Author's: In this chapter we'll see exactly how Simon's troubles 'collide' with Carla and Peter's love story.

Chapter 6 – The Robbery

"Steady, steady," Carla said, lowering Peter onto the sofa. They had arrived back at number one after spending the night in hospital and Peter was still in a bad way. The short walk from the car had exhausted him and he needed a minute to catch his breath.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked. "A cup of tea? Or maybe you're sick of tea. Hey, what about green tea? Roy's always banging on about that stuff, it's an antioxidant, has loads of health benefits. Even helps improve liver function, or so they say."

"A builders tea will suit me just fine."

However, despite his insistence that he was fine, Carla continued to hover. "Can I get you anything else? Something to eat? Or a blanket? Do you want me to stick the telly on?"

Peter closed his eyes with mild irritation. "Love, stop fussing."

But she couldn't help it. When she found him yesterday morning, convulsing on the floor, eyes rolled to the back of his head, foaming at the mouth, it was the most terrifying thing she'd ever seen and she was scared to take her eyes off him in case it happened again… or something worse.

"I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine, honestly."

But he didn't look fine. He looked like he'd aged ten years. He had turned into a ghost, fading a little bit more each day. She was scared that one day he'd disappear completely.

He looked at her with tired, sunken eyes. "I know you're scared, love. I'm scared too. But for my sake can we try to act as normal as possible… please?"

For him, she would do anything. "Okay," she said, forcing a smile. "If that's what you want then that's what we'll do."

Her phone started ringing and she didn't have to look at it to know who was calling.

Peter gave her a knowing look. "It's work again, is it?"

She sighed. "Yeah."

"It's fine, go."

"No way! I'm not leaving you like this."

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "I've got my dad here to keep a beady eye on me."

"He's safe with me, Carla," Ken said from somewhere behind her.

"Exactly." Peter gave a weak smile meant to put her at ease. "You go to work, sort out the riff-raff before all hell breaks loose. I'm in safe hands here. I might even start ringing up venues, see what's available."

"Venues?"

Carla turned to Ken who was looking at them with obvious confusion. She shared a knowing look with Peter before he proudly announced, "Didn't you get the newsletter? The engagement's back on."

Carla dreaded Ken's reaction to the news. After everything that had happened, she worried that he would be wary of them rushing to tie the knot, that he'd question their motives for doing so, or rather her motives. But to her surprise, the biggest of smiles lifted the old man's face. "That's wonderful news! Really wonderful. I can't wait to tell Steve and Tracy."

"I'm sure she'll be delighted," Carla muttered sarcastically.

Her phone started ringing again, a reminder that she was needed elsewhere. She sighed. "Right, I better go and see what's kicking off at that bleedin' knicker factory. I shouldn't be too long. Take it easy and if you need anything, call me and I'll be straight back. I mean it."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Love…"

"Sorry, sorry," she said, realising she was fussing again. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "I'll see you later, fiancé." She grinned at saying the word.

"Not if I see you first."

As Carla headed into the hallway, she beckoned Ken to follow her and closed the door so Peter wouldn't overhear them. Any hint of a smile dropped from her face and she lowered her voice to a serious whisper. "If anything happens, anything at all, you call me."

Ken nodded. "It'll be fine, Carla."

She wanted to believe him but couldn't shake the feeling that something awful was about to happen.

Simon told Leanne that Carla was picking him up from college so that he could spend the day with his dad, but of course, that had been a lie. Instead Simon met with Jacob in the ginnel and the pair went over the plan for that evening.

As it got dark, Simon watched from across the street as the factory workers headed home for the night. Sarah was the last to leave, locking up behind her. Simon waited around a little longer in case any stragglers were still inside, but once he was certain the place was empty, he retreated back into the ginnel and found Jacob knelt on the ground, rummaging through his rucksack.

From the bag, Jacob pulled out two balaclavas. He tossed one to Simon who caught it with surprise. "Put it on so the CCTV doesn't pick you up."

Simon slipped the mask over his head and adjusted it so he could see out of it. He froze when he saw Jacob pointing a gun at him. "Hands in the air!" Jacob barked in a phoney American accent as if he was a cop in a Hollywood movie.

Panicking, Simon did as he was told and threw his hands above his head. "Please, don't shoot!"

