Author's note: Thanks for all the lovely reviews. I didn't have a lot of time to go over this chapter so apologies for any mistakes.

Chapter 20 - And They Call It...

Carla awoke that morning to the surprise of Peter cooking breakfast. "Morning gorgeous, it's bacon and eggs on the menu. You take a pew and I'll bring our coffees over in just a sec."

"This is all very nice," she remarked as she sat down. "What's the occasion?"

"Can't a man do something for the woman he loves without there being an ulterior motive?"

Of course, Carla knew there was an ulterior motive. He brought their coffees over and she could feel his eyes watching her as she tucked into her breakfast. "So," he began and already she knew what he was about to say. "Have you thought any more about what we talked about last night? You know, about us having a kiddie of our own?"

"Oh. That." She pretended as though it had slipped her mind when really she'd thought about nothing else. "I have actually. And the answer's no."

The hopeful smile on Peter's face crumbled like a landslide. "But what about all the things you said last night? About Bertie and missing our baby girl? I thought you—"

She cut him off. "Last night I was emotional and got carried away with myself. Besides, we're not exactly spring chickens, having a kid out our age is ridiculous. We had our chance and it wasn't meant to be so let's just leave it at that." She looked up to see he had stopped eating. He was looking at her like a kicked puppy but she refused to let it sway her. "Come on, eat up, food's getting cold."

They walked hand in hand down the street, showing a united front despite not having said a word to each other since breakfast. Across the street, they saw Daniel leaving No.1 with the buggy. Peter stopped to wave but Carla hurried him along. "Come on, we're going to be late."

In the bistro things remained tense between the pair. Despite working behind the same bar they somehow managed to dance around each other and only spoke when it was about food orders. That afternoon Peter was called away to a meeting in town. Carla had gone to kiss him goodbye but he slipped past her and left without so much as a 'I'll see you later'.

An hour after Peter had gone, and Carla was still reeling from his rejection. She knew it was all because he was still upset from this morning. Nick entered the bistro, briefcase in hand, and sat himself at the bar. "Hello Nicholas, what can I get you?"

"This is so weird," he said. "It should be me serving you, not the other way round."

"Well, enjoy it. What can I get you?"

"Just a lime and soda, please. I'm meeting a client for lunch and I'd like to keep my wits about me."

"Ooh, which client?"

"Dave Hanlon."

"Ah, yeah, you'll definitely need your wits around him. He's a slippery fish is Hanlon."

"Tell me about it," Nick laughed. "I still remember the time he tried to wrangle a free meal out of me."

"That's Hanlon for you. Always cutting corners wherever he can."

Nick took out a bunch of papers from his briefcase. "I've come up with this new contract but I'm worried he's going to rip it to shreds."

Carla handed him his drink and slipped the cash into the register. Then she nodded over at the empty table in the corner. "Why don't you grab us a seat and I'll read over it?"

"Aren't you supposed to be working?"

She motioned to the sparse sprinkling of customers. "I'm hardly rushed off my feet. And besides, my bistro, my rules. Go on, sit down."

At the table Carla studied the contract in her usual meticulous fashion. "All looks good to me," she said, sliding it back to him. "Your units are fairly priced, Hanlon can't complain. And if he does, show him my way, I'll soon sort him out."

"I might hold you to that." Nick tucked the contract back into his briefcase. "Anyway, I hear Daniel got back last night. Did he explain himself, where he's been all this time?"

"He was staying with a mate from uni."

Nick looked far from impressed. "Well, at least he's back, that's the main thing. I just hope he's paying you for all those weeks of babysitting."

"I didn't mind that bit so much."

"How is it not having the baby around?"

"It's quiet."

He laughed. "Most people would be glad of the peace and quiet."

"It's too quiet."

Nick quirked his brow at her, a smirk appearing on his face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say someone's broody."

Carla threw her head back in frustration. "Oh, not you as well? I've had all this from Peter. Just because I survived a few weeks of night feeds and nappy changing doesn't mean I want to go for mother of the year."

