All rights to the usual people
A/N: For those of you that don't already know, a certain BA/CJ did a reading in a carol concert in aid of sick children last Thursday and some of the OG fans were lucky enough to be there and to spend time talking to him and getting photos taken with him, and no, that is definitely not the gnashing of my teeth in envy that you can hear, well it might be, just a little bit.
After hearing about it and seeing the photos I decided to write a little one shot incorporating the event, although I have taken some artistic license (!) It's pure fluff of course, but I hope you enjoy it.
"How the fuck are you supposed to cook a bloody turkey that size anyhow, and tell me again, how many people are coming for lunch? And why was I s'posed to order the bastard thing anyway, what the fuck is wrong with going to Tesco?" Molly looked at him, dismay written all over her face "I'm sure you never said"
Paul looked at her with irritation written all over his "Do you ever listen to a word I say? It was the one thing I asked you to do and you couldn't even manage that, I don't know what to say to you Molly"
"That'll make a nice change and no, I don't listen, not if I can help it, wanker" She didn't actually say any of those words out loud, they weren't going to do much to help in her attempt to placate him, to keep the peace and after all it was supposed to be the season of goodwill to all men, even wankers. And now he come to mention it she did have this sort of very vague memory of him saying something about free range and organic butchers or farm shops or something, but that had been back in September and she'd promptly forgotten all about it. I mean, who the hell wants to think about Christmas dinner when they were lying on a lounger in the back garden doing their best to top up their holiday tan? Well, apart from bloody Paul, obviously.
"Sorry, I'll go to Waitrose or Marks and Sparks or some'ing, I'm sure your mum won't mind"
"They'll be sold out of anything decent by now" He exhaled another very irritated breath to demonstrate just how much shit she was in, just in case she hadn't already noticed "You have no idea of how much work she puts in, how much effort my mother has to make in order for Christmas to be perfect, have you? No" He put his hand up "Don't say a word" He shook his head despairingly.
She actually hadn't been going to say anything because she had no idea what he wanted her to say. If ever anyone was dreading the up-coming Christmas holiday it was Molly, she'd heard enough about the 'perfect' sodding tree, the 'perfect' decorations, the 'perfect' bleeding dinner with the 'perfect' bleeding turkey and the 'perfect' bloody stuffing and gravy to last her a sodding lifetime. She'd heard enough, in fact, to make her re-think her entire relationship with him, but had decided that her best course of action was to keep her gob firmly shut and to pin a placatory smile on her face as she struggled to make an elegant job of wrapping Paul's mother's present, a bloody overpriced bit of china stuff, to add to her collection, well, according to Paul it was, when he'd told her what she had to buy. Cheeky fucker had made it sound as though it was the least she could do, so that she'd ended up spending far more than she could afford on something that she hated so as to make a good impression on someone she didn't give a shit about.
Okay, his mother might well be a very nice lady, most likely was, and Molly knew it was very kind of his mum to include her in the 'perfect Christmas', but Paul was never, not in a thousand, no, not in a million, years, ever gonna by THE ONE. The truth was, Molly had seriously gone off him now, but it was Christmas, and everyone knows you can't dump someone at Christmas, even if all the things they used to do which made you happy, that made you fancy the pants off them, quite literally, and the things they used to do that made your legs go all wobbly now made your skin itch inside.
Paul had been her boyfriend for about eight months, ever since she'd met him in a pub near Aldershot when she was out for a sort of reunion piss-up with the lads from 2-Section and they'd got a little bit rowdy and out of hand even for them and Paul had rescued her. He was in the Logistics Corp, in charge of shifting stuff about or some'ing, a bit like Pickfords in army uniform as far as she could work out, although she'd have to admit that she could be wrong about that, she'd never been the tiniest bit interested in his day job, but she'd thought he was good looking and he'd stayed that way even when she'd taken her beer goggles off, so that had been a good start. Now she thought he was a mummy obsessed boring little fucker who was crap in bed, especially now when he was going on and on about her failure to order the bastard turkey.
