Waking up
Chapter 11
Panic. Total and utter panic.
That's what Molly was feeling.
It had been building up and building up over the past couple of days, but now the day of reckoning had arrived, and so had the feeling of complete and utter panic.
She knew the signs. In her job she had seen many a sight, attended many a situation, that would have turned people to panic. But this was different. Not since the early days of her career had she felt this degree of panic that she was now experiencing. A sense of feeling unsure and out of her depth.
She knew it was irrational. So she said nothing. She couldn't. She wouldn't so that to them.
The sensible side of Molly knew that he expected nothing more from her than what she had already given, yet still she was panicked.
Today was the day. Something she had looked forward to and dreaded all at the same time. A day she had counted down to and prepared for.
He was going to arrive early. He had told her several times, and it was what she had expected. He had it all planned. He wanted her to be ready, and so as best as she could be, she was.
She knew he was excited about it the moment he arrived. The quickness and lightness to his step. The hug he pulled her into immediately he saw her, and the look on his face said it all. He had prepared for this day too. The seats of his car were flattened all ready to take the boxes. The boxes that held the last bits of her life, that were finally going to be moved from her room into his, now to be their house, permanently.
Today was the day that they were going to finally move in together. The day it all became official. This meant she finally had to accept she was in a grown up, committed relationship, and secretly she knew it felt good.
They had discussed it and very quickly came to the decision that it was right for them. That it was their next step. And so she had nervously told her parents, explained it all, and they had just accepted it, making no real comment at all.
They then had hesitatingly told his parents, hoped for a different reaction, and that was what they received. It was obvious from the first conversation that his parents had been quite delighted with the news. That they made no secret about them seeing it as another step to him making Molly permanent in his life.
They then told Sam, and in the usual way a child takes this news he merely accepted it, then returned back to watching the cartoons that were playing in front of him on the TV. His only question was did he have to share a room with Molly too. The relief felt by them both at his simple acceptance made them happier and more determined to move ahead with their plans.
To say she was nervous though was an understatement. Since leaving home she had very quickly gotten used to having a degree of privacy. Accepted that she had her own space. That she had drawers where she could keep a secret in, or where she simply had a place to retreat to when things were just getting a little bit too much.
Yet now she was leaving her mini sanctum, and was moving in with Charles, and she wondered whether or not that would all be taken away.
It needed to be right. This mattered. This time together. This sharing, really matted. She loved him. She wanted him to keep on loving her, even her guilty secrets and pleasures. So she was determined from the word go she was going to commit and try to make it work.
"Are you ready?" He asked, "that's the last one."
She looked around her now empty room. Somewhere she had made her own and now it was just an anonymous room like the first time she had seen it.
"I guess" she said.
"Don't sound too enthusiastic there Dawes will you." He picked up the last of the bin bags. There was no fancy luggage for Molly. Black bin bags did her.
"Sorry….no I am… it's just I guess…." She looked at his face, and saw the warning look across it. She knew that look all too well by now. She had to stop. For all their sakes. He had told her this so many times. She needed to be braver. She needed to have more confidence in her decision, and in his ability to love her.
So she stopped herself. She had been going to say something along the lines that she was needing to check that he was okay still with her moving in. She was going to say something along the lines that she quite understood if he had changed his mind…. yet she didn't. She knew he was certain, and so therefore so was she.
"Yeah I am sure; just can't believe that I have to move in with somebody who is such a tosser. Had my mind set on the first man I moved in with being something a little bit more special than you." She laughed, knowing he would know she was joking, that he would understand that the slightly harsh comment she had made was to hide her insecurities.
"The first bloke you're moving in with?" He sniggered as he held his arm out and pushed the door open, allowing her to duck underneath and turn to lock her door behind them. He marched down the corridor, his hand comforting as it settled on her back as they moved towards the car. "Hoped I'd be the only bloke you'd move in with, not to mention the last."
She stopped in her tracks and looked up at him. Giving him one of her best smiles.
"Yeah I hope so too." She felt strangely emotional saying that to him. Knowing that this potentially was the first step of their lives together. "I mean that is if I can put up with you and all your shit," she joked.
He didn't have time to respond. By that stage they'd reach the guardhouse as she handed over the keys with an almost embarrassed smile as the Duty clocked who was standing behind her.
Charles noticed this too and politely moved off telling her he'd meet her in the car. She need to do this alone he figured. Her pride was at stake. It never bothered him though, the difference in their ranks, but sometimes it did her. It was irrational though as it had never caused a problem, there was no reason why it should. She did her job, and he did his; it was as simple as that.