He sucked in a breath as Jacob's finger reached for the trigger.

Then Jacob burst out laughing and lowered the weapon. "Mate, relax, I was having you on! You didn't really think I'd cap you, did you? You crack me up!"

Simon lowered his hands, which were shaking, and nodded to the weapon. "Is that- is that real?"

Jacob admired the weapon under the street light. "Nah, course not. It's just for show, in case we run into any trouble." Then he tucked the gun into the waistband of his joggers. "So how's it looking out there? Are we good to go?"

Simon nodded. "Everyone's left for the night, the place is empty."

"And ours for the taking." Grinning, Jacob slung the rucksack over his shoulders and patted Simon's arm. "Come on, let's go."

They scurried out of the ginnel and towards the factory.

In the dimly lit office Carla sat at her desk, fingers hammering on the keyboard as she typed out an angry email to a supplier who had cocked up on a fabric delivery. It was late and she was anxious to get home to Peter, but as always, things needed doing here.

She sent Peter a text to let him know she was going to be late. A shadow came over her and she looked up to see Lucas standing in the doorway. His presence startled her and she sat up with a jolt, blinking up at him. "Jesus, you nearly gave me a heart attack! Where did you come from?"

"I waited around till the others had left." He stepped inside the office and, without waiting to be invited, sat across from her. The tension between them was so thick it could be cut with a knife. "Look, I wanted to apologise for how I handled things the other day. On reflection, I realise I may have come on a bit strong, but I still stand by what I said. I know what I feel for you, Carla, and I know we can make each other happy."

Carla pinched the bridge of her nose. "Please, not this again…" It was getting boring now. "Lucas, how many times do I have to say it? I'm with Peter. I love Peter."

"You might've convinced yourself of that, but you don't convince me. And that time we spent together in Devon, that wasn't pretend, you can't fake that kind of connection."

"I'm not getting into this again," she said with the shake of her head. "Whatever you're hoping for, whatever connection you think we have, it's all in your head, so please, leave me alone, I've got a tonne of emails to get through."

She turned her attention back to her laptop screen, hoping it would signal the end of the conversation and he'd take the hint and leave her in peace, but to her dismay, he remained where he was. "I know you and Peter like to think of yourselves as Burton and Taylor but I'd like to point out that that relationship ended badly, very badly. It wasn't some grand romance, they were addicted to each other – and that was their downfall. Do you want it to be yours?"

She snapped her laptop shut. "Lucas, I really can't deal with this right now. Would you please just go!"

"Come back to Devon with me."

The offer stunned her and her mouth fell open. "What?"

"We can begin again, give ourselves a clean slate…" He smiled, his eye twinkling. "You always liked it down by the sea."

He was being sincere, she knew that much, and she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. "Lucas… you're living in a fantasyland."

"Come with me, Carla."

The man didn't give up, she had to give him that. "Lucas, me and Peter, we're—"

Before she could finish what she had been about to say, two masked figures sprung into view. One of them was waving a gun. "Hands up and backs against the wall!"

Carla jumped out of her chair, as did Lucas, and they shared a worried look.

"Are you deaf?" cried the gunman. "Hands up and backs against the wall! Now! Come on, move it!"

They did as they were told and Carla watched as the pair approached the safe. The one with the gun kept watch over them while the other crouched over the safe and entered the combination.

But the safe didn't open.

Several attempts later, and it still didn't open.

"What's taking so long?" the gunman called over his shoulder.

"It's not opening…" said the other one.

"Well, keep trying!"

But it still wouldn't open.

Growing impatient, the gunman waved the gun at Lucas. "You!" he hissed. "Get over here and open it."

Lucas looked over at Carla, then back at the gunman. He shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Excuse me?!"

Lucas continued to stand his ground. "I said no. And if you know what's good for you, you'll stop this and walk out of here while you still can."

"You've got one last chance," the gunman warned him. "Open the safe."

Carla watched as his finger snaked around the trigger. "Lucas."

Lucas threw her a look over his shoulder as if to say, 'Don't worry, I've got this.'

