Week 26: Keep your friends close

"Is Peter not home?" Carla asked as she stepped into the living area of the bookies flat, glancing about her curiously.

"No," Leanne answered bluntly. "Look, if you're here to see Peter–"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh?" Leanne's heart began to beat faster and her breathing shallowed as she stared at Carla nervously. "What about?"

"Look at you," Carla exclaimed as she clocked Leanne's face and reached out to her, giving her arm a friendly squeeze. "It's nothing to worry about, I just wanted to see how you were feeling after, you know…"

"Of course," Leanne said, exhaling with a voluble sigh. "Fancy a brew?"

"Ta," Carla said, watching Leanne intently as she hurried to the kitchen and got to work, switching on the kettle, taking the mugs down from the cupboard, dropping a tea bag into each, and then standing, her palms resting on the edge of the countertop while she stared into nothingness. She looked almost like her usual self, Carla reflected, but she could not hide from observant eyes the tell-tale signs that she was suffering; the pale and blotchy skin, the red and puffy eyes, the lips set into a permanent frown.

Leanne couldn't stop the intense pang of jealousy that coursed through her body when she caught sight of Carla's baby bump while she was placing the teas down onto the coffee table. It wasn't fair, she thought bitterly, that she's got her baby and I don't.

"Thanks," Carla smiled tentatively at Leanne as the other woman sat next to her on the sofa and lapsed into an uneasy silence before suddenly shifting her body to face her visitor, a resolute look on her face.

"You may as well know the truth," Leanne began. "Although I'm surprised he hasn't told you himself."

"Who hasn't told me what?"

"Peter. I assume you've seen him since…"

"Since you lost the baby? I'm sorry, that was a bit… blunt."

"Don't apologise, I need to get used to hearing it. So, have you seen him?"

"I saw him that evening it happened. I was looking after Simon, you see. But I've been down in London on business all week since then. Only got back this afternoon."

"Oh," Leanne furrowed her brow, unsure of how to continue. "Looks like it's up to me then."

"Leanne, if there's something wrong–"

"Me and Peter have split up."

"What?"

"He and Simon are staying with Ken and Deirdre for a while, until… until I find myself somewhere else to live."

"I don't understand," Carla shook her head, struggling to come to terms with Leanne's news. "Why?"

"You need to ask Peter, it was his decision."

"I'm really sorry to hear that," Carla said sincerely.

"Are you?"

"Yes, of course I am."

"I thought you would've been jumping for joy now that he's free."

"All that," Carla tried to reassure her. "It's in the past. I've moved on, we've all moved on."

"If only…" Leanne muttered under her breath.

"Listen, Leanne, I know I've done some unforgivable things in the past."

"Like trying to steal my husband?" Leanne laughed, a harsh, bitter sound.

"Yes, like that. But… can't we leave all that in the past? I think we've both learned there's more important things in life than holding grudges."

"I guess," Leanne shrugged noncommittally.

"So… friends?"

"Yeah," Leanne nodded, having decided that knowing what Carla was up to was better than wondering. "I'd like that."

"Good, that's sorted then," Carla said with a warm smile. "I hope that means you're coming next weekend?"

"What's happening next weekend?"

"My hens night. I need as many of the girls there as possible, you know, a buffer between me and me future mother-in-law."

"Oh, right."

"But you'd know all about having Gail as a mother-in-law."

"That was a long time ago."

"And then the wedding the weekend after," Carla pressed on, determined to be cheerful. "I mean, Peter's coming as well, is that gonna be weird for you?"

"No, not at all. In fact, I wouldn't miss yours and Nick's wedding for the world."

"A good night out is what you need. A few pints of voddy and you'll be right as rain. You can have all the booze I can't right now… oh, god, I'm sorry, Leanne. I've done it again."

"It's okay, I have to get used to it, don't I. I'm not pregnant anymore, my marriage is in tatters, I'm back to square one."

"You and Peter… it's definitely over?"

"Oh, yes."

"I don't understand what happened. You two seemed so… unshakeable."

"We were, until I…"

"Yes?"

"Until I messed it all up."

"What did you do? No, sorry, you don't need to tell me, it's none of my business."

"No, it's okay, I'll tell you."

Leanne looked Carla in the eye, saw her detached curiosity, her assurance that she was untouchable in the disaster that had become Leanne's life. This was way too easy, Leanne thought, to tell her here, like this. For once, Leanne needed to be patient.

"I didn't trust him," Leanne admitted, purposefully vague with her revelation. "I thought the worst of him but it turns out he's a good man. Much better than I deserve."

"Carla!" Ken greeted Carla with honest delight as he opened his front door to find her standing on his doorstep. "This is a lovely surprise."

"Who is it, grandad?" a familiar voice called out from the kitchen.

"It's Carla!" Ken called out his reply before turning back to Carla. "What can I do for you?"

