If the World Was Ending
Chapter 7
He stood back and just watched.
As always she was part of the crowd. Part of the giggling group, part of the gossip. He'd always envied that about her. Her ability just to fit in.
In those early days she needed a few little pointers about first impressions, always too keen to drop in a cheeky comment or two, but as the years went by no matter what the occasion Molly just fitted in.
He had been unsure as to whether or not he was going to attend. An annual event that they always had attended together in the past, but for many a year he had missed the fun. The much publicised and embattled Tri Services rugby tournament. A big deal to all the teams involved. He knew this year though for certain that Molly would be attending as he had seen her name on the list of volunteer medics. She was to be one of the many patrolling the touchlines to deal with numerous dislocated fingers, broken bones and busted noses. It was something she'd done before and he'd always watched amazed at how somebody so small, so slight, could take control of the situation no matter how large and how big it was.
That had what had happened today. The games played, the results finalised, the victors declared. Now finally all the teams came together in the social for drinks. Celebratory ones for the winners, commiseration ones for the losers. And this is where he found Molly right in the middle of it all enjoying herself.
They briefly said 'hello' to each other during the day, but she was kept busy and away from socialising further.
When he had entered the social club tonight hers was the first face he looked for, and within moments found it. She greeted him with a shy half smile, and half wave. It was warm, it was friendly and that's all he could expect.
Over the past couple of months, they had met many times since that morning where he had awoken stiff and uncomfortable on the chair in her bedroom.
They had had several conversations about what had happened, how it had happened, and only briefly touched on why it happened.
They were talking.
They were in contact again, but it was so very unsatisfactory. Charles was finding it so very difficult. He knew he wasn't giving Molly everything she needed. He was unsure if he could ever do that again. He knew he had so many faults to admit to, and so many issues still flying around his head. It still felt uncomfortable to talk to her still, it was forced, awkward and neither of them felt better by the end of their meet ups. He still felt too much pride to let go of the image of the man she once adored.
Charles knew that Molly found these meetings less than satisfactory too. She never had actually said, instead she tried to be encouraging and friendly, but he could see behind her eyes there was still sadness; disappointment. The meetings were always too formal, too controlled, and totally lacked any warmth. A thousand miles away from the Charles and Molly from yesteryear. A thousand miles away from what he truly felt, and what he wished he had the courage in his heart to deliver each and every time. There hadn't even remotely been any physical contact either, just glimpses of emotions, facts, opinions and apologies.
He knew though he needed to give her more.
He spent the night mixing with friends, and with people that he had disconnected with. All of them kind and not asking too many questions, but most of them knew. He still saw the occasional look of sympathy in the faces he met, heard the whispers of gossip once they appreciated that he and Molly were in the same room together. He couldn't blame them though. This was an event that had never happened before, an event he had never thought would happen again. Both of them in the same place at the same time.
The night passed by. Eventually Molly came slowly over to talk to him. Yet again, he cursed himself, she had made the first move. She felt sympathy for him though. She knew he was being seen as the villain of the piece in all this, and even though he very much was, she still didn't want that for him.
"We seem to be the topic of conversation." She said with a giggle as she walked over him. Waving her glass around the room towards the crowds. They both knew they were being talked about.
He laughed and smiled. Yet he knew it was more tragic than funny.
"Could say that!" As he noticed that they had suddenly gained more attention just by her proximity to him.
Some people in the crowd wondering how they would interact with one another, and others waiting and watching to see what would transpire, as there were not many people in the room that knew that Molly and Charles were finally talking to each other again. That the anger, the burst of fireworks that most people in the room were hoping for wouldn't happen, wasn't going to. They were beyond that.
"So how have you been?" He said as he skilfully moved them away to a quiet corner and away from curious eyes.
"Good." She smile "And you?"
If anybody had been close enough to hear them, had been listening and didn't know their history they would have thought that these two were complete and utter strangers. It was polite and difficult, they both felt that.
They both began to speak at the same time.
Charles dipped his head.
"Ladies first." He gallantly offered.
