Week 37: Born on this day

"Upstairs, Simon," Ken ordered his grandson as he pushed open the front door. "Get out of those muddy clothes."

"But grandad," Simon began to whine, quite oblivious to the mud stains on his jeans and his coat that he had acquired during a kick-around in the park.

"Now."

With a disgruntled sigh and an overt "ugh!" to express his feelings of extreme persecution, Simon trudged upstairs, his feet pounding heavily on each step.

"Hello, Peter?" Ken called out. "Anyone home? He'll be with Carla," he observed to Deirdre who pushed past him and into the kitchen, immediately switching on the kettle.

"It's about time they sorted themselves out," Deirdre said. "He can't expect us to drop everything to look after Simon each time Carla has a new drama. He'll never be home, not now he's got himself entangled with that one."

"Hmm…" Ken ruminated. "It's a little more complicated than that, Deirdre."

"Don't just stand there, Ken," Deirdre commanded, not in the mood to speculate on the latest gossip about Carla or anyone for that matter. "Make yourself useful and get the washing in. I've got to get the tea on."

"What did you say?"

"Washing!"

"Oh, right."

Ken obediently picked up the washing basket and, nudging open the back door, stepped into the yard to carry out his household chores.

"Alright, dad."

"Peter!" Ken gasped, surprised to see his son leaning up against the wall, his usual cigarette in hand. "When did you get back?"

"Dunno," Peter shrugged absently.

"Did Carla find you?"

"Carla?" Peter looked up keenly at the mention of Carla's name.

"Yes, I spoke to her when she dropped Simon off. She wanted to talk to you about–"

"Leanne," Peter snapped. "Yes, I know."

"So…?"

"She found me."

"And you talked things through?"

"Not really, no," Peter said with a sigh. "I might've, umm… kicked off a bit."

"Oh, Peter."

"Dad, it's fine. I've left her a message, I've apologised."

"And that's it?"

"I'm giving her space," Peter said. "What else can I do?"

"Peter," Deirdre said, opening the back door and leaning out into the yard, Peter's ringing phone in her hand. "It's Carla."

Peter looked at the phone Deirdre held out for him, but ignored it, choosing instead to take another leisurely drag on his cigarette.

"Leave it," he said dismissively. "It'll stop soon enough. See?" he sniffed as the phone fell silent, only for a moment though as it immediately began to ring again.

"Peter," Ken hissed at his son. "Are you going to answer it?"

"I'm giving her space," Peter remained stubborn.

"Fine," Deirdre said. "I'll answer it, shall I? Hello, Carla, it's Deirdre– you what? … When did they start? … Have you called an ambulance? … Don't panic–"

"Ambulance?" Peter asked. "Give that here. Carla," he said, snatching the phone off Deirdre. "What's wrong? … I'll be right there. Hold on, baby, I'm coming."


Peter pulled frantically at the factory door, and then pushed, to no avail; it was locked and it was not budging.

Bang! Bang! Bang! he pounded on the door.

"Carla!" he called out her name.

He pressed his ear up against the door, but heard nothing. And so he ran the short distance to Number 8 and knocked sharply on the front door.

"Alright!" David barked as he opened the door. "Keep your shirt on."

"Where's Nick?" Peter demanded.

"Not here, now do one."

"Where is he? It's important."

"Peter?" Kylie asked, appearing behind her husband. "What's up?"

"I need to find Nick. I need to get into the factory."

"Where's Carla?"

"She's in there, she's having contractions but, I dunno, she can't get to the door, I don't know, I–"

"It's okay," Kylie reassured him. "I've got keys. Hold on."

It felt like an age to Peter that he waited for Kylie to retrieve the set of spare factory keys that Carla had entrusted to her but, in reality, it was less than a minute before he was following Kylie as she sprinted across the factory forecourt, keys in hand.

"Carla!" Peter cried out, pushing open the factory door the moment Kylie had twisted the key in the lock. "Carla!"

"Peter."

Peter followed the sound of Carla's plaintive cry across the sewing room and into the office where he found her, on her knees on the floor, her body bent over, her breathing laboured.

"Oh, baby," he said, rushing to her and dropping to his knees next to her, rubbed her back gently. "It's okay, it's gonna be okay."

"Hospital," Carla groaned.

