"Carla!" called out Peter's voice in a harsh tone that echoed around the flat.
"Carla" he snapped the questioning shout of her name again.
No answer came but he knew she was home. Her car was still parked outside where he had left it last night and Carla never walked anywhere. He called to her again only to still be greeted by silence. Maybe she was asleep he thought as he slammed the door and scanned what was once their happy home with a frown on his face. In the daylight the mess looked a lot worse than it had the night before and the sun streamed in through the windows just illuminating it. Catching on the broken shards of glass that littered the floor the light was sent off bouncing in all directions. Investigating further Peter took off his coat and dumped it over the sofa. It was then he noted the broken glass of all the photograph's upon the floor and the stain left from the tiny bit of residue that had been in the bottle when it had hit the wall.
It saddened him to see the apartment in such a state but given the mess Carla had been in last night when she had turned up outside the bookies he figured it all equated. Ignoring the mess he focused his attention on trying to locate Carla. He was only there as a favour to Michelle because she had no keys and had called the phone and Carla's mobile only to receive no answer. Part of her had wanted reassurance that Carla was alright and the other reason had been because she needed fresh supplies for Heather. Obviously nappies, food and basic essentials like baby wipes she had been able to pick up from Dev's but of course clean clothes and toys to keep her entertained were all back at home. As Peter strode down the corridor, making a bee line straight for the bedroom he wondered how he might find her. He hoped she would just be sleeping but knowing Carla he suspected she was probably in a right state.
He hesitated for a moment before opening the door and as he did was surprised to find the room in darkness. He couldn't see Carla at all and flicked on the light to get a better view. Light flooded the room, showing every inch of it in bright detail. The place was a mess, just like the living room, furniture overturned and their possessions scattered all over the floor. Carla must have been completely distressed last night to cause such a mess and he just thanked god that Michelle had been sensible in removing his daughter from such a place. It was only then that he noticed Carla, slumped partly against the wall with her head on the floor just at the side of the bed. Dashing across the room he feared her health and quickly grabbed her pulling her up. As he did he breathed a sigh of relief when she groaned and slowly her eyes flickered open.
Holding her up and pinning her against the wall to keep her upright Peter tried to get her to stir further. He kept talking to her to try and help her regain consciousness and in an attempt to find out what she had done to herself. Looking about the floor it all suddenly made more sense to him and when he noticed the bottle lying idly on the floor he knew exactly what she had done. The dregs of the whisky remaining the bottle fumigated the surrounding area making Peter crave a sip. He wanted to resist but with temptation right there before him he was not strong enough to hold back. Grabbing the bottle he took a sip, followed by another and after three he had polished off what had been left. Giving Carla another gentle shake he attempted again to wake her but she seemed really out of it, then as if by magic her eyes sprang open, she lurched forward and vomited violently narrowly missing Peter.
Letting go of her in disgust she flopped back against the wall, groaning again as her head throbbed and started to spin. Feeling very lethargic and still very ill Carla slowly fell back to the floor, burping and gagging as her body convulsed in reaction. Peter was just standing there as the smell of vomit slowly over powered the lingering fumes of the whisky. It sickened him to think she had let herself get into this state and he thought about leaving her to wallow in her own mess. Turning to go he stepped on something that crunched under his shoes and stopped, lifting his foot he gazed down on what he had broken and saw the picture of Liam, smiling up at him. That confirmed how he felt. One thing Peter had always known was that he would never be able to compete with Liam but for Carla to drink herself into this state over him again was enough to make him furious. Had she not learned her lesson from previous close encounters.
Snarling he continued to glare down at the inanimate object that housed the guys picture. Carla's idea of perfection staring up at him as if a reminder of his own flaws. He resented Liam although he knew no one was perfect not even him so he didn't know why it bothered him. It wasn't like Liam was going to return and whisk Carla off of her feet so why was he letting jealousy consume him now. He glanced back over at Carla, still struggling on the floor and frowned, maybe she'd be happy if he just let her die, she could be re-united with her precious Liam then. Without another thought he disappeared, dipping into the nursery momentarily to collect what Michelle had asked him to and as quickly as he had arrived he had gone again.
Struggling by herself and having been disturbed Carla heaved and began to shiver on the carpet as the vomit just leaked from her lips continuously. She was aware enough to know she mustn't lay on her back and so forced herself to roll onto her stomach and push down with her sweaty palms so that she was up on all floors. She felt weak and wanted very much to collapse back down on the floor. Determined though she tried to crawl forward, calling out for help having not heard Peter leave. Her body was not strong enough to carry out her demands and after only just about moving a centimetre she was back on the floor and panting for breath. Reaching out her hand she extended it so that her fingertips just caught the edge of the frame of Liam's picture and dragged it across the floor to her. She stroked his face whilst crying and in short sharp gasps prayed that he'd take care of her.
