Chapter 25 - The Wedding (Part 2)
Peter's head was spinning, as were the walls around him. He could barely sit up straight. He had downed four glasses of whiskey and Gary was pouring out his fifth. Gary filled it right to the top and slid it across to him. "There you go buddy, get that down you."
The smell alone made Peter want to be sick. He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Please… no more."
Sarah, who had for the most part kept quiet, dared to speak up. "Gary, that's enough. Can't you see he's had enough?"
Gary turned the gun on her and Sarah cowered back in her seat. "I'll decide when it's enough!"
Peter looked at the whiskey swirling about in the glass as he readied himself to drink it. As he brought the glass to his lips, Adam walked in through the double doors carrying Bertie. Adam froze and his eyes went immediately to the hostages at the bar. He looked firstly at Sarah, then at Peter, then lastly at Gary who stood grinning at him from behind the bar.
"Adam, run!" Sarah cried. "Go!"
But it was too late. Gary already had the gun pointed at his head. "He's going nowhere."
"Don't be stupid, put the gun down," said Sarah. "He's got a baby for Christ's sakes! Just let them go."
"And let him miss all the fun? No, I don't think so." Gary beckoned him over. "Come join us, Adam. There's plenty of seats at the bar."
Adam thought about making a run for it, but he didn't want to take any chances, not with Bertie. He joined Sarah and looked her over to make sure no harm had come to her. "Are you okay?"
She nodded tearfully.
They refrained from touching each other, knowing it would only anger Gary if they showed any affection towards each other.
Adam noticed his uncle hunched over the bar with a glass of whiskey. Realising what was going on, he looked at Gary with disgust. "Have you been forcing him alcohol?"
Gary shrugged, not the least bit ashamed. "What? Don't look at me like that! It's his wedding day. The guy needed some Dutch courage."
Adam lightly touched his uncle's shoulder. "Peter, mate, talk to me. Are you alright?"
Peter flinched at the contact and lifted his head. His nephew's blurry face came into focus. Peter's speech was slow and slurred. "Adam, what are you… what're you doing here? You shouldn't be here."
"I came to find you," Adam said.
Peter's heart sank even more at seeing little Bertie in his arms.
"Right, that's enough catching up!" hissed Gary. He ordered Adam to sit down and give him his phone.
"This is insane," Adam said, handing it over. Then he laughed. "Wait, what am I saying? You've always been insane!"
"Watch it," Gary warned.
"Or what?" Adam challenged him. "What are you gonna do big man? Shoot me?"
"Don't tempt me."
Adam carried on in spite of Gary's warning. "Have you even thought this through? Peter's getting married today! Don't you think people are going to notice if he doesn't show up to his own wedding? They'll come looking."
Gary pressed the gun to Adam's forehead. "I said, stop talking."
Sarah sucked in a sharp breath. "Please don't hurt him!"
Adam remained calm and collected, not wanting to betray an ounce of fear. "Why are you doing this hmm, Gary? What's this all about?… Revenge?"
"Damn right it's about revenge!" Keeping the gun on Adam, Gary's eyes shifted to Sarah. "Everything I did was for you. I took out that loan because I knew how much we were struggling. And I sabotaged that roof out of desperation… desperation to keep you and the kids safe! See, it was all for you, Sarah - all of it! And what thanks did I get? What gratitude? You washed your hands of me and jumped into bed with flash Harry over here! Answer me this. Why him? What was so wrong with me?"
"Nothing was wrong with you," Sarah cried. "I loved you. But things hadn't been right between us for a long time and I just wasn't…"
She trailed off, lowering her head as more tears fell.
Gary needed to know how that sentence ended. "You weren't what? Weren't what?!"
"Happy…" she admitted quietly, a tear falling down her cheek. "I wasn't happy."
