Chapter 7

I keep thinking about Charles after our latest chance meetings and him saving me again. How he cared for me in a way no man ever has before, how gently he touched me whilst patching me up. I want to know more about him, I want to see him again, but we never said we would. No phone numbers were exchanged. When I bring him up with Georgie, she is disappointingly discouraging even if she actually likes him in a strictly platonic way.

"Charles? If he's a good guy? I'd say so. I don't know him that well, but he has been nothing but decent and kind to me. If you fancy him I'd still say; don't go there."

"I'm not saying I fancy him, but just out of curiosity, why not?"

"Because these Army guys, officers like Charles and Elvis, they will put the Army before anything. They have it in their blood, like a restlessness, a pull, or a disease if you will, that makes them think that living out of a bergen is the best kind of life there is. It's all they really want in the end. Elvis told me that was what caused the split between Charles and his ex-wife. Yes, he has been married, divorced now. Charles thinks it was because she cheated on him, which in a way it was, but truth was she cheated because he never was there in body or mind. As for himself, Elvis said he never had even imagined a settled life before he met me. He convinced me that I had changed his mind, but I think that may have been what gave him cold feet when it came to it. Right before the wedding realising that he would be stuck with a wife and kids in a few years if he went through with it. His wings would be clipped forever."

"But you're in the Army too?"

"I am, but as much as I enjoy my job, to me it is just a job and not everything. I want more than that. I want a real home, a family. That is what it's like for many of us, but for a few, if they have to choose, the Army always comes first. That's why I say if you fancy Charles, try not to. I want to save you from a broken heart for giving it to a man who already has chosen the love of his life. I know for a fact Charles is one of those guys. If I hadn't thought so before, he also said it clearly the other night. That he tried marriage once and it wasn't for him so now he'll stick to what he knows; the Army."

I hear what she says. and it makes perfect sense to forget about Charles, yet there is a flutter in my belly that doesn't want to still, a whisper inside me that doesn't want to be quiet, telling me there is something about him that is just right.

By now I have also connected the dots; when I first ran into Charles and he was being such a wanker, he had moments earlier been forced to deliver the message to Georgie that Elvis wasn't showing up for his own wedding and seen her break apart. With that and a history of a divorce due to cheating, no wonder he was disillusioned when it came to love. I still remember his words; 'Only fools get married! Either the wedding day ends in disaster or there's a divorce down the lane anyway. Why don't you save yourself from that misery?'

I had saved myself from it that day, but it didn't mean I want to stay away from it forever, not if the guy is right. Charles still seemed to feel the same though, judging by what he said to Georgie. It doesn't matter anyway, because he is so totally out of my league.

"I'm sorry Molly."

"For what?"

"Because you're looking all sad now and I didn't mean to make you sad."

"I know you didn't and it's not only what you said. I don't even know Charles. It's just the thought that I don't stand a chance with a guy like him anyway, Army first or not. Not only him, any decent bloke is out of my league."

"I beg to defer."

"But it's the truth. I'm a magnet to guys like Artan, Fingers or other copies of my dad, the good ones will at best pay me a cab to go home safely."

Georgie smiled.

"I don't think that is true, but if you feel like that you need to change it."

"How?"

"By doing something that will boost your confidence. By changing something in your life so you think yourself worthy of the good ones. I already think you are, but if you don't think so yourself then they never will. If you think you deserve shit, then that's what will come your way. You need to appreciate yourself Molls, before any guy really can. That's what matters. So, we need to find a way for you to do that."

"Easier said than done."

"True but far from impossible. We'll figure it out together. If you really want something and give it all you have, there's no reason why you can't get it."

The way Georgie believes in me is truly encouraging. Bella, mum, Nan they all love me but believe people like us belong in the box we're born in. If Georgie believes I can do something like that to change my life and wants to help me, then maybe I can.

"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Molly..."

My eyes fill up with tears at the surprise. Happy tears. My friends, I suspect with Georgie in the lead, have arranged a surprise birthday party. For me! I shouldn't be so surprised because these days I have so many great friends who do nice things for me all the time. The kind of friends who have my back instead of stabbing it, who boost my confidence and take joy in my joy and aren't jealous when things go well for me. Still, it makes me touched when they once again prove it to me like this, surprising me with song, hugs, lots to drink and a big birthday cake where it is written; Molly 24 years.

