Chapter 4

Carla's p.o.v:

The next morning, upon entering the living area of Roy's flat, the whiff of freshly brewed coffee filled my nostrils. 'Good morning, Roy'.

'Ah, Carla. Good morning. I've made some toast and there's coffee's in the pot. Help yourself to any condiments that you may require. If you need me, I will be working downstairs', he informed me, smiling as he headed downstairs. I released a sigh of relief. Relief that he hadn't brought up our conversation last night… The one where I cried like a baby as he held me, soothing me. What a great man he was. He had made me realise that maybe I don't need to be the strong one, for once. That I wasn't as resilient as I had once thought. That I did need support. And while my family might fall apart at the news, I had Roy. He would allow me to lean on him while I was feeling so vulnerable. He would get me through this. He was so strong. The things he'd been through in his lifetime… The heartache of Hayley dying. He probably couldn't bear to lose another loved one – and no wonder. I had to do this for him – as well as for myself.

Today was the day. Today I would tell them all.

As I sipped my coffee, I drafted a text message to the Connor Family group chat, to make sure they were all available this evening - I had something urgent to tell them. Finally, I pressed send and soon enough, the messages started piling in. Three o'clock at Johnny's flat. Rolling my sleeve up, I glanced at my watch. 9.30 AM. Five and a half hours and the secret's out.

If I was going to keep a clear head and hold my nerve, I needed a distraction. But everyone was busy. Roy was working, as were most of my family members. So I considered a walk might be just what I'd needed. How wrong I'd been…. I didn't realise how tired I would get from doing something so trivial as walking. Perhaps I'd been pushing myself too hard. 'Bloody kidneys', I grumbled under my breath. Just when I felt normal for a split second, and then I was reminded of my invisible illness. Upon reaching a park bench, I took a seat. Relieving the pressure from my throbbing ankles was liberating. Glancing around, I noticed where I was. The precinct. My surroundings so familiar. Nothing seemed to have changed in Weatherfield.

I was enjoying my serene surroundings, watching the many people who passed by. However, I was startled by one passerby who approached me. I was alarmed at the attire they donned. A fluorescent lightweight running jacket, black running lycra leggings, trainers. It was Peter. 'We really ought to stop meeting like this', I smirked before laying into him about his running regalia. 'New look you're going for? Because I'll be honest, yellow is so not your colour, Barlow'.

Laughing, he said, 'Oh no? I thought it brought out the colour in me eyes'.

'What's the outfit in aid of?'

'Toyah bought it me. She reckons I ought to exercise more, smoke less. She's determined to keep me young'.

'Oh and where's the fun in that? We've all got our vices….' Mine used be a large glass of red.

'You're telling me', he huffed. 'Mind if I sit?' He asked gesturing to the bench I sat on.

'Be my guest', I grinned, glad of the company.

'Yeah, well she thinks I'm getting right into the running. Little does she know, I leg it out of the street until I'm out of her eyeshot', he admits.

'What and she doesn't suspect anything?'

'Not a clue. I suppose lying is something that comes easy to me…. Second nature. Not that I don't feel full of guilt when she asks how my run went.'

'Yeah, you're not the only one lying comes second nature to', I muttered under my breath.

'What was that?'

'Nothing', I say forcing a smile. 'So what do you do to fill the time you're 'running'?' I asked, making air quotes with my fingers.

'I just wander about for an hour or so, grab a coffee from one of those cafes'. He pointed across the road from where we were sitting, revealing a row of small businesses. Suddenly rising from the bench, standing in front of me, he asked, 'So you comin'?'

'Comin' where?'

'Well I haven't been for my coffee. And if you come, I won't have to sit alone, watching the world go by. Come on, you'll be doing me a massive favour. I'll even buy your coffee... If you're lucky'.

'Ever the gentleman, Barlow', I teased. Toying with the idea of going for coffee with my ex, or sitting out here trying not to think of my debilitating disease... It certainly didn't take me long to make my mind up. Rising from the wooden bench, he held his arm out for me to take. Linking mine through his, we headed for coffee. Well... What harm could it do? It was only coffee.

