Chapter 7: The winds of change
Carla expertly slowed her sexy black Mercedes and glided to a stop by the side entrance of the Rovers. Before she could climb out of the car, Aidan had spotted her and was jogging over to bend her ear.
"Not now, Aidan."
But Aidan wasn't going to be put off.
"Just one minute, please Carla."
Jamie, happy and excited at the thought of spending the day at the beach with both of her parents, had bounded out of the car as soon as it stopped and had rushed to knock on the door to her dad's house.
"Well, make it quick, we've got plans," Carla had decided to humour her brother, if only for a moment.
"Look, I know you said you didn't want to invest –"
"I meant it."
"Just look at these figures," Aidan held a stuffed A4 envelope out to Carla, but Carla left him hanging.
The door opened to reveal Peter, almost as visibly excited at the day ahead as his daughter.
"Good morning, beautiful."
He bent down and picked her up, hugging her tight and spinning her around. Jamie squealed with delight.
Placing Jamie back down on her feet, Peter turned to Toyah who had been lurking unseen in the shadows of the hallway, watching. Peter kissed her on the cheek.
"Alright, love, I'll see you tonight. You sure you're right to look after the bar by yourself?"
"Yes. I'll be fine. Now go and enjoy yourself."
"Alright, Aidan?" as Peter led Jamie to the car.
"Peter."
"Listen, Carla, I'll make you a deal. You read what's in this envelope with an open mind and, if you still don't wanna invest after that, then I'll never mention it again."
"You promise? Not a word. Ever again?"
"Never."
Carla snatched the envelope out of Aidan's hand.
"You got a deal."
Aidan couldn't help but grin as Carla slid into the driver's seat; Peter and Jamie were already buckled up and impatient to get going. Carla shot Aidan a look of mock exasperation as she drove away; she couldn't tell if she was more annoyed or amused by Aidan's confident grin which he hadn't quite managed to wipe off his face as the car disappeared around the corner.
The happy little family of Carla, Peter and Jamie soon found themselves a world away from the cobbled and often claustrophobic streets of Weatherfield. Peter had directed them to a lesser-known beach away from the main tourist beaches where they could enjoy the contrasting calmness and wildness of the ocean in relative peace.
Carla had stopped off at the shops on the way to Peter's that morning to buy some cheap plastic bucket-and-spade sets which Jamie was eager to make use of straight away to build a sandcastle.
But her parent's efforts weren't quite up to Jamie's exacting standards. She marched between the two of them, barking orders about everything to do with building a sandcastle, from where to place their buckets of sand, to how hard they needed to compact the sand, and how much water should be mixed with the sand to provide optimum strength to the finished construction.
Peter laughed at his daughter's display of bossiness.
"Like mother, like daughter, ey?" Peter winked at Carla.
"Oi! Enough of that. So I taught our daughter to go after what she wants. What of it?"
"Actually I think it's kinda sweet. She's like your cute little mini me."
Carla took a few deep breaths and sat down on the sand; she'd over-exerted herself lugging those buckets of sand up from the water's edge. Her exhaustion hadn't gone unnoticed by Peter.
"You okay?"
"Me? Yeah, just gettin' old, ya know."
"You? Old?" Peter laughed. "Give me a break. You, Carla Connor, are one of those blessed few who've drunk from the fountain of youth."
"Are you trying to make me sick, Peter?"
"It was a bit of a saccharine sentiment wasn't it?"
"Yeah, a little bit."
They both laughed; Carla's laugh ended with a series of noisy shallow breaths as she desperately sucked life-giving air into her lungs. She turned her body slightly away from Peter; she didn't want him to see or hear. She closed her eyes in an effort to keep the rising nausea at bay.
Carla opened her eyes to the sound of Peter's voice.
"You know you should get stuck in before I finish the lot of these."
Carla sat up; Peter had laid out their lunch of fish-and-chips in the middle of the picnic blanket he had spread over the sand.
"I'm not hungry."
She looked over at their daughter who was making a game out of running towards the water before rushing backwards as the waves that were lapping onto the sand threatened to engulf her feet.
"Don't get your feet wet, darling."
"I won't mummy, I'm too fast for the water."
"She really loves the beach doesn't she?"
"Yeah, she was always a water baby, then when we moved down south, she couldn't get enough of it."
"She told me she misses it, the beach; that you two go every day when you're at home."
"It's kind of our special place. When we first moved down there I was, umm, not in the best head space, and, you know when it feels like the walls are closing in on you and you just wanna run away and scream? When I felt like that I went to the beach. But, the funny thing was, when I got there, I didn't feel like screaming no more. I felt, I dunno, at peace."
"It sounds like the two of you have the perfect home down there, the perfect life." Peter desperately tried to keep the bitterness from his voice.
"I guess."
"You'll wanna go back soon."
Peter spoke in an almost whisper as if saying it too loud would somehow make it a reality.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"No. The opposite actually. If it was up to me, you'd stay forever. But it's not up to me, is it?"
"Jamie's got friends there, a school she loves. I've got a business."
"It feels like I'm losing you, the both of you, all over again. And it's killing me."
Carla turned to look at Peter's anguished face.
