"Hi," She greeted the woman at the host stand, "my friend booked a table, I think he's already here. Should be under Peter Barlow?"
Carla adjusted her skirt as the hostess looked at the screen in front of her.
"Ah, yes, follow me." She smiled and headed through the maze of tables in the dimly lit space. Carla had been to this restaurant once before with a client. It was nice, very nice, and certainly not what she'd been expecting when Peter had invited her out for dinner. Peter had always been a 'chippie tea on the sofa' kind of guy, even when they were married, they rarely ate at places like this. Whilst Carla had always been a fan of the finer things in life, Peters simpler tastes had never bothered her, she'd always just been happy to be with him, no matter where they were.
She spotted him first. He was sat at a table fidgeting, pulling at his necktie and playing with the salt and pepper shakers. He looked smart. Carla had agonized over what to wear. She wanted to look good, of course, but she also didn't want Peter getting the wrong idea. She'd eventually gone for a simple black shift dress, with a high neck – no cleavage on display tonight. The skirt finished just above the knee however it seemed to have shrunk since the last time she'd worn it, so she kept having to tug at it to stop it riding up. When Peter finally clapped eyes on her, he stood so quickly he almost knocked his chair over. Once he'd steadied his chair and himself, he smiled sheepishly at Carla and gestured for her to have a seat.
"Hi." He said.
"Hi yourself."
"Would you like to order drinks now, or do you need a couple of minutes?" The waitress asked.
"Do you have a wine list?" Peter asked her, Carla gave him a questioning look, "for you!" he added quickly "obviously."
"Peter its fine, I don't need to have a drink."
"No, I want you to enjoy yourself. We'll have a look at the wine list please."
"Right away." The waitress nodded.
"No arguments." Peter said as Carla opened her mouth to protest once again.
"Fine," she relented, "but I'm only having one glass."
Once they'd ordered their drinks Carla regarded Peter from across the table. She could tell he'd made a real effort for tonight and she could tell he was nervous. He was shaking his left foot and she wanted to ask him to stop but she felt mean. Carla, to her surprise, was nervous too. She had initially rejected his invitation to dinner more than once, and when she'd finally relented, she'd made it clear it was purely a friends only arrangement. She didn't want to give him the wrong impression by accepting his invite, but she wanted to acknowledge the effort he'd clearly been making since they'd been back in each other's lives. She also felt guilty for manipulating him into helping Johnny try and gain custody of Suzie, even against her better judgement, and deep down she knew it was for the best that the baby had remained with Eva. As much as Carla knew she didn't owe Peter anything, in the years since their marriage had ended the hurt he'd caused her had begun to fade and nowadays it was more of a dull ache than a knife to the heart. She also admired how he'd handled the fall out of his relationship with Toyah and she had no desire to torture him anymore than he had been already. So she'd agreed to a friendly dinner, and that's all it was going to be. However, it was also a secret friendly dinner as she couldn't face the earache she was certain to receive from Michelle and her family if they knew she was even entertaining the idea of spending time with Peter again.
"So," Peter began after taking a nervous sip of water, "how have you been?" Carla couldn't help but smile at the formality of his tone.
"Peter, just relax. This isn't our first date, we were married once remember, just talk to me like a normal person."
He laughed at this.
"I'm sorry, I know, I just honestly can't believe you agreed to this dinner and I don't want to mess it up."
He genuinely seemed in awe of the fact that she was sat in front of him, and Carla began to worry that their just friends' conversation had fallen on deaf ears.
"Peter," she paused, trying to figure out how to word what she wanted to say, without coming across too harsh. "I'm happy to have dinner with you as a friend, and I appreciate the effort you've made but please don't read any more into this than there is."
He held his hands up, "I know, I know, but only a few weeks ago I was lucky to get a 'hello' on the street, let alone you agreeing to have dinner with me. No matter in what capacity, I've missed having you in my life, and I'm grateful that you're offering even friendship, it's more than I deserve, and I know it."
"Ok," she said softly, "now let's forget the serious stuff and just try to enjoy ourselves, shall we?"
He smiled fondly at her, "you're the boss."
By the time their main courses arrived they were both more relaxed and the conversation was flowing nicely. Despite everything that had happened between them, they hadn't completely lost the dynamic that had made their relationship so good when it was working. They could always fill a silence, chat away about everything and nothing, and they could always make each other laugh. Peter also had a nasty habit of causing Carla to let down her guard, something she really didn't want to do tonight.