"Oh my god!" Kylie gasped as she ran into the office, followed closely by David. "Carla!"

"David," Peter said, rummaging in his pocket and digging out his keys. "My car's parked by the bookies. Bring it round front. Kylie," he continued as soon as David had left on his mission. "Help me get her up."

"I can't," Carla sobbed. "It hurts."

"Well, suck it up, girlfriend," Kylie said. "Unless you wanna have this baby right here on the floor, you gotta get your ass into gear and get moving."

"Since when did you get so bossy?" Carla asked, unable to keep a small smile from playing on her lips, despite the pain she was feeling.

"Since I started working for you," Kylie replied with a smirk. "Now are we going or what?"

With Kylie and Peter supporting her, one on each side, Carla rose to her feet and stepped gingerly, one foot after the other, out of the office.

"Ky," Carla whispered to the woman supporting her left arm.

"Yeah, babe?"

"It feels like I've peed my pants," she revealed, mortified at the admission. "Is that…?"

"Your waters breaking? Yeah."


"Find Nick," Peter delegated one final task to Kylie as he sat in the driver's seat of the car, the engine idling, while Carla lay sprawled on the back seat. "Tell him what's happened."

"I don't know where he is," Kylie shrugged. "He's not working today, so…"

"Try Leanne's flat."

"Leanne?"

"Trust me, he'll be there."

"Okay," Kylie nodded before glancing at Carla. "Good luck, boss."

Carla gave her a weak smiled as Peter pressed his foot down gently onto the accelerator, easing the car slowly over the cobbles, careful not to jolt the precious cargo he was carrying in the back.

"You alright there, love?" he asked, peering anxiously at Carla in the rear-view mirror.

"Yeah," Carla nodded. "Actually, Peter, I'm a little bit scared."

"I know, love, but trust me, everything is gonna be just fine."

"Promise?"

"I promise."


Bzzzzz Bzzzzz Bzzzzz

"Come on," Kylie muttered to herself as she stood at the front door to Leanne's flat, impatiently stabbing at the doorbell. "Answer the damn door!"

"Ignore it," Nick urged Leanne, wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her body close to him as they lay together, snuggled up, in Leanne and Peter's marital bed.

But–"

"It's probably just Peter, back to have another go at us."

"Hmm… you're probably right."

"Trust me," he whispered, kissing her softly. "I'm always right."

Tap

"What was that?" Leanne asked, abruptly moving her face away from Nick's to peer around at the bedroom door.

"It's nothing," Nick said, kissing her again, on the neck this time, nuzzling into her.

Tap

Tap

"What the hell?"

"Lea!" Nick called after Leanne as she jumped out of bed and, quickly wrapping a robe around her, hurried into the living room.

Tap

Something small and dark outside the window flew through her peripheral vision. Rushing to the window, she opened it and, leaning out, peered down into the street.

"What are you playing at?" she yelled down to Kylie who was standing, a handful of pebbles clutched in one hand, a single one ready to fire in the other.

"I'm after Nick."

"What makes you think he'd be here?"

"Stop playing the innocent, Leanne, it doesn't suit ya. Carla's in labour, so if Nick wants to see his son born, he better get down to the hospital quick smart."

"What did you say?" Nick appeared next to Leanne, his bare chest telling Kylie everything she needed to know.

"You are so tacky." Kylie sneered.

"Kylie!"

"The baby's on its way, Nick, you're about to become a dad."


"Can I get some help!?" Peter called out as he pulled up in front of A&E. "Hey! Get a doctor, she's in labour."

Peter rushed to open the car's back door as a uniformed hospital worker approached with a wheelchair.

"Almost there, love," Peter said as he helped Carla out of the car and into the wheelchair. "I'll be in soon."

"Peter, no!" Carla protested. "Don't leave me."

"I have to park the car, baby," he explained, his voice soft and gentle. "You'll be fine. I'll be there before you know it."

"With tears in her eyes, Carla allowed herself to be wheeled away, watching as Peter jumped back into the car and speed away in search of a parking space, all the while chastising herself for her weakness in not wanting to be alone, not even for five minutes.


"Carla Connor," Peter gasped to the nurse manning the reception counter of the maternity department, breathless after his mad dash from the parking lot and down corridor after endless corridor in his search for Carla. "I just brought her in. I'm her partner."

