Author's note: Thanks for the reviews! x

Chapter 19 – Baby talk

Carla woke up entangled in Peter's arms. She laid soft kisses on his chest, stirring him awake, and he smiled lazily down at her.

"Morning handsome."

He stretched his arms above his head and yawned loudly. Then his arms settled back around her naked frame and soft fingers stroked the arch of her back. Carla's chin was propped up on his chest and she was grinning up at him. "Aww, is someone a bit worn out after last night?"

"Can you blame me?"

"It was fun though, wasn't it?"

"Damn right it was," he said. Then added cheekily, "I didn't hear you complaining much either."

"Well, from what I can remember there wasn't much talking going on."

Their lips met and in one swift movement Peter rolled Carla onto her back and pinned her down by her wrists. He manoeuvred himself on top of her when suddenly the baby monitor went off with a shriek. Carla closed her eyes, sighing with disappointment. "Somebody's awake…"

"He'll stop in a minute," Peter said, nibbling on her collar bone, something that drove her wild, but to their growing frustration, the crying persisted to the point it became unignorable. Peter cursed under his breath and climbed out the bed. "I better see what his highness wants."

He headed out the bedroom and returned moments later with Bertie wriggling about in his arms, red-faced from all his crying. "I think he's perforated an eardrum," Peter said, wincing.

Carla sat up, wrapping the duvet around herself to cover her modesty. "Give him here."

Peter set the baby in her arms and the room fell silent. He stared at her in wonderment. "How do you do that? Seriously, what's your secret?"

"What can I say? It's my baby superpowers. Hey, there's a thought, maybe I should be the next Super Nanny? I'd have those kids sorted out in no time."

Peter laughed and wondered for the millionth time how he had gotten so lucky that this beautiful, wonderful woman was all his. He also had to admit that he had started to love having Bertie around. They had become a family of sorts and a part of him didn't want it to end.

But end it would…

When he returned from the bistro that night, he discovered Daniel in the flat, talking to Carla. His brother looked like he'd spent the last couple of weeks sleeping rough. He was in the same crumpled suit he'd left in and judging by the scruff on his face he hadn't been near a razor. There was a smell about him too, alcohol and cigarettes. Peter couldn't stop staring at him. "Daniel, what are you doing here? When did you get back?"

"About ten minutes ago," Carla answered for him.

"And I'm sorry for running off like I did, for leaving you with Bertie… but I just needed to get my head straight. But I'm all better now, ready to face the world. And ready to see my son." His eyes searched around the flat. "So where is he then?"

"He's asleep next-door," said Carla. "I'll go fetch him for you."

She disappeared into the bedroom and Peter and Daniel were left alone to talk.

"So where have you been all this time?"

"I crashed at a mate's place from uni."

"Oh, so you've been partying, have you?"

"I've been trying to make sense of things," Daniel said. "Don't you dare lecture me, not with the amount of times you've abandoned Simon over the years. This was a wobble, my first wobble."

They stopped arguing as Carla stepped out of the bedroom with little Bertie. Daniel rushed over and took his son into his arms. "Hey little fella, it's daddy. Remember me? I've missed you so much."

He tearfully kissed the top of Bertie's head then smiled gratefully at the couple. "Thank you so much for looking after him. I know it was wrong of me to leave him, but I promise it won't happen again. From now on, I'll be there for him, always."

Peter looked over at Carla and saw she was fighting back tears. "I'll go grab his stuff together," she said quickly and hurried off. When she returned with a bag of Bertie's things, Peter could tell straight away that she had been crying. She handed the bag over to Daniel. "I couldn't fit everything in so you'll have to come back for the rest tomorrow."

"Thanks," Daniel said, slinging the bag over his shoulder. He bounced Bertie in his arms. "Right then little man, let's get you home."

An hour after they'd left, Carla still hadn't said a word. She sat on the sofa with a bereft look about her. Peter couldn't ignore it any longer. "You okay, love? You've been very quiet."

