Step by Step
Chapter 8
"So what's next for you Molly?" He stirred his coffee rather than look into her eyes again.
Eyes that seemed to draw him in each and every time he looked into them. Eyes that were almost impossible to forget.
He would be lying if he said he'd thought about her constantly over the past four years. His life had, as expected, gone on. He'd had his share of meaningless fun, enjoyed the company of a lady or two in that time. Nothing lasting nothing serious. Merely a distraction. Yet despite his career advancement and the fun he had in his life, every now and then he'd find that his mind would often stray to thoughts of one Miss Molly Dawes, and her fine eyes. The very same Molly Dawes, and the same set of eyes, who sat opposite him now.
She talked. Answered all his questions. Smile and looked at him many times. Pulling her lip through her bottom teeth in the most enchanting way. Obviously happy with his company. Explaining to him where she was expecting to be posted next, and if he's honest he listens, but only half heartedly.
He wonders what he's doing here? Why did he ask her for a coffee? What had made him do something so out of character? He doesn't get emotionally involved. Never has since his marriage went spectacularly wrong. He's sort out company only when the ache of loneliness drove him to it, and Elvis had spurred him on while in a drunken state. Yet here he was sober and he'd actually sort her company out, and more surprisingly found he was enjoying it. He was mesmerised by her.
As she talked, he thought. Thought about the last time he'd seen her, the last time he'd helped her. Not expecting it really to be so long until they had met again.
He had asked Georgie about her once or twice in the intervening years. Trying to play it cool, scared she'd read too much into it and interfere. He had hoped to be brave enough if he did see her again to ask for her phone number, and he had even visited Georgie's flat once more in the hope of seeing Molly Dawes, but each attempt failed. He never saw her again. Georgie became a closed book, where Molly was concerned, and their relationship, which had always been based around Elvis, soon faded away and they all moved on in different directions. And so he started to almost, but not quite, forget.
Yet as soon as he saw her. As soon as he clocked her barging noisily through the lecture theatres doors, he knew he was still pleased to see her, and he hadn't forgotten.
Her eyes. Eyes he couldn't recall noticing before, but then seeing them again making him realise that he'd never forgotten them or seen any eyes as beautiful as hers. That smile, the one the that lit up a lonely room in his closed off heart, suddenly warmed him again. He'd felt keenly what he'd missed all these past four years without even knowing it. Until today.
"So basically." She continued. "I reckon it will be Catterick. Friarage Hospital or Birmingham. Who knows?" She looked up at him expectantly. Smiling her smile.
He smiled back at her. Unsure as to what he'd missed. Wishing he'd listened a bit more.
She smiled again at him. More shyly this time. Unsure.
"It will be bit odd being called Acting Corporal Dawes in a couple of weeks' times though." She added. Unsure if she still should be talking. Feeling uncomfortable sitting there chatting away when he seemed to have lost interest.
"Yeah." Is all he offered to her through smiles and nods of his head.
"Guess you're used to all that though?" She asked.
"All what?" He had totally lost the track of her conversation.
"Rank and being called 'Sir' and that." She replied.
He watched her. Her face tipped up to his, hoping for something more from him.
He chuckled and sat back. Physically moving away from her to give him some time to think without being intoxicated by her.
"Yeah. I guess I am." He laughed. "You'll have to start calling me 'Sir' from now on."
Her eyes shot up. Shocked and tying to work out of he was being serious or not.
"I guess I will." She plainly replied. "Though I guess I won't see you that much though. Will I?" She asked, dared to hope.
"No. I don't suppose you will." Was his automatic reply. Wishing, hoping he could say something clever or funny. Anything that would make her want to stay and talk to him longer.
"So anyway." She looked out of the window and noticed the rain had stopped. "I best be going."
He doesn't want her to go, but can't find it in him to ask her to stay. She watches as he stands, the perfect gentleman, and accepts the jacket she hands him. It's then, as she offers it to him that their fingers touch, and she feels foolish at the sensation that runs through her body. Desire, plain and simple.