And she smiled. That was the Charles she remembered, the polite considerate gentleman.
"I've got something to tell you." She said.
Instantly his heart stilled. Fearful of where this was going. They hadn't shared much over the past couple of meetings, but he got the impression that she wasn't with anyone, and now he was wondering whether or not this was all going to come tumbling around him.
"I'm leaving." She said quickly before he had time to respond. "Well, that is I'm off into it again." She said.
"Where?" He said, unhappy at the thought that their reconciliation was going to be interrupted by her disappearance. "Where? When?"
"Bloody Falklands." She laughed out. "Freezing cold and lots of bloody penguins. Not exactly my bag now is it?" She smiled. "Will be gone for nearly 3 months." She added with a touch of sadness.
She too knew that her disappearance out of his life was something that they could only mourn. That any progress that they had made potentially was going to be stilted, damaged, even stopped by her not being in the same country as him.
"Wow three months." He attempted to smile and struggled to find something to say.
She hoped he would say that he would miss her. She hoped that he would ask if he could write to her. She hoped that he would asked to see her again before she left, but he did not. He just merely sat there quiet.
She should've known better. She wanted more but knew that Charles wasn't able to give more. Before her he had once admitted he had always been cold and tight with his emotions. He always held back when he was unsure on what to say, to scared of saying the wrong thing. Then he admitted that their marriage, her being in his life, had started to change him, he became more open, free with his emotions and what he shared.
That was right until Elvis died. Right up until the very end where he stopped sharing with her at all. The PTSD kicked in, and all she could see was the return of the closed off, stern faced Captain that she had met on the tarmac all those years ago. When it happened, she felt that she had lost a bit of the Charles that had been part of them as a couple.
That had grown and blossomed when their story started. She felt that she had lost more than just a husband, she had lost a man, his personality, his company to the torture of PTSD.
Still, he said nothing. It was pointless hanging around. She could tell he had no more to give her. No more conversation to take part in, and so she stood to leave.
She was surprised when she saw his face twist in absolute shock.
"You're leaving?" He asked suddenly and sharply. "What now?"
Charles thought he had more time, more time to sit and talk to her, more time to marshal his thoughts but now it seemed to have run out.
"Yeah, got lots to do. I go in three weeks, " She said and again he felt her loss.
"Thought we might've had a chance to have a chat... you know before you leave?" He said with honesty.
She merely just smiled at him as she turned to go. She felt drained and as though she had nothing more to give. She needed to receive from him now. She had little more to give. Emotion washed over her.
"Sorry. I gotta go…..see you soon." And then she turned before he could grab hold of her to stop her.
It hurt. Her walking away. When he wanted to talk. When he wanted to see more of her. When he had wanted to get her to listen, and then that's when he realised this was just what she must have felt like all those years ago when he was cutting her out. The stone cold realisation of it all hurt and left him wondering just what he had done. He knew he now had time to try to work it all out. That her leaving was the shakeup maybe he needed.
The original three months and a few more went by just as Molly had predicted. Cold, with plenty of penguins. She enjoyed the challenge of the work and had plenty to keep her busy. The planned time, and then the extra months added on as she covered sick leave, went quickly by and she started to anticipate her return home even more. She had missed England. She had missed her life there.
She always did, but this time she had something to look forward too. Before she had left she had half completed on a small house; her first home since her and Charles had ended. So, when she returned, all the paperwork was to have been completed and she was finally going back to her own home. Her own place; somewhere where she could start a life and start rebuilding what had been destroyed.
In her time away she had messaged Charles once or twice. Had never written, just replied to the odd email he had sent through. She had missed him, like she always had, but this new environment, this distance away, had shown her that she had just been holding on, waiting. Hoping that talking to him again, having conversations with him would give her life a direction. Yet it hadn't, each and every unsatisfactory meeting with Charles made her realise that that was never going to happen. That it was no longer in Charles' power to change her life. It was down to her, and so the perfect little two up two down terraced house she had just bought was a start.