"So you're finally leaving us then Dawsey?" Her colleague asked as he went through the sign out paper work. "Found someone willing to put up with you eh?"
"Yeah. You cheeky bugger" she handed the forms back to him. "Reckon you'll miss me?"
Her fellow soldier just smiled and shook his head. "No. Hope he can put with you."
"Reckon he will," she picked up her copy of the paper work and left the small office, "reckon he will," were her last words before she left.
It wasn't too long before she stepped into the passenger side of his car.
"You ready to do this?" She nodded at him with a fixed smile on her face. The nerves were still there but the excitement was now starting to take over.
"Definitely," and she reached across and grabbed onto his leg, using it as a fulcrum, as she pulled herself forward and kissed him soundly on the lips. "Let's do this Bossman."
She held close, as she sat in his car, the last box she had personally carried out of her room. Knowing when she packed it that that was the box that would probably sit on her knee during the drive. Knowing that it was definitely the box that she would herself unpack. She understood that he would want to help put her stuff away, help organise their new life together, but this was one box she was holding onto.
It wasn't as though it held any dirty secrets. It was just her box. The box that had the not to sparkling white underwear in. The box that held leggings and T-shirts that were a little bit grubby, a little bit threadbare but made her feel safe and grounded. The box that held all the love letters he'd ever written to her, and held all of the little bits of memorabilia of their life so far together. Stuff she was fairly certain he would see as pointless and taking up too much space in their lives, but stuff she never wanted to get rid of.
A dirty beer mat where he had doodled their names on with a love heart when he was messing about one night during a pub quiz. The receipt from some sexy lingerie he had bought her, his face bright red as he handed over the bag, uncertain he explained with an apology that the receipt was in the bag if she needed to change it. She never did, but the fact that he'd included the receipt and the fact that he'd spent so much on her, made her feel so happy and therefore it was a paper memory that she wished to keep.
There was even the train ticket in there from the first date with Charles. That date where she had taken a huge step outside of her
comfort zone only to be rewarded with the love and pleasure of Charles. So this was a box, as it bumped along on her knee, that held her secrets. A box perhaps she wasn't ready to share with Charles, not just yet, if ever.
The car journey was silent and peaceful. Both content, and curious to know what lay ahead for them both in their new adventure. Yet despite not wanting to share that box as the miles were eaten away and they got closer to his house, her new home, she knew with absolute certainty that she wanted to share her life with him.
She threw the worn kit bag down on the hallway floor. Part through anger, part through complete and utter exhaustion. All niceties had been forgotten as she kicked off her sandals. Then immediately bent down and tidied them away, just as he would like it, and picked up the kit bag, placing it out of the way. She stood casting an eye over her entrance to make sure it wasn't messy anymore. Making sure it would meet his approval.
Her moving in day with Charles was now a distant memory. They had been living with one another for several months. Had developed their own routine and rhythm around one another. She had tried so hard to fit in with his life and adopt his habits.
The commute for him was not as long as the commute for her, and so she always arrived home later than him, and always seems to arrive home in a bad mood and more tired than him.
It hadn't been the best day at work for her either. Today they had done training. Some battle field simulation and it was all too real and all too fresh. The main casualty she'd had to deal with had a significant abdominal bullet wound and was bleeding out. She managed to hide the panic she felt, and ignored the metallic taste that kept reappearing in her mouth as she was being assessed, hating every minute of it. Knowing she was being even more so than usual closely observed. The casualty was some actor, somebody that she completely accepted wasn't real, but her thoughts could not stop her from remembering Charles every time she closed her eyes. Every single step she did she thought of Charles, what she did right, and what she could have done so much better. The guilt, the fear was crushing. She knew then, as she did nearly every time she thought about it, how close she had been that day to losing him.
She hated feeling this weak. She hated feeling as though her guilt was never going to go. Always felt it happened because of her. She often saw him first thing in the morning getting out of bed and stretching, and saw the wounds twist and colours as he did so. The abdominal wound, large, ugly and puckered, was completely healed alongside with the leg, and he was to all intents and purpose back to 100% fighting fit; but the muscle memory was still causing him pain. Just as it caused her memory pain. She marvelled though how sometimes at his ability just to forget it all. How he compartmentalised everything, how the physical reminder never seemed to affect him, certainly not on the surface, and certainly not something he ever shared with her. It was something they rarely, if ever, talked about. To him it was in the past. Some nightmare not to be mentioned. She was his future and to him that was all that mattered.
