'Peter, Peter, what's happening?' The voice shrieks, the voice laced in panic. Her heart rate is rising and she's sweating profusely. She think that her heart is going to beat out of her chest. 'Peter don't leave me. Please don't leave me. What are you doing? What's happening?' She watches as he turns away from her, as she collapses into the ginnel, sobbing. In the blazing sunlight, it was clear as day, obvious that she was there. Yet, they ignore her. 'Don't leave. Please.'
'Si, Simon, c' mere.' The man calls, the figure going up to him. She can't tell if he can't hear her or he's blatantly ignoring her. She's calling and calling, but he turns around and walks off.
'No, no, no.' She whispers, 'not my baby. Not my little girl.' She watches as the girl walks off, away from her, to join the figures that are in the distance.
She tries to run up, grabbing them, so that she is part of the family. She runs up, trying to stop them from leaving but they seem speed up. As she trips and falls, they stop.
As she stands up, she spies them hug one another. As they fawn over one another, laughing, she has to just stand there and watch them. She desperately wants to be there, joining in, being a part of a family, their family. She wants to feel loved. She wants to be part of the scene. Then Peter turns around, looking straight past her, and she just cries out in pain.
Now all she can see are the back of their heads, keeping going away from her. 'No, no, no.' She can feel the panic rising in her stomach, crying. 'No.' She watches as they wander off, words trying to come out but failing. 'Peter, don't leave me.'
'Daddy, daddy. Watch this.' The child shouts, twirling around. It's a voice she hasn't heard before, like it's piercing her heart.
'Don't leave me, please don't leave me.' The trio don't hear, but then the boy turns around, alerting her to the fact they're actually a quartet and not a trio. He's holding a baby, clutching it close to his chest. It suddenly dawns on her that she isn't Beatrice, it's her eldest baby. The one she craved to bring home and have in her arms. The one she cried for in the dead of night, when the nights seemed to be endless.
He's smiling as he watches the girl being picked up by her dad, laughing. She wants to be there, she tries to run, but she can't. She's glued to the spot as they start to run again, going further into the distance. It's like she's in a straight jacket and she can't escape it.
'Hayley.' She whispers, 'don't leave me. Please don't leave me.' She can't hear her, laughing at her dad. 'Please, let me give you a cuddle.' She just walks away, flanked by the other three. 'Beatrice? Si?' She cries, 'please don't leave me. Please don't leave me.'
The walls start to shake, quaking around her, and she feels herself fall, her whole body shaking.
-CS-
'Carla, Carla. Wakeup.'
'Mmm?' She turns around, groaning, her eyes adjusting to the dark light.
'I think you were having a nightmare.' Peter tells her, 'you were moving. I think you were having a nightmare.'
'You're here.' She whispers, 'where's everyone else?'
'Who?'
'Si, the baby, h-' She trails off, not ready to confront the feeling the nightmare has left her with. Eerily familiar nightmares. The ones she got six years following her short admission to the general. When she was in hospital, losing her baby. When she was aching for a baby in her arms, she'd battled the morning sickness, the cramps, Peter's drinking. She needed that baby.
The baby that haunted her dreams was vastly similar to the girl in the dream, more grown up, with pigtails and a doll. The same baby she had so desperately wanted at the time. She was like her mum, the baby. Or rather, in her dreams, she was now a child.
She looked the same as Sharon and something about that was comforting, not that she had much time for her mum when she was younger. She'd seen her before, in a different capacity, always doing silly little things. She'd seen her a few nights before the baby came, she'd hugged her. She couldn't describe it, but it had been comforting.
A stark reminder that time does move on, she can't keep it frozen. Things do move on, they do change.
She felt a terrible guilt surrounding that pregnancy, she could have protected her more, surely? She didn't want a child, that's why it happened. Guilt was, still, eating away at her, it had been manifesting for years, but it had started to explode since the baby. Since Beatrice.
She turns over, a baby lying next to her. Not the same baby.
The one she didn't know she wanted, but she did. She just didn't know what she was supposed to-do. The one that she was ill prepared for.
'Are you okay?'
'I'm okay.' She breathes, 'I'm okay.' She can't say what she was dreaming, it just seemed so real.
'Are you sure? You seemed pretty out of it.'
'Just dreaming about me as a kid.' She lies, it's the third one she's had since Beatrice was born. She's not even three weeks. This was the first time that she'd had the family in it, the dreams was usually her and Beatrice, letting it down, dropping it. Messing up its life. This, though, this was something else. It was the first time she's had them all in the dream, maybe echoing the loneliness she was feeling inside.
'You okay?'
'I'm going to get a glass of water.' She whispers, 'I'll be fine.'
'Do you want me to come with you?'
'No.' She sighs, grabbing the hairband and pushing herself off of the bed, letting off another sigh as her hand brushes her top.
'You okay?'
'No. I'm leaking. Look, if she starts fussing, come get me.' She walks off before he has a chance to comment.
She gets to the kitchen, putting on the kettle because she has to act like a fricking cow, and it was thirsty work. Every part of her had been taken, she was a mum now. That's all she seemed to be. She's not the factory boss, she's not Peters partner. She wasn't really Carla Connor she was someone's mum and that was it.
People say it's the most rewarding job in the world, but at the moment all she wants if for her life to return to how it was. She was happy being auntie to Bertie and somewhat of a step-mum to Simon. She was happy working at the factory, albeit temporarily.
