She knew
Chapter 3
She knew it was him from the moment she started to awake.
She knew his smell. Woody, spicy. Unmistakably and wonderfully him.
She knew it was his hand clinging onto hers. The familiar way his thumb stroked her knuckles and the roughness of his hands as he held hers.
She knew he was there and she knew it felt so good. It was the way she had woken up numerous times before, and she loved it now as much as she loved it then.
Slowly though she came out of the fog. Recognising more and more about her surroundings, the sounds, the smell and the touches to her skin. She still hadn't opened her eyes though. She still didn't want to.
It seemed too much of an effort. The cloud she was floating on was perfect. She was free and he was here beside her. She had missed him. She knew that then and she knew that now.
She shifted her body slightly and the pain shot through her leg. That's when she knew.
That was when she forced open her eyes and knew the happy place she had been in was no longer there for her.
Her eyes now fully opened and focused she had to face reality. Had to face the truth.
"Hey." He said as soon as he saw her eyes open. His voice was choked with emotion. "Let me call a nurse."
She moved her head to look at him. They were the first words he'd spoken to her in over a year and she didn't know what to say back.
"Charles?" She automatically asked though unsure of what was happening.
"Yeah? It's me Molly." He now stood over her and brushed the stay hairs from her face. "You had me so worried."
She let him go on. She knew she was in too much pain, so she said nothing and just waited.
The nurse came to help her. Tended to her immediate needs, and Charles still the gentleman left the room as she was assessed.
"What's going on?" She asked once she was alone with the nurse. "What's he doing here?"
The nurse and doctor that had entered exchanged a glance as they examined her. Moving around her body, dealing with her injuries, they explained all.
"Molly you've been in a car crash. Full head on collision. You've been badly injured. A broken leg... we've operated on that. Several cracked ribs." They watched her wince. "You're a bit muddled too; you've had a contusion to your brain...and you've had an emergency splenectomy." They finished with a flourish at the list of her trauma.
As they chatted to her she knew that they were trying to keep it positive. That they were happy to talk about her breaks and bumps, but she knew there was something she wasn't being told.
Eventually they left. His presence still not explained to her. The upped pain meds started to work and Charles slowly moved back into the room. She knew she didn't have the energy to argue.
As soon as he came in she had to bite back the tears she knew were going to come. It was all too much.
"What are you doing here?" She instead asked. Her words less harsh than they should have been. Than what he deserved.
"The hospital called." He explained still standing closed by her door. Still unsure if he should come fully in. If he was welcome.
"Why?" She asked through half closed eyed.
"You still have me down as your ICE. On your phone." He nodded to the locker. "They tried your parents. Your next of kin... but they are away on holiday. So they called me."
"And?" She asked. Not feeling as though that was enough of a reason for him to be there. "Why did you come?"
"Shit Molly. You nearly died!" He half choked out. "They needed permission to operate. Your parents couldn't... so I came."
She allowed this information to sink in. But still she knew there was something missing.
"So I'm awake now. You can go." She said and her eyes closed and the pain med induce sleep took over.
Yet he didn't go. And if she had been half sensible she knew he wouldn't. She knew he'd fulfil his quota of duty by her bedside.
As she opened her eyes the next morning she knew it was to an empty room. The noise of the ward waking her up she felt strangely lonely, and unsettled. A feeling she hadn't allowed herself to feel for a while.
She lay and pieced together what she knew and what she thought she should know. It was all so confusing and still there were big pieces of her memory missing. She longed to have the gaps filled. To know it all. Yet she didn't, and the only thing she knew was that last night he shouldn't have been there.
Fourteen months ago. That was the last time she had seen him.
Fourteen months had passed and her life was moving along without her adulterous husband in it. She knew though time meant nothing. It was only recently that she could say his name without her heart feeling as though it was being ripped out. That on the days she allowed herself to think about him that she had almost stopped crumbling with the loss of him. So time was irrelevant.
After she had first found out about Charles and Georgie she tried to find out more. But there was little to discover. There was no more than the basics she already knew. She had seen for herself that they were becoming close. She had known her husband's head was messed up, and she had known that despite the Army being the biggest gossip machine on earth only a loyal few had known about what Charles and Georgie had done.