As she entered the kitchen she walked in with a huge sigh. Unsure whether not her bad mood was lifting, and certain that she was not wanting it to impact on her and Charles' evening. She was very mindful that she still felt as though she was a semi guest in his home, and wanted to appear to be on her best behaviour, the best person he'd ever lived with. She felt cautious, even though nothing had every been said by Charles, that she was competing with Rebecca's ghost. And so from the first day she had moved in she had been extra sensitive, extra tidy, and extra cautious.
All thoughts of the bad day though however escaped her mind. A big smile stretched across her face when she was greeted by the image as she entered the kitchen. She was wrong to doubt herself, and she was wrong to doubt them. As soon as he heard her he turned and gave her the smile that said everything to her.
It had been a hot day, and that had only led more to her frustration that she was missing some of the evening sunshine. During her drive home she had imagined that Charles would be sitting outside in their tiny garden drinking a beer and relaxing. However as soon as she entered the kitchen, she forgot it all, for there standing in front of her preparing the evening meal, dressed only in a pair of tight boxer shorts, was her man. Still freshly damp from his post-work shower, he hadn't even bothered to dress. His hips as he moved towards her were swinging in time to the music half humming, half singing the words at her. His curls tight and damp on his head, the smell of the food tantalising, but the smell of her freshly showered man even more so.
She wasn't ashamed to admit it but her tastebuds actually watered as he came close and kissed her lovingly.
"I could get used to this!" she said as she moved across to the speaker and turned the music down. He let out a small chuckle and reached out to grab hold of her pulling her back into his chest and crushing her in a hug.
"I hope you do" he said as he gave a kiss to her head. As he held her he noticed the tension in her shoulders. "Tough day?"
She pulled herself back and rested her hands on his bare chest slowly trailing one finger down to the elastic of his boxer shorts. Loving how he shivered and chuckled all at the same time. Her intent quite obvious and his response very welcome.
"A bit shit" she said, "but this" she pressed one kiss just above his left nipple, "coming home to this", she pressed another kiss just above his right nipple, "makes it all worth it."
He loved how his body instantly responded to hers. He loved looking at the playful gleam in her eyes. He loved that since she had moved in their sex life was even better than before. It was more spontaneous, and more relaxed. He reached around to turn the stove off and then once he'd finished that task he moved slowly to undo the top button of the thin blouse she was wearing.
"I could always make it better?" he said as he dipped his head and nuzzled his lips into the soft spot on her neck that he knew she enjoyed.
She helped to shrug the blouse from her shoulders. Almost too thrilled to speak for a moment but then she found a voice.
"Reckon you could" she said as she moved her head up to capture his lips, desperate to show him just how happy she was to be home.
Instantly he held onto her tightly, with the other arm he quickly undid the buttons of the shorts she was wearing and help push them down her body. He chuckled into the kiss as he noticed that her hand was simply doing the same to his boxes. Not that he needed any encouragement but he then took the elastic of her knickers and push them down as well.
"Hope you're not too tired?" he growled as his hands moved and captured both her breasts. Rubbing his fingers delicately across her nipples. Enjoying how she half backed away and half moved her body back into his.
"No. Not that tired" she said.
His hands move from her breasts trailed down her body and reach behind her buttocks. Taking the full weight of them in his hands he lifted her naked tiny aroused body and lifted it onto his own as he then walked over towards the kitchen table. It was only then she noticed that the back door was wide open and the sound of other neighbours in the street barbecuing and enjoying the last of the sun filtered through the open windows.
"Charles." She cautioned him as he rested her on the table and lowering her down began kissing her body from collar bone to navel. "They might gonna here us in the street."
He didn't stop his kisses. Inching south below her tummy button, she didn't want him to and therefore just accepted his muffled.
"I guess you're just gonna have to be quiet then aren't you?"
It wasn't very fair she thought moments later. His tongue and his mouth were engaged in giving her pleasure. She was the one who had to bite her tongue and stuff a fist in to her mouth to keep herself from crying out as the waves of pleasure rolled over her body as he licked his tongue lovingly over her. Erasing all the tension, all the doubt, all the shit of the day away from her body. Just making her very happy, so very pleased to be home and completely and utterly loved. Her body could do nothing more that enjoy his ministrations as she lay there spread out on their kitchen table.
He brought her to the pinnacle and try as she did she was fairly certain that the neighbours heard something. Hoping that the sound systems that were playing outside, the chatter of her neighbours in the street may have drowned out and taken some of the sounds away. Yet she wasn't really bothered. He had given her exactly what she needed; without her knowing that was what she needed.
"Charles" she said as he moved up to her body and started to kiss her face. "That was just what I needed."
He chuckled in the wicked way he always did. His tongue sticking out in between his teeth as he felt childish delight at being able to make her so happy, being able to make her forget.
