The sudden cool gust of wind sent a chill through his body. Shivering, he shifted his footing, turning the collar of his coat to the cold and pressed his back against the stone wall, further cloaking himself into the shadows, his eyes fixed upon the pub across from him.

'Come on,' he silently pleaded to the closed doors, 'come on just let me see you…'

He pulled his mobile out of his coat, quickly glancing at the time. Shaking his head, he shoved the phone back into his pocket with a grunt.

He couldn't afford to mess this up again. Not after what happened last time…

All his scheming, his planning; all that hard work had been for nothing.

Everything had gone wrong.

He had been given one more chance to make things right and he hadn't planned on screwing it up. But as the night wore on, he had started to feel his earlier bravado slipping away.

He had been waiting for well over two hours now, just staring at the pub, waiting for just a small sign that she was inside. But she had yet to emerge and time, he feared, was no longer on his side.

'Come on,' he spat impatiently, his jaw clenched tightly as his body bobbed up and down to ward off the chill in the air, 'come on—'

BEEP! BEEP!

He jolted at the shrill from the horn of the car. His hands shook involuntarily in his pockets, and he closed his eyes, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.

With a shake of his head, as if to remove the paralysis that suddenly engulfed him, he took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows. His eyes darted left and right along the street, before heading towards the silver car that had parked in front of the flower shop.

As he approached the passenger door, he bent at the waist and glanced inside, nodding submissively as the driver motioned for him to get in.

Taking one last look back at the pub in vain, his face fell in defeat as the doors remained closed. With a heavy sigh, he clambered into the vehicle.

"Empty handed again, is it?"

He couldn't find the words to respond, his eyes fixated instead on the man next to him, noting the subtle clenching of his jaw as he continued to stare straight through the windshield.

"Do you know what time it is?" The driver asked, his fingers tapping calmly on the steering wheel.

"Look, I—"

"We're in the final hour of last chance o'clock," his cold blue-gray eyes locked upon the frightened cerulean ones of his passenger, "and I'm afraid your time has come to an end," his lips tugged up into a smirk. "So, unless you've got something to show for all the time I've graciously bestowed upon you, in the next —" the driver glanced down to his watch, "—oooh, ten seconds, I promise you're going to wish you never laid eyes on me."

"I have something, I promise, I -I just need a little more ti—"

"Wrong answer!"

The sound of the doors locking caused the passenger to jump, the echo reverberating off of the interior of the car.

"No!" He pulled repeatedly at the door handle in vain, "No, please—"

With a laugh, the driver revved the vehicle, "Time's up!"

"No, wait! Please!" He tried to pry the lock on the door open when his eyes latched onto the sudden light that spilled onto the cobblestones across the street, "Wait! Wait!" he shouted, his one hand reaching out and gripping the steering wheel while pointing with his free hand towards the pub, "There she is! That's her!"

The driver pried the offending hand off of the wheel and turned off the ignition. Ensuring the headlights were blacked out, he leaned forward, his eyes squinting as he peered through the rain that had begun to splatter upon the windshield. He watched as a dark-haired woman stood near the curb of the street, speaking to a blonde woman, who was leaning up against the doorframe of the Rovers Return. "Betty or Veronica?"

"What?"

"Oh, you pathetic…" the driver muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, "the blonde or the brunette?" he spat.

"Oh, the brunette."

"And why her?" they watched as the two women hugged, the blonde heading back inside the pub as the brunette pulled her coat tighter around herself, turning on her heel and walking away from them towards the house adjacent to the Rovers.

"Because she'll know how to get through to him. Carla, her name is."

"How does she know him?"

They watched Carla pause momentarily as she pushed the key into the lock of Number 1, her back visibly stiffening. Turning her body ever so slightly from her position at the entrance to the house, her head shifted from left to right, her eyes scanning curiously along the nearly deserted streets before her gaze fell upon their car.

"Don't. Make. A. Move." The driver warned his passenger, his eyes still fixed upon Carla while she continued to survey them a moment longer. Whether she was satisfied with the seemingly empty car or unnervedly spooked at being watched, the two men were unaware, but within moments she had twisted the key in the lock and stepped inside the house.

"Well," the driver prodded once the door closed swiftly behind Carla, "how does she know him and, more importantly, does she know who I am?"

"She's his stepmum," Jacob responded, "she already tried to warn me off of him once before, but no, she won't know who you are. Simon assured me that Little Miss musicbox told her she handled me. So she probably doesn't even know about her helping you with the deliveries or owt."

Harvey nodded, "How much do you know about her?"

"Simon's told me enough. His dad, Peter, is an alcoholic; could be dying from liver failure, and she's trying to fix the relationship after having some one-night stand with a bloke they both know."

"Who was the bloke?"

"Simon never said. But he did say, that she and his dad have been through the ringer together. Especially the last couple of years. She were in a mental ward a year or so ago for a psychotic breakdown or sommit," Jacob swallowed nervously, "So, did I pass the test?"

"Hmm," Harvey pondered for a few minutes, "You may have passed this test but you mark my words, Jakey-boy," he shook his finger at him, "you've still got a long way to go to earn my full trust back. And I'll be watching you like a hawk, you stupid little tea leaf." He shifted his glare from Jacob back to the door of Number 1, "so, infidelity, an alcoholic, and a psychotic breakdown, hey? Sounds like our young Simon's dad and this Carla have got some trust issues," Harvey smiled, "Yeah. Yeah I can work with that…"