"It was good seeing you again Dawes." He stretches out a hand to shake. Polite.
"Yes. You too Charles." She responds. "I mean Sir." And the last words are said with an under lying tone of mockery he notices.
He watches her walk away. She doesn't look back, and he feels upset. There's a feeling inside of him that unsettles him, and that's not what he wants. That isn't who he is anymore. It's best, he reasons, just to let her go. He out ranks her. He's an old and battle tested Major. Eight, nine years, her elder. What would someone like her see in someone like him?
He reasons it out as he slowly walks back to his barracks. Keenly breathing her scent from his jacket she wore. Warm and spiced notes fill his nose. She's about to become a newly qualified registered nurse. Just staring out on her journey. She doesn't need him. The complication of it all. He doesn't need her, he argues internally with himself, and so he lets her go. He doesn't turn at all to watch the beautiful girl with the green sparkly eyes walk away from him... again.
...…
"How's the folks?" It's polite conversation. Always is when he first meets up with Elvis. Although their friendship has repaired since that day at the Town Hall, they still are cautious around each other at first. Measuring each other up.
"Same old." Elvis replied sucking on his beer. "They still hate my job. Deeply disappointed with me and all that shit. Going around the world killing folks."
"Yeah? I can imagine." Charles chuckles and suddenly just like that the tension is broken.
Elvis beams back at his mate. The most loyal mate a friend could have. They've had their fall outs, they've had their misunderstandings, but throughout it all no matter what they still remained loyal friends.
"So what going on in Charlie's world?" Elvis always asked the question, and the answers never changed. Charles always defaulted to the work answer. Boring and predictable. Only coming out of his shell when Elvis really pushed him and plied him with plenty of booze.
Yet this time there was a pause. Enough to make Elvis look up. Charles had never hesitated in his reply before. Elvis sees it, sure that there is something off balance in his best mate's life.
Elvis says nothing, just continues staring ahead at the bar they were sitting at and lets out a small chuckle.
"What?" Charles snapped back. "I never said anything." He angrily said knowing what that chuckle meant.
"You don't have to mate." Was all Elvis said as he ordered them two more beers with chasers. "But you will."
They necked the shots, gasping at the toughness of the liquor and calmed their throats with the beers. Both stayed silent for a while.
"So?" Eventually Elvis asked. "You gonna say?"
"Nothing to say." Charles admitted, but he was thinking about a pair of green eyes again.
"Whatever mate." Elvis muttered quietly. "But you can't fool me."
Charles looked as him quizzically.
"Look Charlie. I know the signs. Hello. Remember me? I've been in love with the same woman for years. I fucked it up I know." He says before Charles could get a dig in. "But I still love her... and I know unrequited love when I see it."
"For fucks sale Elvis. I'm not in love." Charles spat back.
"Yeah?" You sure about that mate?" Then turning to look at Charles he asks. "But there is at least someone isn't there?"
Again Charles says nothing and simply orders more shots.
Tonight was going to be a good one for forgetting it all. He had a long weekend's leave, and was soon off to his new posting. His packing was almost done, his departure date getting closer. All he needed to do was to start his round of goodbyes, and then he'd be done. Tonight was the start of it all. Elvis was his first planned goodbye.
"Look don't tell me mate. I get that." Elvis continued after accepting the shot. "You've lost trust in me a long time ago I reckon." He said huffily and he necked the shot back.
"Shit Elvis. It's not that." Charles explained. "It's just..." He downed his harsh liquor quota too. "Complicated... and...It's nothing I can explain."
He's seen her twice more since that disastrous coffee date. Both times almost by accident, but he'd positioned himself in the areas where she'd pass through, and in the past two weeks he'd been lucky ... twice. They were the good days.
It had never gone past five or ten minutes of chat in the corridor. Both aware of his status and the lack of hers, but still they had chatted. Flirted even, but she always called him 'Sir', almost laughingly making a very definite point of it.
He noticed during these times he invested in her. He
enjoyed listening to her, enjoyed her happy laughter, and felt a sense of loss when, even though they had only been in each other's company for minutes, they parted.