"Carla!" Simon cried out as he came running into the hall and, with his usual enthusiasm, greeted her with a hug. "Do you wanna see me painting what I did at school? Please. Grandad can make you some tea, can't you grandad?"

"I certainly can," Ken confirmed. "Would you like to come through to the kitchen?"

"Thanks, Ken," Carla smiled her thanks. "Alright then, mister, let's see your masterpiece."

"What's a masterpiece?" Simon asked as he lead the procession into the kitchen.

"Well, it's a really really good bit of art," Carla explained.

"I dunno about that," Simon pondered his own artistic skills. "I'm not too good painting inside the lines. See?"

Simon held up his painting for Carla's inspection.

"Wow," Carla said as she stared at the painting before pointing at one of the many blobs of paint that were scattered over the sheet. "What is that, Si?"

"A cow," Simon raised his eyebrows, curious as to why Carla couldn't identify what was obviously a cow, to him at least.

"Oh, yeah, I can see it now, I was looking at it the wrong way, see? How about…?"

"Sheep."

"Got it," Carla nodded. "It's as I thought, Si, it's a masterpiece."

"Do you want to keep it?" Simon asked her.

"Me?" Carla was taken aback. "What about your dad? I'm sure he'd love to have it."

"But I want you to have it," Simon insisted.

"Well, then, thank you very much. I'll treasure it. Talking of your dad…"

"Peter's out back," Ken reported from the countertop where he was brewing their tea. "Go on through."

"Where are you?" Carla asked, breaking the trance Peter seemed to be in as he took a drag on his cigarette. "You look a million miles away."

"I dunno," Peter shrugged. "Somewhere bad things don't happen, where people don't make mistakes."

"Very philosophical. Talking of mistakes, I've just been to see Leanne."

"What?" Peter asked, suddenly panic-stricken. "What did you wanna see her for?"

"I thought she could do with a friend," Carla said. "You know, after the traumatic experience she's just lived through."

"Right."

"Losing her baby, losing her marriage."

"She told you?"

"What's going on, Peter?"

"It's none of your business," Peter snapped, his face twisted into a snarl. "Keep your nose out of it!"

"Fine," Carla said. "If that's how you feel."

Carla turned away from Peter, her arm outstretched and ready to twist the door handle open when Peter grabbed hold of her, pulling her back towards him.

"I'm sorry, I know it's not your fault."

"No, it's not."

"I shouldn't take it out on you."

"Yeah, well," Carla tried to be understanding. "You've been through a traumatic experience and all."

"I'm fine."

"What happened with Leanne?"

"I can't," Peter shook his head and stared at Carla, silently pleading with her to leave it, to let it be.

"She said there were trust issues."

"Did she? What else did she say?"

"Not much," Carla said, studying Peter's reactions intently. "She was pretty cagey about it, in fact."

"There's nothing more to say really," Peter shrugged. "Once the trust is gone…"

"And that's your final word on the matter, is it?"

"It is. Are you gonna accept that?"

"Yes," Carla conceded. "For now."

"You are an exhausting woman, you know that?"

"Stop complaining! You love it really, being kept on your toes."

"Hmmpf!" Peter snorted. "Possibly."

"How's Simon taking it? I know how attached he was to Leanne."

"I haven't told him yet," Peter admitted ruefully. "How am I meant to explain something like that to him?"

"Maybe," Carla began with some hesitation, "I dunno, you're holding back because there's still a chance you'll get back together?"

"No." Peter was adamant.

"How do you know if you won't give her a chance?"

"I've already given her a chance!" Peter cried. "She made me so many promises last time, but she breaks them time and time again. She won't change, Carla, she's incapable."

"Yeah, but that was after her and Nick had the affair. Oh my god, she hasn't? Not again. Who with?"

"No," Peter shook his head, desperate to throw her off the track. "It's nothing like that."

"Well then?"

"Come inside, yeah," he said, stubbing his cigarette out on the brick wall. "Otherwise Si'll be cross with me for hogging all your time."

"I know what you're doing," Carla said with narrowed eyes.

"What?"

"Diversionary tactics."

"Are they working?" he grinned at her as he opened the door without further debate and ushered her inside.

"Oh, Carla!" Deirdre cried as Carla stepped into the warm and cosy room. "I didn't know you were here."

"Hiya, Deirdre," Carla greeted her fondly. "You just get in?"

"Been down to Freshco," she reported. "Going to make me famous stuffed marrow for tea. Hey, you don't fancy joining us, do you? There'll be plenty to go round."

"Thanks, but Nick's finishing work soon and we're off into town to do a bit of shopping for bubba."

"Sit down," Ken urged her. "I've made you some tea."

"Thanks, Ken," Carla said, eyeing off the one remaining chair at the table between Simon and Peter. "Room for a little 'un?"

"There is," Peter affirmed, before nodding at her baby bump. "But, umm… I hate to break it to you, you haven't been little for a few months now."

