Crash Course in Polite Conversations
Margaret James was just about to turn off the lights on the second floor when she was startled by the slam of the front door. What on earth? Frowning, she listened for a few minutes to the not so hushed voices below. Voices? Oh so he'd brought her back had he? Thank goodness she was safe. Margaret and Richard had been dying to meet Molly since she had saved Charles' life 6 months earlier. Molly's increasing commitments to the Army, Charles' rehab, not to mention their own frequent travel plans often meant that they were rarely in Bath at the same time. They were like two ships who passed in the night, often missing each other by a few days or even hours. Margaret couldn't resist the urge to take a peak and quietly poked her head over the banister. She shook her head in amusement and grinned at what she saw.
Charles was stumbling through the hallway, clearly slightly worse for wear, with an equally tipsy Molly wrapped around his back as he attempted to carry her through the house as quietly as possible. Molly had her heels in her hands and was attempting to stifle her giggles into his shoulder. Wait a minute was that? No surely not. Margaret strained her ears. Was Charles actually singing a Christmas song? Margaret paused to listen. It was nice to see her son so care free. She'd missed this side of him. When Charles had text to say Molly had arrived home from Afghan and had surprised him by turning up in Bath, Margaret had hoped a first meeting was imminent. Charles had planned for them to spend a few quiet days together so Molly could acclimatise back into civilian life in peace before returning to the madness of home. Their plans had been short lived after they had received a late night phone call from one of the lads. As Christmas was fast approaching, the lads from Two Section had taken it upon themselves to hold a 12 days of Christmas karaoke tour. 12 days. 12 cities. Both Molly and Charles had decamped back to London to meet the lads for a few Christmas drinks on night number seven of the tour. Seeing as they were back in Bath 24 hours later, Margaret could only guess which city was night number eight. Although Margaret wanted nothing more than to meet Molly properly, she knew that they both needed time to re-connect with their section. Considering the circumstances in which they were last all together, a Christmas night out filled with laughs and fun was just what he doctor ordered.
"Baby I really can't stay. Baby it's cold outsideeee!"
Good grief her son didn't have the best voice when drunk. It was a shame really he usually had a lovely voice.
"Charles Shhhhh! We have to be quiet else we'll wake up your parents. I ain't having them meet me for the first time completely trollied. First impressions are important ya know. Least, that's what me Corp durin' basic used to say," whispered Molly not quietly at all. Margaret frowned as she caught the flash of uncertainty in Molly's eye before her view was blocked as Charles carefully lowered her to the ground and turned her so her back was facing Margaret. From what she did see her son had been right. She did have lovely big, expressive green eyes. Not to mention she was tiny. How on earth had she managed with her kit out in Afghan? Charles, sensing Molly's sudden shift in mood, gently cupped her face and tilted her head up so their eyes met.
"Molly?"
"What if they don't like me? I ain't posh or well educated like you. What if they think I'm some sort of east end trollop only after you for your money? What if they think I'm not good enough? Not to mention Sam. I know how important he is to you. I just…." She was cut off as Charles placed a finger on her lips, all traces of drunkenness gone. Margaret shook her head and had to grip the bannister to stop herself from rushing down the stairs and wrapping her in a great big bear hug. Since she had learnt of Molly's existence, she had heard many things to describe her character. She had been dubbed brave, courageous and full of valour in her Military Cross citation. Charles had described her as cheeky, fun, fiercely independent and loyal to a fault. Her quick thinking on several occasions showed her to be selfless, extremely street smart and calm under pressure. Watching her now and remembering what Charles had said about her life before the Army, it was clear that she was also extremely self-conscious and lacking in self- confidence.
Margaret knew that both Molly and Charles were equally nervous about how their first meeting was going to play out. It seemed Molly in particular, was worried that her past and background would work against her. Margaret could only hope that Charles was able to persuade her otherwise. From an early age, both Margaret and Richard had took great care to encourage Charles to look beyond social standing, wealth and status and focus on a person's behaviour, actions and moral character. They raised him to be a gentleman, to hold doors open and pull out chairs, to treat everyone equally and with respect. Charles firmly believed that everything in life was down to luck. Who you meet and who you fall in love with is all down to pure chance. It didn't matter where you were born or who you were born to, whether you are rich or poor, a beggar or a thief. Everything is down to the luck of the draw. As far as Margaret was concerned, if Molly was the girl to make her son happy, any past mistakes or misdeeds didn't matter a jot.