The words stung and Gary turned his attention back to Adam. "Oh, but Mr suit and tie over here, he does make you happy? I'll tell you why he makes you happy, Sarah. It's because he drives a nice car and buys you expensive clothes. Well, I'm sorry we can't all be like that, Sarah, but I tried my best."
"I never asked you to take out that loan," Sarah fired back. "I never asked you to sabotage that roof! I never asked for any of it! So don't try and turn this around on me, because what you did, you did for yourself."
"I did it because I loved you."
His admission stunned Sarah and there was a long silence.
It could have been the trick of the light but she swore she could see tears brimming in his eyes.
However, the tender moment was cut short by someone walking in.
All heads turned to see Carla standing at the entrance of the bar in a long, black gown. The butterflies in her stomach had been replaced by a slow, sinking feeling as she realised she'd walked straight into a trap.
Gary smiled at her arrival. "Ah, here she is, the blushing bride… right on time!" He whistled appreciatively as he looked her up and down. "Doesn't she look beautiful, Peter?"
It dawned on Peter that Gary had used his phone to message Carla and his nostrils flared with rage. "You."
He pushed himself up off the barstool, swaying as the walls spun around him. His fist was clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palm, piercing the skin. He lined Gary up in his double vision and pulled back his fist.
"Peter, no!" cried Adam.
In Peter's drunken state, his hand-eye coordination wasn't the best and Gary was easily able to duck out of the way of his swinging fist.
Adam grabbed Peter by his jacket and forced him back into his seat. "Don't be an idiot, he's not worth it!"
But Peter was furious. "You bastard! You promised me you'd leave her out of this!"
Gary shrugged. "I lied."
He beckoned Carla over with his gun. "Don't be shy, come on over here and join your husband to be."
Carla didn't take a single step. She was overcome with a dizzying sense of DeJa'Vu. Of being tied up and gagged in the dark, empty factory along with Hayley. It was happening again. This was Tony all over again.
Gary started to lose his patience. "Don't make me come over there and get you."
Carla threw a desperate glance at the double doors behind her. Escape was so close, so close…
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Gary said, reading her mind. "You wouldn't want anyone to get hurt now, would you?"
As he said it, he turned the gun on Peter.
Carla's stomach clenched tightly.
Knowing better than to try her luck, she made her way to the bar and joined Peter. This wasn't how they were supposed to meet. It was supposed to be at the altar in front of their friends and family. Not like this.
Peter gave her a helpless look, one full of apology.
Gary stuck out his hand towards her. "Phone, now. Hand it over."
Carla nodded down at her attire. "Does this dress look like it has pockets to you?"
For one horrifying moment she thought he was going to body search her and was relieved when he didn't. Instead he fetched her a glass. "Now the bride's here, I think it's time for a toast!"
Carla watched as he started filling each of their glasses with whiskey. "Maria's waiting for me back at the flat," she said. "If I'm not back soon, she's going to come looking for me…"
Gary gave no reaction and continued to pour.
"Please, Gary, she's got Liam with her… I don't want them getting caught up in whatever this is."
Gary slammed the bottle of whiskey down on the counter and chucked her Peter's mobile. "Then you better give her a call."
"And say what?"
"Whatever it takes to keep her away."
Gary kept the gun on her as she made the call. After a few rings, Maria answered. She sounded panicked and anxious. "Peter? What's going on? Where's Carla?"
"Maria, it's me."
A pause. "Carla…?"
"Yeah, listen, there's been a change of plan. Peter's arranged for a car to take us so you and Liam go on ahead to the registry office and I'll meet you there."
"But Carla—"
"I'll see you there!"
Carla quickly hung up before Maria had a chance to argue.
Gary slipped the mobile back into his pocket. "Nicely played."
Then he nodded to the glasses of whiskey that were lined up on the counter. "Now, I'd like everyone to join me in raising a toast to the happy couple!"
Adam and Sarah raised their glasses but as Peter reached for his, Carla placed her hand over it. "Peter, don't."
"I have to," he said.
