Steadfast
Chapter 4
She signed out of bloody sheer frustration. She couldn't believe just how difficult it all was. All she wanted to do was open a box of coco pops, but in her injured state it was such hard work.
She screamed out in frustration. Childish she knew, but it felt good. No one could hear her though, not anymore. Cursing that she'd moved into the small bedsit, all by herself, instead of into one of the flat shares on offer, but on leaving the barracks she'd wanted some independence, and more importantly some privacy. So when this small living space came free two months ago up she jumped at the chance to take it. She how had the privacy she'd craved for, just when she needed company. However despite all that she loved it. It wasn't perfect but it was all hers.
It had all been going so well, as planned, great in fact, until ten days ago when she had her accident. Slipping, spectacularly, in a wet muddy field, while on a training exercise, causing her to become infamous in Military history again.
She'd been running, trying to show off in front of her team, wanting to get to the casualty first and it had in fact only left her with a badly broken leg, right broken forearm, a sprained left wrist, and made her the gossip of the camp.
Injuries...yes, absolutely glory... no. Just breaks, cuts and lots of bruises, which is why her mobility was awful, unable to use the crutches properly, and her ability to be independent seriously in doubt. She'd tried in true Molly Dawes style but was failing.
Smurf had been great, even Rebecca too. Her best mate and his bird were there for her, in a way no one else was. After her overnight say in hospital he'd even moved in for a few days to help. Grateful though at the same time hating it, having to accept his help with her washing and dressing. Molly to be honest was mortified despite Smurf's repeatedly saying he'd seen it all before. Something though he tactfully never uttered in Rebecca's hearing.
Her family, true to their form, had not really made any effort to help, though it did not surprise Molly at all, but it hurt her. If it hadn't been for Smurf she wouldn't have coped, she was 100% certain of that.
However great Smurf and Rebecca were, they couldn't be there all the time, and they certainly were unable to be there this weekend.
Smurf had planned weeks ago a romantic mini break for Rebecca's birthday, he'd pulled out all the stops for her. Despite knowing she needed them Molly insisted they go. They made a show, offered to stay, said they would cancel, but Molly even knew in her self pitying state that wasn't right. Wouldn't hear of it, and so off they gaily went.
Molly sighed trying again with the coco pops. They'd be away for four whole days; she could have starved to death by then at this rate. Four days of her coping on her own, and only hours into the trial she wasn't coping. Now she bloody missed them.
Wearily she perched herself down on a stool. So far that morning all she had managed was to brush her teeth... just...her attempt to splash her face with water abandoned as it was too much like hard work for now. She intended to try later, that she promised herself, but everything was such an effort, and that's why late though the morning was here she was still in her pyjamas and was in desperate need of breakfast. Simple tasks so very hard to do with limited hand use and having to move around the flat by throwing herself from furniture to furniture for support, meant that timings went out the window. As did her motivation. It was only her need for food and pain relief that had forced her out of her bed.
Typical when she needed him he wasn't there. Elvis wasn't around to help her either. He'd called, offered his sympathies and promised to attend to her that day, or maybe the next. Not committing himself to a definite, she held out hope though, but as yet he was a no show. The nursing role not one she imagined he'd be too happy at taking on.
Her understanding side though was being tested. She was now starting to get pissed off with him. He'd offered to help, and she was desperate and therefore would be willing to accept it.
She knew she couldn't complain. He was just a mate, not tied to her anymore romantically. No longer a couple just good friends. Friends, sadly for Elvis as he had mentioned it several times, without the benefits. He'd tried doggedly over the past couple of months to get her back into his bed, but she always said no, was never, not once tempted, knowing it was purely out of a habit he had rather than hormones.
The 'let's just be friends' talk they'd had months ago turned out to be a lot easier than Molly had expected. For her at least, getting the impression that Elvis had few experiences of being the one that was dumped in his life. She certainly hadn't expected that he'd be upset, and was shocked to see that he was ever so slightly. Though, looking back Molly mused she was certain that was due to his pride being dented rather than anything to do with his feelings for her.