"Well I hope that's made up for the day you've had."
She smiled at him.
"It did. Thank. So pleased to be finally home." She answered.
"Home," he said. He pulled back and looked at her intently. A shift to the contented smoulder his face moments ago had held. "It's good to hear you call it that."
She pulled away and looked at him. "What do you mean? Course it's me home!" Then she doubted herself, "isn't it?"
"It is" he said as he stepped back pulling his boxer shorts back up; somehow in the urgency to be together he hadn't even managed to kick them off, only push them halfway down his legs. "It's just I sometimes don't think you see it that way."
She struggled into her clothing, knowing there would be no more loving for now. Noting how his desire for her had started to soften, even though he'd recieved no relief. That wasn't what she had hoped would be happening. She felt the unfairness of it all. Yet she was unsure just how things had shifted, unsure as to why, just knowing that they had. He had something to say, he wanted to talk so much he was willing to go wanting.
"What do you mean?" She felt ashamed. Knowing she'd been walking on eggshells for the past several weeks but hoped that Charles had not noticed.
He had. Now it was obvious.
"It's just you being so careful," he said giving her a kiss on the head in an attempt to keep it light. "I know you Molly you're capable of many things, but picking your clothes up off the bedroom floor, washing your breakfast dishes before work, hanging wet towels up after you've used them though aren't some of them. Yet for the past couple of weeks there hasn't even been a headband out of place. You've been acting like a perfect guest."
She stared wide eyed at him unsure where to take this. And so he continued.
"This is your home Molly. This is our home. Half of it is yours, half of it is mine. You have to put up with my shit; I'll put it with yours."
"That's just it," she said, "you don't have any. You're bleeding perfect."
He laughed out and brushed the wild hair from her eyes. "Don't think I am. Just relax. This is where you live now. I want you to be happy."
"I am happy" she said, then with more certainty, "really Charles I am."
Now she was fully clothed and he was only half convinced he turned back to his cooking.
"I am" she said weakly.
"Just be yourself," he said "you Molly Dawes warts and all, that's who I fell in love with. The messy you and the brilliant you."
"Yeah?"
"Yes." He replied.
She bit her lip, knowing she'd try from here on in to be less than perfect.
She moved over to stand next to him as he chopped a carrot, pinching the odd one now and then.
"Saw Elvis today." She quickly knew that a changed subject was needed. She didn't want this to become a thing between them. He had said what he needed to say, and she had listened. "He seems really loved up with this new girl." She pinched another chopped piece of raw veg.
"Yeah?" He mockingly slapped her hand to stop her thieving. "She's is a medic too isn't she?" He briefly looked at her. "Don't think I've known him to be this serious about a girl before."
Molly only nodded and thought about what Charles said this being her home. Their home. She pulled herself up onto the kitchen work too, and continued.
"We should have them over." The words tumbled out of mouth before she could stop them.
He turned around and looked at her over his shoulder.
"What you mean like a dinner party?" They had done little socialising, if any, since she had moved in.
She groaned. That was too ambitious for her simple taste.
"I was thinking more like inviting them round for a bite of tea." She added hopefully.
"Ok. Seems like a good idea."
"Yeah it does doesn't it." Molly felt briefly happy. "Her name is Georgie. Georgie Lane by the way. She's meant to be gorgeous." Molly added. "And meant to be a fantastic medic. Everybody raves about her."
Charles secretly smiled even though his back was still turned away from Molly he recognised the green eyed monster in her.
"I mean if anyone was ever given the choice apparently….." Molly began in a slightly childish voice, "if anybody wants a medic for their detail, apparently she is the first name on the list."
He couldn't stand it anymore he turned around and laughed. Playfully pointing the knife he held at her.
"Are you jealous of her Molly?" He asked from his side of the kitchen.
"No. Don't even know her." She snapped out because she didn't see the humour of it all. "Well just maybe a little." She admitted as instantly she knew he knew she was.
"Do you like being known as the top medic? "He questioned. He knew she had a gold star reputation in her field.
"Well yes; doesn't everybody like being the best."
He placed the life down, wiping his hands and slowly walked over to her and placed one hand under her chin so she was looking at him directly.
"You Molly Dawes are the best medic. Everyone knows that. Well at least I do." He watched the small smirk on her face. "Tell you what. I'll make a deal with you. If she ever saves my life. Then maybe, just maybe I'll rate her as a good medic. But she'll never be my Molly, and she will never be the best medic I know and love."
"Really?" She beamed back at him.
"Really." He replied happily as the grin on her face now lit up the room. And he meant it too. No one would ever come close to his Molly.