Chapter One

She saw her sitting by his bedside and knew in an instant that she was his wife. 'Out of my league' sprang immediately to mind. One glance told Molly that there was a gulf of life experience, class and wealth between them. She was attractive, well-groomed, distinctly middle-class with an air of confidence in her demeanour that Molly could never match.

All the way here on the train she had been fighting a battle with her nerves. The two hour journey had seemed like an age and yet she had almost wanted it never to end. It was four weeks since the disastrous encounter at the check point. She had replayed the scene in her head so many times and yet the memories hurt just as much now as they had in the immediate aftermath. Her fear in those moments on the bridge trying to save the lives of Captain James and Smurf had not lessened over time. The confusion, the noise the shouting and that final shocking moment when she had taken Captain James gun and fired one decisive shot, had haunted her in the weeks that followed.

Then there was the guilt. The guilt was worse. She tortured herself endlessly, remembering conversations that had occurred. Should she have been harsher towards Smurf and made sure that he was in no doubt about her feelings? Had she encouraged him to harbour hopes of a future together? Should she have guarded her feelings towards Captain James and been the kind of soldier he had tried to be until that final fateful day? 'Stay alert, stay focussed, stay alive' his mantra. Instead there had been the dreadful, emotional outburst from Smurf, Captain James distracted and distinctly unfocussed and then that shattering moment, the burst of gun fire and suddenly he was laying in agony on the ground his life at risk and his military career in tatters. Fate or fluke? To Molly it was neither. She felt nothing but guilt.

"Can I help you?" the nurse interrupted her thoughts.

"I…came to visit Captain James, but I can see he's got a visitor already," Molly replied self-consciously, not wanting to draw attention to herself as she stood by the door at the entrance to the ward.

"Shall I let him know you're here? What name is it?" the nurse responded helpfully

Molly shook her head. "No….I'll come back another time. Don't disturb him."

The nurse was about to move away but Molly caught her by the arm.

"How's he doing?"

The nurse nodded reassuringly. "OK. He's got a way to go yet but he's on the mend."

Molly swiftly turned around and pushed open the double swing doors, disappearing from sight a second later and leaving the doors to squeak noisily on their hinges.

ooOoo

The squeak of the doors had distracted him. Captain James turned his head towards the sound but there was nothing there. They really should get the hinges oiled he thought vaguely and with a tinge of annoyance. It had taken his attention away from Rebecca, not that he was sorry. He was tired and he wanted her to leave.

In spite of everything that had gone before in what had been a stormy and, at times. difficult marriage she'd felt it necessary to play the part of the dutiful wife when he had returned injured from Afghanistan. She said she'd felt guilty about his volunteering to go on tour. She somehow supposed this was her fault. How the hell did she imagine that? He turned his head towards her.

"Rebecca, I'm tired. I need to rest," he said in as kind a voice as he could muster. His leg ached. He was feeling uncomfortable.

"Oh, well I'll try to pop in again the day after tomorrow…" she began.

He had to stop this.

"Please, don't feel you have to do this. You've been kind but it doesn't really change anything does it?"

He saw the hurt expression in her eyes that she quickly tried to hide.

"Well, what about Sam, you'd like me to bring him to see you, wouldn't you?"

He recognised the determined look on her face, using his son as an excuse. She meant to have her own way.

"My parents could bring him. I'd prefer it."

There was silence. His leg was aching unbearably now. He'd need to call the nurse over at any minute. He gritted his teeth.

"Rebecca, it's over. We agreed before I went on tour and nothing has changed."

Everything has changed his brain shouted back at him. Everything!

He couldn't face another argument. He'd put all that behind him in Afghanistan. All he'd wanted was to put some distance between himself and this situation. Molly had asked him if he was looking forward to returning and the thought had filled him with dread.

Rebecca rose and took her jacket from the back of the chair.

"If that's how you want it!"

She stared at him for a full ten seconds as if expecting a denial.

"It is."

The finality of his words didn't escape her. She turned and left him without a backwards glance.

When the nurse returned ten minutes later to administer some pain relief she said conversationally, "You had another visitor earlier when your wife was here. She said she'd come back later"

Captain James frowned. "She?"