That made it even harder. She was unable to hate him. Unable to slag him off in public. Her ire was hidden, and it only increased once she realised that they took their affair no further.
For Molly that fact made it even harder to understand. That Charles had thrown them away for a one off. A quick leg over whilst on tour. That they never wanted to or became a couple once she was out of the scene. That they had had sex and then they had nothing more.
Of course Molly kept a close watch on her love rival. Trawled Facebook and RAMC bulletins. She knew Georgie had stayed in the Army after that last eventful tour, and just in the same way she knew that Charles' metal health was eventually tackled by those above. And she knew all of this from a distance.
Far away.
Accepting very quickly a new placement up in the North of England. As far away from the risk of gossip and the disaster of a marriage that she could get.
Life had been moving on. To a fashion. She had very few friends. Molly no longer wanted or needed them. She had her job. A job she was still so very good at. She had a room in the barracks which she made her own, and stayed away from any form of relationship or questions about her past.
She knew she was seen as a mystery to many. She was seen as a loner but she didn't care. She never wanted to be hurt as she had been hurt before again.
As the day wore on she became slightly less drugged up and more curious. The staff moved around her delicately and avoided her questions.
She also started to wonder about Charles. Whether she'd ever see him again. Whether his visit last night might have been a one off.
By the time the afternoon came though she saw him walking hesitantly down towards her room. He knocked and when she didn't turn him away with her sharp tongue he stepped in.
"Hey." He said. His whole body awkward and still. "How you feeling?"
"Like shit." She admitted. "And you being her ain't helping."
He winced at the harshness of her words.
"Brought you some things." He offered dropping a bag of newly bought night clothes and cosmetics on the locker top. "Hope they are still the right brands and stuff."
"Why you here?" She almost shouted.
"I told you last night." He stood arms folded at the foot of her bed. "I was still down as your in case of emergency."
"Yes I know what you said." She snapped. "But why did you come?"
"Because you were hurt. You needed me. Your parents aren't able to be back for another day or so." He answered truthfully. Then foolishly added. "Cause you're still my wife...at least in the eyes of the law."
That was too much for her.
"Get out." She cried. "Get out." She picked up a complimentary hair brush from her table and threw it at him. "Just get out."
And so he did. Now quickly moving down the corridor. Ashamed of the attention he was receiving from the staff and other patients. Ashamed of how he had hurt her, and sad at how she was still hurt by what he did. Ashamed, totally ashamed, as he was every day of his life, of what he had done to her.
It still was too much for her. It still hurt and although she had told him to leave she missed him. She cried that night and for several days to follow. She knew he wouldn't come back. That she had scared him away with her anger and hate. She knew he'd be too proud to return. And so she cried and mourned his loss all over again.
She knew she had to do this. She knew she now had to accept that she had no choice. Her life was unravelling and her choices were of late questionable and were now limited.
"You ready to go Mols?" Her Dad asked. Grabbing a small bag.
She nodded and as the tears came again her Dad threw his arm around her.
"Come on Mols it's for the best you know that?"
"I know." She sniffed. Then taking one last look around her old childhood bedroom she picked up a bag and headed down the stairs.
It had been four months since the accident.
A car crash was how they described it. But it was so much more. It was so cruel; because of that accident two people lost their lives.
Everybody had said she was lucky, and some days she knew that she was. Some days. Most days she didn't feel that. Most days she just felt crushed by the guilt.
The police said it was a faultless incident. No blame was laid at anyone's feet. Molly's car going one way, the other car coming towards her. It's occupants, a mother and a small child smashed into hers. It was a dark night, the rain was heavy, the road was wet and greasy. Breaking distances were long and hard. It was simply an accident.
Yet no matter how many times she was told this she still couldn't stop the guilt. She had lived. Survived. While the other car's occupants hadn't, and a family had been destroyed.
The physical wounds healed. The cast and pins now off the legs. Cracks, scars had repaired, but she was left with a limp. The metal scars she tried to hide. The physical ones she couldn't.