"Have I? I guess I'm just taking in the silence. I keep expecting the baby monitor to go off. This place feels so empty now, I just… I don't know what to do with myself." Her words cast a wave of sadness but she shrugged it off. "On the plus side at least I'll get to sleep the whole night through. That's not something I've done in a while."

He sat beside her. "It's okay to be sad, you know."

She became instantly defensive. "Sad? I'm not sad. Why would I be sad?"

"You know why."

"I knew the score. This was only ever temporary. Today was always going to happen."

"True. But it doesn't make it any easier, does it?"

He reached for her but she pulled away and stood suddenly. "I've got a headache. I'm going to go take a nap."

Peter spent the next hour or so watching the telly. He wasn't paying attention to what was happening on the screen, he was too busy thinking about Carla and how quiet it all was, and how it felt wrong to be sat around when there was a baby to tend to, before remembering there was no longer a baby, and the sadness set in all over again.

The bedroom door opened with a slow creak and Carla emerged. She'd changed into her pyjamas and washed the makeup off her face. Either that, or cried it off. Peter switched off the telly and looked up at her. "How's the headache?"

"I didn't have one," she admitted quietly. "I just needed some time by myself."

She was carrying something in her arms and it was only as she got closer that he realised it was a shoebox. She sat down next to him and the box rested upon her lap. She had removed the lid so he could see right into it. Inside there was a white teddy bear, some folded clothes, a pair of little shoes, a woolly hat, a folded piece of paper, and a scan photograph.

"You were right," she said after the longest silence. "I got too attached. Letting him go was harder than I thought it was going to be."

He rubbed circles into the small of her back. "Oh, sweetheart…"

"It's the little things, you know? Bath times, the walks in the park, settling him in at night, reading him stories… I'll miss it. Is that daft?"

"It's not daft at all."

She began rifling through the shoe box. "Look at all this stuff…"

She held up a pink Baby Grow with the tags still on it. "I used to go into shops and I'd see the most adorable little outfit. Then of course I'd end up buying the matching shoes and hat which cost a bomb because it was just too cute to resist. I thought: 'my daughter can't be in any old swaddling cloth, she's got to be all designer, just like her mum.'" She laughed but the laughter was hollow and it died quickly. She unfolded a slip of paper. "I'd even written a list of names: Daisy, Juliet, Evie… I think I would've gone for Evie. I think she would've been an Evie. I guess we'll never know what she would've been, will we?"

Peter's eyes were lingering on the scan photograph, at the black and white indistinguishable blob that had been a life, his baby girl. "I had no idea you'd kept all this stuff."

"I know you're not supposed to hold onto things that make you sad but I couldn't let go. I'd hidden this stuff away. It was only when we were moving stuff in that I found it again."

She placed the lid over the box and her hand settled upon it. She looked at him and it was a stab in the heart to see the tears brimming in her eyes. "I think part of the reason I got so attached is because us being with Bertie reminded me of what could've been, you know, for us, with our baby girl. That's what I was holding onto, the memory of her, not him… does that make sense?"

He nodded silently, feeling his own tears threatening to spill. The weeks of watching Carla with Bertie had given him a glimpse into what their future could have been had their daughter lived, had he not ruined it all by having the affair. Why did he have that stupid affair?

Guilt tore at his heart and he wanted to apologise all over again. He wished for a time machine so he could go back and do things differently. He would be the best husband and the best father ever. But he couldn't change the past, nor erase the hurt he'd caused. All he could do now was try and mend the broken pieces.

"Maybe…" He went to speak but stopped himself, nerves getting the better of him.

Carla wiped her eyes. "Maybe what?"

He swallowed nervously and tried again. "You're going to think I'm mad for saying this… but maybe we should think about having a kid of our own?"

Carla stared at him, stunned. "You want to try for another baby?"

"Would it really be the worst idea in the world?"

She looked away for a moment and her mouth stammered as it searched for an answer. "Peter, I …"

He shushed her softly. "You don't have to say anything now. Just promise me you'll think about it."

Author's note: A shorter chapter this time, but hopefully you enjoyed it. So their time with Bertie has come to an end. What is next for them? Is a baby on the cards? Please review :)