Ooh, I'm enjoying making the most of lockdown by writing this and reading your comments... please keep the reviews coming.
FIVE YEARS
Chapter 3
She is sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware, of the shock which awaits her when she wakes up.
He is sat by her bedside trying to figure out how he's going to begin explaining everything to her. In the circumstances, it's painful to recall how much of a complete shit he was to her in the early days of that fateful tour and how he turned a blind eye to the rough time she was getting from the lads. Of-course, Molly has long-since forgiven him, if not necessarily allowed it to be forgotten. In fact, even after all these years, it is the source of much teasing, always at his expense, by their friends and family.
At the time he'd been convinced Molly was a bad apple, one of those soldiers who brings down the whole platoon. She had quickly and unequivocally proved him wrong and totally won the lads over when she had courageously crawled through a minefield to rescue Smurf, who at that point had been her main tormentor. He feels a pang of guilt at the memory of Smurf who became, over the duration of that tour, hopelessly in love with her and was the one person who truly suffered as a result of his and Molly's relationship. Poor Smurf who tragically died of a brain haemorrhage, shortly after the tour, in her arms in the middle of the pitch at her beloved West Ham. He wonders if she'll be spared remembering that particular memory.
It was only long after the tour, that he'd realised that his extreme early reaction to her had been a sub-conscious defence mechanism, because the truth is that from that first time their eyes had locked on the tarmac at Brize Norton, he'd been inexplicably attracted to her.
As the tour had progressed, he'd manufactured ways to spend time in her company. Initially allowing his feet to get in a dreadful state so that he would have a legitimate reason to visit her in the med tent, always keeping her close on patrols so they could chat, choosing her to sing a duet with him when it was 2-Section's turn to provide evening entertainment just so they would have to practice together, and later seeking her out around camp even if it was just to steal some of her Coco-Pops. As he'd got to know her properly, he'd fallen for her completely and by the time she was due, with Smurf, to go on two weeks R&R he'd realised he was in deep. The day of her departure had been horrific, they'd witnessed the aftermath of a green on green slaughter at an ANA checkpoint and she'd had to ID all the bodies, including a young boy she'd formed a friendship with. Back at base, he'd gone to see her in the med tent, ostensibly to tell her that transport was on the way to take her back to Bastion. He'd entered her tent and found her post-shower, towel drying her hair. He'd watched her, unannounced for a few moments, transfixed by her natural beauty. She'd been upset about the deaths of the ANA soldiers and he'd found himself completely off-guard. Caught in the emotion of the moment, he'd clumsily tried to convey how important she'd become to him, but they'd been interrupted. The two weeks she was away on R&R had been incredibly tough. He'd been glad she was away from danger, but the gossip was rife amongst the lads about what her and Smurf would be getting up. He'd utterly screwed everything up on her return, letting jealously get the better of him and effectively accusing her of sleeping with Smurf. Despite his appalling behaviour, on that last night in the FOB, she had sneaked into his tent when he was on watch and left a gift, a sleeve of his favourite Rosabaya coffee capsules, on his bed. He still doesn't know if he would ever have been brave enough to apologise and tell her how he felt, if she hadn't been the one to defy his orders the very next day. In perfect Molly style, she had followed him into an extremely dangerous situation in the middle of the Afghan desert as they investigated a sheet covered body, and exposed her true feelings, challenging him to do the same.
"Boss, I mean… Charles.."
"Molly….."
"What's going on? I know something is up, but they won't tell me. What's happened? Are the lads ok? I don't remember what happened…. why I am here…?"
He knows her too well and can tell that she is scared.
"Molly, do you trust me?"
"Yes, I trust you. I've told you before, I'm one hundred percent by your side, remember?"
"I do remember….. Molly, I'm going to tell you some things, which are going to be difficult to comprehend, but you have to trust me. You are going to be ok. We are going to be ok."
"We? What do you mean we?"
"Molly, you were in an accident three days ago, you hit your head and have sustained a type of amnesia which has made you forget some memories."
"I don't remember the accident, is that what you mean?"
"Not exactly…. you remember being on tour in Afghanistan, yes?"
"Yes, we must be about two months in I guess?"