"I will make sure you see her. You know that, don't you?"
Peter merely nodded; he didn't trust himself to speak.
Silence descended over the two ex-lovers, ex-husband, ex-wife, current parents, always parents.
Peter was the first to break the silence.
"Hey, I've been meaning to ask. Your cat, Snowy."
"What about him?"
"I couldn't quite get the truth from Jamie. Is Snowy black or white?"
Carla laughed. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it to Peter.
Peter looked; a photo of Jamie cuddling a black cat. Carla reached over and swiped to the next photo, another photo of Jamie and Snowy.
"You're welcome to have a look through the album. If you like?"
"You sure?"
"Of course, that's my Jamie album. And you are Jamie's dad."
So Peter happily swiped through the album. His eyes devoured the scenes played out within while Carla gave a running commentary on their life in Devon. Their house and garden; their little knick-knacks and pictures that made it a home; of course, the king of the house, Snowy; the little path that ran from their back gate through the fields and down to the local beach. Then there were the photos of Jamie's little friends; the tea parties they threw; the dolls they played with; the cat they tormented. And through it all, the proud and loving mum.
"Mummy!"
Carla looked up to where Jamie was standing; she had obviously ventured too close to the water and had now paid the price with two very wet feet. Carla rummaged in the large tote bag that lay on the picnic blanket, pulled out a towel and a spare pair of socks and walked them over to Jamie.
Seizing his opportunity, Peter exited the photo album titled "Jamie" and opened one called "Spain 2017". The album was obviously the documentation of a family holiday and, at first, Peter enjoyed looking at photos of Carla and Jamie, tanned and smiling at the beach, in local restaurants, exploring the historical laneways while wearing ridiculous floppy hats.
But then he swiped to a photo that made Peter freeze. He could have sworn his heart physically stopped beating when he saw it: Carla, smiling, no, beaming, both her arms wrapped around a man; his arm around her shoulder.
The man was undoubtedly beautiful; drop-dead gorgeous in fact, Peter wasn't ashamed to admit it. And he was tall; Peter hated him for that. Beneath the gently stretched fabric of the man's t-shirt was the hint of a well-toned physique; while his smooth chocolate brown skin was a strikingly beautiful contrast to Carla's.
They could just be friends. Friends hug each other, right? Peter clung desperately to this hope.
He swiped to the next photo and his heart sank. Friends didn't kiss each other. Not like that.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Jamie was running across the sand as fast as her little socked feet could carry her. She stopped right in front of Peter and whispered excitedly into his face.
"Mummy said I could have ice cream."
Carla arrived back at the picnic blanket at that moment, out of breath and clutching her lower back in pain.
"We better get going then, sweetheart."
Ignoring Carla, Peter picked up the picnic blanket and proceeded to shake it vigorously, sending a shower of sand over Carla. She choked on the sand but received no word of apology from Peter. In fact, he had already taken Jamie by the hand and was leading her back to the car. Perplexed by the sudden change in Peter's behaviour, Carla picked up her tote bag and trudged towards the beach stairs, cursing under her breath as she slipped on the shifting sands.
Carla still couldn't get her head around Peter's rudeness as she sat in the car waiting for father and daughter to return with their ice creams. The only explanation she could come up with was his devastation at the thought of her and Jamie going back home to Devon.
Carla suddenly reached for the glove box and, on opening it, retrieved the envelope she'd accepted that morning from Aiden. She was true to her word; she read the contents with an open mind.
Bang! Carla was startled at the impact on her driver's side window, but smiled when she saw that it was only Jamie, half-eaten ice cream in one hand and a big sticky grin on her face. Carla wound down the window and-
"We got you one too, mummy."
Peter handed Carla an ice cream; she looked up at him with a confused and questioning expression but all she got in return was eyes that spoke of, she wasn't sure, disappointment?
"Thanks."
She took the ice cream out of his hands and absentmindedly licked the cold, creamy confection.
The drive home was awkward to say the least. Carla didn't understand why Peter was acting strangely, but was thankful that Jamie had fallen asleep on the back seat and didn't have to feel the tension between her mum and dad. As they pulled up outside the Rovers, Carla turned to Peter.
"Do you mind looking after her for an hour or so? I've got an errand to run."
Peter accepted with such eagerness that he was out of the car and carrying his sleeping daughter inside without so much as a "by your leave" to Carla. But Carla shook it off, she'd deal with him later. Right now, she was on a mission.
"So?"
Aidan was impatient. Carla had barely entered the front door of the Nazir's where Aidan was currently lodging before he began his interrogation.
"Did you read it?"
"Yes, I read it."
"And? What did you think? I know it's risky, but if we get it right it could pay off big time."
"I agree with you."
"You what?"
"I said, I agree."
"Does that mean…?"
"I'm going to invest? Yes. On two conditions."
"Anything."
"One, no office romances, okay?"
"Agreed. And two?"
"I won't be a sleeping partner, Aidan. I wanna be part of the management.
Aidan was taken aback.
"But, don't you have a business back in Devon? It's gonna be pretty hard to run Underworld here in Weatherfield while you're living in Devon."
"That's the thing. Me and Jamie, we're not going back to Devon. We're staying here. For good."