Georgie had asked me to pop over to her and Jamie, her boyfriend for the past two years, here in their flat in Birmingham. I thought they wanted to celebrate me with a quiet dinner but was met by all my lovely friends. My life in a nutshell; just wonderful.

I was the one who moved from London to Birmingham first, after Georgie helped me to figure out what I wanted to do with my life and taking the first steps getting there. We had talked a lot about the Army and the different options there and then I mentioned to her that it was something of a dream of mine to become a nurse, but that it seemed unattainable, going to university and all. That was when she told me you can actually train to be a nurse through the Army and if you do there are plenty of different options open for you once you are ready, both in the UK and abroad. I objected my grades would never be sufficient to be accepted, but she didn't buy that, just said it wasn't a permanent state that couldn't be changed. She helped me to identify what courses I needed to take to improve my grades enough to be accepted, find and apply for evening courses I could take in parallel to my job at the supermarket and then continued to push me and help me with my homework. During that year, she did more for my schooling than anyone in my family ever has. She also helped me to build my confidence by making me realise I'm not an illiterate fool that can't be taught anything. When I had the possibility to focus more than I ever could in my noisy school and home, I did quite well both in Math and English.

In addition to all this, she helped me with my fitness. When you train to be an Army nurse, you start with the Phase 1 training that any recruit go through to become a soldier, before you start your 3-year university course. So, I didn't only have to prove myself clever enough, I also had to be fit enough to enlist and Georgie took it on herself to be my personal trainer. In one way, I think this "project" helped her get over Elvis, because she had something positive to focus on. She was so determined I wouldn't fail, pepped me, supported me and challenged me so I wouldn't give up. Charles James may have saved my bacon on two occasions, but no one has done as much for me as Georgie. It was sweat, blood and tears both physically and mentally during the months when I studied to improve my GCSEs and exercised in parallel. In the beginning I cursed under my breath because it was so hard, but as I grew stronger and became fitter, it got easier and easier. When I finally tried out for Phase 1, I passed. I almost couldn't believe it, but then I made it through Phase 1 and I was accepted to go on to training as an Army nurse. When I read the acceptance letter I realised for the first time that maybe all of this was true after all; I was well on my way to becoming a nurse. The following autumn I moved to Birmingham to spend 3 years at the Defense School of Healthcare Education.

I was sad to leave Georgie and the flat in London, but we stayed in close contact and often visited one another whenever she was posted in the UK. When she came visiting me over a weekend and we went to a bar, we ran into one of the young doctors that had been one of my teachers on the previous course, Jamie Cole. He was about the same age as Georgie, who is a few years older than me, handsome, clever, kind and charming in a quiet way. He and Georgie, who still was single, immediately hit it off and started dating. Georgie spent more and more of her free time in Birmingham and six months later Jamie asked her to move in with him. First, she hesitated, said she needed to think about it and I know it still scared her to take such a step after what happened with Elvis, but then something happened which tipped the scale in favour of Birmingham and Jamie.

When Georgie returned to London after one weekend in Birmingham, she found her flat completely turned upside down by burglars. Everything of value was gone and they had gone to lengths to demolish the rest. The strange thing was that it seemed like they had had a key to get in. They weren't the cleverest of thieves and the forensics managed to secure evidence which could be matched to some people already known in the police database; my dad and Artan! What a fine pair they are. It seemed like after Dave took my hand clutch, he had held on to my flat keys and bided his time trying to find out my address. He finally did, and I don't know if he knew I didn't live there anymore or not, but the temptation to lay his hands on some valuable stuff was too tempting either way. Too coward to go through with it on his own, he had contacted Artan and his friends. Artan, still as vengeful as ever had not been late to agree to break and enter, not only to steal but to ruin what he thought was my home. The police caught them and in addition to the evidence found in Georgie's flat, they still had much of the stolen goods and were sentenced to jail for a few years.