In this moment, all she could think of was the fact that she was, basically, a glorified cow. Even then, she wasn't a very good one. The postpartum haemorrhage, well, it had mucked up her milk, she was just about feeding her baby. The health visitor reassured her it was fine, but what did she know? She wasn't there, she didn't see what went on behind closed doors.
She turns on the TV, the low hum of the TV blotting out her silent sobs.
-CS-
'Peter, hi.'
'Hm?' The man jumps, before turning around. 'Oh, Lee, hi. How are you?' He doesn't know what to ask her, he's not seen her since Beatrice was born and he's nervous. To him, something had changed. The baby, somehow, it affected his feelings towards Leanne.
'Yeah, I'm coping.' They both that's a lie, but Peter doesn't question it. It's not because he doesn't care, but because he doesn't know what is wrong. You can tell yourself that nothing is wrong, but when your child is terminally ill, something is, very clearly, wrong. 'How's Carla? Simon is made up about having a sister.'
'Yeah, Carla, well, she's still in shock.'
'I bet. And, how are you?' He's touched that someone asks about him and how he feels. It's not something that people think of. Carla is the one that has gone through the physical trauma, but on the emotion side, it's something that they share. Just not in the same way.
'Yeah, I'm okay. Still getting used to this lack of sleep. Simon offered to babysit her when she's older, I can't ever imagine having a full night's sleep and she's not even 20 days.' He pauses, wondering if he's stepped out of turn. It's just awkward now, he doesn't know what to say, so that he doesn't add to her pain. Her son, her biological son, is dying. Whereas, his partner brought new life into the world.
'How is she, I know my pregnancy was a shock, but Carla's was a shock.' He wonders why Leanne cares, it's not like they're friends. She needs all the friends she can get, at the moment. Michelle is great, but she's not going to be there forever. She doesn't think they'll ever be friends, but she might be allies with her. He doesn't tell her that she's finding it tough, she doesn't need to know.
'What?'
'He said he wants to see you in the evening. Is that okay?'
'Yeah, if it was with you.'
'We're not doing much, but he's welcome to join us.'
'Lovely.'
-CS-
'Are you okay?'
'Hmm?'
'Are you okay, Chelle?' The woman turns around, looking at her friend.
'Why wouldn't I be.'
'I know what day it is.' She grimaces, 'I'm here for you.'
'I'm fine.' She promises, 'I'm fine.'
'You sure?'
'I promise. It's hard being back here, but spending time with my niece and best friend, it helps.' The woman promises, picking up the baby.
'You sure?'
'Stop worrying about me Carla. If I wasn't, I'd say something. I'm more worried about you.'
'Me?'
'You've barely been out of the house.'
'Oh Chelle.' She groans, 'I've just not felt the need too. Peter does all of that.'
'Well you and I are going out for a walk.'
'What about the baby?'
'Beatrice will be fine with her dad; you're going to have to leave her sometimes.'
'Chelle, what if she needs feeding?'
'You've pumped milk, right? Well Peter can feed her.'
'What if he doesn't know how to feed her.'
'Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but did I not just see you feeding her? She won't be hungry; we'll be gone an hour at most. She will be fine, don't give me anymore of your crap.' Carla looks down, feeling sheepish.
'Something could happen.'
'Like what?'
'Peter could have some sort of accident, she could get sick, have a seizure or something and Peter doesn't here. She could-'
'Right, get your coat on. That won't happen, it just shows you need to leave the house.'
'I can't go out like this.'
'Really? Right, you've got ten minutes and we're going.' Her friend sighs, knowing she's not going to win this battle.
-CS-
'Carla.' An excited voice calls, 'how are you? I wanted to come around, but I know what it's like in the first few months.'
'Oh, hi Maria.'
'So, where is she? Beatrice, isn't it?' Carla lets out a hum in response.
'I made her come on a walk, it's only a quick one, but she's been in her flat and, I'm pretty sure, she's going crazy.'
'Ah, I remember what it's like.'
'Aye, where is Liam?'
'Oh, he's gone with Kirk somewhere. So, what's she like?'
'She looks like Carla, come over tomorrow and you can meet her, that okay Carla?'
'That's fine.' She lets out a painful grin. 'Come around tomorrow.' She doesn't have the heart to tell her that something is wrong, that she doesn't want to see her. She just wants to cry; she can't deal with this. She knows she should say no, but Michelle would worry, and she doesn't need that.
'So, I'll see you tomorrow then?'
'See you tomorrow.' She confirms, as Michelle drags her off.
'So, how are you feeling?'
'Besides the sleep deprivation? She seems to have worked out that she can cry and keep us awake. I think she'll be as stubborn as me.'
'Lucky you.' She shakes her head, smiling at the ground. It's a forced smile, but she's pleased Michelle doesn't know the difference.
A/N thoughts? I'm glad (most) of you like the name- in regard to the comment about the other names that were on the shortlist, the other names in the running were Charlotte, Eleanor, Isla and Ava. I am hoping it will become clear as to why I chose Beatrice in the coming chapters. And James and Chloe are Ken's eldest sons (Lawrence Cunningham) children. James appeared in Corrie in 2010/2011 and he was a bad guy, but Chloe has never been seen.
Disclaimer, I've not had a baby but I'm hoping this will be as realistic as possible. I've done a fair amount of research, so I'm hoping it is relatively believable...
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