Jackie and her husband had been real friends in her absence. They had moved her boxes from the barracks into the property as soon as the contracts had been exchanged. They'd helped her yet again, and their help meant this time when she returned she wasn't going back to a lonely soul destroying room, but to a home where, after a few hours of unpacking boxes, she could immediately rest her head.
"I can't believe you're buying everything new." Jackie had said through the crackled telephone line weeks after Molly had given instructions for yet another delivery. "Are you not going to have anything from your old house?"
Molly shook head shook while holding the telephone.
"No. I didn't come away with much. Remember? Made it kind of impossible for Charles to do anything. Didn't hang around to discuss, share it out. So, I guess he just got rid of the stuff."
"You're a bloody muppet Mols. There was some nice tasty stuff in that house of yours." Jackie laughed.
Molly laughed to because time had passed long enough to allow her to see the funny side of it all.
"Yeah I know but some of it was on on loan, and not me. Most of it came from his mother." And no more was said.
There was no other feeling like it She knew the first time she had done it in her first home with Charles, and the thrill still felt the same. The putting of her key into her new front door. It didn't matter that she was greeted by dark silence and familiar boxes. What mattered was the sense that she finally belong somewhere and finally had the start of a life worth living.
"What do you mean she doesn't live here anymore?" He spoke loudly and confused. "Where's she gone?"
The girl just looked at him up and down. She could see he was desperate but she was too busy to become engrossed in a stranger's love life.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I don't know. I'm new here all I know is this my room now and I don't know who this Molly person is."
She shut the door very definitely in Charles' face and he slowly walked towards the car.
He'd heard through the grapevine of Molly's eventual return date and waited a day or two before he turned up at her barracks. Her absence in his life was hurting more than it ever had. That night seeing her walk away brought forth the courage that somehow had been lacking up until now. He resolved this time, this time he was not going to fuck it up. This time he was going to talk to her, and so soon as he felt it was commonly decent he made this way over to her barracks to see her, only to be confronted with the news that she no longer lived there.
He panicked. He didn't know where she was, where she had gone. Sad that she hadn't shared with him. For years he lived in total ignorance about where she was. Had cut himself off from all that emotion, it had been the only way he could cope. Yet now, somehow that wasn't for him. Now he felt he needed to know where she was, and the fact that he didn't, that she hadn't told him, that she hadn't shared…..hurt.
He spent days working out how to get information about where she lived. Unsure whether or not it was professionally ethical to call in favours to find out more personal details. And so eventually he turned to the best friend he'd ever had, still his number one supporter. His mother. Within days he'd had Molly's new address. Using it is a ruse to send her a happy new home card. His mother knew better though, and as soon as she had it she passed it on to Charles she gave him that look of warning only a mother could give.
"She doesn't just mean the world to you Charles." Elizabeth said. "She means the world to me and your father too. Don't mess it up. Don't hurt her again."
"I won't." He promised her. "Not this time. Never again."
Just then Edward came out of the kitchen with his own warning.
"She'll forgive you once Charles, but she won't do it again. This is your one and only chance."
Charles hung his head, no matter how old he was , still being told off by your parents was a fearful thing.
"You have to be honest son." Edward continued. "You have to be open and more importantly you have to let her in."
Charles looked at his determined but hopeful parents. Kissing them both on the cheeks and saying his goodbyes he set off on his mission.
She woke disorientated for the moment. Unsure where she was. It sometimes felt like that for a day or two after she returned. Yet this time it was more than that. This time there seemed to be a longing for something, she felt as though she was missing something. Rolling over she touched the cold lonely side of her bed. Never quite getting use to not sharing her bed with him anymore, but this time her sadness was more.
She had some extended leave. Some deserved R and R, and she knew the house, unpacking was going to fill her time. Yet she felt a twinge of guilt that she as yet hadn't told Charles she was back in England. Didn't know if she should, needed to or even wanted to. She hadn't missed the exhaustion that accompanied her decisions about whether or not to meet him when she was way. She hadn't missed the feeling of being still not enough for him. Hasn't missed that feeling that he still wasn't open enough with her. He still wasn't giving her what she needed. She enjoyed the freedom of the metal anguish the distance gave her and was reluctant to let it go, and so on her return she didn't make contact with him.