"Yes, she didn't leave her name…er...a short girl with long dark hair. Do you know her?"

ooOoo

In the weeks since returning from Afghanistan, Molly had found it hard to adjust. The R & R had been bad enough but that had been temporary. She couldn't see an end to this feeling of frustration and inaction. The last few weeks at Bastion had been difficult beyond words. As soon as Captain James' condition had been stabilised he had been repatriated along with Smurf. The inquiries into the action at the check point had lasted days. Every member of the platoon had been questioned at length. Thankfully, no one beyond James, Smurf and Molly seemed to know what the argument had been about. The Captain couldn't speak, Smurf had remained tight-lipped about the events and Molly kept the details as brief as the facts would allow. The last thing she wanted was to stir up any more trouble for any of them. Captain James was facing enough personal trauma and Smurf didn't need a whole heap of trouble raining down on him. Molly felt that she had messed things up for Smurf enough already and she just wanted to put everything behind her. Then, to her surprise and discomfort, she found herself being praised for her actions in not only saving the lives of Captain James and Smurf under heavy crossfire, but for taking out the Taliban insurgent, Bedrai. Given the guilt that was tormenting her, it seemed a cruel twist of fate to thrust her into the limelight. She didn't want thanks.

The text messages from Smurf had begun almost as soon as she'd touched down at Brize Norton.

'We need to talk. Please call me.'

'I'm sorry, Molly, please call.'

At first she'd tried to reply as kindly but distantly as possible until his repeated messages and her fear that there would be a resumption of the situation on tour drove her to sever all connection.

'I can't do this anymore, Smurf. You're doing my nut in. Don't text me again. Sorry'

It was cruel but necessary. She'd never get through this if he kept on reminding her of her mistakes. Never go back someone had once said to her. How did you get that message across to someone like Smurf?

Most of all she regretted not having the courage to return to the hospital. She'd been thrown by the sight of Captain James' wife. She was a reminder of everything that divided them. This wasn't a fairy tale. This was real life. What had she been thinking? How had she imagined that a girl like her could be part of his life? In Afghanistan it had seemed simple. They had a job to do. Everything had revolved around Two Section. She knew her role and she could hold her own in that world. But here, with all the messy domestic complications of everyday life, it was a different story. What if Captain James had patched things up with his wife? She'd been there at his bedside, after all. She wished she could take her courage in her hands and simply find him and ask him.

She'd only seen Captain James once very briefly in the hospital at Bastion a couple of days after the check point action. He'd been barely conscious, strapped up to monitors and IV's. She'd held his hand when no one else was around, squeezed it gently, willing him to open his eyes and see her but there had been no response. A couple of weeks after the unsuccessful hospital visit she'd called to check on him with half a mind to visit again but he'd been discharged. She didn't know where he was and she didn't know how to find him without resurrecting the whole sorry episode again or invoking awkward questions. He hadn't tried to contact her. Perhaps he regretted his mistake. Never go back. Her heart was heavy but she knew she had to try to move on.

ooOoo

The report from the medical board four months later wasn't good. He was unfit for active service. There would be no more tours. He'd escaped with his life and a permanent limp. He was a soldier through and through. He needed to be out there, active, engaged, enjoying the banter and cut and thrust of military life on the front line. They'd offered him a non-combative role but it wasn't for him. He needed to be doing something he considered useful.

He had realised at once that his unannounced visitor at the hospital had been Molly. His heart had leapt at the prospect of seeing her again now that she and the rest of Two Section had returned from Afghanistan. When she failed to return to the hospital the doubts crept into his mind. He'd made a critical mistake of judgment on tour. His actions had caused the emotional outburst from Smurf putting all their lives in danger. Ultimately, he'd paid the price in the loss of the military career he loved. His heart whispered to him that he had also lost the woman he loved.

"Any thoughts on what you might do if you leave the service?" his C.O. had asked him when James had reported to him after the medical board.

James gave him a wry smile. "If you'd asked me that a year ago, frankly, I'd have been flummoxed."

"And now?" the C.O. enquired.

"Well, Sir, as a matter of fact, I do have a few ideas. A little while ago someone taught me that if you want to improve the big picture you have to address the small things first. I think I might give that approach a go."

ooOoo

Brize Norton again. Another departure. Another step into the unknown but Molly had volunteered for this one.

"I must be a bleedin' glutton for punishment!" she muttered under her breath.

The same motley bunch of military personnel surrounded her in the departure area but amongst them were a large number of medics. She wasn't on her own this time.

A humanitarian disaster in central Africa: civil war, disrupted supply lines, thousands of starving men, women and children like Bashira ,needing food, medical care, support and safety. She was being deployed as part of a UN initiative to assist with the humanitarian relief effort. She was glad to go. Six months had passed since her return from Afghanistan and four months of training had helped to refocus her mind. Above all, she felt compelled to do something to make things better if only in a small way, something that would help to ease her sadness over everything that had happened in Afghanistan.