He admitted it to himself and no one else. He liked Molly Dawes. He actually found that maybe he more than liked her. She was someone who for the first time in nearly a decade had interested him, and he wanted to know some more.
Yet it was impossible. She was here for now, but soon about to go to her first placement, and he was being posted too. Their paths were bound not to cross again, and he regretted that. But how was he able to explain all that to his love cynical mate? That this girl, who he met on one of the worse days of Elvis' life, and who he'd only met briefly since, was starting to fill up most of his daily thoughts.
"Yeah. Whatever mate. You need a check-up from the neck up mate." Elvis spoke bringing him out of his musings.
"What?" Charles asked confused, conscious he'd been quiet for a long time thinking about Molly.
"Look. Whoever it is for fuck sake put yourself out of your misery and tell her. Shit Charlie grow a bloody pair." And with that Elvis shot off the stool and left. "If you won't talk to me. Try talking to her. Miserable git."
Charles was now left alone. The bar bill his only friend. The night now definitely over for them both. Elvis offended by his friend's secrecy, had walked out, away to find friendship elsewhere.
...
"So tell me again what we're doing?" Elvis watched his best mate, several weeks later getting himself ready.
Charles stepped onto his dark jeans and sighed. Fasting the belt and nervously rubbing his hands up and down the legs. Sweaty palms.
"I've told you. We're going out for a drink." Charles replied focusing on choosing a smart shirt more than his reply to Elvis.
"Really?" Elvis laughed. "A drink? A simple drink?"
"Yes." Charles snapped. Finally choosing the perfect blue shirt and reflecting on his appearance.
"So if that's the case?" Elvis asked. "A... Why are you poncing yourself up and B... why are you acting as nervous as a virgin on her wedding night?"
Charles spun round and watched his friend laying on his bed, calm, cool and mocking him. He was right though. Charles was nervous.
Over the past few weeks he'd done some hunting around. An easy thing for him to do due to his rank. He knew today had been Molly's graduation day, and although he hadn't been able to attend that without raising an eyebrow or two, he knew he'd be able to join them tonight. By listening to the gossip around camp about the graduation he found out that tonight a large group of them were off out to celebrate. A meal and then on to some club. Charles' cunning plan was to, once again, accidentally bump into her on this night out. Take a chance, move this 'friendship' onto another stage.
It seemed a simple plan. Fool proof. Yet he was nervous. He didn't know what he was expecting from it. He was leaving in a week or so, but before he went, he knew he needed to take a chance with the girl whose face rarely left his thoughts these days.
"Look." Charles began. "There's this girl." Instantly he regretted it.
Elvis burst out laughing. He couldn't blame him. It did sound so juvenile. Here Charles was a grown man. A Major in the bloody British Army, and he was conniving on 'meeting' a girl and needed his best mate as back up.
"I knew it." Elvis belted out through his laughter. "Bloody hell Charlie. How old are you?"
"Look it's not like that." Charles raked his hands though his hair for the thousandth time. "This one is just..."
"What's her name mate?" Elvis asked trying to be serious. Watching all types of anxiety cross his friends face.
Automatically Charles answered, smiling.
"Molly."
"Molly?" Elvis threw his arms up in disbelief. "Not 'lift girl Molly'? Not her still?"
Charles looked at his friend with utter confusion. "What do you mean? 'Lift girl Molly.' How'd you know about that?"
"I mean Charlie you'd be a rubbish special agent. You talk... a lot... when pissed." Elvis burst out.
Charles shook his head.
"I don't follow?"
Elvis sat up on his mates' bed.
"Charlie, I hate to tell you, but for the past four years or so when you've been pissed and right maudlin all you ever talk about is this girl Molly. 'The lift girl'. The 'perfect bundle of contradictions. That's what you call her."
"Shit! Do I? Have I?" Charles was shocked.
"Yeah." Elvis continued to chuckle. "Even heard it from a good source that you might even once or twice called one of your lady friends her name too... you know just at the wrong time and that."