He turned his attention back to the masked intruders who were now standing side by side. Their faces might have been hidden but it was clear from their voices that they weren't very old. Lucas' eyes shifted between them. "How old are you lads? Seventeen? Eighteen? Too young to be throwing your lives away, that's for sure. Go home. I bet your mothers are worried sick. This doesn't have to end badly, nobody has to get hurt here, so why don't you listen to what I'm telling you and –"

A gunshot rang out and Lucas stumbled forward, swaying slightly, before hitting the floor with a heavy thud. Carla had gone completely stiff as the gunshot continued to ring in her ears. She kept her eyes looking out straight ahead, too afraid to look down. She prayed for Lucas to get up, to make a noise, a groan, anything at all…

She waited. And waited. And waited.

Very slowly, she forced her eyes downwards. There, at her feet, face-down in a pool of blood, was her friend and business associate.

Dead.

She went to scream but it got stuck in her throat. All she could do was stare.

"You killed him," said the other boy, turning on his friend. "You said the gun wasn't real, that it was just for show… you lied to me!"

They started yelling at each other and it was only then, in the midst of their hysteria, that Carla realised she recognised one of their voices. She hoped to God she was wrong. She stared at the boy on the left, narrowing her eyes. "Simon… is that you?"

The boys stopped mid-argument and stared at her, silent.

Carla's eyes never wavered from the boy on the left. It was him, she was certain of it. "Simon?" she braved again. "Si?"

Simon didn't answer. He couldn't. It was all over. She knew it was him. The game was up. How the hell was he going to get out of this?

Then a second gunshot rang out and sent his stepmother staggering backwards into the filing cabinet, a red dot appearing on her pristine white blouse. She stared down at it in confusion as it grew bigger. Then, letting out a delayed cry, she slid down the cabinet and onto the floor, clutching her stomach.

Jacob's hand trembled as he lowered the weapon. Simon turned to him, voice full of fear. "What did you do?" But as the initial shock wore off, anger set in and Simon's nostrils flared as he shoved his friend hard in the chest. "What did you do?!"

"She knew it was you," Jacob panicked. "She would've told the coppers and that would've been it, game over!" He sounded breathless, as if about to pass out. "I had to do it…I had to!"

Jacob sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anyone else.

Simon looked over at his stepmother. She was slumped on the ground and blood was seeping through the gaps in her fingers and she tried desperately to stem the bleeding.

"We've got to get out of here," said Jacob, and his eyes darted around for the nearest exit.

However, Simon couldn't bring himself to walk away. Carla was looking at him with frightened, tearful eyes. "Simon… help me."

He wanted to help her, he really did, but his feet wouldn't budge. They were rooted to the spot, paralysed by fear.

Jacob grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him away. "I said let's go!"

Leanne was winding down for the evening with a glass of wine when a knock at the door made her jump. She wasn't expecting visitors, especially at this time of night. From behind the door, she nervously called out, "Who is it?"

"It's only me."

Relaxing at the familiar voice, she opened the door and was greeted by Peter who was wrapped up warm in a coat and scarf, a bag of Speed Dahl's takeout curry in his hand.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Wait a minute, did you walk here?"

"Would be a bit lazy of me to drive here, wouldn't it? I only live down the road."

"You shouldn't be walking anywhere in your condition, especially not in this cold weather," she scolded him. "You should be at home with your feet up, or doing a jigsaw, or however you like to relax these days."

He batted off her concern. "A bit of fresh air never did me any harm." He smiled and extended the bag of takeout towards her. "Anyway, Carla's having a late one at the factory so I picked up some curry for you, me and Si. Thought the three of us could spend some time together, watch a movie or something. Try and take his mind off what's been going on."

Leanne smiled, touched by the gesture. "Yeah, I'd like that."

He snuck a look behind her into the apartment. "So where is he then?"

She frowned. "Who, Simon? I thought he was with you."

"With me?" Peter mirrored her confusion. "I've not seen him all day."

Leanne could feel the panic begin to creep in. She folded her arms in the doorway. "Si told me that Carla was picking him up from college so he could spend the day with you."

"That's news to me."

"So he's not at your dad's?"

"No, I've just come from there."

Her heart started to race and she clawed a hand through her hair. "Then where the hell is he?!"

"Let's try to stay calm," Peter said as he followed her into the apartment. "I'll try calling him."

"That won't work."

"Why not?"

"Because I confiscated his phone, remember."

Peter stared at her. "You did what?"

"I didn't want her texting Jacob in secret did I? So I took it off him."