"Why not?"

"Where do you want me to start? Babies are messy, smelly, they cry all the time, they're sick down your shirt, they need constant love and attention… need I go on?"

Nick's grin had gotten bigger. "You know what I think?"

"I don't read tea leaves and gaze into crystal balls for a living, Nick, so no."

"I think you're scared."

She sat up at the accusation, folding her arms defensively. "Scared?"

He nodded. "That what happened last time will happen again."

She might not have been a mind reader but it seemed Nick Tilsley was.

"Who's to say it won't? I wasn't a spring chicken then and I'm certainly not now, there's every chance something could go wrong." It was pointless discussing it, she had already made up her mind. "I think I should take what happened last time as a sign that motherhood just isn't meant for me."

"That's rubbish and you know it! Miscarriages happen all the time without rhyme or reason and it's horrible and unfair but it shouldn't stop you from trying again."

The pair of them talking about such a sore subject in the bistro of all places reminded Carla of the time she had consoled Nick after Erica's miscarriage. She knew by the look on Nick's face that he was thinking about it too.

He reached for her hand. "For what it's worth, I think you'd make an amazing mum."

"Hope I'm not interrupting?"

Their hands sprung apart and they looked up to see Rob standing over them, looking rather pleased with himself. Carla scowled at him. "What the hell do you want?"

Rob's eyes shifted suspiciously between the pair. "Is Peter not working today, sis? I wonder what he'd make of all this."

"There's nothing going on," said Nick. "We're just two friends having a private conversation."

"Hold hands with all your friends do you, Nick?"

Carla was considering taking a leaf out of Peter's book and punching her brother's lights out. "Is your sole purpose in life to cause trouble?"

At the mention of trouble, Tracy appeared at his side. "You take your fun where you can get it, don't you, babe?" She looked down her nose and Carla and Nick. "So what's all this then? Something we should know about?"

Carla closed her eyes. Her patience was waning. "Leave it, Trace."

"No, I won't leave it. If you're messing my brother around—"

"You'll what?" Carla challenged her. "Stave my head with a blunt instrument? Torch my flat? Push me off a balcony then finish me off with an iron pole?"

No one had noticed Hanlon approach and he looked horrified by what he had overheard. "Carla? What are you doing here? I didn't think you worked at the business anymore."

All heads turned to the man in the wheelchair.

Colour flooded Carla's cheeks. "Oh, I'm not, I…"

Hanlon let out another shocked gasp at the gentleman standing to his left. "Rob Donovan? Blimey, is that you? I thought you were in prison!"

"Not anymore," Rob said, flashing him a confident smile. "As you can see, Dave, I'm a free man."

Rob went to shake Hanlon's hand but Nick quickly stood up, outstretching his own hand towards Hanlon. "It's great you could make it, Dave. Before we talk business how about I get you a drink?"

However, Hanlon refused to shake Nick's hand. "You can forget it. The deal's off."

"What?! Why?"

Hanlon side-eyed Rob. "Because I don't like the company you keep."

Hanlon left the restaurant and Carla ensured Rob and Tracy weren't far behind him. "I don't want to see either of you in here again, do you hear me? You're both barred!" The couple left and Carla looked down at the table where Nick was hurriedly gathering up his paperwork. "Nick… I'm so sorry."

"I really needed that contract."

"I can go after him, try to talk to him—"

Nick stood, cutting her off. "No, it's fine. You've done enough."

He shoved the papers into his briefcase and hurried off.

Having been barred from the bistro, Tracy and Rob returned to Mary's where they had been staying for the past fortnight. Tracy had Mary working in the florist most days so that she and Rob could have the place to themselves. Tracy made them some lunch which wasn't quite bistro standard. She brought it over to the table and caught Rob staring at her with a funny expression. "Earlier in the bistro, was it true what Carla said about you torching her flat?" Tracy's carefree smile plummeted, as did her stomach. She was hoping he hadn't heard that part. She looked down at her feet. "Trace, what did you do?"

