Look for the girl with the broken smile.
Peter leaned gently on the bar, trying not to let his gaze meet hers.
She'd been sat there for an hour, maybe more, sipping on glass after glass of sparkling water.
Her face was drawn, her chiselled cheekbones bore dark shadows, her dark hair trailing down and over her shoulders.
He needn't worry, she didn't look up. Her eyes instead hovering, glazed over as she stared at her glass.
Her thin frame, swamped in a thick cardigan was a cry from the woman he'd parted ways with. Her boney wrists, gripping her glass too tightly.
He paused, wandering if he should approach her, ask her if there was something wrong.
Who was he kidding, he'd seen her change over the weeks that she'd been back. He'd wanted to talk to her properly, but she was always flanked by Roy, Michelle, Jonny, Aiden. And when she was alone, he didn't have the guts. If he had, Toyah would be biting at his heels.
She took a deeper breath, seemingly straining to get enough air into her lungs. She stood up, and he watching her grip the table for support, her body weak. Where was the black beauty that normally strutted the streets in heels too high?
When her eyes finally did meet his, she gave him a halfhearted, broken smile, as though she knew he knew, they all knew.
No amount of making up or coffee could hide the disease eating her away.
She was waiting, but how much longer could she fight for? How much longer before she'd have to tell them why she looked so ghostly.
Her smile faded as she put the glass on the bar, scooting it over to him.
'Carla, can I get you anything else?' Peter asked her quietly, unsure really what to say.
'I think I've drank enough of that to drown myself ent I' she chuckled, pulling her back over her shoulder.
Peter smiled lightly. 'At least it's not vodka' he said before grimacing at his words.
'Yeah, anyway, I best go' she said quickly, not wanting to stick around.
'Carla' he said.
She looked up, his kind eyes meeting hers.
'Look after yourself, won't you?' Peter said, not taking his eyes off her.
After all that had happened, no one could take his breath away quite like Carla. The bags under her eyes, the sharp outline of her collar bones, her sallow skin, nothing took away from her exquisite, exotic beauty. He tried to ignore the flips his stomach was doing.
'Will do Peter' she muttered quietly, gesturing a mock salute. She turned on her heel, aiming for the door.
And just like that, she was gone, leaving a trail of silence in her wake.
And as the icy air hit her face she took a sharp breath, teetering in her heels, having to lean against the wall to regain her stance. She couldn't go on much longer.