Yet he agreed, they agreed, friends, that's all. His wandering eye had caused problems in the past for his ladies and he didn't want to hurt Molly that way. She was a special lady no matter what they were to each other. He knew he would give her no guarantees, not that she even asked for them, she wasn't like anyone he'd had before, she just wanted out.
The front door went, opening and closing. She shifted from the kitchen stool, now uncomfortable, knowing at last, Elvis had arrived, better late than never. A brief wave of guilt washed over her when she considered how upset she'd been getting with his absence. He'd promised and he'd delivered.
Still she teased him.
"It's about time you got that bloody cute arse over her. I'm starving. Come feed me and I'll make it worth your while." She shouted to the visitor before she saw them. Smiling at the look he'd have in his face at her empty promise.
When she did she see him she flushed with embarrassment. Her breath stalled, she blinked, and unsure of what, of whom she saw.
It wasn't Elvis it was Charles.
He apologetically poked his head around the door, hearing what she called out, knowing it wasn't him she'd been expecting. He held up her spare flat key she'd given to Smurf, by way of explanation to his company.
"Shit sorry." He searched the room for anyone else. "Errrr. Right. Rebecca asked me to check on you and bring you this." He held up a bag with a shepherd's pie and snacks in. "She said you'd had an accident...and were alone. Since I was passing I said I'd drop it by." He smiled hopefully at her.
It was partly true, he was keen to help, he was passing by, sort of, but more than anything he was desperate to see Molly again.
As he always did when he hadn't seen her he'd simply missed her.
They hadn't been in each other's company since the regimental BBQ months ago, and so when he heard of her accident, as most of the Army had heard of it because of how it happened, he knew he so badly he needed to see her.
The perfect opportunity came through a chance meeting with Rebecca. When Rebecca mentioned that her and Smurf had been looking after her, but were going away for the weekend he jumped at the chance to help. He therefore offered up his time for Molly and in return he was given the keys to her bedsit, and this was how it all came about. One lovingly homemade shepherd's pie, by his own fair hands, and with a small hope she'd share it with him, he let himself in. Unlike Molly he had a spring in his step as he first entered.
He was startled to see her though even though it was her home, even though Smurf had explained her injuries. Despite it all though she sat there looking so beautiful. He took in the blush that still stained her face. She was embarrassed, he knew why. Here she was semi clad in her sleeping wear, greeting him unexpectedly.
It was the most flesh he'd ever seen of Molly's, and it moved him. He took her all in however, every bit. Her hair was a tangled mess and so in need of a brush, maybe even a wash. There were bruises and cuts all over her non plastered naked toned leg, the trace of a black eye and cheek evident in the poor kitchen lighting. He saw, though beautiful, she still looked wrecked, her face drawn and haggard showing how she was feeling.
Her emotions were mixed, she had hoped to see him again, but not like this. Wishing they could have met again when she wasn't quite so...broken. She felt acutely away of how little she had on, and how rough she looked.
Since their talk, since she was no longer his best mate's girl Molly had thought of little else. Had thought of Charles. Secretly hoping he would hear on the grape vine the news she was single again. That maybe even Elvis might give him the information, the facts that would spur him on to come to see her. Yet he'd didn't, for whatever reason, and she began to think she had just got it wrong. He saw her as a friend that was all. Yet that wasn't all for Molly. Plain and simple she fancied him, and here he was and she was mortified.
"Oh. Thanks. That's great... thanks." Felling nervous around him, she tried to stand knowing she'd be wobbly. "If you could just pop it over there." She asked wondering just how she'd manage to take it out of the oven on her own. The idea passing into her head that maybe if she asked nicely he'd might even stay and eat with her.
Her good leg wasn't strong, and her broken one useless. She wobbled and Charles turning from the kitchen counter saw her and grabbed her. His hands grabbing onto her waist, uttering reassuring sounds. Letting her know he had her. The flesh on her camisole riding up in his attempt to hold her, his hands now running over her uncovered skin. She smelt of the sleep muskiness that one carries upon waking. He breathed her in. It was mixed with a fruity smell he always associated with Molly from their time on tour. A happy sunshine smell. Unconsciously his large splayed hands holding her moved slightly allowing his thumbs to minutely stroke her sides.
