'Right one beautiful little baby dressed, hmm.' The man grins, picking her up of the changing table. 'You look adorable, yes you too. My beautiful little bumble bee. Where is mummy? Let's go find her.' He tells the girl, placing her on his shoulder. 'Carla?'

'In 'ere.' She yells back, Peter making his way to the bedroom, where she is getting ready.

'She's dressed.'

'Good. Was she okay?'

''Why wouldn't she be?'

'You didn't hurt her, did you?' He just stares at her, stunned she'd even suggest a thing like that.

'Sorry?'

'You didn't hurt her, did you?' She questions, looking in the mirror, examining herself.

'Carla, I got her dressed. I've done it before.'

'Not to go outside, not properly. Did you pull her or anything?' She frets, turning around to him, motioning to give her the baby, he refused.

'Peter, I don't have time for this. We're registering her birth today; she needs to be ready.'

'And she is, there's no harm in me getting her ready. Why would there be? I'm her dad.'

'You never know.'

'Carla, you know me. I'm your partner, her dad. I'd never do anything to hurt her.'

'Not deliberately.'

'Is this about the drinking, last time, everything was so different. I'm doing it right. I haven't touched a drop in nearly two years.'

'It's not, Peter. It's that you're too rough with her.'

'I'm what?'

'Too rough.' She tells him, as he looks on. He doesn't know what to say to her, he knows she's been having issues, but this is personal now.

'Right, you are going to pack the bag and I'm going to put her in the car. Carla, you need to stop this.' He doesn't get the apology he needs but walks off with the baby, without her protesting. A small win, in his opinion.

-CS-

'I'm not sure I like the name.' Carla announces, turning around to her partner as he starts up the car. 'I don't know if I like it anymore.'

'Are you in a better mood?'

'I was never in a mood.'

'Don't pull that one. Anyway, I thought you were dead set on it.'

'I was.' She admits, 'but, I don't know.' He watches her lip tremble. 'I don't know.'

'Hey, hey. It's not too late to change the name.'

'But to what?'

'We can sit down and look again.'

'We've told everyone. Peter, we are registering her birth today.'

'Love, they'll understand. Most couples have nine months, she's five weeks old. We've got another week. I'm sure they'll let us rebook it, if you don't want to name her that.'

'I just feel so rushed.' She admits, 'it's her name for the rest of her life. I don't know what to-do Peter.'

'And if you don't like it, we can change it.'

'You hate it.'

'I really don't, it's grown on me. Baby B. Beatrice, it means happiness and she makes me so happy. I promise, I know you don't think so, but I adore her.'

'See, you like it, but I don't know if I do.'

'Well we can have a rethink.'

'That's just it, Peter. I don't know. I don't know anything anymore.'

'That's not true.'

'It's meant to mean happiness and I'm not happy. I hate this.'

'Do you hate her?' He asks cautiously, he doesn't want to upset her, but he's wary. 'I know it's a big shock, but she's a good shock, right? You're one of the most clever, brave people I know. Carla, you are doing great.'

'Do I hate my own baby? Did you really ask that? I love her, I do, but this is so hard, all of this. I don't know anything. I'm lost and I don't know what to-do.'

'What do you mean?'

'Peter, I'm not what you call a natural mum. I've got this baby I don't know what to-do with, I'm rubbish with her. I don't know a single thing anymore. I'm stupid, this should all come naturally, Peter, it's not. Everything is going wrong; I didn't know I was pregnant and then I nearly died. Then we come back, and I just don't know what to-do. With Bertie, it was different. I can hand him back at the end of the day.'

'You are doing fine.' He tries, as hot tears spill from her. She doesn't want to hear that, it trivialises everything. This is her life that's being wrecked, it's not his. He'll go back to work next week and she's going to be stuck with a baby that she struggles to look after, with her best friend miles away.

'Stop saying that, I don't want to be fine, I want to be back to my old self. Peter, I want to me normal.' She cries, shaking her head. 'We named this baby because Beatrice means happiness, but she's not giving me anything. I don't know what to-do with her, I don't understand her. Peter, I don't know what to-do.' Nor does he, but he can't say that to her. He needs to be able to say something, be able to help her, but he can't. He can't relate to her feelings. He so badly wants to help, but even now, it's not much to go on. He can't help if he doesn't know what's wrong.

'Look, I'll get up with her tonight.' He tries, suggesting that maybe this is sleep deprivation.

'Fuck off, you don't get anything.' She tells him, wishing they were at home so she could storm off and slam the door, to prove her point. She can't, she's just got to sit there, in an awkward silence. This is supposed to be the happiest time of her life, but it isn't.

'We can name her something else. If you don't like it, or don't want to call her after happiness, it's fine. We can.'

'You're making me sound like a monster.' She snaps.

'I didn't mean it like that, I'm just saying it's not too like. We can rename her.'

'Like what?'

'Carla, I don't know. I don't know what you want me to say. I'm trying, I really am.'

-CS-

'You okay?' He asks quietly, as he comes back with the parking ticket. The journey had been filled with an awkward silence, neither of them knowing what to say. 'I know you don't think you are, but you're doing a great job.'

'Peter, don't patronise me.' She whispers, twisting her hair around her finger. 'I'm a rubbish mum, just like my mum.'

'Is this what it's about?'

