Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Lessons Learnt

Chapter 9

Molly ran to her tent that she shared with the other SF lads. They had a basic agreement that each member would have twenty minutes alone time each week in the sleeping tent. To use this period of privacy in whatever way they wished. Most of the time Molly didn't want to know the answer as to how they used it, she just knew she used hers to Skype Charles. Tonight though she was cutting it fine, thanks to Elvis needing to double check some medical status about one of his team before the op tomorrow. She speeded up her run to make sure she was there in time.

Her time out in Central Africa had been grim; to be fair it had been for every one of the team. Rotten living conditions, food, shit weather and very little activity. Being in SF meant sudden unplanned periods of tremendous activity, very intense and demanding, followed by numerous days of just doing mind numbing bugger all. Molly couldn't even offer her service to other sections out there. They were meant to keep themselves to themselves and be prepared at all times to move. Not something she could do if she had to work a shift in one of the med centres. Thankfully though she got on well with the rest of the team, making some downtime fun, and, the work they were employed in saw them all with frequent opportunities to get injured, that's where Molly came in. Professionally she guessed she was loving it. Taxed in a way mentally and physically she had never experienced before. Emotionally she hate it. Pining for a man, that she wouldn't see for many more weeks.

She arrived at her tent, even sweatier than normal due to her activity, but on time. Scrambling across her bed, grabbing her tablet and turning it on. Praying the connection would be good. Then she waited. Waited until Charles called.

The day she had said goodbye to him at camp would be one of those memories that she would hold on to for all of her life. When he had spoken, told her that he loved her, she was floored. Not because that wasn't how she felt, but because such a beautiful moment was to be followed up by such a long absence. Time apart, loneliness, sadness.

She was unable to speak, unable to respond. Her eyes just filled with tears, numbed by Charles' beautiful admission. Then it was too late. Orders were to move on to the coach ASAP. Blindly Molly kissed Charles and moved forward to the que. Completing all the necessary checks on auto pilot before stepping inside the coach and finding a seat by herself. Staring out the window, watching Charles question her with every second that went by, with every second she didn't say something back to him. Then it was too late she had gone, and the memory of his sadness her constant companion throughout her journey.

It was not what Charles expected. The first time he had truly told a woman he loved her, and he was met with silence. This huge admission of his feelings, and Molly didn't reciprocate his words. He felt foolish and concerned. Hoping at the last moment that she would return to his side and confess her love for him too. But she didn't. He walked away having watched the bus disappear deflated. It had taken all his courage to tell her, worried about timing and feelings not being matched. Now he felt abandoned in her stillness.

It was with huge relief therefore when Molly called his phone hours later. He'd been sitting on his bed, running his hands through his head. Berating himself over his admission. When she called she was quite, and nervous. Admitting she was hiding in the toilets at Brize, so she could have some privacy to confess her love for Charles. She loved him too.

The tablet beeped to life indicating Charles was Skyping.

"Hey you." She answered. Waiting for the inevitable delay in his gorgeous face hitting the screen. When it did her smile widened, and was a difficult one to remove for hours afterwards. The joy that image gave her was immeasurable; delighted in knowing the next 20 minutes of her life were going to be perfect.

"Hey yourself. How's it going?" He asked.

"Good, really good. Can't say more than that though I'm afraid." She would never admit to Charles just how bad it was, even if she could. She knew he worried about her, and he struggled with her being there.

"That's ok. I understand." Charles would never admit that he didn't understand and hated ever minute she was away.

"God I miss you Charles." Molly always felt shy initially in their conversations, always double checking that she was truly alone in the tent. Once she was sure she continued. "I mean, really missing you. You know….as in….missing….you!" She giggled, knowing he'd understand.

"Is that right Miss Dawes. Good to know. We're half way there Molly. Then you'll be home and you can show me just how much you've missed me." The thought of making up for lost time was almost too delicious for them both to contemplate and still function in this conversation.

"Too bloody right I will. What about you. You missing me?"

"Christ Molly. More than I thought humanly possible. It's like an illness. Please don't make me do this again in a hurry. Bits might start dropping off!"

She giggled in a way Charles loved. Then seriously she said;

"I won't. Charles…I love you."

"I love you too Molly, and love that you tell me that. Love to hear it Love that I can tell you that, write you that, text you that. I just love everything about loving you Molly…apart from being miles apart from you."

Both sighed, absence made the heart grow fonder, but they also discovered it also made it ache, and allowed desire to almost consume you.

