Thank you for the kind reviews you encouraged me to try another Chapter. I hope you like it.

Chapter Two

Molly watched James walk away from her towards the Operations Centre. She recalled all those other occasions in Afghanistan when she had followed in his wake, trusting him and respecting his leadership but this time, with no concern for protocol, he turned his head to look back at her and gave her a half-smile and wink.

Molly began to laugh just as Lieutenant Colonel Williams strode over to the group of medics, calling loudly,"Listen up!"

The medics and support staff assembled before him.

"We need to unload our equipment and move everything into the two buildings over there."

He gestured towards two rectangular concrete buildings with tin roofs and narrow shaded verandas.

"These buildings will serve as our Med Centre for the foreseeable future."

He paused and regarded them all keenly.

"Make no mistake; we will have our work cut out here. This is going to be a difficult task but I know you are all equal to the challenge. The Med Centre needs to be operational by 18:00 hours. Speed is of the essence. I know I can rely on you all."

He nodded meaningfully at them and then took a step backwards to make way for Sergeant McCloud who immediately began to bark instructions and directions at everyone.

Molly listened to everything that was being said, trying to focus on the important details but her emotions were in turmoil. She was overjoyed and yet apprehensive at the same time. Out of the corner of her eye she could still see James standing near the Operations Centre, in that familiar relaxed manner, hands on hips, staring intently at her. She could feel the warmth of that gaze even from a distance of fifty yards. She couldn't help smiling to herself.

"Something amusing you, Dawes?"

Sergeant McCloud broke into her thoughts. A feeling of déjà vu overcame her. However, one glance at the slightly balding, sandy haired, thickset man before her who appeared to have just the hint of a boxer's nose, very quickly dispelled any comparisons with that other occasion when she had smiled inappropriately.

"No Sergeant. Just looking forward to the task!"

Sergeant McCloud regarded her suspiciously for a few seconds, unsure whether to believe her. However, the neutral tone of Molly's reply, combined with the oppressive heat of midday that made standing here a minute longer than necessary undesirable, persuaded him not to take the point any further. He returned to delivering his list of instructions in a broad Glaswegian accent and Molly silently told herself to get a grip!

James watching from a distance was still in shock at seeing Molly again. His common sense told him that he should have realised it was a possibility that she would deploy to Africa on this mission. However, that she should turn up here when she could have been sent anywhere, was telling him something more. Fate or fluke? He smiled to himself at the thought. Most definitely fate this time. Lady Luck was smiling on him again.

He saw the group of medics begin to break up and move purposefully in varying directions in accordance with the rather loud Scottish Sergeant's directions. Molly was walking with the two others towards the lead truck. Would she look towards him? James heard Simon call to him from inside the building but couldn't tear himself away.

"Just a minute!" he responded, waiting there willing her to look his way. He was rewarded; her head turned in his direction and he saw that broad open smile again, the one that was reserved only for him.

ooOoo

Four hours later Molly sat down heavily on the step of the veranda outside the newly established Med Centre next to fellow medic, Lisa Morgan.

"God, I'm proper fragged! It's so bleedin' hot!" she wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

Lisa, a pleasant, likeable girl from Birmingham looked at Molly in surprise.

"You were in Afghan weren't you? It must have been hot out there."

Molly raised her eyebrows, "Yeah, it was hot alright."

She remembered the struggle of trying to acclimatise to the conditions back at Bastion and the training run when Captain James had accused her of being the only medic afraid of the sight of blood. It was strange how it brought a smile to her face now in stark contrast to the humiliation she had felt at the time.

She turned to look at Lisa.

"It was a lot of other things besides, but this is a whole different ball bag!" Adding silently to herself, in more ways than one.