'Running', he laughed as we crossed the road, 'I'd rather have a burger', he said flashing me his cheeky chappy grin. In that moment I was able to forget all my troubles as he made me feel like I was on cloud nine. Just like the old times.

I was in total bliss. Sitting in a rustic arm chair, opposite Peter, and drinking coffee. What's not to love? We were reminiscing and catching up on the last three years of our lives.

'Here, you better not let onto Roy I've been buying my coffee from the competition. I might not have a home to go back to', I joked.

'My lips are sealed', he said, flashing me wink. Another one. Why did I get the vague impression that he was attempting to flirt with me? Perhaps it was just part of his ever charming yet cheeky personality. Changing the direction of the conversation, he said, 'You know what?'

'What's that?' I asked inquisitively.

'This is so nice'.

'Is that the coffee or the company you're referring to?' I cheekily quizzed.

'Well… Both I suppose', he said raising his eyebrows in a comical fashion. Pausing, he leant forward, placing a hand atop of one of mine. I frowned, desperate to find out what was going through his mind. I couldn't help but feel he was coming on to me. It is Peter after all. 'No, but really… All jokes aside, Carla, this has been lovely. I'm just glad you can stand to speak to me y'know, after everything…' His voice trailed off.

'Peter, that's in the past. Dead and buried. Ok?' I didn't want to be going into our past demeanours. Not now.

'Ok. Well, I just wanted you to know'.

'I appreciate it'. I smiled hoping we could return back to the ever flowing banter that had been disturbed by this serious topic. Determined to get it back on track, I asked, 'So you looking forward to becoming a dad again? You didn't sound too keen the other day when I asked, but maybe I just caught you off guard. I mean, I was probably the last face you were expecting to see when you came flying out the cafe'.

'You're telling me', he huffed. 'Toyah really wants this y'know. She's had so many failed rounds of IVF… It's been hard for her'.

'That's not what I asked though, is it?' He was trying to avoid my questions. Again. And I wasn't having it. 'So I'm gonna ask you again… Are you looking forward to becoming a dad again?'

He knew he couldn't corner my question a second time round, so he sighed in defeat. 'I don't know. I feel like it couldn't come at a worse time. I'm in a bit of a muddle right now… And I don't know how to get out of it'. I placed my free hand over his that was placed on top of mine. Giving it a hard squeeze, encouraging him to open up. He knew. He didn't need me to tell him to continue. 'I wouldn't wanna burden you with my troubles, Carla'.

'Oh please. It's not as if I've got anything else to do. I'm here… As a friend, I mean'.

'Right, well….'

It was hard to tell how long we'd be sat for; how many cups of coffee we'd drank; how many tissues I'd offered to him. Comfort. That's what he was in need of. A baby, on the other hand… That was most definitely that last thing he needed to add to the mix. He was in an almighty mess. He told me about discovering Susan's killer. Billy. Who would've thought it? He then confessed what he'd done. 'I didn't mean to. I didn't want to hurt him. Carla, if there's one thing I want you to know, it's this: I had no intention to cause him any harm - I didn't lay a finger on him. I just wanted… I don't know… I wanted to frighten him', he said whispering the last part as his voice croaked. Immediately tears spilled from his eyes. Instinctively, I dived into my handbag in search of fresh tissues before dabbing his salty tears. I found myself pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead. What did I do that for? I wanted to comfort him. And that was the only way I knew how to. I didn't have the words to convince him that everything would be okay, because I couldn't kid a kidder. Yet he didn't even flinch when I pressed my lips to his forehead. Nevertheless, I was still mortified at my own actions, so spoke up, asking, 'What does Toyah think about all this?' He was still bawling, struggling speak in coherent sentences. He was a wreck.

'Well, that's the thing – she doesn't know anything about it'. He struggled for breath as he attempted to continue.

'Alright. Alright. Peter, can you do something for me?'

'Anything', he murmured.

'I need you to calm down'. I soothed him, running my hands through his hair, my fingers scratching at his scalp. Something I used to do, to calm him. I hadn't realised I'd done it. It had done it subconsciously. Yet it just felt so natural.