Peter felt he could burst with pride at the feeling that overcame him as he referred to himself as Carla's partner, forcing himself to remain calm as the nurse checked the list of patients.

"Carla Connor," he said, his finger pausing on the relevant entry. "Room three-one-five, down the end of this corridor," he pointed the way, "and to your left."

"Thank you," Peter said, immediately taking off once more, not stopping until he had entered room three-one-five.

"Peter!" Carla cried out in relief from where she was reclining on the bed. "You made it."

"I was just parking the car, silly," he reassured her, kissing her forehead softly and gripping her hand in his.

"This is Naomi," Carla said, nodding to the woman stood opposite Peter. "She's my midwife. Naomi, this is Peter."

"Pleased to meet you," Peter said, reaching out and briefly gripping the woman's extended hand.

"And you," Naomi said. "I was just explaining to Carla that she's dilated six centimetres."

"Which means?"

"Which means she's in active labour, her contractions are about three minutes apart–"

"I think one's coming now, argh!" Carla grimaced as she breathed through the contraction. "Go on, Naomi, I'm fine."

"I was about to say, now's the time for an epidural, if you wanted it. I know you have it down in your birth plan that you wanted one, do you still feel the same?"

"Yes!" Carla cried out. "Yes, please, as quick as you can."

"Alright," Naomi smiled. "I'll go organise that now. Won't be long."

"Thank you," Carla said, turning her gaze up to Peter as Naomi hurried out of the room. "I'm so glad you're here, Peter. I'm sorry about before, about our argument."

"Hey," he stopped her. "You've got nothing to apologise for. That was all my fault, all my ego's fault."

"A bit bruised, was it?"

"A little bit, yeah," Peter smiled ruefully. "I forgot for a moment what was really important."

"What's that? Ahhh!"

"Another contraction?"

"Yeah," Carla nodded, gasping between pants. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"What's really important?"

"You, you daft apeth," he said, reinforcing his point with a quick peck.

"Just checking," Carla grinned back at him. "Oh my god, Peter!"

"What?"

"Nick. Where's Nick?"

"He'll be here soon, I'm sure," Peter said, stroking her hair softly. "Kylie went to find him, remember?"


"I don't know why you all had to come," Nick said as he strode down the hospital corridor, flanked by Leanne, Gail, David and Kylie. "It could be well into tomorrow before the baby arrives, maybe the day after, who knows."

"Yes, well," Gail reasoned with him. "Whatever happens, whenever he arrives, I – we, we'd all like to be here. We're family, remember, Nick. And family sticks together."

"I guess if you're happy to wait?" Nick shrugged, stopping to address the nurse at reception. "Carla Connor?"

"We are, although I don't know what she's doing here," Gail said, casting an askance glance in Leanne's direction.

"Who's she?" Leanne snarled.

"She's not even family."

"Room three-one-five, to the end and to the left."

"Actually," Leanne took great delight in her revelation. "I'm Nick's girlfriend."

"Since when?"

"Thank you," Nick smiled awkwardly at the nurse before hissing at his mother, "Leanne's my girlfriend, mum. She has every right to be here, more importantly, I want her here, so can you please shut up!"

"Well!" Gail said, taken aback; to no effect, as Nick had already stalked off in the direction the nurse had indicated, Leanne by his side, contenting herself by whispering to David, "I don't know why he's got involved with her again, she's trouble. She'll just hurt him again."

"Zip it, Gail," David sneered. "It's his life, leave him to it."

"But–"

"Unless you want to get booted from the birth of your grandson?"

"Hmm," Gail capitulated with a deep sigh, sinking into a chair in the waiting area as Nick entered room three-one-five alone.


"Nick!" Carla cried as Nick pushed open the door. "Thank goodness Kylie found you."

"Like I was going to miss this," he said, approaching her tentatively, keenly aware of Peter's presence in the room. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, everything's fine, normal even, isn't it, Peter?"

"She's doing fantastic," Peter said, smiling affectionately down at Carla. "Six centimetres dilated."

"Six? Wow," Nick said, his eyes narrowing as he glanced from Peter to Carla. "Thank you, Peter, I take it you brought Carla in?"

"That's right."

