Step by Step
Chapter 5
"For God's sake Fingers can't you do anything right?" He bent over him as tried to help him stand. Ignoring the pain to his own leg.
"Sorry Boss." He replied. "Didn't see you."
"Apparently. Or the fucking corner." Charles replied heavily sitting back down on the floor. The dull ache to his leg steadily increasing. Looking at the over turned vehicle that still buzzed happily along. Assessing the enormity of the fuck up that had just happened.
This day couldn't get any worse he thought. He sat and watched the blue tinge over Fingers' right eye developing, knowing their collision with each other was only going to end one way. A trip to the med centre and lots of questions asked.
"Who told you could drive that thing anyway?" Charles demanded. Knowing it certainly hadn't been him.
It was unbelievable. They had been UK side now for an hour at tops. Returning home after six months of incident free, dusty, hot, hell in Afghanistan, and within a gnat's breath of arriving back in the UK Fingers had pulled a stunt like this. It was not the start to his leave, or the end of his tour he'd quite imagined.
Charles had just spent the last six months with 2 section. Hard work. Thankless and repetitive at times but made just about tolerable as he loved his job and secretly enjoyed their company. To an extent, though he'd never admit it to them. The past 48hrs of travelling with this sometime, juvenile bunch however, at times, had sorely tested him.
Foolishly as he had stepped onto the tarmac at Brize he was planning his escape, breathing a sigh of relief that they had all returned safe and sound. There were, he knew a few jobs left to do, before leave started, and then he'd be free. Everyone pulled their weight. Desperate to get the jobs done. There was still kit and equipment to unload, then the dreams of home, a shower and normality once again for them all beckoned.
The final tasks almost done. It had all been going so well. That was until some idiot in their wisdom had allowed Fingers to drive the mini truck to help with the unloading. Too distracted, and in too much of a hurry he'd turned the corner too fast and tipped the bloody thing.
Sending him flying across the road, and its freed cargo crashing into Charles, as it skidded across the tarmac, knocking him of his feet.
The noise, the mess they where they were in, he knew would attract attention and help soon, the medics would be on their way. So, they did little to rectify the problem and both men slumped down to wait.
Fingers had the good grace to stay quiet. Knowing his Boss was royally pissed off with him. He'd tried to keep his head down, out of trouble but sometimes trouble just found Fingers. Just like it had today!
Quickly the medics arrived and assessed them. They were both taken into the med centre for a full check-up, which irritated Charles immensely. This incident interfered with all his plans. He still had jobs to do, plus he was fairly certain he was going to miss the transport back to their barracks, now his full-time home.
Usually he was free, with plenty of time on his hands, however this weekend, his first weekend home was going to be different. It was this very weekend where this interruption, change of plan, was going to be a huge inconvenience because for once he actually had plans. He was meeting someone he didn't want to let down, because she had been let down enough over the years, and she didn't deserve to be hurt anymore.
He was more surprised than he let on when she contacted him, when she had taken the first step. His interest though he had to admit piqued when she did.
That all important mail drop that soldiers looked forward to when on tour, brought her letter to him nearly four months in. He'd been surprised because the last time he'd seen her was when he broke her heart under Elvis' instructions. He would have guessed he was one of the last people she'd want to see, write to... well apart from Elvis!
Yet her letter was friendly, almost happy. It was a good read. Telling him of her news and asking about his. Chatty. That's how Charles would have described her letters. It surprised him too how friendly she actually was, as he'd only really met her a hand full of times, before that awful day, all with Elvis present. All their jobs taking the three of them off in different directions, so the get togethers as a group were fairly rare. Still, here she was making contact with him, and Charles in his boredom at nights found himself eventually replying to her. He had few people write to him, and few people to write to so he relished the activity.
They only wrote one or two letters each, but it was enough for Charles to feel comfortable about her. That the past was the past. He found that he strangely became excited at the anticipation of a letter from her. A huge grin spreading across his sun dyed face when she did reply. And so, in one letter he bravely suggested that when he next got home on leave, they might meet up for a drink. In all honesty he hadn't expected this beautiful, heartbroken girl to agree, but she did and plans were made. It was something he was looking forward too very much.