She was brought from her musings by Charles' reply. "Molly Dawes! Since when have you ever cared what people think of you? You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I've met all manner of people whilst on tour, you know that better than anybody. I don't care where you came from. As for the money, I thought you were with me for my looks?" At Charles' attempt at humour Molly sent him a swift smack around the head. With a chuckle he carried on, "so you didn't do well in school. So what? You've proven yourself since you joined the Army. Did you really think they'd pass you if you couldn't cut it? You save lives for a living Dawes. You don't take any shit from anybody and you say and do what the bloody hell you like regardless of the consequences. You're unflinchingly honest, funny, and have this completely unique ability to see the beauty and light in the darkest of places. As for my parents, they don't care about status. They both abhor those fancy dinners full of self-centred, fake and shallow individuals. Just be yourself and I promise you they will love you as much as I do."
As Charles finished his speech Margaret couldn't help but give a silent cheer in agreement at his words. Molly stared at Charles for a few minutes before she replied. "Bleadin' hell Boss, only you could give such an eloquent and profound speech completely plastered."
"Oi! Watch it Dawes! We better head up. Big day tomorrow. Sam and my parents are dying to meet you. Sam hasn't stopped talking about you since the hospital. Drives Rebecca mad apparently. I can only hope we haven't woken them up already."
"WE? Jog on Bossman! If anyone woke them up it's you with your awful singing. Remind me not to go carolling with you whilst I'm here yeah! Besides I need some water. My heads poundin'." Molly's remark was accompanied by a cheeky impish grin. "Oh you'll pay for that one Dawes I promise you." with that he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder and started along the hallway to the kitchen. Margaret dashed as silently as she could across the landing and back into the bedroom. She could here Molly's hushed protests, punctuated by her giggles before Charles shut the kitchen door, preventing any further sound from escaping. Oh lunch tomorrow will be interesting indeed. She'd better made sure she and Richard made themselves scarce first thing. The last thing Molly needed was an awkward introduction over her morning coco pops.
The next morning, Margaret couldn't help but grin in amusement as she eyed Sam in the rear view mirror. Since he had discovered he would be spending the afternoon with his dad and Molly, Sam had been practically bouncing with excitement. If he wasn't strapped in Margaret was sure he would take flight. He reminded Margaret of a Duracell bunny. "Grandma are we there yet? I want to see her." Hearing a chuckle next to her Richard remarked, "What about you're poor old Dad? Aren't you excited to see him too?" at this Sam paused as if deep in thought.
"Yeah, but I see Dad all the time." At that Richard couldn't help but laugh. As they pulled into the crescent Sam's eyes lit up as he spotted their house. It seems like Molly Dawes had cast a spell on more than one James man. Before Richard had turned off the ignition Sam was out the car and racing towards the front door where he stood hopping from one foot to the other impatiently as he waited for the door to open. Laughing at the impatience of her grandson, Margaret unlocked the door and watched as Sam pushed past and took off like a whirlwind in search of his dad.
"Dad! Dad! We're here!" Charles laughed as he came out of the living room, barely managing to catch Sam as he launched himself into his arms.
"I can see that Scamp! Nice to see you to."
"Hi Dad. Missed you! Love you! Is Molly here? Is she ok? Did you give it to her yet?" Margaret raised an eyebrow at the volley of questions Sam threw at Charles. Sometimes she marvelled at the speed of his thoughts. He was like a butterfly fliting from one thought to the next, always curious and questioning the world around him, just like his dad used to do. Charles though, took it all in his stride.
"Well someone's excited today. To answer your questions, yes she is here, she's fine and no I haven't yet. It's still up in your room. Why don't you go get it?" With that Sam hopped down and flew up the stairs, almost tripping in his haste to get away. Margaret greeted her son with a kiss on the cheek. "Everything alright?" Charles, inferring her meaning, grinned sheepishly. "Yeah she's fine. She's finally stopped pacing. I'll admit I was starting to worry for your rug Mum. I've sent her into the living room with a cup of tea to try and calm her down. She's got more energy than a Duracell bunny. "Oi! I heard that Bossman!" An indignant voice called through the doorway. Charles grinned fondly as he led Margaret into the living room where they found Molly hovering near the window wringing her hands nervously.