They spent the next twenty minutes trying to hold a conversation about Charles' world. Molly having little to add, as everything happening in her world was taboo. But more importantly they spent most of those twenty minute seeing each other, memorising each other's mannerisms and habits, and remembering that this enforced separation would not always be. Holding onto these memories of sound and vision, and storing them up to tide them over until next week's talk.

When the time came for them to end the call Molly felt her reserve, that stiff upper lip she had been taught, go. Years of habit, holding her emotions in seemed to be broken when it came to her feelings for Charles. She mourned his absence.

Out of habit and respect for their medic the lads always chose, after Molly's private time, to keep out of the tent for another half an hour or more. For this Molly was grateful, and she used the time generally to sob into her pillow. To off load all the longing and sadness she had in her. Using this time cathartically, so she was once again a soldier in the British Army when the out pouring had been done.

Charles however, following their weekly chats, used his time more constructively. That was the time he started to pen his beautiful long love letters to Molly. When her face and voice were fresh in his mind and heart. He knew, because she had said, the lads took the piss out of her very regular letters from Charles, but she also told him never to stop, they meant more to her than the chocolate he sent out in her comfort packs. He filled page after page of the blue paper with lines of love, wanting and hope. Filling her lonely world up with sunshine each time she read them. His skills as a literary scholar shining through each stroke of the pen.

Her letters, though, she felt were never as good. Not such as a dedicated writer, due to time and practice. But she tried, really tried. Charles found them perfect, short, but perfect. Neither of them had ever received love letters before, so the novelty was one thing, but the sentiment they each brought was immeasurable. Both kept these letters safe, very safe, chronologically stored them, and re read them frequently as possible. These were two young people who were in the early stages of a beautiful love story.

It was during one of Charles' famous love letters that he happened to mention that Georgie had called around to his house one night. Visibly upset. She said that Elvis wasn't writing to her, and had asked if Molly was. He had tried to explain that Elvis was the boss and often busy, or at least that what he thought. All reasonable so far Molly thought as she read it, but the letter read on to say that Charles, who didn't really have a good word to say about Georgie usually, wrote that he was going to meet up with her one night for company. He mentioned that they were both pretty lonely so it made sense. Molly trusted Charles, but started to feel a bit more than concerned at her boyfriend and best mate meeting up without her as the common factor. She mentioned it casually to Elvis, who shrugged it off. Apparently it was something Charlie Boy had often done before for Elvis with one of his ladies, looking after her for his mate. With information like this Molly was slightly appeased.

It was several weeks later though that she got concerned. It was their usual Skype time and Charles didn't call. She was worried. Until she got a cryptic text from Charles saying he'd got himself a bit tied up and would Skype tomorrow if he could, to explain all. Molly started to panic, curious, concerned, and worried; and went running over to see Elvis.

"Boss you heard anything from Georgie?"

"Oh not you as well. I do nothing but hear from her. She texts every day and tries to call too. She doesn't leave me alone!"

"No. I mean you heard anything from her tonight?"

"No actually. Tonight's a night off. She told me she was off out with some of her mates. Was going to sleep over at theirs. So wouldn't contact me till tomorrow. Why?"

"Nothing." She said and started to walk out the door. Just then Elvis piped up, not really caring what Molly's problem was. He had bigger things to worry about. " Get some sleep Dawes. We're out of her tomorrow at first light."

When first light came Molly was ready and eager to go. She had slept little, worried about Charles a lot, a thousand explanations running through her head, some good, some not so good. She'd seen Georgie several times before go after other friends men, it was not a pretty sight and she always came out victorious. Molly doubted that if Georgie had set her sights on Charles, this gentle, trusting, kind man would be almost powerless to resist. Drawn in to her web, before he knew what was happening, like so many others. But, she reasoned, her and Georgie were best mates, surely she wouldn't do that to her, would she?

Molly's worries continued because due to the SF operation all external communications with the camp were severed. No calls or text coming in or going out of the camp. Unless official ones. She therefore couldn't even text Charles to let him know she'd be ex comms for several days, or receive his explanation of why he couldn't Skype her the other night. This was the life she had chosen, to serve, only this time it was so bloody hard to do with all her worries about Charles. Still her professionalism came into play as she put personal issues neatly in a mental box, and became the soldier she was trained to be. There were too many folks who depended on her being on her game for her to mess this up with pointless worries and emotions.