"No, Molly…. that tour was five years ago."
He watches helplessly as she attempts to processes this information. She is completely still and silent for what feels like an eternity.
"Molly, please say something…."
She looks at him, her green eyes glistening with tears.
"What do you mean, five years ago… ?"
"That tour was in 2013 and it is now 2018."
"I…. I don't understand… if that is true, why are you here then?"
He takes a deep breath and tentatively takes her hand in his.
"I am here Molly because….. I am your husband… we are married, have been for three years."
He sees her eyes flick towards his wedding ring.
"Married?... you're shitting me yes? Is this some sort of 2-Section prank?"
"No Molly, it isn't a prank, it is the truth."
He lets go of her hand and searches in his trouser pocket, quickly finding what he's looking for. He gently opens her hand, and places a simple, but stunning emerald engagement ring and a platinum wedding ring in her palm.
"Look here, these are your rings, see the inscription inside the wedding ring, 'Charles 26.3.15'".
He pulls his own wedding ring off his finger. "Here, this is mine, 'Molly 26.3.15'".
She incredulously studies her rings, slowly trying them on for size, realising they are a perfect fit.
She gives him a mischievous look, which he recognises, loves dearly and which fills his heart with hope.
"Married…shit….. I didn't think you even particularly liked me."
He snorts with laughter at her assessment of the state of their relationship.
"A lot happened on that tour Molly, which I need to tell you about. But, we became very close, although nothing happened until we got home."
"Well you've always been a stickler for the rules, Sir."
He laughs again, although he can't be sure whether she is winding him up or whether the sir is involuntary.
"We started seeing each other and well….. here we are. We're married, we're happy, we're good for each other…. we have a great life together."
Her mind is spinning at the thought that she is married to the man in front of her. Of course, she has had thoughts about him, what woman wouldn't? He is probably, no definitely, the most attractive man she has ever known, but her, Molly Dawes, a gobby Private from East London, married to Captain Charles James? Why would someone like him, have ever gotten together with someone like her? What the bleeding hell happened on that tour?
Now she looks at him properly, she can see that he is different to how she remembers him. Older, maybe a bit less lean, but no less handsome. There is a softness to his manner, way of talking, which is new to her and there is no doubt that the way he looks at her is also different. His eyes, which once showed her contempt or at best exasperation, now reveal a warmth and intensity which makes her feel something else entirely.
"I know this is a lot to take in, but the doctor says we need to talk about the past to help you remember. When we get home, there are pictures to show you. Our families are desperate to see you. We will get through this, I promise."
"Charles….. if we're married…..."
"We are married."
"Do we have … any children?"
"No…. not yet…."
"Thank god, I don't want to be like my mum and have hundreds of the little bleeders running around me feet."
She almost misses the slight frown which crosses his face.
"Right…. well, err... we can talk about that later."
She has the distinct feeling she's just said something wrong, something to upset him. She's just beginning to comprehend the enormity of the news she has received and the implications of it. There are five years of her life that she has no recollection of. A man she barely knows is her husband, her lover, her confidant. He obviously cares for her deeply, and she has to assume that before the accident, she felt the same about him, but at this moment she just feels overwhelmed and at a distinct disadvantage. Her instinct is telling her she needs to run away, be on her own and sort out her nut, but instead she's stuck in this hospital bed.
"Oh, ok… look, I'm sorry, but I think I need some time to absorb all this…. I'm tired…. I need ….. actually, I don't know what I need. I'm sorry."
She abruptly rolls away from him and closes her eyes in an attempt to regain some control over her racing thoughts.
He stands up, rearranges her covers, before lovingly tucking a stray hair behind her ear. It's an instinctive action he has done hundreds of times before, but this time there is no mistaking her slight flinch at his touch.
He can't help feeling utterly rejected by her reaction, even though he knows he is being totally unreasonable and should have been more careful. He tries to sound positive as he speaks.
"Please don't apologise Molly. It's a lot to take in. We have plenty of time. Get some rest. The doctors want to keep you in for 24 hours for observations but then, we can go home."
He dejectedly sits down, lets out a slow breath as he puts his head into his hands and realises just how incredibly hard this is going to be.
-OG-