"Fuck. Shit." Charles hung his head low. Utterly ashamed and amazed at Elvis' revelations. They were not the traits of a gentleman.
"So? Where are we off to meet Molly tonight then?" Elvis continued. "I can see why you're nervous. But why do you really need me there with you on your date?"
"Ah. Well you see." Charles felt foolish. "It isn't a date. More like being in the same place at the same time." He confessed.
"For fucks sake Charlie! You ain't even asked her?"
"Well no." Examining it like this he knew how pathetic it sounded. "It's complicated."
Elvis jumped off the bed and grabbed his jacket.
"One hour. That's all I'm giving ya. One hour to be your fucking wing man. Then I'm out of there."
Charles smiled and grabbed his car keys. Intending on keeping a clear head and the excuse of being able to offer her a lift home part of his plan, he intended to drive. He'd planned for tonight like he'd never planned a date, which wasn't a date, before.
The bar was crowded and noisy. Instantly he felt his nerves, and Elvis slapped him on his back and scooted off to the bar for fortifications, meaning he stood there alone and unsure.
Charles felt lost for a moment. He felt old and foolish, this wasn't his usual thing, and then he saw her. All doubts disappeared. She was beautiful, happy and surrounded by what seemed to him an impenetrable wall of friends. He hesitated as to how to make a move. He didn't need to however; she saw him within seconds of him walking through the door. Their eyes connecting with each other, both their smiles wide and genuine as she moved forwards towards him.
"Evening Sir." She beamed as she stepped up close to him away from the crowd. Grinning at the tease she had started by being so formal.
"Charles." He offered. Knowing she'd called him his name many times before, but going along with the game they played where she always started off on the formal side. "And congratulations Acting Corporal Dawes."
She giggled happily and he could tell this wasn't her first drink. Winking at him as she took a mouthful.
"Good day?" He asked.
"The best." She replied. "The bleeding best." Her smile just got bigger, and for a moment he was lost in it.
"So...come here often?" She asked then burst out laughing. "I mean... is this your usual place... I mean... You here alone?" She finally got out. The drink and her nerves were fearfully becoming a dangerous combination.
"No, and no." Charles smiled back liking this giggling Molly more and more. "I'm here with a friend." And encouraged seeing the smile drop from her face he quickly continued. "He's at the bar." Loving how her smile quickly returned.
"So what now then Molly?" He asked as they were bumped and jostled together. The bar was crowded and noisy enough for them to have to stand close to each other. Closer than they ever had before. He spoke the words into her ear, she felt him warm, soft and close. Closer than she ever felt just standing next to anyone before. Charles' height an advantage. He looked down on her and loved the way she looked up at him. He could smell the spiciness of her perfume, the uniqueness of her smell, and smiled when he realised, he could even count the few freckles on her skin.
"A week holiday. Then as I thought. Catterick. My first placement for three months. Then...Who knows?" She replied.
"That's great." He replied. Enjoying how she had to stand up on her tiptoes to talk into his ear. How to steady herself she rested her hands firmly on his chest, how her body leaned into his.
"Yeah. It's all pretty mad. But exiting." She smiled. "You know though it was kind of all down to you, and that day in the lift that started all this. Well you and Georgie." She replied.
He'd heard her say such things before to him, but still he raised his eyebrows. He didn't want her thanks, but appreciated how it all could have been so different for her. He was proud of who she had become, with or without him.
"Yeah. You mate. You were the one who started it all." She giggled as she swigged back her glass of fizz. Poking him in the chest. "You stopped me making the biggest mistake of me life. Well you and a power cut." She paused and looked deeply into his eyes. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He softly spoke. "Your very welcome." Her eyes caught his and wouldn't let them go, they stared at each other for a while.
He found his hand had sort hers out as it rested on his chest, and he delicately began to stoked her tiny fingers under his. She didn't pull away. Her tiny body seemed to move in closer to his.
He hesitated and almost rushed in to quickly to kiss her, watching as she stared up at him, how her lips slightly parted as though inviting him to do so. His hesitation left him.
