As soon as he walked into Roy's flat Peter knew there was something not right. Carla was sitting on the sofa with her back to him, knees hugged tightly to her chest, showing no reaction to his arrival. With a growing sense of dread he moved to sit down next to her; he could see from the faint streaks of mascara on her cheeks that she had been crying.

"What's wrong love? Has something happened?"

She turned to look at him as he spoke, attempting to smile but failing miserably, before looking back down. He could see her agitation, she was struggling to sit still, unable to hold his gaze.

"What is it? Shall I ring Scott? Come on darling I'm getting worried now."

As he reached out to take her hand Carla pulled away, pushing herself up from the sofa and starting to pace around the living room. He stayed silent, anxiously waiting for her to speak.

"No, I'm OK…" She glanced over at him before correcting herself. "Well no I'm not, but it's not because I'm ill again." She paused, taking a deep breath, as if working up the courage to continue.

"I've done something awful and I don't know how to tell you."

Peter relaxed slightly, he could handle this; surely there was nothing she could do that was that bad, right? He almost felt guilty for assuming the worst, attributing every intense emotion she had as a sign of her illness. As long as she was healthy they could work through anything.

"Just tell me love, please? Maybe I can help?"

He watched intently as Carla moved to sit back down next to him, careful to leave a few inches gap between them. He was desperate to wrap his arm around her, reassure her; instead he gave what he hoped came across as a supportive smile, and waited for her to speak.

"I slept with someone."

He wasn't expecting that. He wasn't sure what he had thought she would tell him, but her words struck like a hammer blow. There was a heavy silence as he tried to take in what she had said. Carla was now watching him nervously, trying to suppress the fresh tears glistening in her eyes.

"I don't understand. Who? When?"

His questions came all at once. Carla again seemed unable to look at him, and was instead staring at her hands, trying to compose herself. Eventually she replied.

"It was a while ago, back last spring, when I was missing after the factory roof and Rana. I don't know the exact day. I'm so sorry Peter."

She could hold on to her emotions no longer, her tears were now flowing freely.

"Who was he Carla? You need to tell me now."

His mind was whirring, he remembered the day she has absconded from the medical centre, she had been so lost and frightened back then; even now the memory of that time and the worry that had consumed him felt so raw.

"His name was Dominic. I knew him back when we were kids, we just sort of bumped into each other one day and it happened."

So it wasn't some random stranger, did this make it better or worse? Peter couldn't decide.

"So why now, why tell me this today? I thought you couldn't remember that time. Were you lying all along?" How had she kept this from him? It didn't add up. She had been in no state to do anything back then, he felt his anger building, trying to concentrate on Carla, to control the rage threatening to overwhelm him.

"I only found out today. He came into the café and it was like the memory unlocked in my brain. I don't know how to explain in Peter. It was like it had been there all along but I thought I had imagined it or hallucinated or something, then suddenly he was there in front of me and it was real. I'm so sorry. So sorry."

She reached out to take his hand but he recoiled automatically, jumping up from the sofa, snatching his keys from the table.

"Where is he now, Carla? I'm gonna kill him!"

"Peter, please, stop!" The desperation in her cry took him aback. "This was my fault, not his. I don't know where he is. Please don't go after him."

She looked so vulnerable, her eyes pleading with him. He couldn't leave her in this state. He sat back beside her and gently took her hand in his.

"Don't you see darling, you were ill. This wasn't your fault. That bastard took advantage of you."

"No, that's not how it was Peter. I instigated it. We were both drunk but I made the first move. I think I was trying to escape from what was happening in my mind, you know?"

He shook his head, "No, he must have known something was wrong."

Carla gripped his hand tightly, "It wasn't like that, how can you know, you weren't there."

"But that's my point love, neither were you! That person before you went missing, and when you came back, it wasn't you. That person wasn't capable of making rational decisions. I'm sorry, I know it's hard but that's the truth."

He could see Carla considering this. He knew she found it difficult revisiting her memories of those weeks; in some ways she was lucky that she couldn't remember some of the darkest moments. But he needed her to understand, needed her to see things as he did.

"I dunno Peter, maybe you're right in some ways, but I honestly don't think he did anything to take advantage. I am not going to use him or my illness as an excuse, it happened, and I have to take responsibility. Please forgive me."

He squeezed her hand, wanting to reassure her but unable to shake the image now consuming his thoughts. Her and a stranger in bed together, her incapable of saying no. He tensed involuntarily as she moved to embrace him, instantly feeling guilty as she moved away again, hurt and confusion evident in her expression. She was so fragile, even now, months into her recovery he was scared that something like this would set her back. But he couldn't just forget.

The sound of a key in the door downstairs and the gentle clunk of footsteps signalled Roy's arrival. Carla quickly begged Peter not to say anything but he couldn't face staying, pretending everything was OK. He needed to get out, to think things through. Carla held onto his arm, silently pleading with him not to go as Roy came into the room, quickly picked up on the tension in the air and looked to them for an explanation.

"I need some air. I'll call you later OK?" Peter took his chance to escape and moved past Roy, desperate to get away, ignoring Carla's pleas for him to stay; he felt like he was suffocating, that he was trapped in a nightmare. As he emerged into the cool air of the street he inhaled deeply and tried to calm his breathing. He felt bad leaving Carla but knew Roy would look out for her. He couldn't forget what she had just told him, as much as he wished he could. Despite everything Carla had said he knew the person to blame. He had no idea who this Dominic was, or where he would find him, but there was one thing he was certain of. He was going to pay for what he'd done.