'No.' She sighs, 'look leave it.'

'Carla, you need to let me in.'

'Peter, leave it. I'm fine.'

'Carla, you aren't.'

'I'm not having this conversation with you.' She sighs, 'I'm going for a coffee and I don't want you there.'

'What?'

'You heard. I'll meet you back here at two.' She tells him, 'I need to be alone. Seeing as you're so desperate to have her, you get the baby.'

'You can't call her "the baby."'

'I can.' She tells him walking away. He sighs, as he manages to get the pram out the car, thankful it fits.

'Hello, my beautiful little bee. Hm, my little bumble bee, that's what you are. Yes, you are.' He grins, as she opens her eyes, yawning. 'Sorry you heard that. Mummy just isn't feeling well. It's nothing you've done, but you've got daddy hear.' He promises, transferring her to the pram, making sure she's all closed in. 'Daddy loves you so much.'

He laughs at the way she falls asleep, locking the car and wandering off. He worries about the germs, but he doesn't have a choice, he can't sit in a car with her the whole time. Him and Carla were going out for lunch, but that doesn't seem to be happening now, so he'll go on his own.

'Well, you've brought me happiness.' He tells the baby, 'something I didn't know I needed.' This is true, to him. Carla might not let him do much, but her just being there, it makes him so happy. A little girl. His daughter. Words he'd never thought he'd say. 'You look like a Beatrice, my little bumble bee, hm. You don't look like a Gemma or anything. Mummy did good.'

It's when he's walking around that he makes the decision to call Michelle. He's at a loss.

'Peter?' The voice questions, 'everything okay?'

'Not really.' He sighs, 'sorry, you were the only person I could think of calling. Are you busy?'

'Uh, no. Let me just go outside.' He looks down at the innocent baby in front of him. She's asleep and he wonders if there was anything so cute. 'Right, what's happened.'

'I don't know, first she accuses me of harming Beatrice, then she tells me she's lost herself and when I try and help, she storms off. She's just told me that she wants to name Beatrice something else, which is fine, but when I asked what she got mad and then I suggested more time and it got even worse.' He's met with a brief moment of silence. 'She won't let me do anything.'

'I don't know what to say.' She confesses, both knowing it's not a good sign if her best friend is at a loss of what to-do. 'Has she spoken to anyone? You know, a professional?'

'She says she hasn't got a problem, that it's all in my head. I've tried and tries; I can't do right from doing wrong. She doesn't trust me to look after our daughter, but she's suddenly stormed off.'

'That's not good, she really needs to see someone.'

'She keeps worrying something bad is going to happen, like she's going to die or something. She won't see Johnny at the moment, and I know she keeps having nightmares because she calls out things in the night. Michelle, I don't know what to-do. I've told her I'm happy to get up in the night or give her a day to herself, or just something but she won't listen.'

'Do you want me to speak to her?'

'I don't even know if that is going to work.' He confesses, 'I was hoping you'd have any tips on what I can do for her.'

'I'm sorry Peter, I don't know. I'll phone her up tomorrow, let her cool off. She will be okay.'

'I hope so.' Michelle can hear the man's voice crack, wondering how hard he's finding it. A new baby is an upheaval enough, let alone one that was a literal surprise. 'I'd come over, but I don't have the time off.'

'I'm not asking you too, I just wanted to know if you had anything I could do.'

'I'm really sorry.' He just sighs, putting his head in his hands, as the phone call ends.

'My little bumble bee.' He sighs, looking into the pram. 'What are we going to-do, hm? We'll figure it out, right.' The baby doesn't understand him, but it brings him some comfort, reminding him why he's doing this.

His eyes don't leave his sleeping daughter, as he eats lunch. It's not like he's got someone to talk too, so he can spend the time watching her breathe, looking so serene and peaceful, as he finishes his sandwich.

'What are we going to-do bumble bee?' He whispers, as she opens her eyes, looking straight into his. She remains silent, seemingly content at just staring at him, as he makes his way back to the meeting point, deciding he'll sit there whilst waiting for his partner.

-CS-

'I'm sorry.' She whispers, 'I'm really sorry.'

'Carla, it's fine. I'm just worried about you.'

'It was a blip.' She tries to tell him, 'it was a blip because I'm tired and hormonal.' He nods, not fully convinced. 'I'm fine. I just needed to clear my head. How was she?'

'She was good.' He tells her, as she peers into the pram. 'She watched me for the most part, hmm, didn't you, my little bumble bee.'

'You're what?'

'Bumble Bee.'

'Where'd that come from?'

'She looked like one the other day, when you dressed her. I don't know, I'll probably stop calling her it, if you don't like it.' She shakes her head, she so desperately wants to let him in, but something stops her.

'I think it's cute.' She tries, trying to offer him an olive branch. 'I promise I'm okay, I'm just tired.'

'Then let me take over some of it.'

'Maybe.'

-CS-

'So, what are we going to name her?' Peter asks, as they sort out the documents, waiting to be called in. 'We can see if we can have some more time.' She just shrugs, writing something down, not listening. 'Carla.'

'What?'

'Did you not hear me?'

'Clearly not.' He's heart sinks as he realises that the good mood was only temporarily.

'What are we naming her?'

A/N thoughts? Do you think they'll stick with Beatrice? Twitter - TalkItOutLike