The knock on the door surprised her. It was early and as she moved towards the hallway she recognised the silhouette of a man she had once wanted more than life itself. She plastered a false smile of welcome on her face and opened the door to see him standing there, half apologetic, half unsure of himself.
"You're back." He simply said. "You didn't tell me."
She nodded her head, agreeing with his statement.
"No, I didn't."
"And you've moved." He tried to be cheery. "Another thing you didn't tell me." His tone irritated her. His ability to walk into her life as though she still owed him something.
"What do you want Charles?" She asked directly as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot still standing on the doorway.
It was a small row of terrace houses and the front doors were close to one another. He knew his appearance of her doorstep was becoming a curiosity with some of the neighbours.
"Came to see you." He tried with false cheerfulness. Offered her the pot plant he held under his arm. "For you...a gift."
She took a moment to say her thanks. Expecting that to be all. Then quickly realised he was expecting to be invited in. She sighed, and knew he heard, then step to the side nodding for him to move down the small hallway.
"Best come in I guess." She said with a little enthusiasm.
He stood in the room which was very much Molly. He recognised a few pieces of the stuff that they shared, but that was all. He saw that this wasn't their home but hers.
"It's nice, cosy." His head dipped in a way that he was attempting to look into the other room. "I presume that's the kitchen?" He asked.
She gave a noncommittal smile and just murmured her answer.
"So, you're happy here?" He continued desperately trying. Wanting to show her he had changed. He was struggling though, and even though she knew that, she didn't feel strong enough or even charitable enough to help him out.
"I am." Molly said and added no more.
He merely just nodded his head, tucked his hands into his coat pocket and wondered how he was going to begin.
Yet he must. He knew that.
"I missed you." He said louder than he expected. He was unsure whether or not it was the volume of his words or the actual words he'd spoken that made her head snap up. She just looked at him instead.
"When you were away." He continued, but still she said nothing. He knew that maybe she wouldn't. But this was his time to be brave, not hers so he asked. "So, did you miss me?"
He didn't know what to expect, he just hoped that the answer would have flown out her mouth and it would have been a definite 'yes'; but it wasn't. Instead, she moved herself forward and sat down on one of the armchairs.
"My days of missing you Charles are well and truly over. You made sure of that the last time you walked out and left us. That time you walked out and ended our marriage." She said so quietly.
"Molly." He began but she held her hand up to stop him.
"Don't. Please don't. I can't be playing this game Charles. I thought this is what I wanted. I thought hell it might even be what you wanted. For us to get back together, for us to talk. But that's just it, isn't it? We ain't." She stressed. "No matter what's gone on over the past couple of times we met we still haven't had any real conversations. You still haven't really talked. You're still shutting me out, not letting me in.
He listened in absolute horror. He fully appreciated what she was saying. He knew that he'd failed her, their reconciliation again . Yet tonight he'd come in earnest to start moving things forward, but now he realised he was too late.
"It just ain't working." And Molly made a definite gesture for him to start following her and moved towards the front door once again.
"But we could try again? Talk a bit more?" He said full of hesitancy.
She stopped and smiled sadly at him.
"I think we can be friends Charles, but I think that's all."
"No...yeah...I mean I just don't understand." His mind was messed up now and confused.
"You still haven't let me in Charles. Committed yourself to making this right. To us. You still can't and I'm not brave enough just to have half of you again."
She reach to open the front door. and smiled at him.
"Thanks for the pot plant." And then she stood on her tiptoes and give him a kiss on his unshaven cheek remembering the feeling from the past. "Take care Charles. See you around."
It was weeks later that she was still trying to recover from what she had said, but she hadn't regretted it one. Knowing she was putting herself first, something she hadn't done for a very long time. Knowing she was moving on, just like she deserved to.
Her days passed and soon she returned back to work, all leave over. Molly enjoyed the business of her time and found her days long and full. Full enough to push Charles and all the hurt to the back of her mind for at least a few hours. It was an improvement.
