Chapter 4: The right thing

"I don't know why we couldn't have stayed a little longer," Tracy whined as Rob guided the car at high speed along the motorway. "Go to a nice café for breakfast, take a walk on the beach."

"You know why, Trace," Rob said, his eyes fixed on the road. "I want to get back home, break the news to Carla about Peter not being with Tina. We wasted enough time staying at that hotel."

"Come on, now," Tracy purred. "It wasn't a complete waste, was it?" She reached out and ran her fingers lightly through his hair. "It was almost like a second honeymoon."

"It was a good night," Rob agreed, unable to keep the self-satisfied smirk off his face at the memory. "Real good."

"So…" Tracy murmured, leaning towards him and kissing his cheek softly, her lips lingering on his skin. "Why don't we pull over," she whispered into his ear, placing her hand on his thigh and stroking his leg, moving higher with every movement she made, "and have some more fun before we go home."

"Hmmmpf," Rob's breath came out in a shuddering sigh as he allowed his gaze to flicker first to his wife's hand on his thigh and then up to her face. For a moment, he abandoned every thought except the one that drove him to find the nearest layby. "No, Trace," he said firmly, managing to suppress his basic animal instincts. "I'm sorry. I need to see Carla."

Carla stood on the top step of the front porch of Underworld and, as carefully as she could, pulled the pram up the steps, hoping and praying that the jarring motion would not wake the baby who slumbered peacefully for now, her little body wrapped in soft blankets, her head warm and cosy inside a knitted hat.

Entering the factory, she didn't bother switching on the powerful overhead lights as she pushed the pram across the sewing room floor and entered her office. She loved being in the factory by herself, without the cacophony of the workers to distract her. And this morning, she was ready to take full advantage of the peace and quiet the early morning afforded and work through the last month's accounts.

With the baby only waking up briefly for a feed before falling asleep once more, Carla was able to finalise the accounts, reply to all of her outstanding emails, and was just about to get started on a fabric stocktake when she heard the familiar sound of the front door squeaking open and shut multiple times, the shuffling of many feet, and the chatter and laughter as her employees exchanged the latest news and gossip.

As if sensing the new arrivals, the baby stirred in her pram and began softly whimpering.

"Brace yourself," Carla whispered to her daughter, kissing her softly on her forehead. "Here come the girls."

"Good morning, Mrs Connor," Sally said in her cheerful sing-song voice as she entered the office and set down her bag on the assistant's desk. "What are you doing here? I thought you were on maternity leave?"

"Maternity leave?" Carla snorted. "And come back to find the place burned to the ground? I don't think so."

"I'll have you know," Sally began, offended by the slight on her management skills. "That I am more than–"

"Capable," Carla finished. "Yes, I know, Sal. I was joking."

"Hmmpf," Sally gave Carla her best side-eye glare before turning her attention to the baby. "Isn't she precious," she cooed. "Aren't you a darling, hmm?"

"Ooh," Beth barrelled into the office, pushing Sally aside and peering down into the pram, pressing her finger against the baby's chest, hoping for a smile in return. "I remember when my Craigie was a wee baby," she began reminiscing.

What exactly Beth remembered from Craig's infancy, Carla never found out. Soon her office was crowded with people, all wanting a cuddle with her daughter, barely noticing the mother that sat back and watched with an overwhelming sense of pride in the new life she had created.

"Why don't you go and open up the shop," Rob suggested as Tracy slid the key into the front door of Number 1. "We're losing money every minute that place isn't open."

"Me?" Tracy said indignantly, pushing open the door and leading Rob inside and down the hallway. "What about you? What are you gonna do?"

"I'm going to see my sister, remember."

"Hi, Trace," Peter greeted his sister from where he was sat at the kitchen table, enjoying a cuppa and a chat with Ken, who sat opposite his son. "Rob."

"You!" Rob sneered, pushing Tracy aside and bearing down on Peter, his hands reaching for and clutching at his shirt collar. "You have the gall to come back here and act like nothing's happened."

"Whoa," Peter rose to his feet and, pressing his hands against Rob, tried to push him away. "I'm not looking for trouble. I just came to see my family."

"Your family?!" Rob saw red and swung his fist hard into Peter's jaw, sending him flying backwards into the table and then onto the floor, where he lay sprawled, wincing as he gingerly touched his face where an angry red welt on his cheek was already stinging.

"Rob!" Tracy screamed. "What are you doing?"

"He dares talk about his family," Rob cried in his own defence. "When he abandoned his family. My sister!"

"Well, yeah," Tracy shrugged. "But there's no need to hit him."

"I'm gonna do a lot more than hit that lying, cheating bas–"

"Enough!" Ken shouted, in a tone his children were familiar with, a tone that caused them to immediately cease whatever they were doing and defer to him. "I will not stand for any violence in my home."

"But you're happy for your son to sleep around on his pregnant wife?" Rob growled defiantly.

"Of course I'm not happy about Peter's behaviour," Ken said. "But that is no excuse for fighting. I suggest you and Tracy get to work and leave us be."

"But I haven't had breakfast yet!" Tracy complained.

"Get something at Roys," Ken commanded. "I want to talk to my son in peace."

Knock knock

"I told you, Sal," Carla cried, not bothering to look up from her work. "There's no beading on the second batch."

"Have I come at a bad time?" Ken asked tentatively as he poked his head around the office door.

"Oh, sorry, Ken," Carla said, her tone softening at the sight of her father-in-law. "Of course not. Come in, sit down."

"I won't take up too much of your time," Ken promised as he approached the chair opposite Carla's that she was motioning for him to occupy. "Do you mind?" he asked, nodding at his granddaughter. "Can I?"

"Go on," she said, waiting patiently until Ken had picked up the baby and sat down, cradling her in his arms before continuing. "What can I do for you?"

"I understand you've seen Peter?"

"I have."

"I also understand you don't want Peter involved in your daughter's life?"

"He's asked you to talk to me, hasn't he?" Carla asked. "He's such a coward."

"Peter doesn't know I'm here," Ken revealed. "In fact, he told me not to interfere, that this was his mess that he had to sort out for himself."

"That's the first sensible thing he's said in a long time."

"Is it true?" Ken pressed her. "That you won't let him see his daughter?"

"He's got no right."

"He's her father."

"He gave up any rights as her father when he ran off with Tina."

"I know he's behaved badly."

"Badly?" Carla laughed bitterly. "That's one word for it."

"His actions were despicable," Ken agreed. "Unforgivable even. But still, here I am asking for you to forgive him. I'm not talking about your marriage. Put that aside for now, I'm not asking you to take him back. Just let him be a father. He's desperate to be part of her life, to be there for her like he was never able to be with Simon."

"You know he's not contacted Simon, not once since he left?"

"Like I said, his behaviour has been despicable. But he's trying his best to change, to be a better man. A better father. If you'll only let him. Please, Carla, just think about what I've said. I know you'll do the right thing. For her," he looked down at the baby in his arms. "Do the right thing for her."