He shrugged off her hand and brought the glass to his lips, about to take a sip, when—
Smack!
Carla knocked the glass out of his hand and sent it flying. It hit the floor with a loud smash and the noise startled Bertie who started to cry.
Gary growled in frustration. "Great! Now look what you've done!"
Adam bounced Bertie on his knee in an effort to calm him.
Gary fetched Peter another whiskey and slid it towards him.
Carla snatched the glass away. "He's not drinking it."
"And I don't think you realise that you're not in any position to be calling the shots," Gary warned her.
The gun twitched in his hand, an attempt to intimidate her.
She just laughed. "Do you really think I'm scared of you? I've taken on plenty of bigger and uglier men in my time, believe me." She shook her head in a slow, belittling fashion. "What must your poor mother think, eh? After everything Phelan put her through… and now her own son turns out to be just like him. She must be so proud!"
Her words hit a nerve and rage flickered in Gary's eyes. "Don't compare me to Phelan! I'm nothing like him. Do you hear me? Nothing!"
"Aren't you? Because I seem to recall him storming into this very bistro on Michelle's wedding day and holding everyone hostage. How's this any different?"
"Because Phelan was sadistic, deranged, evil. Whereas I'm—"
"Whereas you're what?" she interrupted. "How are you so different, Gary?"
He struggled for an answer. "Because I'm… well, I'm…"
Bertie's crying got louder and it ruined Gary's concentration. He covered his ears. "Would someone shut that baby up!"
"I can't get him to settle," said Adam.
"You still haven't answered my question," said Carla.
"Carla." Peter said her name in warning, scared of what might happen if she continued to push Gary's buttons.
But Carla didn't back down. "No, I want him to answer my question. Tell me why you're so different, Gary. Come on, we're waiting."
Bertie's cries were deafening now and suddenly it all became too much for Gary. He shoved the gun against Carla's forehead, finger snaking around the trigger. His eyes had the same feral panic they'd had the night he confessed to being the roof saboteur. "Just shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP!"
At the registry office, the guests were seated and waiting for the ceremony to get underway. There was one small problem, however. The bride and groom were nowhere to be found.
Nick and Leanne were sat towards the back of the hall. Leanne could think of a million other places she'd rather be than at the wedding of her cheating, alcoholic ex-husband. "Remind me again why we agreed to do this?"
"We're here for Simon's sake," Nick reminded her. "It's time that he saw us all getting along for a change."
"Fine, I get that," she said. "But watching our exes tie the knot is just plain weird." She looked Nick in the eye. "You can't tell me you're not the slightest bit weirded out by all this?"
"Well…" He shrugged sheepishly. "Maybe just a little bit."
"Exactly!" Leanne surveyed the other guests. "I heard Jenny say the dress is black. Black. Who wears a black wedding dress? The bride of Dracula, that's who!"
Leanne had spoken too loudly and Nick noticed a few of the guests looking over. "Lee, it might not be the best idea to insult the bride when we're surrounded by her friends and family."
"Fair point." Leanne looked at her teenage son who was stood at the front of the hall all by himself. She could tell by the way he was fiddling with the wedding rings that he was anxious to know where his father was. The registrar was also making a habit of checking his wristwatch. He too shared everyone's desire to get the show on the road.
"What do you reckon the holdup is?" she asked. "Why's Peter not here yet? Or Carla, for that matter?"
"Knowing Peter, he's probably stopped off for a pint somewhere."
Nick winced as Leanne's elbow came into sharp contact with his ribs. "That's not funny," she scolded him. "I'm serious. What if something's wrong?"
"Like what?"
Before she had a chance to voice her concerns, the doors at the back of the hall opened up, and Johnny walked in. He appeared agitated as he marched down the aisle and joined Jenny, Ken, Claudia and Roy who were gathered near the front in an anxious huddle. They tried to keep their voices low and discreet, but nothing got past Leanne's supersonic hearing.