The mission was awful. Basically it went tits up from the word go. Elvis was furious. The boys royally pissed off. Everyone shouting at everyone when they got back to camp after three days away, living on little rations and next to no sleep. Molly was the only one who received a modicum of praise. A couple of the team had received injures in the line of duty and Molly dealt with them quickly and successfully. The de brief in camp was hard to take. As soon as they arrived back to camp, they were marched into the ops tent, they didn't even have time to put their Bergens down. The rollicking began immediately. They had failed, been compromised, and potentially had been exposed. It would take days if not weeks to determine if they could continue on their mission. Plus two of the SF lad's injuries were so bad they were having to be flown back to the UK for treatment.

When Molly did eventually get to her phone, pleased comms had been restored; she saw numerous messages from Charles. Each one getting more and more anxious about her lack of contact, though still not explaining why he had failed to Skype. Cryptically leaving messages that he had something to tell her. Panicked she tried repeatedly calling him. Eventually getting through.

"Hi…God Molly where you been?" Charles gushed down the phone, trying to rein his fear and pain in.

"Could ask you the same thing mate." She said, knowing she sounded defensive. Using the word mate in her sentences was always a sure sign her barriers were up.

" I've been trying to get hold of you for days. Listen I need to tell you something."

"Yeah. Guess you do mate. Go on then."

Charles was totally confused. He'd been so worried about her. She had just dropped out of his life for a few days with no reason, yet she was the one sounding pissed at him.

"Listen, the other night when I didn't Skype, something happened. I need to tell you ."

Oh God, thought Molly she closed her eyes tightly. Were her worse fears about to be realised? She was concentrating so hard on what he was going to say that she didn't really listen to what he was saying.

"…..basically, it ended in a major fall down the stairs… and I've broken my foot badly in two places. Spent hours in A & E. Have to wear this enormous boot for the next four weeks or so….I'm home now, but it fucking hurts."

"What? Say that again Charles." She demanded.

"I fell down the stairs the other night…broke my foot. Didn't want to worry you until it was all sorted…thought they might have to operate on it….then you dropped off the face of the world…..this is the first chance I've had to tell you."

"Oh my God Charles are you ok?"

"No. it bloody hurts, bruised to buggery too… and the moon boot makes it bloody difficult to move about with. I'm pretty doped up. On some serious pain killers. Not really compus mentus half the time." He moaned to her, sounding pathetic but so wishing she was there for him.

"Who's looking after you then? Your parents?" She prayed it wasn't Georgie, though now she was feeling super foolish that she had ever doubted Charles.

"No worst luck, they are away. Elvis' Mum is popping in at the end of the week. I'll be fine until then. As long as I don't need to eat, or move or get washed." He laughed; he was pretty useless at the mo. He'd be the first to admit it. "Some help any help would be good."

They talked for a good ten minutes of more before Molly could tell the pain meds were kicking in and Charles needed his sleep. His speech was becoming slurred and she was unsure if Charles would even remember this call when he woke.

"I love you Charles. I'll try to call tomorrow." She tenderly ended the call, her heart breaking at not being there to help him.

As soon as she ended the call with Charles she ran to find Elvis. The boss still was in a foul mood. She told him all about Charles and he half-heartedly listened. Giving Molly far more time than he would at the moment to the rest of his team, only because she had news about his best mate.

"Interesting as this is Dawes. What the fuck has it go to do with me?"

Bravely she spoke. "The two lads that need to get UK side. They are going to need a medic to go with them, in my opinion. Let that be me boss. 48hours leave that's all I'm asking. You said yourself it will take days before we can go back out there! Please boss. I'll be back before you can miss me."

For an easy life Elvis eventually agreed, after several more hours of Molly repeatedly pleading her case. He wouldn't have normally but this was his mate she was talking about helping. He couldn't be there for him, so she was the next best thing. And so 48 hours later Molly found herself standing in front of Charles' front door once again. She hadn't been able to get a message out to let him know she was coming. She was so excited to see the surprise on his face.

She used the key he had given her to let herself in, appalled at the state of the place. Her poor love, she thought, he must be struggling. She was surprised though, not only were there lots of take away carton littered about the place but several empty bottles of wine and beer. She would have thought that drinking on his pain meds was a big no no. Not finding him downstairs she ran up the stairs excitably calling his name, knowing he'd be in his room. She hesitated briefly before she pushed open his bedroom door, trying to control all her emotion, fearful they would spill out and spoil the moment.

As she pushed open the door to his room, she stood transfixed.

There was her Charles lying in a deep sleep on the bed, the sheet tangled around his half naked body. Barely conscious, looking drawn and in pain .

But that wasn't what made her freeze, made her mind scream at the injustice of it all.

It was the sight of her friend, Georgie….Elvis' girlfriend, lying next to Charles in their bed, half dressed, and snuggling into their pillows, fast asleep.