As soon as she stepped off the transport plane on the runway the heat and dust hit Molly. For some it was an alien environment, a challenge to their system, but to her it felt like a familiar friend. The convoy took two days to reach the disaster area. It had been a long, hot, uncomfortable journey much interrupted by poor roads, occasional skirmishes with armed fighters from one side or other of the conflict who seemed equally intent on holding up, disrupting or diverting the convoy to prevent their adversaries gaining any advantage. Their politics were lost on Molly. Part of her simply didn't want to engage her brain on the rights and wrongs of the conflict. She knew the dangers of getting involved. This time, she would concentrate on simply easing the suffering of those innocent people caught up in this futile strife.

The volunteer medics and troops had been tasked with setting up a relief centre for refugees fleeing across the border and told they would be liaising with civilian aid workers already on site. In spite of the briefings they had been given before departure, Molly was unprepared for the sight that met her when they arrived. She had once heard the term "Of biblical proportions" applied to the famine in East Africa during the 1980's. It had probably been something to do with Band Aid or Bob Geldof that they'd discussed at school on one of the infrequent occasions she had actually attended. She couldn't remember exactly where she had heard the term but for the first time in her life, she knew what it meant. There were people as far as the eye could see, people in need of shelter, food, medical care and comfort. She should have felt overwhelmed, but she didn't. She felt needed.

ooOoo

James had arrived four days ago. It had been a challenge of a very different kind to anything he had previously experienced. The two months of training in the UK had been good and had prepared him as fully as possible for what he would face here. However, the realities were different. Like most relief charity workers facing their first deployment overseas, he had initially been shocked by the level of distress he had encountered. Just how was he supposed to put this situation right? The answer he soon realised was by making one small step at a time. His military background and training, the reason that the charity had been so keen to recruit him, enabled him to organise personnel and supplies here on the ground effectively. It was a job of mammoth proportions but he was beginning to make headway. There was never enough time. His working hours were long, conditions were rough and ready, he was short of sleep, but for the first time since Afghanistan he truly felt he was doing something worthwhile.

"Charles, the convoy's arrived!" Simon, James' deputy, called though the open doorway of the concrete storeroom that served as an office and operations centre.

James strolled out into the heat; the sun was in his eyes. He raised his hand to shield his vision and saw five ten-ton trucks making their way along the rough and ready road through the centre of the camp. Children ran alongside the trucks, waving and trying to get the attention of the occupants. James exhaled deeply, shook his head in relief and at last smiled at the very welcome sight before him.

ooOoo

Molly jumped down from the back of the truck and reached for her Bergen and Med bag. She was immediately surrounded by eager, chattering, smiling children. She wished she had something to give them, but had to settle for simply smiling and nodding in response and high-fiving of few of them. Up ahead of the group were a small collection of single storey concrete buildings that appeared to be the hub of activity in the camp. They had been told that they would be setting up a medical facility here and it looked as if they had their work cut out.

Molly and the other army medics made their way forward. Their senior officer was some distance ahead of them near the buildings in discussion with two of the charity workers. It was almost midday, the sun was high in the sky and it was very hot. Molly leaned back against the front of the lead truck which offered a small amount of shade and sighed deeply. Her tiredness and the heat suddenly made her feel very weary. She glanced ahead of her towards her C.O. and the charity workers and in that instant her breath caught in her throat, her heart seemed to stop and, in spite of the heat, shivers ran down her spine.

ooOoo

James had been outlining the current situation at the camp and advising Lieutenant Colonel Williams of the facilities available. The officer had listened carefully and asked pertinent questions until content that he had obtained sufficient information concluded, "OK, thanks for that. We'll start to move our equipment into that block over there and get organised as soon as possible."

James looked over to the group of twenty medics a short distance away, some chatting, others standing quietly, taking in the scenes before them. One of them was standing in the shade with her back to the lead truck. She was small, dark-haired, dressed like all the others but immediately familiar to him. She was staring at him, utterly transfixed.

ooOoo

Molly saw him gazing at her. She saw him take a deep breath, run his fingers through his hair, take a couple of paces towards her and then stop. He was still looking at her, questioning her. In that moment she knew with a certainty that she had only ever felt once before, back in the compound in Afghanistan, that she loved him; completely and unreservedly.

Molly nodded her head, just once and very slightly but James knew immediately its meaning. In that instant every doubt he had ever entertained about her feelings for him disappeared. He walked slowly towards her. As he drew level with her he was rewarded by the sweetest smile of welcome.

"Hello, Boss!"

James smiled in return and almost overcome said hesitantly, "Molly, I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see you."

Molly gazed at him, her smile gradually changing to a cheeky grin.

"I guess there might be time in the next few weeks for you to tell me exactly how wonderful it is!"

James laughed, shook his head almost in disbelief that she was actually here with him again. She was the same old Molly.

"Do you think you'll want to listen?" he asked.

She was silent and still for a moment or two as if seriously contemplating the question. James held his breath until he heard her giggle and saw the grin return.

"Perhaps!"