The Army saw it all, and she knew that they knew that she was struggling. That she needed help. And so after two months of recovering and living at her parent's home she now was moving on to a stint of rehabilitation at Hedley Court.
The thought of something new terrified her, but she knew that she wasn't functioning right. She knew that she wasn't making right decisions anymore and accepted the forces invite to rehab with as little grace as it was given.
Her family knew too. Each and every night she was haunted by nightmares of the crash. Her sleep pattern was ruined and the house hold suffered.
Still she wouldn't have faced it at all had it not been for Bella. Her sister who told her exactly how it was. Her Bella who had stopped her from making one of the worst decisions of her life as she rescued her from a drunken liaison with Artan before it went too far. That's when she knew her life was starting to spiral out of her control.
"It's quite nice here ain't it?" Her mother enthused looking around the small room that was to be Molly's for the duration of her stay.
"It's alright." She repeated half heatedly.
Her mum pulled her in for a hug.
"You will try won't you Mols?" She asked. "You know properly!"
"I am not crazy mum!" She shot back, and as soon as she said the memory of somebody long ago saying that to her rang in her head. And so she conceded. "But yeah I will. I'll try."
"It's just I worry. I don't think it's just your leg that needs some help." Her Mum continued, and then turned and left.
Then she was alone. She stayed in her room. Lay for hours just staring at the ceiling. Missing the evening meal time. Missing the induction talk. She just wanted to be alone.
There was a gentle knock on her door hours later and as she still had pride she attempted to wipe the tear lines of self pity that were on her face, before she stepped over to open her door.
"Hi." He stood there looking so very unsure of himself. His presence made her gasp. "I thought I'd best come and let you know that I'm here too... you know before it got awkward." He stated.
For the first time in a long time Molly wasn't sure what to say. For standing in front of her was Charles.
He continued his explanation.
"I've been here for a couple of weeks... go home soon... so don't worry we'll won't have to see each other too much." He weakly smiled. "I'm just getting a little bit more therapy for this and this." He said quietly as he tapped his leg and then his head.
She remained mute in front of him. That didn't stop him.
"I saw your name listed on one of the exercise sessions boards for tomorrow... so I thought...you know?"
He noted her face was blotchy with tear stains, and even though they hadn't talked since that day in the hospital, he still wanted to reach out to hold her. Yet her words then and her stance now made it very obvious she wanted nothing more to do with him, and the silence reinforced that.
"Anyway just wanted you to know. I'll stay out of your way. We don't need to see each other. I'll be gone in a few days anyway so don't worry." He turned away and left, and she hadn't said one single word.
He was true to his word. She knew he would; that he'd purposefully stayed out of her way. She very rarely saw him only occasionally catching a glimpse of him every now and then. He made no conversation with her. He approached her no more. And she started to settle into a routine. Knowing that to talk to him, to spend time with him was a dangerous idea to consider.
And so with typical Molly Dawes stamina she focused up and excelled. On the physical side of a rehab at least. Her progress was good, the muscles to her leg becoming stronger and more responsive.
However whenever the crash was mentioned. Whenever they mentioned the accident, she would clam up. She sort no counsel. She accepted no help. She kept herself away from the others in her free time. She knew she was shutting herself off.
It was little things that triggered off her guilt sometimes, and she had become a master of trying to hide it. Focusing on something else to draw the attention away from the real problem.
Swimming. That's what she did a lot now a days. She swam as much as she could. A skill and passion Charles had once taught and shared with her. The PT instructors delighted as this physical activity was perfect for her.
And so she spent hours in the pool, each morning and night. Always going when she knew it would be empty, and usually it was the perfect therapy. The repetition of the motion helped to occupy her mind enough to stop thinking.
That was though until tonight. Tonight for some reason was different. Every time she closed her eyes in the water, stretched her arms, moved, she saw the car lights, heard the noise of the smash, felt the force of her impact.
She kept swimming though but soon it became too much. Her already ragged breathing from the exercise was mingled with sobs. Her mouth filled with water and she began to choke. Arms flailing, breath escaping from her. The more she panicked the more she got into trouble in the deep water of the deserted pool.