That is, he was enjoying having plans, and enjoying looking forward to fulfilling them, until Fingers and his Sterling Moss impression totally messed them up.
His life since the divorce hadn't been a happy one. He still saw Sam thankfully, but it was hard and not as often or relaxed as he wished. He'd taken tours back to back, as a means of escape after the divorce, and now was suffering from missing a closeness with his son. Had lost a connection with his young son, and he knew he had to do something about it on his return.
This tour, finally opened his eyes to the car crash his life had become, and the anger he still held onto regarding past events. Only fully realising what he had, a son who he still had the chance to know, when he compared it against Elvis' life.
Elvis, the friend who Charles, initially after the wedding found hard to forgive. Disgusted with Elvis' actions, or lack of them on that day. Yet he did forgive, and much quicker than he actually thought he would. Being a friend, accepting an invitation to meet up for a drink months later, and siting patiently listening to the reasons why, the agony of the decision Elvis felt he had to make on the day causing his anger to be quickly replaced by his pity.
These two friends therefore kept sporadically in touch, as before, and once, as Elvis dropped into his world, en route to a mission, Charles had briefly consider telling him about being in touch with Georgie again. Yet for some reason he didn't. Unsure just whom he was protecting in the friendship.
"So, what's the verdict?" He sternly asked the attending medic.
"You'll live. Just bruising to your leg, foot and ribs." He looked at Charles as he slipped his exam gloves off. "You were lucky. You can go once I've got the paper work sorted." And then he left.
"So, Fingers you muppet? What about you?" Charles raised his voice over the thin material curtain that was expected to give privacy as well as having a soundproof ability! It didn't and of course Charles had heard every word the medics had said to Fingers just before he'd delivered his verdict to Charles.
"I'm good Boss." Fingers slipped gingerly off the exam couch and pulled back the curtain. "Sprained ankle, deep muscle bruise to leg, and probably a shiner or two tomorrow."
Charles merely nodded. Not too happy to chat. New plans had to be made now he wasn't being admitted with a broken leg!
He'd been told by a very scared young Private that the planned transport to barracks, with the rest of 2 section, had left without them. Charles couldn't contain his anger, which only increased as the timid Private continued that they were to be offered an overnight stay in a cheap hotel, courtesy of the Army, while waiting for transport tomorrow, or to make their own way home. Therefore, to Charles was little choice. After months on tour a night in a cheap hotel not too appealing, not when he'd made other more entertaining plans. Plans now he'd been medically cleared he very much wanted to keep.
"So, Boss?" Fingers asked cautiously watching his CO's stern look as he was lost in thought. "You heading back to barracks?"
"Err. No. Actually no." Charles had made up his mind. He was going to keep his date with Georgie. He was going to catch the train, check into the Victory Service Club, clean up and then meet up with Georgie. Do something normal. Away from the cockwombles company he'd been sharing for the past six months.
"No? Where you off to then." Fingers cheekily asked. Then catching Charles' looks felt certain he may have pushed his Boss too far with that question.
"Not that it is any of your fucking business Fingers, but London. Off to see a friend." Charles stood and picked up his kit. "You?"
"Heading to London too. Sir." He replied. "Off to see an old mate. Surprise like. Haven't seen them for months."
Charles weakly smiled. Feeling almost sorry for Finger's friend, and for himself. He knew what was coming next.
"We could travel together and that Boss." Fingers suggested happily.
Charles groaned, out loud, muttering under his breath.
"For fucks sake!" And walked off.
They shared the taxi to the train station, and once on the train, in Charles' eyes, unfortunately they found two seats together on the train. So, travelled up to London very much in each other's company. Finger's running a commentary as the train sped along. He listened with a semi polite smile, but after six months of sharing Charles desperately wanted some space, and peace.
Eventually after many long hours they arrived.
"So." Charles said walking towards the taxi rank as they left the station. "Have a good leave." It was a very definite goodbye statement from him.
Fingers stood and had that look. A look Charles had come to dread.
"Spit it out for fuck sake." An increasingly tired Charles said.
"Thing is Boss." Fingers confessed. "I've nowhere to stay like." He looked down at his dusty fatigues. "Plus, can't turn up looking like this can I?"