By then, Georgie had already moved in with Jamie. The demolition of the home she once had hoped to share with Elvis was like a final sign to move on, so she did. She had been so cautious after Elvis, but even if I never had met him I understood that Jamie was the opposite of him; stable, reliable, unadventurous and made always made her feel she came second to nothing. For the first time she trusted a man again and now, two years later they are engaged.

I have enjoyed my student years immensely. Not only on occasions like my birthday party tonight, but every aspect of it. I have met so many new friends and love the nurse training. I have dated a few guys and had my share of fun, but until a few months ago mainly focused on my studies because I want this so much. I want to be an Army nurse and I want to be a good one. Strangely, it seems like I'm in my right element and even if I have to work hard for it, everything has gone my way and so far, I have passed all my exams. Then unexpectedly, about a month ago, I met someone quite special and now I'm in the very early days of a relationship. It's rather a near-relationship, we don't call ourselves a couple yet and I haven't introduced him to my friends, so he isn't invited to my surprise birthday party even if Georgie knows about him. I miss him a little tonight and hope I can convince him to come over later and sleep in my bed.

The only thing that worries me a bit is that I'm approaching the end of my nurse training. As soon as that is finished, I will complete a short Transition to Military Practice Course, then be assigned to a Defense Medical Group Hospital to commence my preceptorship and rotation programme. It is not up to me to decide where I will be assigned and I even if I really like him, I'm not sure I would be willing to let that guide my choices even if I could. I want to go where I can be a brilliant Army nurse. He encourages me to do just that, but I think that he would be more pleased if I stayed than he lets on. Maybe this is why we haven't said we're together yet, both hesitant to establish something we soon may have to break up anyway. It is a bit ironic because one of my motives for transforming myself, so I would feel self-respect, was to feel worthy of good guys, of true love. Now that I feel that I am, I want more than that and I know I may chose to leave him behind if that is what is required of me. I do wish he was here tonight though, it would have made my birthday complete.

"As a part of preparing you for what you can expect working out in the field, both at home and abroad, from next week and on until you graduate next month we will offer a series of lectures by external lecturers related to the Army in different ways", one of our teachers, Dr. Hammond tells the class. "Even if attendance is voluntary, I strongly advise you to listen to as many of these lectures as possible, to prepare you for the career ahead of you. The profession you have chosen means you will make the difference between life and death for many people. It is a great responsibility and it is important to gain insight in what that may be like."

As the eager student I am, I intend to attend all these lectures. The first lecture in the series is by a nurse who has been both to Afghanistan, working at the Army hospital in Bastion, and participated in different outreach projects. Her stories are fascinating and I'm more eager than ever to graduate and face reality.

"Who's up next week?" I ask my class mate Jane.

"Some scruffy old Major", she says. "Don't think that will be as exciting. He'll probably recite that dreary Flanders field poem and tell us about boring good old days."

I giggle at the picture she paints but still have every intention to participate. Next Wednesday is not my lucky day though. I get a late start because my near-boyfriend occupies the shower for so long and I can't help being annoyed with him, something which has happened a few times lately. I normally bike to class, this day no exception, but today when I'm halfway there the skies open and heavy rain starts pouring down. It only takes a minute and I'm soaked to the skin. As if that wasn't bad enough, I get a flat tire, have to walk the last bit when I park my bike and rush inside I'm inevitably late.

The lecture has already been going on for fifteen minutes when I open the big double doors that unfortunately are located at the front of the room, not the back. I feel the eyes of the entire auditorium on me dressed in dripping clothes. I try to ignore their stares and the pool of water at my feet and only search for the eyes of the guest lecturer, to apologize for the interruption and for arriving as a wet mess. Then our gazes lock and I'm unable to say anything at all, feel myself freeze and flush with an unexpected heat simultaneously.

Those brown eyes, even after all this time I would recognize them anywhere. He cocks an eyebrow and bites his lower lip, I get the feeling not to start laughing at me but maintain his serious lecturer image.

"Well, miss, that's quite an entrance."

"I'm sorry for the interruption, for being late", I stutter.

"I suppose I should be flattered you chose to come here despite the rain. I appreciate a keen and eager student", he says dryly and my cheeks heat when there is low laughter throughout the room.

He walks over to me.