"How have you been, you know after everything with Aiden?" He asked with concern.
"Oh, you know." She replied dismissively, looking down into her glass of wine.
"I know it's none of my business, but if you did want to open up to someone… I know you'll be looking out for everybody else, but you need to look after yourself too."
She fidgeted in her seat, this was exactly what she didn't want to happen, if she allowed herself to be vulnerable around him she felt sure he'd say something lovely and comforting and begin to worm his way back in.
"I appreciate your concern, but honestly I'm fine. And I have people to talk to, I've got Michelle, and Roy. You don't need to worry about me."
"But you know how much I care about you." He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away sharply.
"No Peter." She said firmly, "I told you, that's not what this is about. If you want to be friends that's fine, but anything more than that is a no go."
"Friends can't show concern?"
"You can show concern, but you can't hold my hand."
After a few moments of awkward silence and food being pushed around plates Carla sighed.
"I'm sorry Peter."
"For what?" He replied feigning ignorance.
"For snapping before. I know you care about me… And I care about you." She said honestly, "but agreeing to have dinner with you was a big deal for me. I honestly never thought we'd be living on the same street again, at one point I never thought I'd even speak to you again to be honest." Peter bowed his head shamefully. "I appreciate the effort you've made, and I can see you've worked hard to change your life. But letting you in again, even as a friend, is a big risk for me. So just one step at a time yeah?"
"Does that mean maybe you'd be willing to do this again?" He chanced, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Don't push your luck" She replied playfully, "but Peter, if we do end up doing this again, not so ostentatious next time yeah?"
He looked puzzled and she gestured toward their surroundings, he glanced around him at the mood lighting and chandeliers and laughed sheepishly. She knew he was trying to impress her, but she'd told him before, she didn't need grand gestures.
"Deal." He replied.
By the time dessert arrived their conversation had switched to safer territory.
"Like I told you a few weeks ago, I honestly thought I was done with the factory, but its hard seeing it in someone else's hands. After everything that Aiden went through, it feels as though it should be with family."
"Do you think that was his intention though? He left his shares to Alya, presumably for a reason."
"Yeah the reason being he thought I didn't want anything to do with the business anymore. But I don't know. Now it just feels like another loss."
Peter looked at her sadly, she thought he might reach for her hand again, but he resisted.
"You never know, she might come around. Don't give up." He smiled at her and something in his eyes gave her more hope than she'd felt in months. How did he do that?
They ended their meal in a companionable silence, but as Peter asked for the bill the silence between them became heavy, neither sure what to do next.
"I should get going, Roy will be wondering where I am."
"You didn't tell him?" Peter asked curiously.
"It's not his business." She replied simply. "Did you tell anyone you were meeting me?"
"No, I wasn't sure if you wanted me to."
Carla was relieved, "I just can't be doing with the inevitable grilling I'd get from Michelle."
"Ah, she wouldn't be happy about this?"
"What do you think?" Carla gave a hollow laugh, "it's going to take more than treating me to a fancy dinner to get yourself back in her good graces I'm afraid. Besides, it's none of her business either. Let's just keep these dinners between us eh?"
"Dinners? Plural?" He looked so excited; she'd never been able to resist that face.
"I think we could do this again, if you promise to behave yourself." She winked at him and he shot her a cheeky grin. The truth was Carla had enjoyed herself. The past few months had been so tough, she felt like she deserved a bit of joy, even if that joy came in the shape of her cheating, alcoholic, ex-husband. In truth no one knew her better than Peter did.
They walked together to the entrance of the restaurant, his hand on the small of her back.
"Fancy a lift back?"
It was a tempting offer, but she knew what Peter was like, if she gave him and inch he would take a mile.
"These secret dinners won't stay very secret if people see you dropping me off."
"Fair point."
"I'll get a cab, its fine."
As luck would have it as they stepped outside a black cab headed down the road towards them, Carla flagged it down with ease. She turned to Peter before getting inside.
"Thank you for dinner."
"You're welcome," he smiled as she turned to open the cab door, "and Carla?" she turned back towards him exasperated but amused, "you look beautiful."
She rolled her eyes, "see you later Peter."
As the cab began to drive away, she stole one final glance through the window, predictably he was lighting a cigarette. Carla suddenly felt a rush of excitement at the thought of their next dinner, she knew she was playing with fire and this setup would possibly end in tears, but she was determined they wouldn't be hers.