"Come on." He offered. Knowing he hadn't escaped this Private's company just yet. "Oh, and Fingers." He warned. "Shower, shave, change of clothes. Then you're gone. You're not sharing my bloody room beyond that. Do you understand?"
"Boss." Was his reply, attempting to mask his grin as he matched his CO's step.
Charles was determined that he wouldn't have Fingers' company all night. Besides he was certain Georgie wouldn't be too happy if he turned up with him in tow. Like Charles, 2 section had been there that day, and had witnessed Georgie's humiliation. So, he doubted she needed his company as a further reminder. Tonight, was strangely too important to both of them to fuck it up with memories of the past.
Fingers jumped into the cab Charles had summoned, and off the went as Fingers muttered confidently.
"Won't need to Boss. Stay over like. Doubt she'll be able to resist my charm and that. Who knows might get lucky?" And he chuckled away at the face Charles pulled.
Several hours later both men quit the club. Both showered, shaved and dressing much less like the soldiers they were, and more fitting of a man about town. A strange friendship had emerged as they both had enjoyed the luxury of unlimited hot water. Chatting through the hotel bathroom room walls, while separately washing away the Afghan grim, and preparing for their nights. Their conversations touched on many subjects over a couple of eagerly awaited beers, and they discovered that both where heading in the relatively same direction.
Charles paid the cab as they both got out.
"Have a good night." Fingers shouted as they eventually parted.
Charles watched him go. Confidently. He seems to know his way around that area of London well, and soon he left Charles standing alone. Just as he had wanted to be for so long. Setting off in the direction of Georgie's flat with an odd mix of anticipation and a tinge of guilt about the happiness he felt going to see his best mate's ex girl.
He was unsure at first. His bearings a little off. He'd never been to her flat before, and doubled checked the address she given him. She recently moved in, even though she'd bought it ages ago when her plans were different. A life time ago he thought.
He was nervous, he knew that and wondered why. The beers not settling his nerves as he had hoped. It had been a long time since he'd seen her. The last time though it hadn't left him or her with happy memories. Although she'd been in touch, actually seeing each other after all his time, he feared may still prove to be difficult for them both. But still he felt he owed it to her too try.
It was last minute thing. Something his mother always instilled in him. Good manners she said cost nothing, or in most cases very little. Educating him that he should never to turn up as a guest empty handed. And so, with her mantra in his head, as he passed the supermarket, he ducked in and began his search.
He wandered the aisles for inspiration, not wanting to choose the traditional gift of flowers. Slowly enjoying the solitude, the tranquillity of the process, despite the supermarket being relatively busy. He spent longer than he expected just looking and picking up stuff from the shelves. Six months of not being in a supermarket, six months of not having such a convenience on your door step made this first visit in a long time a novel experience, and he enjoyed the grounding it gave him.
Suddenly he noticed the time. Manners... he could hear his mother say again. It's bad manners to be late. Cursing under his breath he rushed to the flower stall and in a panic grabbed what he thought were the best bunch of the lot. There were slim picking this time on a Saturday night, and he was unsure what she'd like. He felt foolish, and in his embarrassment abruptly turned without looking.
Smack. He was floored again. Unceremoniously on his backside once again.
"I don't believe this." He grumbled. "Twice in one day." And he winced as his bad leg ached even more than it had been.
"Shit. Sorry. You ok?" The beautiful girl who was sat almost underneath him said.
He untangled himself from her as best he could. She was tiny and light, an easy form for this strong soldier to handle.
"Here. Sorry. Yes." He offered her his hand. "My fault. You ok?"
"Yeah. Just me pride I think." And as she stood and brushed herself, she giggled.
He watched her. She obviously worked there. He noticed closer that she was a small, young petite woman, who had beautiful green eyes, and shoulder length brown hair. She seems so familiar to him, but he struggled to place her. Try as he might. Running through each memory she possibly would invoke, but each time drawing a blank. Finding no memory of her anywhere.
"Are you ok?" She watched him closely as he limped to pick up the flowers that too had also gone crashing to the floor. Amused at his reaction to her, almost seeing the struggle he was having to place her.
"Yeah. Just bit of a sore leg. That's all. Second time today I've been clattered into." He smiled.
She noted his cheeky smile, again, and found it hard to resist. Smiling her best smile back at him.