"But what about when he's out and about, Leanne? When he lands himself into trouble and needs to call home?" Leanne threw him an exasperated look and Peter bit his tongue. Arguing was pointless, it wouldn't help them in the here and now. "Let's try to think of the places he could be," Peter said, trying to keep a level head. "Maybe he's with Toyah. Or Carla."

Leanne nodded as she slipped on a pair of trainers. "Right, I'll go check round our Toyah's and you check the factory."

Between them they agreed to check the smoker's yard, the community garden and the red rec, knowing Simon sometimes liked to hang out there.

They hurried out of the apartment complex and onto the street below. Leanne threw a desperate look down the deserted, cobbled street. Simon could be anywhere with anyone. She just hoped he wasn't with Jacob or Harvey.

Sensing her worry, Peter lightly touched her arm. "We're going to find him, Lee. We'll meet back here in fifteen. Call me if you find him."

She nodded and they set off in different directions.

Arriving at the factory, Peter found that the main door was open. He had lost count of the number of times he'd told Carla to keep it locked when she was working late, but she never listened.

Seeing the factory in darkness without machinists and the radio on at full blast was strange, to say the least. Peter's footsteps echoed as he ventured past the rows of empty machines and scantily clad mannequins. "Hello, anyone here? Carla?"

He spotted a light was on in the office and headed towards it.

Arriving in the doorway, he froze. A man lay dead in the middle of the floor and towards the back of the office, slumped against the filing cabinet, eyes barely open, hands cradling a bloodied blouse, was Carla.

Peter's mouth fell open and he was at her side in a heartbeat. "Love, what the… what happened?!"

She tried to speak but couldn't get her words out.

"It's okay, just breathe," he said, running a hand down the side of her face. "I'm here now, it's going to be okay."

He threw a desperate look at the dead body lying a few feet away then swiftly turned his attention back to her. He lifted up the hem of her blouse to see the damage with his own eyes. The wound was deep and angry. If the colour of her blouse was anything to go by, she'd lost a lot of blood and desperately needed medical attention.

Not wasting any time, Peter tore off his jacket, rolled it into a ball, and held it to her stomach, applying it with an even pressure. Adrenalin was coursing through his veins as he focused back on her. Each rise and fall of her chest was getting harder and heavier and she was losing the battle to keep her eyes open. He lightly patted her cheek to keep her alert. "Hey, talk to me, what happened? Who did this?"

Her voice was no louder than a whisper and he had to crane his neck forward in order to hear her. "Sssss….ssss…mpphh."

"What? I don't understand, what are you trying to—"

She caught his wrist with unnatural strength and this time there was no mistaking what she said. "Simon."

"Simon…" Peter's hand stopped its rhythmic stroke of her hair and he frowned at her. "What about Simon? Was he here? Is he hurt? Did someone take him? Carla?!"

"Simon," she said again. "Simon… Sim…"

She trailed off and her grip of his wrist loosened as her eyes fluttered shut.

"Carla?" Panicking, Peter shook her fiercely. "Hey, talk to me baby, open your eyes!"

Like music to his ears, she spoke again. Her face contorted. "It hurts."

"I know it does," he said, relieved she was still with him. "But you're going to be okay. I'm going to call an ambulance and everything's going to be fine, I promise. Just hold on, love. Hold on."

Her search for Simon having proved unsuccessful, Leanne headed back to the flat, hoping that Peter had had better luck. However, upon entering the flat, she discovered Simon's trainers by the front door and his coat and rucksack were hanging up.

"Simon?"

She hurried to his bedroom and found him lying in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling. He gave no reaction to her bursting in and flicking on the light. Her relief at finding him was so immense that her knees gave out from under her and she gripped the doorway to steady herself. "Thank goodness you're alright!"

However, her relief quickly turned into anger. "Where the hell have you been? I've been going out of my mind! Don't bother telling me you were at your dad's because I know for a fact you weren't, so where were you?"

"Simon?" she hissed when he didn't answer. "Where have you been? Were you with Jacob?"

More silence.

Her foot tapped with impatience. "Simon, answer me."

The sound of sirens could be heard from outside and Leanne headed out onto the balcony to see what was going on. On the street below, an ambulance pulled up outside the factory and two paramedics raced inside the building.

A scary thought entered Leanne's head. "Peter."