It felt delicious.
She couldn't stop staring at him and holding onto his arm for support, she smiled into his eyes.
"Thanks." She uttered.
Her words sadly though broke the spell. He came to his loyal senses. Although she was free, single, available Charles didn't know that. The state of play between her and Elvis hadn't been communicated to him by anyone. And so Charles still believed that he had been holding his best mate's girl too closely, too rightly, too perfectly in his arms. It felt so good but so wrong and he pulled away. Ever the gentleman. Ever the loyal friend.
They just stared at each other. Molly shocked by his touch yet again, fractionally pushing her body into his as he held her, relishing the tiny movement of his thumbs on her. Awakening her briefly, but then instantly feeling him stiffen, fearing that the act of holding her must have been an unwelcome complication for him.
She moved away unsteadily at first watching his head dip as he spun himself on his heels, moving away from her. Focusing again on his bag of goodies. Unpacking them for her. Distracting himself from the feelings that had flooded his heart.
"So what can I do to help?" He asked, robotically all emotion sucked out of his words. "Anything?"
She found it hard to ask but needed help, she was starving and by now she guessed Elvis would be a no show.
"I'd love some breakfast." She merely said and nodded to the unopened cereal box as he turned to look at her. His face full of query.
He soon had her settled on the couch, leg supported, TV remote close by, while he made her breakfast. He enjoyed this small act of kindness towards her. He set the tray with her coco pops, as well as her antibiotics and painkillers he'd guessed she'd need. He then set to, without asking, on making her a bacon butty. He thought she'd looked thin and drawn when he'd arrived. She needed taking care of; he knew that he couldn't walk away from her. She needed him.
As she thanked him again and again for his kindness he blushed, uncomfortable with her praise, looking anywhere but at her while she gave it. She still remained in a thin cami top and short night shorts and so his eyes had to focus on anything other than her and her trim battered body. It was almost too much for him, drawing on all his reserves.
His inability to look at her gave him time to assess the situation around him. As he scanned around the room he could see signs of her struggling to cope. Empty glasses and cups, empty packets of biscuits and crisps, signs she'd been snacking rather than eating proper food.
As Charles attempted to tidy up Molly kept the conversation light. She was grateful, but also sad how he seemed to be doing anything apart from look at her. He was friendly but that was all and it confused her. They seemed to have moments; they seemed to have connections, then nothing. He seemed at times to have wanted to be anywhere but there with her.
Her phone beeped and as she read the text she let out a groan of frustration.
"Problem?" He asked raising his eyes to her disappointed face.
"Yeah. You could say that. Its Elvis. He was meant to come today to help me...get dressed and that." She explained embarrassed. "He's been sent off somewhere, again, for God knows how long." She threw down her phone. "Bloody typical."
He stood immediately, on hearing Elvis name. Was ready to leave. Ready to make way, step aside for his mate. Then he stopped
"I could help." He offered, bashfully, and then showed a very unsure smile to her as he did.
She looked at him, wanting nothing more than to accept his help. She needed his help, but the thought of him helping her wash, dress, him touching her was too much. It was intimate, something she would usually relish, had thought she'd want that from him, but he'd seemed cold, detached. She felt he was very much there out of some loyalty to duty, not because he wanted to be. This wasn't what she wanted. She was too proud. She stayed steadfast.
"Nah. You're all right. I'll manage. Just takes time."
He was relieved she could see that, what she couldn't see though was just how disappointed he was. He'd do anything for her, to help her. Anything for his best mate's girl, to make her happy. Even if that meant he wasn't.
After several offers and several refusals Charles found his excuses still to be there, to be with her, were running out. He could see that she was wanting him to leave, sensing her discomfort around him, and so he left.