"Molly." He whispered out.
She blinked as though she gave him permission to continue.
"Molly." His hand moved to her face and cupped it, gently, softly.
"That day... in the lift ..." He started. "That day was special for me too."
Her eyes didn't leave his. Not once. She swallowed hard, mesmerised by him. He dipped his head low. Low enough to almost touch her lips, feeling her sweet warm breath on his.
"MOLLY!"
She snapped back and pulled away from him as though on fire. Turning to face the person who had shouted out her name across the crowded bar.
Charles took a few moments to realise what had just happened. So close to kissing her, she had pulled away from him at the last minute. He felt confused. Cheated.
"There you are. Thought you were worshiping the great porcelain God or something." The young man said as soon as he got to her side. "We was worried."
She have him a weak smile. "I ain't that pissed." She protested.
Charles looked at the two of them while Molly suddenly remembered her manners. Curious as to who this young lad was. More Molly's age than his, and obviously someone who knew Molly well.
"Shit. Sorry. Charles this is Chris. Chris this is Charles. Major James that is."
Charles automatically held out his hand and shook the other's firmly.
"Pleased to meet you Chris." He said politely.
"So you know our Mols then?" Chris asked.
"Err. Yes. Kind of." Charles replied as he watch the young man slide his arm around Molly's shoulders and claim her right in front of him.
"That's nice." Was all Chris coldly said. "Right Mols. Shall we head back to the group?" And he started to turn her before her answer.
Chris noticed her reluctance and her backward glance towards Charles. Feeling uneasy about leaving her alone with him.
"Come the fuck on Mols." Chris shouted as he made his way back to the group. "Don't leave your boyfriend and mates waiting for you." And with those words he pulled her away from Charles and his influence. Her loyalty to her friends taking over any other desires she might, even briefly, of had.
"Shit." He cursed under his breath as he stood alone and foolish again.
"Oh harsh mate. Harsh." Elvis smirked out and expressed his amusement loudly.
Elvis had watched it all from the side lines, and had seen just how close his mate was to finishing the deal, so to speak, when he was out smarted by another. Now he returned with the drinks and plenty of piss taking.
"Take it that was the boyfriend then?" He asked, trying, though unsuccessfully, to appear a little bit supportive.
"I guess so." Charles sadly replied. "Fuck. Hadn't expected that."
"So what you gonna do?" Elvis continued to grin at the situation.
"Don't know." Charles honestly replied. "Don't bloody know do I?"
At this Elvis started to laughed. "Oh you poor deluded fool Charlie. You poor deluded fool."
Charles stood watching the group Molly was once again embedded in. How they had reabsorbed her, and he knew his chance had passed. He had no further excuses to talk to her. Besides it was her night and he wanted her to enjoy it.
He swigged on his one and only drink. Growing increasingly annoyed with Elvis who still insisted on chuckling at Charles' crashing and burning episode.
Suddenly though Charles saw a shift in the group. Watched her spot both of them at still standing together at the bar.
She hesitated. Then as if in a dream he watched her walk over to them. Walking purposely towards them. There was no doubt. She was on a mission. She was coming to talk to them.
"I don't know what you're laughing at Elvis." Charles managed to choke out. "Looks like your nights about to go south too!"
Elvis swung round at Charles' words. Confused. Then suddenly he saw her too.
By the time he computed it all he was almost face to face with her.
She smiled politely to Charles who nodded his head and stepped back. Not wanting to be too close to this fall out.
"Elvis." Was all she said.
One word but spoken as brutally as any word could be said.
He froze.
He'd never expected it to be her. For her to be here tonight. For them even to meet again. Not like this.
He failed to answer and watched her face tick over with impatience in waiting for his acknowledgment of her.
He stumbled. Not like him at all, yet here she was. The woman he loved. The woman he thought about for the past five years. Finally she was standing in front of him speaking his name.
Here standing in front of him after nearly five years of wanting nothing to do with him ever again was Georgie Lane.