Then one evening she returned home to find a large parcel waiting for her, his neat writing immediately obvious on the front label.
She wasn't prepared for what she found. Had expected a present. Another gift, or even something that had been left behind from their old house. Instead, she was very much surprised. As she opened a box she saw dated and in chronological order his diaries.
They started approximately six months after his return from that disastrous tour . Six months from the end of their marriage. All the explanation of the contents of the box was simple note.
Miss you. Missed you more than I could ever say. I'm sorry. I hope reading these will help you to see that I do...did.
I love you and always will.
Charles x
She was engrossed. She couldn't put them down. They were so heartbreaking. They were his mental ramblings of the the journey he'd been on. Part of his treatment, part of his therapy, part of his recovery, and part of his confession.
He had been logical in his writing and prolific. He seemed to be at ease, once he started, writing down his emotions on paper. It appeared far easier than speaking them to her. Through her tears she could see the irony of it. How simple it could have been to get them to be open with each other if only they had thought. She should've known that this was the perfect way to get him to open up, because he always used to write beautiful emotional heartfelt letters to her whenever they were separated. And here he was writing down his inner most, deepest thoughts, and finally sharing them with her.
She at one stage found herself skimming pages to reach the entries for mentions of Georgie, but she only appeared once or twice. Where as Molly's name appeared again and again and again. His regret for hurting her, his hate at himself for hurting her, his remorse that he could hurt her, and his disbelief that he had.
The diaries were ones of a tortured man. Tortured by what he had done, by the man he had become, and tortured by the man he'd left behind. Had lost.
She cried. She spent her weekend reading them, engrossed, unable to put down the car crash of his life. Hoping for the happy ending that would come but knowing it potentially wouldn't. However totally appreciative that Charles had done this for her, had finally let her in.
Just like she had wanted him too
He had trusted her, and proved himself, and so she sent him a text; a simple plain text, just letting him know that she had read his diaries. Letting him know that she had listen to the words he had poured out. Letting him know that she still was there if he ever wanted to talk.
And then she waited, and then she waited some more. She waited days and days. She started to doubt whether or not the text had actually been received by him, she started to doubt if she'd ever hear from him again, or whether her abrupt curt manner the last time she saw him might have been too much for him to recover from. And so, she stopped hoping and by the time the following weekend came she stopped looking at her phone every five minutes.
She threw herself down into the comfort of the chair and flicked on the television, unsure whether she wanted to watch it or not. She couldn't settle. The ringing of the doorbell annoyed her but gave her something to do.
"You read them...read them all?" The words rushed out of him before she had completely opened the door. He didn't give her a chance to say anything.
She stood there staring, unsure whether or not she was happy to see him or scared at what seeing him meant. He looked terrified, fully appreciating that this was his last chance with her.
"Yes." She nodded quietly and biting her lip looked up at him. "Thank you for sharing." Her heart melting at seeing him so opened and finally vulnerable to her.
He took a step forward. He'd thrown off the fear he had. He knew his life needed to be moved forward with courage, and he only could have that strength if she was by his side. So, he stepped forward, grabbed her and pulled her into his arms.
She crashed into his chest and he breathed in the scent of her hair which was familiar and never forgotten. He smiled as he felt her arms snake around his waist and crushed him tighter into their hug.
"I'm so sorry Molly. So so very sorry."
She didn't move just rested her head on his chest and murmured into his shirt.
"I know you are Charles." She squeezed him tighter. "I know you are."
"I don't want to do this alone. I don't want to be without you. Is there any way you can...?"
"Yes." She said automatically, without needing to think about is, without allowing him to finish his sentence. "Yes we need to do this together. That's what went wrong last time. We didn't, but we will now."
"I still love you Molly, I never stopped loving you." Charles placed a soft kiss on her head and with one of his feet reach round and slammed the front door behind them. Shutting the cold outside world off from them.
They didn't move from the hallway for a long time, they just held each other and embraced her forgiveness and their commitment to move forward together.
Suddenly the world wasn't ending, but maybe, just maybe starting over again.