"Do you need to sit down or something?" She asked.
"Nah." He said. "I'll just pay for these and then I'll be on my way."
She was disappointed, and that surprised her, but taking his money, completing the sale she said no more and just watched him turn and limp away.
"Oi. You'll not get a bus at this hour." She shouted at him. "Not from that stand anyway."
Molly's shift had finished. She'd done extra hours and despite half promising to be back home early to meet Georgie's guest, she hadn't been able to leave in time to do that. The money too good, and her interest in yet another of Georgie's male friends not exactly high. So now it was late and she was on her way home when she spotted him waiting at a dis-used bus stop.
His head shot up when he heard her yell at him. He'd been too engrossed texting on his phone.
"What?" He looked at her. Again, wondering where he'd seen her before. Then understanding what she was saying. "Shit. No bloody bus?"
She walked over to him.
"No sorry. You'll have to Uber it mate." She smiled. "If you can get one this late."
"Really." He looks at his watch. "It's not that late?" Then realising it was, went on. "Shit." His time day dreaming and mulling over the past had caused the hours to slip away from him.
It startled him realising the time. Knowing that since leaving the supermarket he hadn't rushed to her flat as arranged, as he though he'd do. Instead he just taken himself off and sat in the closest bus stop and thought. Lots of doubts crossed his mind. Wondering if seeing her again, after all this time was really the right thing to do.
"Look I'd offer you a lift and that but..." She smiled at him. "Don't have a car and don't drive." Then giggled. "I walk everywhere." He found her laugh such a happy sound.
"Thanks." Then looking up from his shoes he turned to her. "Maybe I should offer to walk you home then." He smiled knowing his mother would be proud of his chivalry.
Molly shook her head.
"Nah it's alright mate. I know me way around. Beside with your leg and that I doubt you'll be able to manage."
He looks sadly at his ankle and leg.
"Might make you right."
"Still sore?" She asked as she watch him grimace as he shifted his weight.
"Yeah. Think I need some more painkillers too." He looked at her. "Left them behind didn't I!"
She reached in to her bag and handed him a packet.
"Here. Take these. Keep them." Then produced a new bottle of water and offered that to him too.
"Thanks." He said and he quickly swigged the tablets down.
"No problem mate." She smiled shyly at him. Wanting him to start noticing her, realising her.
"So? No bus." He laughed. "Just my luck."
There was then a pause and he played on his phone.
"You've been away?" She suddenly asked.
"How did you know?"
She considered her reply.
"Err. The tan mate. You're a bit too brown for this time of the year."
"Yeah. In the Army. Afghan. Six months." He replied.
Her heart beat a bit faster at his disclosure. She wanted to ask so many more questions, but didn't. Instead she let him talk.
"First night back." He went on.
"Good was it?" She asked noticing he'd finished ordering his cab on his phone.
He laughed.
"Not exactly. But yeah it was alright."
He was having fun. His first night back not exactly what he had planned but here he was sitting, chatting, quite easily, with a pretty girl. Life was quite good actually. After several shitty months, well years, sitting here with her was very nice indeed.
He realised then that he had made the right decision. That not meeting up with her tonight had been the right thing to do. He'd fired off a text to her as soon as Molly laughed that first time. Knowing that it was that sound that was making him happy and not the thought of seeing her again. The past was the past. The broken heart mended, and they both needed to move on. Beside he knew where his loyalty, his friendship really lay.
Then he did something he hadn't really though about and pulled out a pen from his pocket. Then grabbed her arm, scrunching up her coat sleeve.
If she was surprised, she didn't really show it. She didn't pull away. Just smiled at him as she watch him do it.
"My phone number. I'd like you to you know, call me." He offered as to the reason he was scribing on her arm. "If you want to."
"Oh." Was all she said too shocked.
His cab drew up, and taking another chance he stood to leave and dropped a light kiss on her cheek.
"Thanks for the pain killers." He said. Then turned and climbed in the Uber.
She stopped still. Her sleeve still rolled up; his kiss still fresh on her cheek.
He popped his head out of the cab and grinned at her as it pulled away. Liking how stunned she looked.
"Me name's Fingers by the way." He shouted as the cab roared off.
"Molly." Was what she whispered too softly for him to hear back.