He had been headed to the factory. What if he'd had another seizure? Or worse…

She hurried back to Simon's bedroom where the boy hadn't moved from his position on the bed. "Something's happening outside," she said quickly. "I'm going to see what's going on. You stay here. And don't think I've finished with you yet!"

When she arrived at the scene, a few of the other residents had gathered to see what all the commotion was about. Leanne sidled up next to Sally and Abi. "What's going on?"

Abi shrugged. "Your guess is as good a mine."

"Tim said he heard gunshots," said Sally.

Leanne's eyes bulged at her. "Gunshots?"

"That's what Tim said."

Leanne's eyes scanned over the ever-growing crowd of residents. "You've not seen Peter anywhere, have you?"

"Peter?" Abi shook her head. "No, sorry."

The knot in the pit of Leanne's stomach tightened. Then suddenly the factory doors flew open and two paramedics wheeled someone out on a stretcher. Peter was running alongside the stretcher, holding onto the hand of the woman who was lying upon it. As the stretcher whizzed past them, Leanne caught a glimpse of dark hair and a bloodstained blouse.

Sally gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth. "Was that Mrs Connor?"

"It sure looked like it," said Abi. "She did not look good."

"No, she didn't," Sally muttered darkly.

Abi shook her head in wonderment at the towering building up ahead. "What the hell went on inside that factory?"

Cathy waded in and gave Sally a gentle nudge. "Maybe your Tim was right about hearing gunshots after all." With a sigh, she continued, "I better go and find Roy. He'll want to know about this. You know how protective he is over Carla, thinks of her as a daughter."

"Good thinking," said Sally. "I'll head over to the pub and tell Jenny."

As the women departed from the crowd, the stretcher was lifted into the ambulance. Peter jumped inside before the doors closed and it sped off down the cobbled street, its siren blaring into the night.

Another ambulance quickly arrived at the scene as well as two police cars. The residents were told to stand back as the area was cordoned off with tape. Leanne, like many of the others, continued to hang around, hoping to find out more information. Everyone went quiet when the police brought out someone in a body bag.

In the waiting room, Peter couldn't stop fidgeting. His foot tapped impatiently as he glanced up at the clock. The time hadn't changed since the last time he'd looked. Every second that ticked by felt like an eternity. His stomach was tying itself in knots, the suspense was driving him crazy. He needed to know Carla was okay, and he needed to know it now.

In an effort to distract himself, his eyes wandered around the waiting room. Nina and Roy were sitting across from him. They had been the first to arrive. Roy was clutching tightly onto his beige bag while Nina picked at the empty polystyrene cup in her lap. Peter could hear Jenny's voice echoing down the corridor as she spoke on the phone to the prison.

Peter looked down at his hands. They were caked in blood. Her blood. He felt sick at the sight of them and the tapping of his foot became more erratic.

His father placed a hand on his knee, forcing it still. "You don't look so clever, son. Perhaps while you're here you ought to get yourself checked out."

"I've already told you, I'm not moving from this spot until I know Carla's safe."

Jenny returned from the corridor. "I just got off the phone with the warden," she said. "He's going to let Johnny know what's happened. Hopefully they'll let him out." She was too anxious to sit down and started to pace back and forth, hands wringing together. "God knows how Johnny's going to take it. He's already lost one child, he can't lose another, it'll finish him off…" She dismissed the thought with the shake of her head. "But Carla's a fighter, isn't she? She'll pull through this like she always does."

"You didn't see her," said Peter.

"It's important that we don't lose hope," Roy reminded them.

"Exactly," said Nina. "We need to think positive thoughts."

The minutes continued to drag and Nina fetched them all a coffee from the cafeteria. Peter refused to drink his. His nerves were already shot to pieces and caffeine would only make it worse. He kept playing the moment over in his head when he found her in the factory, lying there, covered in blood… all that blood…

He turned to his father. "What if she dies?"

"You can't think like that."

"But what if she does?"

The gravity of the situation hit Peter and suddenly it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. He started to hyperventilate, rocking back and forth, hugging his chest. "I'm the one who's supposed to be checking out, not her. She wanted to stay at home with me, didn't she? But I told her to go to work. She wanted to stay dad, but I made her go, I did, it's my fault, I made her go, I made her, me—"

"You need to calm down," Ken told him. "This isn't helping."

