Greg frowned at the way someone had parked their car, effectively blocking two spaces. He sighed, pulling his case along to the main door and typing in the entry code. Just as he reached for the handle a guy came rushing out of the building, carelessly knocking into his shoulder.

"Watch it!"

The guy didn't even apologise, just glared at him; then quickened his pace, getting in the badly parked car and speeding off. Seemed like today was just one of those days.

Greg sighed again, heading inside and up the stairs. When he got to the top he noticed number 4's door was ajar, and peered inside to see his neighbour on the floor, shaking.

"Hey- are you alright?"

Carla lifted her head sharply to where Greg was stood in the doorway, and was hit with a wave of dizziness that made her reach her hand out in front of her to try and steady herself.

"It's Carla, isn't it?" he took a few steps inside her flat. "You're bleeding," he took a few steps closer and she shrank away from him.

"Please don't come near me," she whimpered. She knew he was trying to help, but she didn't want anyone anywhere near her just then. She felt sick, and her head was pounding.

"Okay, it's okay," he took a few steps back. "But, will you let me ring for help? You've got quite a knock to your head. Might have a concussion."

"Mm," she mumbled, raising her hand to the tender area on her head and wincing.

"Was it that guy that just left? Did he do this to you?"

He took his phone out of his jacket and dialled 999. She looked up at him again, seeming a little vacant.

"Erm, yeah." she finally answered, fighting against the urge to vomit.

.

Peter produced an early Christmas present, offering it to Si whilst they were waiting for their food to cook. He'd requested fish finger sandwiches; hardly the most nutritional meal but he wasn't going to argue. Not today.

"What's that?" his eyes were undeniably curious.

"One of your Christmas presents."

"How did you get Santa to deliver it early?"

Peter tapped his nose.

"Never you mind. Me and Santa have an understanding, that's all."

Simon hesitated for only a moment longer, before reaching for the present and tearing the paper off quickly.

"Oh! I've wanted this for ages! Can we watch it now?"

"Yeah, of course. You put it in the DVD player, and I'll check on those fish fingers, hm?"

"Okay."

He smiled a little then, quickly opening up the case to get the film out.

.

When the police arrived they tried to talk to Carla about what had happened, but she was still shaken up, and wasn't entirely making sense when she answered their questions.

Greg gave them a description of the guy that had attacked her, thankful for his somewhat photographic memory as he told them details about the man's car as well.

He stayed close by as the paramedics checked Carla over. They concluded pretty quickly that she needed to be checked out at hospital, suspecting concussion and thinking she should have a CT scan just to be on the safe side.

She reached clumsily for her phone where it had fallen to the floor in the earlier scuffle, but then just stared at it blankly.

"Is there someone you want me to call for you?"

"Erm… Peter?" she offered Greg her phone, and he moved slowly over to her to take it.

"Okay," he nodded, scrolling through her contacts to find Peter's name.

She tried to stand and failed miserably, the paramedics moving to steady her as they grew more concerned about the knock to her head.

"Easy there, love," one of them said, before looking across at their partner. "We're gonna have to carry her out."

Carla let out a sound of irritation, then glanced back up at Greg as he held the phone to his ear, waiting for an answer. She really hoped Peter would be with her soon.

.

As the film came to an end, Peter pulled his phone out to update Carla only to realise it had turned itself off. He tutted, heading over to the kitchen where his charger was still plugged into the wall. When he switched his phone on, he was disappointed that she hadn't responded to his earlier text.

Then he noticed he had a voicemail.

Hi, Peter? My name's Gregory Denver, I'm Carla's neighbour - from number six... I don't know exactly what's happened but I found her in a bit of a state, and she's being taken to hospital… they think she's got a concussion but they're not sure how serious it is yet. She asked for you...

Peter felt panic and worry overwhelm him, as a dozen questions filled his head. What had happened? Was she hurt? Had she had an accident? Had she…

No.

He took a breath. He couldn't let himself think she'd tried to end it again. He knew she wouldn't do that. She'd been happy when he left, not distressed. But something had happened, and he needed to know she was okay.

"Si,"

Simon turned round at the sound of panic in his dad's voice.

"What's up?"

"We need to go to the hospital. Turn the tele off and get your coat, quickly,"

He did as asked, waiting by the door as his dad searched frantically for something.

"Is it Leanne?"

"Oh- no. No, it's not Leanne. Uh, did you see where I put my keys, mate?"

"They were falling down the side of the couch so I put them on the hook near the door like Leanne always does."

"When did you do that?"

"When you went to the loo."

Peter took another calming breath. He'd been irritated for a moment but at least he knew where his keys were now; that was the most important thing. He couldn't bear to think of Carla alone and scared.

"Right, come on then,"

They rushed down the stairs and out to the car, Peter helping Simon fasten his seat belt before getting in the drivers seat and starting the engine.

"Who is it?"

"Ay?"

"Who's at the hospital?"

"Oh, a friend. Carla."

"Carla?"

"Yeah, you know Carla. Dark hair, owns the factory."

"Can't we go see her tomorrow?"

"No, she's all on her own,"

"Well hasn't she got someone else that can visit her? I'm tired."

"No. We won't stay long I just- I need to know she's okay."

Simon fiddled with his seat belt, thinking up another question as they were stopped at yet another set of traffic lights.

"Can't her mum visit her?"

"No. She- she's in heaven."

"Like my first mummy?"

Peter glanced sideways, worried Si might get upset. But he just looked curious.

"Yeah." The car behind peeped their horn, and when Peter looked back up he realised the lights had changed to green. "You okay?"

"Mm."

"That's not a very convincing mm."

Simon shuffled in his seat.

"Your friend must be pretty sad, not having her mummy. She might like us to sit with her for a while."

Peter smiled at his son's consideration.

"Yeah. I think she'd like that."