She couldn't tell him. If she did, he would leave her. She had tried to kill his sister (and very nearly succeeded). That wasn't something she could sugar coat.

"Look, it was a long time ago…"

"Tracy, either you tell me what happened in your own words or I go and ask Carla."

He had backed her into a corner of which there was no escape. "Alright, alright," she said, coming to sit down. She felt like she was in a police interrogation, being forced into a confession. "Okay… so I might've accidentally set fire to her flat."

"Accidentally?"

She sighed at his disbelieving tone. "You'd just been sent down, my life was in ruins, I couldn't even afford to pay for our non-existent wedding, and then there was Carla…" Tracy spat her name venomously. "Strutting around in her six-inch heels, acting as if nothing had ever happened! It made me so…angry. Why did she always walk away unscathed? Then one day I just snapped. She said something to me that I'll never forget and I lost it."

"What did she say?"

"You'll be alone till the day they stick you in the ground."

Tracy had built a thick skin during her time in prison but Carla's words had cut right to the bone. Even after all these years, she had never forgotten them.

"So I stole the keys to her flat and let myself in. It was dark so I lit a candle. Carla was asleep on the sofa. And there was this picture of you on the side. You looked so young, so happy, and suddenly this rage came over me…"

Rob looked the most afraid she had ever seen him. "You were going to kill her, weren't you?"

"I thought about it, yeah." She said it so nonchalantly that it shocked him. "I could've. If I'd wanted to. I had it in me. But I didn't. Don't you see? I couldn't do it."

"But the very fact it even crossed your mind! She's my sister! How could you?"

She stood up, banging her fist on the table. "Because I hated her!" The fury of her outburst startled her as much as it did Rob. "She destroyed my life! We had everything and she took it all away! Of course I wanted her dead! I wanted the smug bitch to burn in hell! But the fact is that when it came down to it, I couldn't do it. I walked away. But I left the candle burning…" She collapsed back into her chair, defeated. "The whole of Victoria Court went up in flames. Carla got out unscathed like always but not everyone was so lucky…"

Rob swallowed. "Who?"

Tracy closed her eyes. A tear slipped down her pale cheek. "Maddie and Kal."

"Maddie. Yeah, I remember her, she was Sophie's girlfriend. Christ, she was just a kid."

"I know."

"You killed them."

"It was an accident!"

"They still died. My sister, my one and only sister, could've died."

"I didn't want any of it to happen! Amy was in there too, you know! She almost died!" Rob was shaking his head at her, a storm swirling in his eyes, and Tracy had never felt more ashamed with herself than she did right then. She tried reaching for his hand but he hastily pulled away. "Rob, I know what I did was awful, more than that, despicable, but I was in a really dark place. I don't even recognise the person I was back then! Surely you of all people can understand that…?"

He got up from the table, a coldness to him, still avoiding her gaze. "I need some air."

It was a few hours later when he returned and Tracy had been about to go to bed. "I was starting to think you weren't coming back."

"I thought about it, believe me." He paused, letting his words settle in the silence, then his hardened expression softened. "Trouble is I love you too much."

They closed the distance between each other and Rob brought his arms around Tracy who searched his eyes. "So we're okay?"

"We'll always be okay, Trace," he said, and planted a chaste kiss on her lips. "In future, just don't go lighting any candles."

After a pretty disastrous day Carla headed home expecting to find Peter still sulking over this morning, but instead found him in the kitchen, cooking up a storm. He smiled over his shoulder as she walked in the door. "Hiya, love. Sorry I didn't come back to work, but I thought I'd make a start on the dinner."

Carla set her keys down on the side and hung up her jacket. "First breakfast and now dinner, this is all very weird. Who are you and what have you done with Peter Barlow?"

He left the pan bubbling on the hob and walked over to her. "I kind of have a confession to make."

"Let me guess? You're not really Peter Barlow, you're his clone?"

"You have a thing about clones, don't you?" He was referring back to a joke from years ago, and Carla smiled. "Anyway, this has got nothing to do with my clone. The confession is, I didn't really have a meeting in town today. I lied."