Molly smiled uncertainly as she came to stand next to Charles. He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Mum, this is Molly." Margaret came forward and smiled at Molly who extended her hand. Margaret saw the flash of panic as she ignored the gesture, instead drawing Molly to her in a hug. She clearly wasn't expecting the gesture as she felt Molly stiffen ever so slightly before relaxing into the embrace. Margaret drew back and held Molly at arms length, taking her in. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you Molly. Charles and Sam haven't shut up about you. We were beginning to think you were some mythical creature though." Charles groaned and shot Margaret a glare which she ignored, her attention focused solely on Molly. "How was your tour? Did you achieve what you set out to do? We've been hearing great things." Margaret watched as Molly blushed in embarrassment. The poor dear was clearly unused to compliments. "Umm thank you ma'am. Yes the tour went well, it was good to go back in a way. The Afghan medics were great students, so eager and enthusiastic to learn all they could to help others." Margaret didn't miss the loaded look she sent Charles when she asked how she was.
"Please dear. Call me Margaret. I'm not the Queen. Well I wasn't when I looked in the mirror this morning." Molly laughed as she allowed Margaret to tow her over to the sofa. "Alright Margaret."
"Mum where's Dad? I thought he went with you to get Sam?" Before Margaret could answer Richard walked through the door carrying various bags of luggage. "Hello troops. What have I missed?" Scanning the room and spotting the new addition he raised an eyebrow in question at his wife. At Margaret's gentle nod of affirmation Richard moved forward to greet Molly. "Ahh so you must be the famous Molly Dawes. How do you do? It's an honour to meet you. I'm glad you're here actually I have it on good authority that you're the nuts with blisters private. If that's the case I have one from my new walking boots that's been giving me frightful bother if you wouldn't mind taking a look later?" Richard joked as he sent Molly a reassuring wink.
Margaret rolled her eyes at her husband's attempt at humour. "Oh, take no notice of him Molly. It's his own fault he didn't break them in before he decided to go on a 3 mile walk. Foolish man. He's got nobody to blame but himself." Molly however, took it all in her stride.
"Not a problem Mr James. I wore heels last night for the first time in months so I feel your pain. Though in all honesty, if your feet smell half as bad as your son's, I may have to politely decline." Molly joked. Margaret couldn't help but laugh. Oh Molly was a cheeky one alright. Richard, knowing all too well when he was fighting a losing battle, had the grace to back down quietly.
"Fair enough, young lady." Charles however, refused to let Molly's dig go unnoticed.
"Oi, watch it Dawes! I can still have you up on a charge you know." Molly merely shook her head and eyed his mischievously, a challenge clear in her eyes. "Oh Yeah? Whatever you say Bossman. We both know you only used them blisters of yours as an excuse to experience my charm and magnetism. Besides, if anybody deserves to be up on a charge it's you for butchering a Christmas classic last night, I thought you could hold a tune or had I just too much sand in me ears?" Charles started at Molly in shock as he realised he had been caught out and insulted all in the same breath. Margaret, never one to miss embarrassing her son, couldn't help but join in. "I'm afraid Molly had a point there my boy. You're singing last night did leave a lot to be desired. I'm surprised the neighbours didn't complain. I think you should endeavour not to sing when you're pissed from now on. You didn't do yourself justice dear." Molly burst out laughing as she gave Charles a reassuring pat on the knee as he huffed. "I thought you of all people would be one hundred per cent by my side Dawes. Now I find you're ganging up on me with my own mother? Where's Sam? I'm sure he appreciates my singing talents, even if nobody else in this family does."
Right on queue they heard the pounding of feet down the stairs before they came to a sudden stop. Charles shook his head. "He better not bloody….." Charles was cut off by an almighty bang which caused Molly to jump. "Sam Charles James how any bloody times have we talked about you jumping the bottom step?" Charles called out sternly. Sam poked his head sheepishly around the doorframe and mumbled "Dad you swore again!" At Charles' raised eyebrow Sam hung his head with a sigh, "you keep telling me that if I jump the bottom step I'll fall through the floor." Hearing a chuckle Sam's head snapped up to focus on Molly, eyes wide. "Don't worry mate, your dad and the lads swore all the time out in Afghan. We started a swear jar in the end." Sam eyed Molly curiously.
"What's that?" he asked eagerly coming over to sit on Margaret's lap.
"Well if you hear someone swear they have to put one pound in a jar." Sam's eyes grew wide.
"What you mean every time?" Molly laughed.
"Yup." Sam grinned as he turned to Margaret and Charles expectantly.
"Dad you owe me a pound. It's a good job I didn't have a swear jar sooner. I could be rich now with the amount of swearing Grandma does, even when she thinks I can't hear."