"Thanks Peter" said Michelle as she took the bag of Heather's things and threw it onto her shoulder whilst trying to sooth her by bouncing her on the other. She couldn't help noticing how distracted he was and he hadn't yet said a word about Carla. Running her hand through her messy bed head hair and continuing to try and hush Heather's screams Michelle bravely dared to broach the subject with him. "How was she?" she asked with a wince.
"Carla?" he questioned and then shook his head as his distracted expression suddenly turned into a frown. He was annoyed, that much was clear to Michelle and she feared what Carla had said to him now. Nodding she waited for him to continue. "Don't even ask Michelle." Peter finally answered in a disappointed tone.
"She is ok though?" Michelle tried again not satisfied by what Peter had given her.
"Oh yeah, she's fine..." he declared sarcastically as he turned to go, then he turned back and in an unintentional aggressive manner he elaborated. "In fact she's pretty fantastic. She's trashed the place and got wrecked. Typical Carla" he snarled.
"Peter!" scolded Michelle, horrified that he seemed so detached with his feelings for his baby's mother. How could he think Carla was fantastic if all this had caused her to drink in excess.
"Oh Michelle I don't care. She knows my problem and I helped her through hers but she still drinks. She is pathetic. She can rot in hell" were his last words as he finally strode away without so much as a goodbye or see you. Not even for his own daughter.
About to head back inside Michelle wondered just how bad a state Carla might actually be in. Not that there was much she could do to check without a set of keys. She called out Peter's name but it didn't stop him. Dropping the bag of Heather's things on her doorstep she went running out after him, carefully trying not to upset Heather any further. "Peter, please stop!" she called out struggling to dash over the cobbles. "Peter!" she screeched just as he reached the bookies.
"Peter, can I have your keys? I am really worried about Carla. I should check she is ok" Michelle asked breathlessly as she stood waiting trying to catch her breath as Peter just shook his head at her in disbelief. After everything Carla had done she was lucky to have Michelle, in his eyes she was more than she deserved. Reluctantly he removed the single key from his keyring and placed it in Michelle's hand.
"Good luck" he stated with a chuckle as he headed inside.
Michelle pondered what he had meant by that as she returned home and freshened up Heather ready to visit her mum. She picked something pretty and as she admired the gorgeous little dress set wished she'd had a baby girl to dress up in cute little outfits like that one. Smiling she placed Heather down on the bed and made herself look more presentable. She went for a practical outfit of leggings and a top not knowing what state she would actually find Carla in.
"Hello...Carla?" called out Michelle as she entered the flat. As Peter had been earlier she was shocked to see the state of the place. It was safe to say it was a lot worse than it had been when she had left. Cautiously she called out to Carla again, not sure exactly where she might be amongst the mess. The whole apartment looked as though a bomb had hit it. Treading carefully she carried a settled Heather through to her nursery. The journey home had calmed her much more than Michelle had been able to just bouncing her on her shoulder. Thankful she was quiet Michelle lay her niece in her cot and then bravely ventured into the master bedroom where she figured Carla was hiding.
Nothing could have prepared her for the disaster she was about to walk in on. The light was bright and gave Michelle a clear view of the destroyed surroundings. Amongst them lay Carla, crying in what looked like and certainly smelt like a pile of her own vomit. In her hand she appeared to be clutching something and in between heaving intakes of breath she was muttering away to herself. She seemed terribly distressed and in a state that really upset Michelle. Hurrying over to her she gazed down at her bedraggled friend. Her skin was blotchy with red patches, her mascara had run and was smudged under her eyes not to mention the black tracks it had caused over her cheeks and her hair seemed sweat drenched, rat tailed and stuck to her face. She also looked pale and terribly fragile, not in a good way at all and now Michelle was closer she could hear the word Carla was mumbling. It was her brother Liam's name repetitively and it shocked her to see how much it could still cut Carla up that he was gone. Reaching down she placed a hand gently on her shoulder, startling her and causing Carla to jump in fright. She choked on her tears and tried to sit up coughing as the picture of Liam floated from her grasp.
"Carla, we need to talk" stated Michelle firmly as she aided her in sitting up. Clearly she was in need of some tough love. Peter's had been too tough but Michelle figured she would have a hand at trying to get Carla back on the straight and narrow. If not for her own sake then at least for her Daughter's.