.
As if he'd help her, he had no idea what was going on anymore. They were practically strangers now. And she despised every ounce of him, obviously.
Carla remembered how they shared eye contact across the street not long ago when Peter briefly visited his family. He didn't utter a word to her. Without even a nod, he just looked away. Not that it mattered of course, Carla had done the same. But he was the one that had cheated and he was the one that should have made an effort, so she could've rebuffed him. It hurt that even he didn't care anymore.
Maybe he somehow knew about her and Nick's fling, Carla found that a little amusing. But why didn't he confront her about it, as if he had a right to. Or to attack Nick would've been more like him. But there wasn't anything. Carla couldn't handle the nothing at all; it felt like he had moved on. He had moved on before she could.
Carla found herself staring at her phone, fingers hovering over his name in her contacts list. She hadn't even deleted his number, deciding it might be useful for emergencies. Now felt like one of those emergencies.
Why was she still thinking about it? It was a sour mistake waiting to happen. And what exactly was she going to say to him? There was nothing more to say. But it was them and too many things were left unsaid.
No one would need to find out anyway.
She had already pressed call before she had even realised what she had done.
It took a moment before he had answered, "Hello?"
His tone low and he spoke so casually, not knowing who was on the other side. Not knowing how crazy she felt hearing his voice again. The bastard had deleted her number.
Carla struggled to work out how to respond; she wanted to say something sharp and sarcastic but the wine had clouded her mind.
"How dare you just look at me and not say a word," it came out of her mouth and she immediately regretted it.
"Carla?" He said this with a hint of shock but nothing more.
"Who else would it be?" She added, "Actually, who knows with you."
"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting this," He sounded more uneasy this time, she must have got to him. "Is everything okay?"
She couldn't answer that truthfully, things couldn't be further from okay right now but he couldn't know that.
"Oh it's all tickety boo, Peter," She lifted herself away from the table as she straightened her back, wiping away some mascara stains from her face like he could see her."Now answer me, why did you not say anything when you visited?"
"As if you'd have wanted that,"
"And as if you care what I want."
She could hear herself; she was acting like a teenager.
"Have you been drinking?"
The cheek of him still trying to make Carla his problem. The hero through a phone call. "Not even touched the sides," Carla could imagine his worried face as he sat in the sun somewhere in Antigua and it made her want to fly over there and break it for him.
Peter knew how to awkwardly change conversational subjects with an intoxicated Carla. "Ay, I heard about the fire-"
He better not go there. She could take an ear bashing from anyone but that man.
"-I know it weren't your fault, Carla." He continued, oblivious to her simmering anger. "It was an accident, anyone could see that."
She was too stunned to know how to react; his feeble attempts to get back into her good books were laughable.
"-I've been there before, remember." He was referring to the fire he caused a years back, daring to put her in the same box as him.
"It wasn't some tragic, drunken accident, Peter," She spoke surprisingly calmly; "it was meaningless and avoidable. Something that happened without reason and there is no solution to this, I'm not going to just shrug off killing two people."
"You can't let it haunt you for the rest of your life, it wasn't done maliciously." He had no idea. No idea how much the guilt was burning her alive. No idea how she had taken up a new dirty habit, far worse than how he had flirted with the idea of gambling not even too long ago, just to take off the edge.
This man is a train wreckage; it's like the blind leading the blind. But that's exactly how she could relate to Peter before anybody else. They both enjoyed hitting destruct mode in their own selfish, self pitying ways.
She was just like him and it knocked her sick.
"-and the drink won't help."
His comment actually made Carla laugh out loud. He was on a roll, looking down on her like everyone else. "Shut it."
"I'm not saying it to belittle you, Carla," he said without defeat, "get yourself wasted, I've been there and it's the easy option. Facing up to your demons is the bit that I could never do but you're stronger than anybody."
She hated to admit it but he was right. He was condescending and hypocritical but he also had a point. She wasn't stronger than most people, that were a front which he knew, but she did need to face up to her problems. She stood up from her chair and wandered purposelessly back to the lounge, gathering her thoughts. She could hang up now; she was getting tired of the conversation already. But something stopped her.
She needed to affect him. He can't just judge and criticize her even from the other side of the world. "I don't need you anymore, I've got Nick."
The drink was slightly wearing away but she wouldn't have said such childish things if she was stone cold sober. She wouldn't have made the call in the first place.
He left quite a long pause, Carla wondered if he was going to end the conversation himself.
"I heard," he said simply, with agitation. Who had told him? Tracy? Simon? It didn't matter really, if he already knew about her interest in his arch enemy then it would be eating him up inside. Good. She was finally winning.
"He's ten times the man you will ever be,"
"But he still didn't choose you though, did he?"
That was a kick in the stomach. He really was getting regular updates of her life.
"I didn't want him to," It was a petty comeback in a petty exchange. Maybe the unsaid should have been left unsaid.
"I do hope someone makes you happy Carla," he began his unsung hero act again, "him or otherwise."
"Well that's good of you," She hit back. Somehow her little jibes towards him bizarrely made her feel guilty. "But thanks," she said it with sincerity but it may not have came across that way through the phone.
"You know when I saw you that day but didn't say anything," he continued, "It was the hardest thing in the world. I know you don't have to hear this,"
She did. It helped to clarify everything for her. She wouldn't tell him that, however. She relaxed herself back into Roy's sofa.
"I just knew you didn't need me hassling you, again." He added.
"And why did you delete my number?"
"I didn't want to make any daft, drunken phone calls," said with a hint of charisma, bringing a slight smile to Carla's mouth.
"Maybe I should do the same," If it was his way to forget then maybe it would work for Carla too. She had already felt herself lighten up a little.
"Maybe,"
"This might be our last conversation,"
"Possibly, but I doubt it." He answered ambiguously. Carla could've sworn she could hear some sadness in his voice.
"Well thanks for your hypocritical analysis then Peter. If anything could give me a kick up the backside, it would be you and your judgements." She said it light heartedly as he laughed down the phone. She missed his laugh. "How is your new job then?"
"It's... different." He replied with slight hesitance, "It's not like Weatherfield."
"I can imagine. You don't have to stay there for me you know."
"I'm here for many reasons, you're one of them." He sniggered quietly, "but you're not the sole reason."
"Good to know," And it was, him coming back would only make things worse for her, as self-centred as it sounded. "I better go. Don't worry I won't be making more SOS calls."
"Take care of yourself, Carla."
"You too."
It wasn't an exchange that lasted for hours, full of crying and 'I love you's. It was closure and it was what she needed. For now.
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