The Med Centre was operational ahead of schedule. By 17:30 hours the first patients were filing though the doors. Several medical teams of doctors and civilian nurses had been deployed by charities to work within the Med Centre and the first group had arrived a couple of hours ago thanks to James finding the transport to move them here. The army medics were tasked with supporting the civilian teams, undertaking nursing and orderly duties, providing triage for new arrivals and basic first aid where appropriate. It soon became apparent from the steady stream of patients through the Med Centre doors that the medics would be facing a relentless workload. The teams were organised into shifts and Molly found herself rostered on duty this first day until midnight

The daily arrival of new refugees, some injured, others elderly or ill, new-born babies needing special care and malnourished children in danger of dying from starvation, was a constant drain on the resources available in the camp but one that had to be met. James was putting all his efforts into getting supplies of food, fresh drinking water and shelter for the thousands already here and those he knew that were yet to arrive. The arrival of the medical teams and army medics had been a huge relief. To have dedicated, specialist teams to deal with at least one aspect of the care that was needed, would free him to concentrate on the logistics of keeping the equivalent population of a small town alive.

By the time Molly was relieved from duty and able to make her way back to her quarters, tents which had been erected a short distance from the Med Centre, she was well and truly exhausted but she knew she was happy and she knew she had purpose at last.

The medic's quarters were in darkness. The night air was cooler, a relief after the intense heat of the day and she enjoyed just standing still for a moment and gazing upwards at the stars shining so brightly in the dark sky. She loved stars. They represented a different world, one of vast proportions and possibilities. She'd never really looked at stars before Afghanistan. In the East London of Molly's childhood, the stars were seldom visible.

"Not using the roof of the shitter this time, then?"

Molly jumped and swung around at the sound of James voice behind her. He was sitting on an upturned metal drum at the right-hand side of the tent.

"How long have you been there?" Molly responded flustered by his presence and the fact that she couldn't clearly see his face.

"Not long," he assured her. "I found out you were on duty until midnight, so I thought I'd wait for you." His voice was quiet.

Molly remained where she was standing.

"There's room for another here."

She heard the sound of him patting another metal drum. She strolled over and, finding the drum next to his, sat down.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Worse than Afghan, if I'm honest," Molly agreed.

They sat together in companionable silence looking up at the night sky and lost in their own thoughts. Each of them knew that they loved the other but so much time had passed since that last moment of intimacy in the compound in Afghanistan. They were both searching for a way back.

At long last James turned towards her and asked, "Why didn't you come back to the hospital?"

Molly was taken aback. "You knew, I'd been there?"

Even in the darkness she heard the smirk in his voice, "Well, I don't know any other short, dark haired women who are likely to visit me when I'm on my sick bed."

Molly sighed. "I don't know. When I saw you there in the hospital it just seemed like a whole different world. Everything was so different from Afghan."

"You saw Rebecca there."

It was a statement of fact.

"Yes."

What else could Molly say? One look at Rebecca had almost destroyed every ounce of confidence she had gained in the previous six months. She had seen herself through Rebecca's eyes and thought how ill qualified she was to be with this man. For the first time since seeing James this morning and the elation of realising he still loved her, Molly felt a small knot of anxiety developing in the pit of her stomach.

"I didn't want her there," James said. "It took a lot of bloody effort to get her to leave me alone."

Molly couldn't tell if he was joking. She needed to see him clearly and reached into her tunic pocket to pull out a small pen torch. She switched it on and turned it towards him, illuminating his face. He was looking directly at her; there was no smile on his lips.

"So, you're not…." Molly didn't know how to end the question.

"Back with her?" James supplied and then said immediately in answer, "No way. That was never going to happen. Not after Afghan."

She felt his hand reach for hers. He grasped her fingers, lightly intertwining them with his own, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. Molly turned off the torch and they sat in darkness and silence for a minute or two. More than anything else in the world, James wanted to pull her towards him, hold her close and kiss her but he sensed that something was still unresolved. At last, Molly spoke.

"Why didn't you contact me?"

She recalled the months of unhappiness and torment that she had experienced after the return from tour. If he had still loved her and wanted to be with her, then why hadn't he contacted her?

"I had doubts about myself and everything I'd done."

He paused and drew breath unevenly. "I was responsible for everything that went wrong. I was the officer and…I messed up, Molly."

She heard his voice break with emotion at the final words and couldn't bear it. She reached towards him and instinctively he pulled her over to him until she was sitting on his lap with his arms around her waist. She raised her hands to his face and cupping it gently between her palms, lowered her forehead to rest against his. He remembered when he had comforted her thus and now she was here reciprocating. He didn't need to say anything more. She lifted her head and leaned towards him. The longed-for kiss was his absolution. She understood.