"You look freezing, let me lend you this."

He wriggles off his jacket and offers it to me.

"Thanks, but really there's no need."

He leans closer and talks in low voice, almost a murmur and a warm breath of air next to my ear, so only I can hear.

"Trust me, there is, or the males in the audience won't listen to a word I say because they're busy staring at your lace bra."

Horrified I look down and realise my white t-shirt is not only glued to my body but also transparent, so everyone can see my white lace bra. He just smiles politely yet amused and put the jacket over my shoulders, giving them a brief squeeze, then return to his previous position. Embarrassed beyond belief I sit down on the first free seat I see.

Major Charles James, hardly an old scruffy chap and I think the female part of the audience find it hard to focus on what he says because they are busy ogling him as he paces back and forth on the small stage. Probably they are slightly jealous of me for wearing his jacket. Secretly, I sniff it and it smells so good from some very manly yet discrete aftershave. Four years since I last saw him, and he looks just the same; as tall, as good-looking, probably his arms are just as toned under his well-fitting white shirt as they were that day in the lift. Does he remember or was it only my Miss Wet T-shirt entrance that amused him? I don't know, but I do know that I'm as mesmerised by him as I was before. The voice, the way he smoothly moves, but I try to focus on what he says.

Like the nurse last week, he tells us about Afghanistan and different outreach projects, but he has also been to other war zones in the Middle East and Africa. His experience seems endless and I'm thinking Georgie was right that time when she said he is one of those men who is married to the Army. Still, I wonder if he is seeing someone now. He tells his story from another angle than the nurse did, expressing gratitude and appreciation for what we contribute in our future role.

"So many of my men would be dead, I would be dead, if it wasn't for the MERT and the staff at the field hospital and the way to recovery once an injured soldier is shipped back home is also highly dependent on skilled Army nurses. Doctors too of course, but you are as vital as them to care, help and motivate. I'm eternally grateful to those that helped me and I'm sure you will make that important difference to someone else."

His eyes lock with mine for a few long seconds and my breath hitches.

When the loud applause ends after his last words and the auditorium empties except for a few that linger to ask him questions, I shyly approach him. I have the valid reason that I must return his jacket.

I know he is aware of my presence as he answers some final questions, can see him watching me out of the corner of his eye and when they leave, he turns to me with a smile.

"Do you remember me? I mean, not from now, barging in like this was a Miss Wet T-shirt competition but from..."

"Your wedding day?" he interrupts me. "Of course, how can I ever forget? How come there always seems to be some drama going on when I meet you Molly Dawes?"

"I don't know, my life is generally uneventful until minutes before you come along. You must be tired of saving me", I giggle nervously.

"Not really. It's been far too long since the last time and here you are, almost finished training as an Army nurse."

"Yeah, who would have thought?"

"Was it four years ago we met?"

"Something like that, but you look the same."

"You look different, older."

"That's not usually considered as a compliment when said to a girl, you know."

His cheeks turn slightly pink.

"It was meant to be. I just want to say you don't look so childish anymore..."

I raise my eyebrows, challenging, because now he sort of insults the way I looked then instead.

"Shit, all I mean to say is; you looked like a very young, lost girl then. Especially when we met in the lift. Now you look like a young woman who knows where she is going. It becomes you. Even better than the change of hair colour."

Now I feel myself blush, because that truly is a compliment.

"Then, I suppose, thank you", I stutter.

"I'd love to hear how your life has been, how you ended up here."

This is where he will say 'we should take a coffee some time', like people say but then never do.

"Can I buy you a coffee?" he asks.

"What? Now? Go for a coffee you and me?"

"Do you see anyone else here?" he smirks. "Yes, you and I unless you already have other plans?"

"No, I'm free. Just planned to study for my final exams but I can spare the time."

"Are you sure?"

I have loads and loads to read, the flat needs cleaning, I need to go shopping groceries, I half promised to go with a friend to a movie in two hours and I do have a near-boyfriend already.

"Yes, I'm sure. Don't really drink coffee but a cuppa would be nice."

"Great, let's go then. And you may keep my jacket for now, or I think things may be a bit...awkward."

Dear lord. How many times can I blush in one morning?