Chapter Two

Always On My Mind

Molly sat on the floor outside the bathroom door, her back leaning up against it as she hugged her knees to her chest. It had all been very quiet for several minutes, she wondered what he was doing in there.

Suddenly the door opened and she just managed to put her hands down to steady herself before she could fall backwards. Charles was momentarily startled and looked down at her. "What are you doing?" He asked, his brow creasing. She quickly stood to face him, swiping away at the tears that had left their tracks running down her cheeks. Looking at him now his face showed no evidence of the emotional outburst she had heard through the door only minutes ago.

She suddenly felt a little foolish at the way he was looking at her and could feel herself beginning to blush. She gulped before asking "Are you alright?"

He stared at her for a few seconds before replying "I'm fine." with a small bob of his head. There was a definite air of why wouldn't I be? in his delivery, although he didn't actually say that. Her eyes dropped to the floor and he made his way into the bedroom. She followed, standing in the doorframe as she watched him remove the towel from around his waist and slip into his jogging bottoms.

"It's just I.. I heard you.. just then." She said trepidly, indicating toward the bathroom with a slight jerk of her head.

He turned his head to her and then back again, his lips parted as though ready to speak. He sighed heavily as he leaned forwards against the chest of drawers and lowered his head. "I buried my best friend today." He stated matter-of-factly. "D'you think I'm allowed to be upset about that for just one fucking minute?"

She bit down hard on her lip as she felt her eyes begin to well up. He never usually spoke to her in this manner. But he was grieving so she would bite her tongue and forgive it today. "Talk to me, Charles." She pleaded softly, taking a step forward into the room. "I'm your wife."

"What is there to say? " He answered bluntly, lifting his head and staring at his reflection in the oval mirror that stood on top of the chest of drawers. "Elvis is dead. Everything's gone to shit."

She stared at him staring at himself. "I know. I know it has. But it is ok to be upset. You've been needin' to let it out, you've been holdin' it in all bleedin' day. Why?" She asked softly.

He shook his head. "You saw how broken she is. She didn't need me stood there - another fucking emotional wreck."

"Like me you mean?" She said, her voice small. "He was my friend too Charles."

"I don't know how she's ever gonna get over this." He said, shaking his head again and ignoring what Molly had just said. He was still staring at his reflection.

"Georgie's got her family around her, she'll be alright." Molly offered but he didn't say anything. She looked around the room, as though searching for words that would offer some comfort. "I know it's that old cliche but time really is a healer. It's shit right now but in time, things... they get easier..."

He shook his head dismissively this time. "I should have listened to Richards. But no. I thought she was just some jumped up, gobby fucking Private. Well, she proved herself to be a bloody good soldier didn't she."

"Richards?" Molly questioned, her face scrunching in confusion.

"I should have trusted my gut. Azizi tried to warn me." He said, still staring into the mirror, his eyes wide.

"Warn you? Charles, what are you wafflin' on about?"

He turned his head to face her. "It was my fault. That Elvis died."

She blinked at him, he was looking at her in all seriousness. Then she shook her head. "No. No. None of this is your fault Charles." She said, moving towards him.

"We should never have gone on that mission. It was my call. I caused it. And now she's on her own. Because of me."

Molly sighed "Charles. Don't do this to yourself. You ain't to blame for what 'appened."

"Yes Molly. Yes I am." He asserted. "You weren't there, you... you don't know..."

Molly stared at him, he hadn't been right for a while she had thought. It had gotten worse since Afghan, since Elvis. Was this why? Because he'd been blaming himself this whole time?

"You don't really believe this?" She said.

"It's the truth." He replied instantly.

She stood with her mouth half open. Nothing she seemed to say could reassure him. She was at a loss as to what to say or do. To be honest she was getting tired of walking on eggshells with him of late.

"It's been a long day. I think we need some sleep." Charles said eventually. She nodded and headed to the bathroom to ready herself for bed as Charles turned back to the mirror, eyeing himself sternly as he blew air out through his nose.

OG

They lay in bed, him on his back staring blankly up at the ceiling and her on her side with her back to him. Where were the arms that used to envelope her into a cuddle before they would drift off to sleep together? When was the last time they had done that? She wondered as she lay with her eyes wide open, barely able to see in the dark but for a small amount of light filtering through the window from the street lamp outside. Suddenly there was movement and she felt the mattress dip and then rise again as he got out of bed. She turned to see his figure leaving the room and heard his footsteps making their way downstairs. She rolled onto her back and sighed. She doubted if she'd be able to get to sleep tonight.

He sat alone at the kitchen table in near darkness. He was surrounded by an eerie stillness which unnerved him. Not a single sound could be heard but somewhere, in the depths of the silence he could hear gunfire, explosions, panicked screams. He could almost smell smoke and feel the heat of the Afghan sun burning against his cheeks.

Elvis was lying on his back on the ground. There were flames and debris everywhere. He knew he was dead straightaway, no one could have survived that blast impact, not to mention the fall from the roof. But still Georgie performed CPR on his burnt and lifeless body like a woman possessed. Everyone knew it was useless. It took two fellow comrades to pull her off of him. Her shrill scream of his name would stay with him for a lifetime. "Don't leave me."

He blinked quickly and shook his head, shaking the memory from of his mind then picked up his mobile from the kitchen table and typed out a text message:

Thinking of you. Hope you're ok after today? Just want you to know you can call me whenever you need. Anytime 24/7. C x

He looked at the time at the top of the screen. She'd probably be asleep. Perhaps he should wait until it was properly morning before sending it. His finger hovered over the send button, re-reading the message again, there was so much more he wanted to say. Before he knew it he'd pressed it.

She wasn't asleep.

His stomach flipped and his heart skipped a beat as his phone screen lit up less than a minute later with her reply.

Thanks, appreciate it. I'll be ok. G x