Her brow shot up. "You lied? So where were you?"

"In town booking our wedding for three weeks' time."

"Three weeks?!" Carla practically spluttered. "What happened to postponing it?"

"You said we should wait till after the funeral. Now that's out of the way and Daniel's home, I just thought, why wait?"

Carla didn't know what to say. "Blimey, you've been a busy bee."

He stepped closer, encircling her in his arms. "Come on, I've done most of the organising, there's hardly anything left to sort out. I just thought after all this misery it'd be nice for folk to have something to look forward to, you know? Well, that, and the fact I can't wait for you to be my wife." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Come on, don't leave me hanging here, what do you reckon? You up for it?"

One look into those chocolatey brown eyes and she was like putty in his hands. "Oh, what the hell," she smiled. "Why not?"

He leaned in and kissed her when a sudden noise made Carla pull away. Her eyes darted around the flat. "What the hell was that? Did you hear it? It sounded like…scratching."

She looked back at Peter and saw he had turned bright red. His feet scuffled about and he coughed awkwardly. "Oh…that's the other surprise."

She raised an inquisitive brow. "The other surprise?"

He started backing away towards the bedroom door. "Okay, with this one I need you to keep an open mind."

"Why do I not like the sound of this?"

His hand reached for the door handle. "Remember, open mind."

Carla watched with bated breath as he pushed down on the handle and the door cracked open. Something small enough to be a rat shot out at the speed of light. Paws skidded on the polished wooden floor, a collar jangled, a tail wagged, and Carla stiffened as a ball of fluff hurtled towards her. "What is that?"

"It's a puppy!"

"I can see that," she said through gritted teeth, not daring to move an inch. "But what's it doing here, in our home?"

"Well, I saw how torn up you were about Bertie, and I know you said you didn't want a kid of our own—"

"So you thought you'd buy me a puppy instead? How… thoughtful."

Peter had never looked more sheepish than he did right then. "Surprise…?"

She was about to tell him to take it back when she caught what it was doing from the corner of her eye and gave a loud shriek. "Peter, it's peeing on the floor! Do something, it's peeing on the floor!"

He chuckled and lifted the puppy into his arms. It was small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. It was one of those sickeningly cute puppies that looked like it belonged on the front of a birthday card. It had golden fur, deep brown eyes, and a big pink bow around its neck. It jumped up at Peter, licking his face, and he laughed, wiping his cheek. "You've got to admit, she's pretty cute."

"Cute?! I can think of other words."

"I think someone wants to say hello to mummy…"

Peter held the puppy out towards her and Carla backed away from it like it was a loaded gun. "Don't bring that thing anywhere near me. I'm serious, Peter. I want it gone. First thing tomorrow you're taking it back to wherever you got it from. Got it?"

The puppy was wriggling about so much that Peter set it down on the floor. He ruffled its silky fur. "Don't worry, she'll come round."

"No I won't," Carla said stubbornly. "If you want me joining you at the altar in three weeks' time then the mutt goes. I'm not kidding, it's me or the dog. The choice is yours." She laughed in spite of herself. "I thought I was going to come back here and find you sulking but instead I come home to a cooked dinner and a puppy! What goes on in that head of yours? Really, it's a mystery to me."

With that, she stormed off into the bedroom, dramatically closing the door behind her so the puppy couldn't follow. Peter crouched down and fussed the lively cockapoo. "Don't worry, princess. You're not going anywhere."

"I heard that!"

Author's note: Thank you to everyone who left a review, you're the best. I know things are a little less action-packed in the story atm so I hope it's not too boring for you all. I promise things will pick up soon, but I want a bit of calm before the storm, you know?

So Carla and Peter have a puppy! Can Peter persuade Carla to keep it? I would love to see some happy, sappy moments on the show with Carter before their next big storyline comes along and causes tension but I'm not holding my breath. Speaking of their upcoming storyline, any theories on what it might be?

As always, if you enjoyed this chapter, please show your support by dropping a review below. It really means the world and keeps my writing. x