Despite the fact that her grandson had just dropped her right in it, Margaret marvelled at how quickly Sam warmed up too Molly. It was clear she was a natural around children, but then being the oldest of six, it wasn't that surprising. "Grandma if we find a jar can me and Molly make a swear jar please? I think we should definitely have one." Margaret shook her head at Sam's puppy dog look. She dared anybody to defy those huge brown eyes, an exact replica of his fathers. With a sigh she pretended to consider. "Well, if you ask your dad nicely I'm sure he could find you and Molly one before dinner."
"Can we Dad please?" Charles sent a questioning look at Molly who shrugged. When Charles nodded Sam jumped up and hugged him. "Thanks Daddy. Oh I almost forgot…this is for you Molly" Molly knelt down to Sam's level as she took the card Sam gave her. On the outside was a picture of a smiling figure in army uniform, clearly meant to represent Molly, with the words Thank You on the front. Inside Sam had wrote To Molly, Thank You for saving my Daddy, Love Sam xxx. Molly stared speechless for a few minutes as Sam watched her anxiously. Finally she looked up and gave him a brilliant smile. "I love it mate, thank you." Sam lent forward and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in her neck. Molly pulled him to her as she rocked back on her heels. Sam placed a hand on her cheek and brought his mouth to her ear and whispered "Thank you for bringing back my Daddy. I'm glad you're home safe. Daddy missed you. But shh it's a secret."
Margaret watched the exchange with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't hear what Sam was saying it obviously meant a great deal to Molly who managed to choke out a thank you before returning Sam's hug. Margaret had no doubt that those two would soon be fast friends. Having had a glimpse of Molly's sense of humour, she had an awful feeling Charles would soon be in a world of trouble when those two got together. Seeing how emotional she had gotten Richard leant over and whispered to Margaret, "I like her. She's got spark. She'll keep him on his toes alright make no mistake. Molly's just what this family needs to stir things up and bring some excitement back into this house just you wait and see." As Margaret watched Molly and Sam laugh at Charles she was inclined to agree.
The rest of the day had been spent getting to know each other. Molly had felt comfortable enough to share stories about her experiences in Afghan and took great delight in telling how Charles had been a complete arse in the early days of the tour. She'd gotten her revenge by confessing how she calling him Captain Stern Face, a name Sam and Molly had used the rest of the day to mind him up. Margaret noticed how fondly she spoke about her family and life growing up in Newham, despite its difficulties. She also, rather reluctantly, shared how on her eighteenth birthday, she had ended up throwing up outside the Army recruitment office. Charles had found this hilarious, "Just like mum after her 60th ay dad?" He'd earned a smack for that one. Molly had even won extra brownie points from Sam when he discovered she had grown up a stone's throw away from a football stadium, "I bet you could see loads of matches from your window."
As Margaret pottered about in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to dinner later that evening, she was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. "Is there anything I can help with?" Molly asked. Margaret looked up from the sink and smiled at Molly hovering in the kitchen doorway. She eyed Molly thoughtfully for a few minutes. The longer the silence stretched on, the more nervous Molly got. With a slight smirk, Margaret decided to have some fun.
"Well, you could start by telling me whether or not it's safe for us to eat on the dining room table. If the answer is no then I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to re-lay the table in the drawing room." Molly blushed scarlet. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She could only settle on a shake of her head.
"Lovely" Margaret replied clapping her hands together. "Now, dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes, why don't you go sit with Sam for a bit. He said something about you teaching him Sang Chill Bazi? Apparently Charles is shit at it." There was no mistaking the mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she talked about her family. The longer Molly spent around the James matriarch the more obvious it was to her where Charles got his cheeky charm and playfulness from. With a shy nod, unable to meet Margaret's eye, Molly turned to leave. "Molly?" As she turned back Margaret reached out and took her hand. "Thank you." Molly shot her a confused look.
"For what?"
"Oh all sorts of things dear. First thank you for looking after my boy and bringing him home to us. Secondly for being so good about Sam, he adores you. Thank you for reminding Charles how to laugh and smile again. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, thank you for being his light when things got dark. I'd also say thank you for caring for his blisters but I don't envy you that task one bit." Molly laughed softly and replied quietly, "It was nothing. I was only doin' me job Mrs James.. Margaret." Gently, Margaret took Molly's hand in her own and gave it a squeeze. "It was certainly not nothing. I don't know how we can ever repay you for bringing our boy home. Just know that you are always welcome here. Your part of the family now." Molly took a shaky breath and managed to whisper a thank you before turning to leave the room. Margaret watched her go. One thing was for sure, Richard had been wrong. Molly wouldn't bring the house to life. She already had the moment she'd walked through the door several months ago.
A/N: Thank you so much for all the support and encouragemnet with this story, it really means a lot. Please R&R.