But it was impossible for Peter to remain calm, not when the life of the woman he loved most in the world hung in the balance. He couldn't lose her now, not after everything. She was his whole world. He'd be lost without her.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, he lifted his head, hoping it was a nurse with an update on Carla's situation. Leanne and Simon turned the corner of the waiting room and relief poured of Peter's tired features. "Simon!"

He ran over to them and threw his arms around Simon. "Oh, thank God you're alright!"

Simon awkwardly pulled away from the embrace, lowering his head. Leanne stood at the side of him and she threw a look down at Peter's bloodied hands. He quickly stuffed them inside his pockets so Simon didn't see.

"We got here as quick as we could," said Leanne, a little out of breath. "I saw Carla being lifted into the ambulance. Peter, what the hell's happened?"

"I don't know much myself," he admitted. "I went to find her at the factory and found her lying there…" His voice trailed off as the image of her bloodstained blouse flashed through his head. He gave an involuntary shiver and forced the image away. "She's in surgery now. We're still waiting for news."

Leanne gave a solemn nod and Simon lifted his head. "But she's going to be alright isn't she, dad?"

Not knowing how to answer, Peter shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, son. I just don't know."

Those weren't the words Simon wanted to hear and he took off running down the corridor.

"Simon, wait!"

"I'll go," Leanne said, and chased after him.

In the men's toilets, Leanne knocked on the cubicle door that Simon had locked himself inside. "Simon, open up."

"Go away!"

She could hear him sobbing behind the door and the sound broke her heart.

"Simon…" She closed her eyes and dropped her head against the door in defeat. "Please don't shut me out again."

At that, the door unlocked.

She pushed on it gently and it creaked open revealing Simon rocking on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Oh, Si…" Leanne knelt before him and reached out towards him, resting her hand on his knee.

At her touch, Simon looked up at her and she could see the tears running down his red cheeks. "What if she dies mum?"

"We can't think like that," she said. "She'll pull through. This is Carla Connor we're talking about here. She's like the terminator that one, survived all sorts."

But her words were of little comfort to Simon who only started crying more. She'd never seen him like this before. He hadn't been this upset when Oliver died. Leanne shuffled closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Come on darling, let's get you up. Your dad needs us out there."

Simon shook his head, avoiding her gaze. "I can't go back out there."

"Why not?"

"Because it's my fault."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What's your fault?"

He sobbed harder.

"Simon, what's your fault?" Worry was creeping into her tone. He was starting to scare her now.

He lifted his head and looked at her with bloodshot eyes. "I was at the factory, he croaked. "I was there when she was shot."

The words shocked Leanne and in reaction she pulled away from him. She stared at him as if he was no longer her son, but a stranger, someone she no longer recognised. "What are you talking about?"

"Jacob told me that Harvey was going to hurt you and dad unless I made it up to him. I heard Toyah mention the money in the safe so I came up with the plan to rob the factory. I thought if I could get Harvey the money that he'd leave us alone. The factory was supposed to be empty. And the gun, I thought it was a fake… I never thought it would go off!"

Leanne couldn't believe what she was hearing. Somehow she managed to stay calm. "So what happened when you got inside?"

"I heard voices coming from the office," he said. "It was Carla and some Irish bloke. Jacob told him to open the safe but he said no. So he shot him, stone dead. That's when Carla recognised my voice…." Talking about Carla only made the tears fall harder. "She looked right at me mum, she said my name… and he shot her! I watched her fall, watched her bleeding out on the floor…." He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to banish the horrible memory. "I wanted to help her but I was scared mum… I was scared."

Now it all made sense; why Simon had been missing all day, why he'd barely said a word since she'd found him in the flat, lying there in the darkness…

Leanne rose unsteadily to her feet and headed over to the sink. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She no longer recognised the woman staring back. She had gone to great lengths to keep Simon safe. But all the hoops she'd jumped through, the lows she'd stooped to – all of it seemed pointless now. She'd be so afraid of losing Simon but now it seemed inevitable. He had brought about his own destruction. How could she protect him after this? How could she stand by him?

"What are we going to do, mum?"

She couldn't answer.

"Mum?"

In the long, agonising silence that followed, it dawned on Simon what he needed to do. Slowly he got to his feet and met her eyes in the mirror. "Will you take me to the police station?"