The small bedsit was very empty without his presence. She felt lonely immediately. Though the lovely clean smell of him still lingered on her cheek where he dutifully had pecked her good bye. A peck that said it all to her, there was no softness, no need to it. It was just an expected way of saying yet again another good bye to her. This time she didn't lean in, she accepted the cold friendly kiss as it was given, her eyes down cast to hide her sadness at him leaving. She hoped he'd stay longer, have lunch with her, she'd hoped for his company and a lot more. But he left.
He couldn't do it. He climbed into his car and started to drive away. Yet he knew he couldn't continue and so he turned around instantly, letting himself in once again to her home. Calling out this time well before to announce his presence.
"Molly? Molly?" And then he heard something fall in the bathroom. Knowing he'd made the right decision. "You ok?"
"Shitting hell." She cried from behind the closed door. "Charles?" You nearly gave me a Julius Caesar. What you doing back here?"
He laughed as he saw her creak the door open. Her hair half pulled back and rivers of water running down her face. The bathroom floor flooded in her attempt to wash. Her crutch abandoned on the floor.
"I've come back. I can't leave you. You're might gonna need me." Was all he said.
She laughed happily as he walked into the bathroom and motioned for her to sit on the toilet. It looked so out of place. This stern Captain washing her face with a warm flannel, gentle, with such care.
"That's all I can do." He said as he stood back and surveyed his work. Her face and hands washed, a clean t-shirt dropped over her head, while he closed his eyes, and fresh shorts pulled with the utmost delicacy and decency onto her. He'd even tried to tie her hair back, and after much laughing he'd sort of succeeded.
"Thank you." She said ever so quietly and looked at him. The sprained wrist just allowed her fingers to touch his hand, just allowed them to stay there. Connecting then.
She watched him swallow hard, saw the look of conflict cross his face, and then saw him turn away. It was too much for him, he broke her touch.
"I can't do this." He said as he turned back and helped her back into the sitting room. "It's not right."
"Charles." She started, needing to tell him. Needing to explain. Wanting to talk.
"No. It's not right Molly. It's not going to happen." He moved off and started back towards the bathroom, shouting over his shoulder as he went. "I can't leave you. You're coming with me."
She'd expected them to talk, expected them to work their changing friendship out. What she hadn't expected was for her to be, without much consent from her, to be bundled off to spend the weekend with Charles at his parent's house in Bath.
She lay there in the guest room. Clean, fresher than she had been for days and blissfully happy. Charles' Mum had been amazing. A former nurse she took control straight away when Charles turned up on their doorstep with a broken stranger, bedraggled, who he introduced as his friend. There had been a sly look that pasted between his parents that Molly missed, but that was all.
So his mum, Elizabeth, on Molly's arrival barked out orders to Charles and Edward as she organised things.
Within the hour Molly had been showered, courtesy of the plastic cast protector Charles had be sent off to Boots to buy, her hair was a washed, dried and was now dressed in clean clothes. Eventually she got to lie in the bed, exhausted by the whole experience and her unexpected day so far.
There was a gentle tap at the door, and she nervously told whoever was to enter.
She saw Charles sheepishly poke his head around the door, bearing a tray of food. Molly's stomach growled.
He grinned as he heard and placing the food down on the side, rushing over to her as she struggled to sit. Making her comfortable as possible was his mission with as many numerous pillows he could use. As she moved her hair fell against her face and he saw it annoyed her. He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked the stray hairs away from her face, softly pacing them behind her ears. As gentle as any woman could want to be touched by the man her heart was starting to yearn for. Charles though realising the danger he was in he stood up. Moving away, taking back control.
"Made you some dinner. Scramble eggs and smoked salmon. Thought it would be easy to eat." He explained as he laid a tray carrying her banquet for one on her lap. Painkillers and antibiotics thoughtfully there too.
Molly was embarrassed Eating left handed wasn't too easy, but the soft food and thoughtful provision of a spoon helped. She thanked him then greedily attacked the best food she'd had in days.
"Thanks." She managed between mouthfuls. Laughter dancing in her eyes as he watched her.
"Bloody hell. Hungry Dawes?" He teased. "You're not in the mess now. No one's going to pinch it."