"Maria's just got here," Johnny informed them. "There's just one problem… Carla's not with her."
"Not with her!" Jenny exclaimed before being hushed by Claudia.
"Then where is she?" asked Ken.
"Maria said she went to the bistro. Peter had a surprise for her. Apparently they're making their own way here."
The wrinkles on Ken's brow deepened. "Peter never mentioned anything about a surprise."
"Well, isn't this typical," said Jenny. "We can't have a wedding without the bride and groom!"
The registrar approached the circle. "I'm sorry to rush you, but any idea when we'll be getting things moving? The next service starts in twenty minutes, I'm not sure how much longer we can wait."
"Please, just a few more minutes," said Ken. "They'll be here."
The registrar gave a reluctant nod then retreated back to the podium.
"I'll try calling Peter again," said Ken.
"And I'll try Adam," said Claudia, already dialling the number.
Jenny tried Carla's number, but just like all the other times, it went to voicemail.
No one was picking up.
Johnny took to the podium and addressed the restless guests. "I'm sorry about the delay folks. It shouldn't be much longer now, so if you'll please bear with us."
As he stepped down, a sea of speculation started up.
"What do we reckon's kicked off girls?" asked Sean, who sat the row in front of Leanne and Nick.
Sally shrugged. "Maybe one of them's got cold feet?"
"Or had a bunk up with the nanny!" said Izzy.
"Either that or one of them's hit the bottle." Sean's comment won a few laughs from the others. He nudged the woman who sat beside him. "You're practically family with them these days. Can you shed any light on what's kicked off?"
"How should I know?" came Beth's snappy reply. "I just want to know where my nephew's got to!"
As they continued to throw about wild theories, Leanne turned to Nick. Worry waned her expression. "What if something bad's happened?"
He laughed. "Like what?"
"I don't know, but this is Peter Barlow and Carla Connor we're talking about, Weatherfield's biggest disaster magnets. Anything could've happened. What if you're right. What if Peter has fallen off the wagon and that's why he's not here?"
"I was only joking," said Nick. "Peter wouldn't do that. He knows how important today is."
"Exactly, today's a big day. Which means pressure. And if there's one thing Peter can't handle, it's pressure." Leanne chewed the inside of her lip. Something was wrong, she just knew it. "Nick, would you do us a massive favour and go back?"
He frowned. "Go back?"
"To look for Peter. Find out what's going on."
Nick thought she was pulling his leg, but his laughter soon stopped. "You're actually serious? Don't you think you're being a bit overdramatic?"
"Maybe I am. But I can't shake the feeling that something isn't right. Please, Nick, just go back and check. Do it to put my mind at rest, if nothing else."
She was looking at him in that way that made it impossible for him to say no. He could never refuse her anything. Rolling his eyes, he got to his feet. "You owe me big time for this."
When Ken got back from Venice and found Rob living in his house, he had been quick to give the couple their marching orders and for the past couple of days they'd been back living at Mary's.
Tracy had Mary minding the shop so she and Rob could have the house to themselves. The plan was to spend the day slobbing on the sofa watching movies and forgetting all about the wedding of the century.
Tracy was splashed out on the sofa in a fluffy pink onesie when Rob returned from the kitchen empty-handed. She looked at him, disappointed. "Are you kidding me? There's no snacks? Not so much as a tub of Pringles?"
"There's a jar of pickles and a scotch egg."
She huffed in annoyance. "We can't have a movie marathon without snacks, it's against the law! You're going to have to nip to Dev's and get some."
"Me? I'm not going out there, what if I bump into my sister? Or worse, your brother?"
"You won't, they'll be at the church by now, or the registry office, or wherever the hell it is they're doing it this time."
"I still can't believe she's going through with it after everything I told her about Chloe. I mean, has she learnt nothing? If she's got any sense, she'll call it off or ditch him at the altar. Either suits me."