In the interview room, the detective glanced down at his wristwatch before beginning the recording. "For the purposes on the tape, the time is 11:30 pm and I have here with me Simon Barlow and his mother, Leanne Battersby. Simon, could you begin by telling me in your own words the events that unfolded this evening."

"Me and my friend, Jacob, well, he's not really my friend – we went into the factory about 6 o'clock. We had a set of keys and the plan was to raid the safe. We thought everyone had gone home, we didn't think anyone was still inside."

"And what did you discover once you were inside?"

"I found Carla and this guy arguing in the office."

The detective nodded slowly. "What happened next?"

"Jacob pulled a gun on them and told the guy to open the safe, but he refused so Jacob shot him." Simon was quick to add, "I thought the gun was a fake, that it was just for show, you know, to scare them. I never thought…"

He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Tell us what happened next," said the detective.

"I started yelling at Jacob for lying to me about the gun and that's when Carla recognised my voice. She's my step mum, you see. She called my name and that's when Jacob fired the gun a second time. She grabbed her stomach and fell to the floor. I wanted to help her but I couldn't… I couldn't move."

The detective nodded slowly and wrote something down in his pocketbook. "What did you do after that?"

"We panicked so we ran away."

"And where is Jacob now?"

"I don't know," Simon shrugged. "He took off one way and I ran straight home."

"Whose idea was it to rob the factory, Simon?"

Simon looked down at his lap, the shame he felt was crippling. "Mine."

"Why did you do it?"

"Because…" He glanced sideways at his mother who nodded for him to continue. "Because I'm trouble."

The detective's brow furrowed. "What kind of trouble?"

"I got myself tangled up in this gang," Simon began. "We sold drugs, that kind of thing. Anyway, I didn't want to be part of it anymore but they wouldn't let me walk away. They said I owed them money, that I was in debt to them. They threatened to hurt my family unless I paid it off. So I came up with the plan to raid the factory safe. My stepdad owns the place, you see, so I had the keys to get in. I knew there was over thirty grand stashed in the safe. I thought if I got them the money that they'd leave me and my family alone."

"You say they threatened your family. What kind of threats did they make? Can you recall any specific ones?"

"They threatened to hurt my mum and dad, said that there better room next to my brother's graves because my parents would soon be joining him, that kind of thing."

The detective made a note of this. "I see…"

The interview went on for another hour or so before it started to wind down. Leanne, who for the most part of had kept silent, decided to speak up. "So what happens now?"

The detective closed his notebook. "A man has lost his lie and a woman is still fighting for hers," he said. "So depending on how she fares will determine the nature of the charges Simon will be looking at."

Leanne swallowed. "So we are looking at charges then?"

He nodded. "What happened tonight was very serious, Ms Battersby. Very serious indeed."

"I understand that," she said. "But surely there are mitigating circumstances here? Simon didn't want to do any of these things, he was forced to!"

"Like I said, we'll know more once we get an update on Mrs Connor's condition."

"So what are you saying?" asked Leanne. "That in the meantime we're free to leave?"

"You are, Ms Battersby. But I'm afraid Simon will be staying here with us."

Leanne's head dropped onto the table and she started to cry.

"It's okay mum," Simon assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder, but it did little to console her.

"One of our officer's will give you a lift home." The detective called the time on his watch and terminated the interview.

Leanne returned home physically and emotionally drained from the last 24 hours. In the space of day a man had died, Carla was fighting for her life in hospital and Simon was spending the night in a prison cell.

"Leanne?"

The voice made her jump and she flicked on the lights. Nick rose from the sofa and she stared at him, blinking back her surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Sarah called me about what happened at the factory so I thought I better come home." He paused. "But that's not really why I'm here."

She swallowed. Did he know about the drugs? About her joining the escort agency? About what Simon had done at the factory?

"Then why are you here?" she asked, suddenly afraid.

The smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Because I missed you."

The words were so simple yet all she needed to hear. He opened up his arms and she caved in to him, breaking down in his arms. She didn't know if there was a future for her and Nick but right now that didn't matter. All she needed was to feel his arms around her and for him to tell her that everything was going to be okay, even though it really, really wasn't. The walls of her world were crashing down around her and she needed to feel safe.

But the moment was ruined by a single question. "Where's Simon?"

Author's note: Thanks for reading! :)