'I don't think I can'.

'I'm here', I whispered. And I meant it. Suddenly, he bolted upright, taking hold of my hands in his own. Both of us looking intent upon one another. 'Toyah would be too if you told her', I assured him. His shaky breathing had begun to return to normal. The odd tear still trickling from his eye.

He was shaking his head. 'No, Carla. No, she wouldn't... She wouldn't. And do you know why? Carla, she's not you', he said. I was stunned in an instant. What was going on?

'Well, no… She's Toyah', I joked hoping to lift his spirits.

'Stop it. Stop being smart', he spat. Taken aback, I pulled my hands away from his, folding my arms across my chest. I was only trying to help and I seemed to be getting it thrown back in my face. 'Sorry', he said sullenly as his head dropped in shame. I leant in towards him, using a thumb and forefinger to raise his head up. He had no choice - he was forced to look directly into my eyes. 'She'll fly off the handle if I tell her. It would wreck her; turn her world upside down. She doesn't need that. She's busy enough. And could you imagine how that conversation would go? Oh Toyah, on Christmas Day do you remember how I went AWOL? Well that's because I was busy terrorising Billy, because it turns out he left my twin sister to die in a car crash. Also, while I'm telling you this, I may as well be honest... this baby we're having… I don't really want it. And to top it all off I'm still in love with my ex-wife'. I thought I had misheard the last sentence to pass his lips.

'What did you just say?'

'I said that I'm still in love with my ex-wife'. He paused before clarifying, 'with you'. Brown eyes studied me, attempting to gage my response.

'Where has this come from?'

'Since I bumped into you outside Roy's. I was stunned. In that moment I had so much to say to you and yet I couldn't find it in me to say all the things I'd hoped to say'. Funny that I'd felt the same way. Maybe I wasn't completely over him either. But, I couldn't admit this at this precise moment. I didn't fancy confessing that I still held a torch for him. It wasn't right. He was feeling low and I'd be taking advantage of his vulnerability

Looking at my watch it read 2.45 PM. I needed to get back home. I'd made a promise to myself, and to Roy. Yet, here I was trying to sort someone else's problems out. How ironic that I couldn't seem to prioritise my own as easily. 'Listen, Peter. I'm your friend. Of course you can talk to me, but please speak to Toyah. The longer you delay, the more catastrophic the result. Leave it too long and you'll destroy her.' I sighed, sympathising with her. I had once been that woman he had kept the truth from. 'Anyway, I need to be getting back to the street'.

'Hot date?' He attempted to joke, but it came out in a rather defeated tone.

'Ha, I'd be so lucky… No, Family meeting'

'Oh, right. Nothing too heavy I hope?' He asked as we began the walk back to Coronation Street. Arm in arm.

'We'll soon see', I sighed. He thought he was the only one with problems. 'How will you explain where you've been all this time?'

'I'll just say I bumped into an old friend. I wouldn't entirely be lying'.

The conversation between us became more subdued as we neared the street. 'Can we do this again?' he asked. 'Coffee and a chat? Next time I'll let you offload though. Promise'.

'I'll hold you to that. You've got my number'. He shone a toothy grin at my response.

'That's right', he said. 'Come here', he said opening up his arms inviting me for a hug to which I accepted. No longer feeling scared. I felt safe as he held me in the middle of the deserted street. His arms warm, protecting me from the cold and blustery wind. In that moment I was reminded of good times. Past memories. I don't know what had come over me. But, before long, he was letting go, the warmth of his body escaping me. I glanced up at his face, as it neared closer towards mine. What was he doing now? No, oh god no. He was going in for a kiss, and while I considered pulling away - I couldn't. The impact of his all too familiar lips plunging against mine. Soft yet seductive. As if we had never been apart. Yet I pulled away, despite not wanting to. I had to as much for him as myself. Nothing was said. We just stood stock still. Unable to decipher one another's feelings.

'I've got to go', I said as I fled down the cobbles, leaving him stood in the street. Alone.