"I thought we said no wedding talk today?" said Tracy.
"You're right, sorry." He sighed heavily. "I just can't wait for us to be out of this dump. To be in our little cottage by the sea."
Tracy couldn't wait either. It was all she could think about. Amy still wasn't on board with the move but Tracy was confident she could win her daughter over in the end.
Besides, what kid didn't want the ocean on their doorstep? It sure beat grubby backstreets and terraced houses.
It was going to be a fresh start. A brand-new beginning.
She would open up a flower shop on the high street or even a tea room. She could see it now, 'Tracy's tea room' or 'Tea with Tracy' – she hadn't decided which.
Perhaps she'd go all out and become a surfer chick.
But the thing that excited her most about it all, was that she was doing it with the man she loved, a man she thought she'd never get the chance to be with again.
Rob slipped on a pair of trainers. "Right, I better go and get her highness some snacks. While I'm gone, you pick some films for us to watch. Remember the rule is we get to pick three each."
"I've already picked mine."
"Ooh, let me guess… Dirty Dancing, Seven Things I hate About You, and Bridget Jones Diary?"
Tracy sat up, offended. "Excuse me, this is me we're talking about here. I was thinking more along the lines of Friday the Thirteenth, Nightmare On Elm Street and Midnight Meat Train."
Rob's brow shot up at the last one. "Midnight Meat Train? What's that about, dare I ask?"
"A psycho that goes around killing people on the subway at midnight."
"Sounds… delightful." He walked over to the sofa and crouched down in front of her. "You're a twisted woman Tracy Lynette Barlow, but I love you."
"I love you too. But I told you, don't call me Lynette."
They shared a soft, lingering kiss then Tracy gave him a playful shove. "Now hurry up and go buy me some chocolate!"
He zipped up his jacket and blew her a kiss before heading out the door.
Once he'd left, Tracy switched on the telly and started flicking through the channels. "God, daytime TV's just not the same without Jeremy Kyle…"
She settled for a bit of Homes Under The Hammer. She was in the middle of someone giving a tour of their newly furnished property when she heard someone come in through the back door. She rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me, you forgot your wallet."
She dragged her eyes away from the telly as a shadow appeared in the doorway.
However, it wasn't Rob standing there, or Mary…
But a man she'd never seen before. He was tall and muscular and dressed in a khaki hoodie and cargo trousers.
Under his hood, she could see a set of piercing blue eyes staring at her.
Tracy leapt off the sofa. "Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?"
The man said nothing. He continued to stand there, staring at her creepily, then he stepped into the living room.
Tracy took a step back, knocking into the tall lamp behind her. She grabbed it and brandished it like a weapon. "Don't come any closer," she warned him. "There's nothing of any value here, alright? The place is full of junk. So go find somewhere else to steal from."
But the man didn't leave.
"My boyfriend's going to be back here any minute," she continued at his unnerving silence, her sweaty palms tightening around the lamp. "You should go before he gets back. He's killed someone, you know?" Then she laughed. "Wait, what am I saying? So have I!"
The intruder lowered his hood, revealing a head of silver hair and a handsome face that seemed vaguely familiar. He grinned in amusement. "Then this should be interesting."
Tracy swung the lamp as he went to attack her. He ducked out of the way of the swinging object then quickly wrestled it from her hands, throwing it across the room. The bulb smashed and shards of glass went flying across the floor.
Tracy launched cushions at him. "Keep away!"
She bolted out of the living room and into the hallway.
A pair of arms grabbed her from behind but she stuck out her left arm, elbowing him in the face.
The man gave a cry and released her and she scrambled to the front door.
She lifted the latch and the door cracked open just enough for her to see onto the street outside.
Then a muscular arm shot out from behind her and slammed it shut again.
A hand holding a damp cloth wrapped around her mouth and nose and a pungent chemical odour overwhelmed her senses, muffling her cries.