She struggled for minutes and then stopped. The blissfulness of the warm water taking her under gave her a strange sense of calm. So briefly, ever so briefly, she had no fight left in her and so didn't try. She knew she was giving in but in that moment she just didn't care.
"For fucks sake." Was all she suddenly heard and she felt her body being lifted from the pool onto its side.
She was immediately carried coughing and sobbing onto the bench where she was roughly wrapped in her towel and placed on his lap.
"What the fuck do you think you were doing?" The angry voice asked, quietly and full of fear.
She was unable to speak. She was unable to do anything except feel shame and a contentment too. For here she was wrapped in her towel, held in the arms of Charles. And for one minute she didn't care he was semi naked in his swimmers and she was a snotty hiccupping mess. All she knew was that it felt so good to be held in his arms again. To rest her head on his bare chest and to breath in that unmistakeable smell of her husband. The man who cheated on her, but the man she also knew she still loved.
Slowly he walked her back to her room. No words were spoken until he sat her down uncomplaining and willingly on her bed.
"You ok?" He asked as he busied himself making her a hot drink. "Is there anything I can do?"
"No fine thank you." She said in a small voice as she pulled on a sweatshirt over her damp costume.
"What happened?" He asked as he cautiously sat next to her on the bed edge. "You didn't even try to surface."
"I don't know." She admitted. "Think I was just thinking too much... and you know.. go a bit messed up. "
"Thinking about what?" He asked. And when she didn't answer he offered. "The accident?"
Biting her lip she nodded.
"Pretty much all I think about." She said. "It was my fault."
He turned and looked puzzled.
"I thought the police said it was an accident." Even though not part of her life he still found ways to know all that he could. He cared to much not to.
"Yeah I know what the Police said." She snapped then sighed. "But that doesn't make it right though does it? I mean I might have been distracted or reaching over for something."
"You still can't remember?" He added. "About what happened."
She shook her head.
"Not much, not the important things like why or how."
She started to cry again.
"I just feel so guilty." And on reflex her head rested on his shoulders and he stretched his arm out to hold her.
"You can't blame yourself." He said quietly. "You can't keep this in either Molly. It will eat you up. Destroy you." His lips ghosted a small kiss to the top of her wet hair, but that was all. And the tight twirling feeling in the pit of her stomach as he did so had nothing to do with the water she had swallowed.
His words reminded her of all the stupid things she had done with her life in the past months. The too many late drunken nights with so called old friends. The offers of help she had shot down. The family she had made to suffer along with her.
"Have you ever." She started off and hiccupped as the remains of her unhappiness left her body. "Done something so stupid that you just wish you could take it back?" She stopped suddenly as she realised what she had said, and she knew it was the wrong thing.
He stood instantly. Pulling away from her. His eyes cast down looking at the carpet on the bedroom floor in front of him.
"I think you know the answer to that." He said with a steely voice.
"Oh yes sorry didn't mean that...it's just."
"I know you didn't." But still he sounded hurt.
There was silence and awkwardness between them..
"It's just."
Expectedly his eyebrows rose to listen to what she had to say.
She continued.
"Sometimes, some days are just so hard."
"Yeah I know I've been there." He admitted. He took in a huge breath. "I think you may need to talk to someone Molly. I think you may need some help."
She noted his words and they shocked her.
"You have got to be joking me?" She said seriously and with force.
With this he straightened up, raising his arms in defense and walked to the bedroom door.
"I'm just trying to help." He said looking her in the eyes. His look intense and caring. "Think about it."
He then suddenly shifted and turned to leave.
"Don't worry I won't tell anyone." He offered. "About tonight. Besides I leave in the morning. I'm out of here. Till next time."
She turned and looked up at him and briefly nodded.
"Okay. Bye." And then she turned away.
She heard him leave her doorway. She heard him walk down the corridor but she did nothing. She didn't follow him, she didn't, but she knew, she knew that she really wanted to.
She knew that she needed something more than what she had and she knew that maybe that something had just walked down the corridor away from her once again.