"Like I said, thanks but, umm… I think I can take things from here."

"Actually, Nick, argh, another one…"

"That's less than three minutes now," Peter observed excitedly.

"It's going quicker than I thought," Carla gasped. "They better hurry up with that epidural, there's no way I'm doing this naturally."

"Maybe Peter can check before he goes?" Nick suggested.

"No," Carla shook her head. "I want Peter to stay."

"And why would you want that?" Nick asked, his voice suddenly cold and detached.

"Because…" Carla glanced up at Peter, who smiled down at her, giving her the strength to continue. "Because Peter's my boyfriend."

"You've got to be joking," Nick shook his head in disgust, turning on Peter. "After you had a go at me and Leanne? All the while you two are carrying on?"

"We're not carrying on," Peter was defiant. "We love each other. This is for real, it's for keeps."

"You're a hypocrite," Nick sneered at him. "I don't care what you two do outside here, I don't want you in here when my son is born."

"Nick!" Carla cried. "I want him here."

"Okay, then," Nick shrugged. "In that case, I'll go and get Leanne and bring her in. Is that alright?"

"Don't you dare."

"What's the difference?" Nick asked. "She's my girlfriend, he's your boyfriend."

"I don't want her in here."

"Listen," Peter interjected. "Why don't I give you two some space."

"Bye then," Nick said with a roll of his eyes.

"Don't let him chase you away," Carla begged. "Please, Peter, I need you."

"I'm not going, I'll just be out in the waiting room," Peter promised her. "Give you two a chance to, I dunno, experience this together. Love, he is the father."

"You'll come back in when it's time?"

"Of course," he said, kissing her forehead tenderly before retreating from the room, leaving the parents-to-be on their own.

"I see your taste in men has gone downhill since you finished with me," Nick sneered.

"Not the time, Nick."

"Sorry, but Carla, you have to admit– are you okay?"

"I'm having a contraction!" she snapped. "What do you think?"

"Just, breathe through it, like we learned in our class. Remember, breathe in… and out…"

Carla breathed in and out, just like Nick was showing her, until the contraction had passed.

"Thanks," she smiled at him gratefully. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."


"How's Carla?" Kylie asked as Peter sunk down into one in a row of sterile plastic chairs flanking the waiting area. "Is everything…?"

"Fine," Peter muttered, before taking note of the anxious faces peering at him. "Really, she's fine, she's doing fantastic."

"We're all very grateful for that," Gail said. "Considering everything."

"Considering what?" Kylie asked in confusion.

"Oh, you know, the fact that the baby's early and that Carla must've been under considerable stress for that to happen."

"Why are you looking at me when you say that?" Leanne asked.

"No reason," Gail shrugged innocently.

"If you've got summat to say to me."

"I just think it's a little hypocritical of you, the person who's caused Carla all sorts of stress, to be sat here pretending to be concerned for her."

"Since when was Carla stressed? Carla's not stressed."

"How would you know? You're too busy luring my son into bed!"

"I'd watch what you say, Gail," Leanne sneered. "Do you really think Nick would choose you over me?"

"I'm his mother!"

"Yeah, and I'm his girlfriend."

"Enough!" Peter cried. "Stop this! You should hear yourselves. You're all pathetic! If you can't support Carla and Nick without all this petty bickering then you need to leave. Hmm?" Peter glared at Gail and Leanne, silently daring them to leave. "What's it gonna be?"


"Anyone for coffee? Tea?" Peter asked, rising to his feet and shaking his legs a little, stiff as they were from sitting inactive for so long.

"Oh, thank you," Gail said gratefully. "Tea for me, please."

"Coffee," Kylie said.

"Same," added David.

"Lea?" Peter asked kindly, looking down at his estranged wife. "Can I get you summat?"

"Coffee, ta," she replied. "Why don't I come help you carry em."

"Thanks."

"Listen, Peter," Leanne began hesitantly as they walked together to the nearby vending machine. "I'm sorry about Nick. How you found out about him and me. I should've been upfront with you, it was inexcusable of me."

"It's fine," he waved off her apology. "Don't mention it."

"Really? Why the change of heart?"

"I, umm… I overreacted. The fact is, we're not together anymore, so…" he shrugged. "You've got every right to be with someone else and I've got no say in who or when. I mean, like Carla pointed out, it just proves that you and me, we weren't right for each other. So, if you can find the right bloke for you, then I should be happy for you."