Tracy's fists began pounding on the door, hoping that someone walking by might hear her.
Her vision began to blur and tunnel and her eyelids became droopy. Soon after, her knees buckled. And everything… went… dark.
In the bistro, the atmosphere remained tense. No one could get Bertie to stop crying. He was making an almighty racket and it was driving Gary up the wall. He could no longer hear himself think as he paced erratically behind the bar, gun in hand, clutching his forehead in frustration. "Will somebody shut that baby up!"
"Give him to me." Carla took Bertie from Adam, hoping the familiarity of her touch would calm him. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "It's alright, I'm here. I've got you."
But the crying didn't stop. It was relentless.
Gary pointed the gun at Bertie. "Would somebody shut it up!"
Carla shielded Bertie from Gary's line of fire. "It's a baby! What do you expect it to do?"
Adam could see Gary was getting rattled and decided to use it to his advantage. "He's not going to stop. He's going to keep crying and eventually someone's going to hear him."
A noise sounded from the kitchen. Gary froze and his ears pricked up as a voice called out, "Only me!"
Gary turned white. He threw a panicked look at the kitchen door, then at the baby in Carla's arms. Thinking fast, he pointed the gun at Sarah and ordered her to her feet. "Quickly," he whispered. "Take Bertie and go."
She stared at him. "What?"
"Get out of here," he hissed. "Go, now! Quickly!"
Sarah wasn't sure why Gary was letting her go, but she didn't dare question it. Not wishing to wait around for him to change his mind, she took Bertie from Carla and hurried to double doors. Gary followed her. Sarah stopped briefly to look back at Adam, who nodded for her to go, then, tearing her gaze from him, she slipped out the double doors to freedom.
Gary locked the door behind her with a set of keys from his pocket which Carla recognized were her set that had mysteriously gone missing a few days ago.
The second Sarah had gone, the kitchen door flew open and a man appeared dressed in black combative gear. A woman was draped over his shoulder. She wore a pink onesie and her arms swung loosely from side to side.
As the man walked past them, Adam whispered to the others, "Is that Tracy?"
He set her down in a chair on one of the back tables. He tried sitting her upright but she kept falling forward. Eventually he gave up and left her slumped there.
His eyes darted around the room. "What was all that racket? Sounded like a baby crying in here."
A bead of sweat dripped from Gary's brow as he pretended to look around. "A baby? No, I didn't hear anything."
The man dismissed it, which relieved Gary, and turned his attention to the hostages at the bar. "So, tell me, who do we have here?"
"The lawyer, the alky, and the sister," Gary announced proudly.
"Well done, Gazza, I'm impressed." The man's piercing blue eyes seemed drawn to Carla and the corners of his mouth twitched into a crooked smile. "So you're the famous Carla Connor? It's good to finally put a face to a name, and what a pretty face it is too."
Carla looked the man up and down with distrust. She placed him at about late forties, early fifties. He had a thick head of silver hair and a light peppering of stubble on his cheeks. His most distinctive feature however were his eyes. They were the most piercing blue she'd ever seen. She had no idea who he was and yet there was something oddly familiar about him, as if she'd seen him before. But where?
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Good question, and I'll get to that. But first, let's wake up sleeping beauty." He went over to Tracy and grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling her head back, then patted her cheek. "Wakey, wakey princess!"
Tracy jolted awake. Her eyes blinked slowly at her surroundings with an increasing sense of panic. She cowered away from the man hovering over her. "What's going on? Who are you? What do you want?!"
"We were just getting to that." He pulled up a chair and sat on it back to front, resting his chin and elbow on the back of the chair. "My name is Ritchie. You might recognize me from the papers. I'm kind of a big deal at the moment. Me and Gazza, we were cellmates, and it turns out we have rather a lot in common…"
"You see, back in the day, I used to know a bloke called Rob Donovan. He was doing time for some girl's murder. It was a tragic story really, he did it all for his sister. But when she found out what he'd done, instead of giving him a compassionate ear, she shopped him in to the police, on his wedding day too, just to stick the knife in." He laughed. "So much for family loyalty, eh?"