She stopped and finished her mouthful. "Sorry. Just bloody hungry." Then added. "Are you not eating?"
"Mine's downstairs." Then as she raised her eyes brows at him as he spoke, he suggested. "I could go down and bring it up if you like? Eat together? That is." He laughed. "If you haven't finished before I get back."
And so that's what he did. They ate their dinner together and once he'd cleared the plates away, he sat on the floor by her bedside and they talked.
He told her of his childhood in the house. The big old house, bigger than Molly had ever imagined, despite Elvis' tales. He told her of stunts him and Elvis used to get up to, and scrapes they'd been in. He noticed she listened, but wasn't hungry for information about Elvis, guessing his friend had already told her these tales before.
"You sound as though you had a happy childhood." She said watching him from across the room. She was still propped up in bed while he'd moved to the other side of the room, sitting on the floor, his long legs laid out in front of him.
"Yeah I did. Longed for a brother or sister. But it wasn't to be. Have lots of cousins though." He laughed at the ridiculous amount he actually had.
"Surprised you chose the Army then. Thought you'd be a home bird and all that." She questioned him further.
"No. Loved the Army...still do. It's all I ever wanted really...to live life out of a Bergan...still is...well that was until..." He didn't finish. He wanted to say ...'until I met you'...but he didn't. It would have been wrong. He quickly changed the subject away from him. "What about you? Why the Army?"
"It's all I had. Could see my life as being a bit shit, so I thought why not? Best bloody thing I did." She wanted to add, especially since it meant she met him, but she didn't. He wouldn't have wanted to hear that.
A comfortable silence hung over them, he could see though she was tired.
"You know you can stay here for as long as you like? Mum would love it." He offered noting the hesitancy in her face. "I was planning on being here until Wednesday, then could come back at the weekend to see you... if that's not too weird."
"Not wired at all." She smiled, touched at how at times he really seemed to care. "Just kind, really really kind. Thank you."
"So is that a 'yes' then?" He stood up and moved to pick the food tray up.
"It's a maybe." She said and shuffled down into the bed. "Are you going? You don't have to. You could stay a bit longer." She knew her voice sounded needy, but for now, for once she didn't really care.
And so he stayed. They talked for a bit longer. He resumed his place opposite her on the floor. However it wasn't long after that he noticed she'd drifted off. Happily remembering that this was the second time he had been with her as she slept. The second time he had felt privileged to be in her company while she slumbered.
This time though there was no disguising it, she did look beautiful. The dark circles abating from her eyes, the drawn pained look from earlier in the day gone. She looked sweet, half curled up in the sheets and pillows of his family home. Burrowing down as though she was making her home right there in the bedding. Her hair fanned out around her, framing her. It was a sight he knew he'd always remember.
Standing to leave, to allow her to sleep more, on impulse he bent down. He neared her face, her gentle breath flutter on his skin as he got closer. It was like he was in slow motion, yet everything seemed to be going so fast. The speed of it all stopping him from having any control. His lips lightly pressed deliciously on to her cheek. A perfect loving gesture this time. His fingers traced the bruise there, gently, trying to wipe away her pain, and then he pulled himself reluctantly away.
Leaving the room his lips continued to tingle at the touch where they'd had been on her skin. The feel of her so close to him was something he'd never be able to explain. His fingers almost burned where he'd stroked her face, where he had dared to feel her and enjoy her.
Beautiful feelings that he battled to keep afloat before the taint of guilt, of remorse that he knew would come, would surface and spoil them. Feelings of regret that would ruin the beautiful moment he'd just had.
Gently the door closed. She knew she was alone. Her hand went instantly to her cheek. He'd woken her with his soft kiss, the softest kiss she'd ever had but she didn't open her eyes. The kiss may have been gentle, soft, but to Molly it was hard hitting.
She hadn't opened her eyes, too scared to break the spell as she had once before.
Too happy to spoil the moment, of him being near to her as she once dreamed he could be. Too happy and now she couldn't fall back asleep.
Her mind, her heart was racing. Too happy. To excited, too full of all the possibilities that their future could now hold.