The journey seemed to take forever, the Motorway was slow going, loads of traffic and Molly wished more than anything that she'd gone for a pee before they'd left, but the turkey police had been hassling the life out of her to shift her arse otherwise they'd be late. She hadn't realised you could be late for getting home for Christmas, but apparently his parents had been expecting them hours ago and it was inconsiderate to keep them waiting, or so ha said, but it wasn't her fault that the world and his bloody wife were all on the M5 at the same time as them was it?
They'd agreed to call a truce in the battleground that was their so-called relationship, after all even soldiers in the trenches in the first world war managed that much, and had agreed to be civil to each other while they were staying at his parents' house and then, to her utter relief, to go their separate ways afterwards. Molly was thanking her lucky stars that his mum didn't approve of sex before marriage so there was no question of them sharing a room, let alone a bed or anything else, and for that she thanked God for small mercies.
The truce lasted for about an hour and a half after they arrived at his parents when Molly realised that he was still sniping at her and she couldn't even think about staying there for Christmas, it was as much as she could do to stay for one night. She'd started to think longingly that she'd much rather do her usual chaotic, boozy, disorganised, noisy Christmas with her chaotic, boozy, disorganised and noisy family in their crowded maisonette in east Ham. The fairy lights would have fused, the kids would be fighting, her mum would be shouting, her dad would be pissed and probably arguing with her nan, who'd be pissed as well, and the tele would be blaring out with no-one watching it cos they was too busy shouting over it, but it was home!
Getting a train that evening wasn't actually an option unfortunately, his mother and father had bought these tickets to go to a carol concert in a church, some charity do for kids, so she couldn't just up and piss off, much as she wanted to. Molly didn't do religion, and she didn't sing, correction, she couldn't sing, she sounded more like someone was torturing the cat, but she was happy to give a donation to the charity, it was a good cause after all, but singing in public? Nah, apart from anything else it still brought back too many memories and being in Bath didn't help much with that either.
Memories of another man, a man who'd once invited her to spend Christmas with his parents in Bath ….. .
-OG-
The inside of the church looked magical, all twinkling lights and a huge Christmas tree with candles and pews decorated in garlands with a choir of schoolkids who looked like little angels, although Molly knew that they were most likely little buggers most of the time if her own brothers were anything to go by. It wasn't the singing that made her sit bolt upright in a moment of spine tingling anticipation, she hadn't sung, had just mimed because she didn't want to spoil the overall effect for anyone, no ….. All her attention was suddenly riveted on a very tall dark haired figure that'd just started to make his way to the pulpit to do a reading. She would know that back anywhere, even dressed in a dark sweater with a white shirt under and not army combats.
Villagers all, this frosty tide,
Let your doors swing open wide,
Though wind may follow and snow beside,
Yet draw us in by your fire to hide,
Joy shall be yours in the morning!
She sat there transfixed, she would know that voice anywhere as well as he recited from "The Wind in the Willows" and she was transported out of a church in wintry Bath where it was wet, sleety, dark and cold outside and was back sitting under the fierce sun of a hot and dusty FOB in Afghanistan, to a time gone by, to the blazing heat of a couple of years ago, when she'd sat on the sand and listened to that voice and had been so much in love with him. Paul whispered something in her ear and she 'ssshh'd' him angrily, she would kill the little fucker if he didn't just shut up and let her listen to that voice. She half turned and patted his arm in apology, it wasn't his fault that the man standing in the pulpit doing the reading was the man she'd been so much in love with, and was afraid she still was.
Here we stand in the cold and the sleet
Blowing fingers and stamping feet
Come from far away you to greet
You by the fire and we in the street
Bidding you joy in the morning!
It was doubtful that anyone else in that church knew the precise moment when he'd looked up and seen her, they would not have noticed that imperceptible pause or the very slight widening of the deep brown eyes, but Molly did, she knew that he'd recognised her the instant he'd seen her, despite the darkness of the pews set in the body of the church where she was sitting. She wanted to smile at him, to mouth the word 'hello' but by the time she'd pulled herself together enough to do it he was back reading from his sheet. He didn't look at her again until he was nearly finished, his legendary iron self-control had obviously taken over, but she knew that she would be speaking to him as soon as this was finished, as soon as the concert was over, anything else was unthinkable.
Animals all, as it befell
In the stable where they did dwell!
Joy shall be theirs in the morning!