"Anyway, I felt sorry for the bloke and the two of us ended up becoming friends. I thought I could trust him so I decided to let in on a little operation I was running on the side that was making me a few quid. Told him he could be a part of it. I didn't think for one minute that he'd betray me. But the night we were due to shift the gear, three guards stormed my cell and busted the whole operation. I had a parole hearing the next day. My lawyer was confident I'd get out. But the board doesn't take kindly to drug dealers…"
"My Parole was denied and I got three years added to my sentence as punishment, during which time my beloved wife, Sandra, died of breast cancer, and my daughter was put into care." His voice became choked with emotion. "I'll never see them again… and it all could've been so different."
"I swore to Rob that he'd regret crossing me but the lucky swine was shipped to another prison before I could get my hands on him. But I always knew that one day, if I was patient, I'd get my revenge."
"Then a few months ago I found out through the grapevine that Rob had been released and was back living with his girlfriend in a little place called Weatherfield." He gave a snort. "There I was, picking paint off the walls while he was free to do whatever the hell he wanted! Where's the justice in that? I knew I needed to find a way to get to him."
"Then, as luck would have it, I got a new cellmate…" He smiled at Gary. "This guy over here. And as we got talking, we realised what a lot we had in common. As it turns out, one of the people responsible for Gazza getting locked up was Rob's very own sister, who just so happened to live on the same street as Rob's girlfriend, the one he was shacked up with again. What a coincidence, right?"
"It occurred to us that we wanted revenge on a lot of the same people, so we came up with a plan to bust our asses out of jail and get all of you here in the same room…" He smirked as he looked at each of them. "And now here you all are, and here we are, with scores to settle."
"So wait…" Tracy blinked in confusion as she tried to keep up. "This is all about Rob?"
"It's not just about him, no… it's about all of you. None of you are blameless. One way or another, each of you played a part in ruining Gary's life, in putting him behind bars. This is as much about his revenge as it is mine. But for me, yes, it's about Rob. Thanks to him I never got to say goodbye to the two people I loved most..." He was looking at Carla and Tracy in the most sinister way. "And I'm going make sure he knows how that feels."
Author's note: Remember when Rob escaped from prison sometime in 2017, because he was being targeted by a drug's gang and subsequently had to move prisons to escape them? Well, this is my attempt at giving some more back story to that and tying it into Gary's storyline!
Thanks so much to everyone that left me a review, I can't tell you how much I appreciate each and every one of them.
Also, can I just give a big shoutout to all the other Carter writers on this site who put their time and effort into giving us some great stories! Don't know about you guys, but I'm not enjoying Corrie much atm and the lack of Carla and Peter content makes me unmotivated to write. Like, seriously, Peter's liver transplant was such a letdown. It was hyped as being the ultimate love story but felt like anything but. And then to get zero aftermath...
The show's just not the same anymore, is it?
Peter's liver transplant should've been his defining storyline, the moment his character's been building up to for years, and yet it felt like a drop in the ocean. Also, why's Carla back in the factory again? What even is the point of the factory anymore? What happened to Lucas (seriously what was the point of him?) Why haven't we seen Carter's new flat? Why are they living in the cabbie's flat and not a fancy apartment? So many questions and character inconsistencies!
Ultimately I think the show suffers from too many blah characters and too many episodes and as a result, we're not going to get that same level of Carter content that we used to.
Think back to previous years like 2014 - Carter were in practically every episode, we got to see every day domestic scenes with them - whereas now, huge chunks of time go by before we see them and they rarely share scenes together - sometimes I forget they're married!
Anyone else share these frustrations or is it just me?
Anyway, enough of me ranting, thanks so much for reading and let me know your thoughts and predictions by leaving a review!