"Oi!" Carla whacked Peter playfully on the arm and turned to Ken. "Has your son always been this cheeky?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I remember when our Tracy was a baby," Deirdre reminisced as she took a break from unloading her shopping and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "So sweet and innocent."

"What went wrong, hey Deirdre?" Peter asked, winking at Carla conspiratorially.

"Peter!" Deirdre shot him a warning look. "All I'm saying, Carla, is enjoy your little one while he's still young. Before you know it, thirty years will have passed–"

"And he'll be whacking his partner over the head with the closest objet d'art to hand, just like our Trace."

"There's no talking to you when you're like this," Deirdre huffed, turning her back on those gathered at the table to focus again on her shopping.

"Who did Aunt Tracy whack?" Simon asked solemnly, glancing from his dad to his grandad with wide innocent eyes.

"Umm…" Peter baulked, trying to find a way out of his blunder, when Carla burst into laughter, amused at Peter's gaffe. Soon enough Ken joined in and then Simon, even though he had no idea what he was laughing at.

"Is that your phone, Carla?" Peter asked, nodding towards Carla's handbag that was resting on the sofa.

Carla grabbed her bag and, after a quick rummage, pulled out her ringing phone.

"It's Nick," she announced, rising to her feet and pointing towards the hallway door. "Can I…?"

"Go," Ken urged her.

"Hiya babe," Carla purred into the phone. "Are you finished? … No, I'm not at the factory … I'm at the Barlow's … Ken and Deirdre's … because I wanted to– it doesn't matter why I'm here … okay, I'll see you in a few minutes … love you too."

Tap tap tap

"That'll be Nick," Carla said, rising to her feet. "Thank you for the tea–"

"Don't forget your painting," Simon interrupted, holding his gift out to her.

"As if I would forget," Carla said, taking Simon's painting from his outstretched hands and tousling his curls affectionately. "Thanks, Si."

"I'll walk you out," Peter said, jumping up from his seat as Carla turned to go.

"Oh, okay."

"Thank you," Peter spoke softly to her as soon as they were out of earshot. "You know, for coming round, checking in."

"Well, that's what friends are for, right?"

"Yeah, friends."

"I better…" Carla nodded towards the door, breaking Peter's lingering eye contact with some difficulty.

"Right."

"Oh, and Peter?" Carla added. "Talk to Si, yeah? Tell him what's going on, before he hears it from someone else."

"I will," Peter promised, reaching out and giving her arm a friendly squeeze.

The smile on Nick's face faded when he spotted Peter standing beside Carla. He didn't like the way he was looking at her, the way his arm was falling to his side as if he had recently been touching her.

"You ready then?" an oblivious Carla asked Nick. "To brave the shops?"

"Can't wait," Nick replied, his steely gaze his focused on Peter. "So, what have you two been up to?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Peter replied cryptically, a scowl darkening his brow.

"We've been having tea," Carla said, glancing suspiciously between the two men. "All of us. Are we going now or what?"

"Yeah," Nick said, his and Peter's eyes still locked in an intense battle of wills. "Let's get outta here."

"So, mumma-to-be," Nick said, draping his arm over Carla's shoulder as they walked away down Coronation Street. "Should my credit card be quivering in fear?"

"Forget that for a minute," Carla dismissed him. "Has something happened between you two?"

"Who?"

"You and Peter."

"Me and Peter…? What do ya mean?"

"I sensed, I dunno, a weird vibe between you two just then. There was a definite vibe."

"Well, we've never been the best of friends, have we?"

"But… that's all in the past now, innit?"

"Maybe he's still holding I grudge," Nick shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, whatever it is, I hope you two are friends again in time for your stag do next weekend."

"I don't think he'll want to come."

"Why not? Leanne's coming to mine."

"You've spoken to her?"

"Yeah, I popped round earlier to have a chat. Did you know her and Peter had split up?"

"I'd heard rumours," Nick answered as noncommittally as he could. "How is she?"

"Not the best, to be honest. She's feeling pretty low, what with losing the baby and splitting from Peter."

"And she didn't say anything about…"

"About what?"

"What happened between her and Peter."

"Not really, no."

"I guess it's none of our business."

Nick prayed that would be the last of Carla's questions; that she would accept the ending of her friend's marriage without wondering for too long about the whys and wherefores. As long as Peter and Leanne both kept their mouths shut, he would be safe.

Leanne stood at the window and stared down at Carla and Nick as they walked, his arm wrapped protectively around her, her arm snaked around his waist. They looked happy, she thought, too happy. They didn't deserve to be happy, not when she had lost everything.

Leanne sneered as she watched Nick kiss Carla on the top of her head. Her lip curled up, an outward sign of the loathing she felt for the happy couple on the street. She would let them have this moment; she knew they wouldn't have many more, not happy ones, not if she had anything to do with it.