-OG-
"Dawsey!"
"Hello"
"God, what are you doing here?" He was grinning from ear to ear as he looked down at her "I can't believe it, it's the very last place I'd expect to see you, not that it's not lovely to see you, it is, it's just a bit of a surprise"
"What, you think I'm a heathen or summat? That I never go to church?" She was grinning at him with the same smile of sheer happiness that he wore on his face "That were lovely, the reading 'n that"
"Thanks, it used to be a favourite when I was a kid, and I know you're a bloody heathen, unless you've changed a hell of a lot"
"You haven't changed at all" She paused "And I'm not a bloody heathen, I resent that"
"No you don't and I hope I have changed, well, at least a bit, the last time I saw you I was in Intensive Care with Afghan grime still in my hair" He snorted a short laugh, but still hadn't taken his eyes away from hers "You have changed since then"
"I should think so, I were minging that day, wearing bloody combats that were all grubby and creased up 'n that and I hadn't had a shower or nothing for, well, I dunno for how long"
"You were beautiful" He smiled as she felt a blush start to creep up her neck "And you're even more beautiful now" He took a deep breath still staring into her eyes "Are you here on your own?"
"Yeah, well nah, I'm with me ex, his mum and dad asked me for Christmas and I thought it would be rude not to, but I can't hack it so I'm going home tomorrow morning, back to London"
"What time are you going?"
He made no comment on the fact that she was with an ex, had been going to spend Christmas with him and his parents, nor did he mention that he was there with anyone, but somehow she knew that he wasn't.
"Early as bloody possible, soon as I can get a train"
"Would you like me to give you a lift?"
"What, to the station? I were going to get a taxi"
"If you like, but I was thinking more about you getting home if he's not going to take you" He put his hand on her arm "Lady Luck pisses you about with Christmas's in Bath doesn't she? I invited you once to spend Christmas here with my parents, do you remember?"
"Course I remember, I remember all of it, haven't forgotten anything what happened, especially not that day" She looked up at him, neither of them smiling anymore as all sorts of unhappy memories crowded in together with the memory of the only kiss they'd ever shared, a fleeting kiss she could remember with starting clarity "You asked me just before everything went to shit"
"God, what happened to us, Molly?"
"I dunno, but I really bloody wish it hadn't"
"Yup, me too" He smiled, back to making intensive eye contact with her "I have missed you"
"Yeah, I've missed you too" She gulped then swallowed hard "Where you stationed now? I heard you was okay, that you was back"
"Pirbright, I'm doing some training stuff"
"What just up the bleeding road from me? Why didn't you call me or nothing?"
"Would have done, but I heard about…." He nodded towards where Paul was standing waiting for her "I thought you'd moved on"
"Bloody 2-Section, when did they ever get anything right? First Smurf, now 'im" She turned round and looked to where Paul was standing, then nodded at him as he beckoned pointing at the dial on his watch, obviously getting fed up with standing around waiting for her "Looks like I'd better go, I might be stopping his mum from getting home for her cocoa or summat"
"That'll never do, will it? Look, ring me and I'll pick you up, we're in the book, name of James, Royal Crescent or …" He raised one eyebrow "You could keep your promise and come and spend Christmas with us, if you haven't already promised your family, and if you'd like to that is, have got nothing better to do"
"For Christ's sake I haven't forgotten what your bleeding name is, have I? But I can't do that, Charles, can I? It wouldn't be right, you know, what with everything" She turned her head and looked in Paul's direction.
"No, maybe you're right, but think about it will you? There'd be no funny business, I promise" He laughed.
"No bleeding point in coming then is there?"
"Now I know I'm talking to Dawsey" He put his head back and roared with laughter "Okay, look, promise me you'll ring me in the morning" He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, the first real physical contact they'd had despite the fact that Molly would have given anything to just throw her arms round him and hug "I can't help wishing that you'd change your mind though"
"I promise I'll think about it and I'll call you anyhow" She stood on her tiptoes in order to graze his cheek with her lips and then breathed in the sharply familiar smell of him, the smell that was a mixture of soap and shampoo and the essence of him, a smell that would always trigger off her memories "You know what, you might of just got what you wished for"