"Carla?"

"What about Carla?"

"You talked about you and me with Carla?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Because…" Peter took a deep breath before continuing. "The thing is, me and Carla, we're together. A couple. Boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Yes!" Leanne snapped. "I get the picture, no need to keep going on about it. Since when?"

"Not long."

"Obviously before you had a go at me about Nick, hmm?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe you stood there lecturing me about Nick when you were doing exactly the same thing with Carla. You're a hypocrite, Peter. You're a stinking hypocrite."

"Lea," Peter said. "I'm sorry."

"Go to hell, Peter," Leanne sneered, glaring at him one last time before turning on her heel and stalking back to the waiting area.

"Leanne!" Peter called after her. "At least help me carry the drinks back."


Peter absently tore at his long since empty paper coffee cup as he sat, slumped in the rigid and unyielding chair, the clock on the wall ticking away the seconds as the group that was gathered in the waiting area sat in silence, waiting impatiently for news.

"Peter Barlow?"

"Yes, that's me," Peter said, sitting upright in his seat and staring anxiously at the nurse who had just entered the waiting area. "Is Carla…?"

"She's asking for you," the nurse said. "If you'd like to come with me?"

"What about me?" Gail interjected. "I am that baby's grandmother."

"And me," Leanne added. "If Peter's allowed in, then so should I."

"Carla's asked for Peter only," the nurse said, polite but firm. "If you'll excuse me."

"How is she?" he asked the nurse as they walked together the short distance to room three-one-five.

"Why don't you see for yourself?"

Peter walked in through the door the nurse held open for him, his eyes immediately drawn to where Carla was propped up on the bed, her face flushed and covered in a layer of sweat, tendrils of hair plastered to her forehead.

"Peter!" she gasped, reaching her hand out to him.

"Hey, baby," Peter hurried to her, taking her hand in his and kissing her softly on her forehead. "Having fun yet?"

Carla's laughter turned to a grimace as another contraction hit. "That's a strong one," she panted. "Can I push? I wanna push."

"Not yet," Naomi said as she and the nurse examined Carla once again.

"Oh, come on," Carla pleaded.

"You're almost there, let me see… yes, next contraction, you're good to go."

"Really?"

"Really," Naomi nodded, smiling at Carla. "You're fully dilated."

"About time!" Carla cried, as her contraction eased and she relaxed, conserving her energy for the next one. "I'm not what you'd call a patient person, if you hadn't noticed."

"Tell me about it," Nick joked.

"Oi, you," Carla whacked him playfully. "Enough of that."

"So, Nick," Peter said. "You're about to become a dad. How does it feel?"

"I honestly don't know," he shook his head in disbelief. "It still seems so unreal."

"Hold that thought, Tilsley," Carla said as her face contorted yet again with the onset of another contraction. "I think you're about to find out."

Carla couldn't later remember how long it took for her son to be born; at once it felt both a lifetime that she was pushing, and also the blink of the eye. All the pain and the trauma inflicted on her body as he was delivered was nothing to her, a mere inconvenience in the greater joy of welcoming her son to the world.

And, as for Nick and Peter, they put their differences aside for Carla's sake and joined together to support her, to encourage her, and to celebrate with her, when finally, that tiny little body, that precious little boy, naked as he had come into the world, was placed on Carla's chest, a blanket draped over him to keep him nice and cosy, his head nuzzled between her breasts.

"Hello, little man," Nick cooed as he tentatively placed his hand on the baby's head.

"Does dad want to clamp the umbilical cord?" Naomi asked.

"Go on," Carla urged him, her voice catching in her throat, the emotion of meeting her son for the first time almost overwhelming her.

"Hey, mama," Peter whispered to her, leaning in close and kissing her softly, his hands raking gently through her hair. "Congratulations."

"Look at him," Carla said as she stared down at her little boy, who had found his voice and was squawking in protest at his strange new surroundings, his arms flailing as he gripped onto whatever he could of his mama, comforted by the warmth of her body, the steady beat of her heart, and that familiarity of her that he had come to know so intimately over the past thirty-seven weeks; he was a part of her and she a part of him. "He's perfect."