FIVE YEARS
Chapter 6
"…I was med-evac'd back to Bastion, then on to QEH. I have the scars to prove it. You saved my life Molly."
They've spent all evening reminiscing about Afghanistan and he's explained to her the sequence of events which ultimately brought them together. They've laughed, a lot, as they talked about 2-Section's ridiculous antics and there have been intense moments as he'd recalled the more difficult memories. She's asked questions, sought clarification for some of the more incredible parts of the story, but mostly just listened to him weave a colourful and vivid picture of the tour. He's been a patient and brilliant narrator and given what he's revealed to her about some of his own appalling behaviour, she doesn't have the impression that he's been anything but truthful with her about what happened. It helps that the memory of Afghan itself is recent for her and as she listened to him speak, she easily found herself transported back to the FOB, Bashira's village, and the mountain checkpoint. Many of the people he talked about are still forefront in her own memory, and it is incredible to think that she hasn't seen some of them in five years.
He's looking at her, expectantly, waiting for her response.
"Please, say, something Molly."
"Thank you….. I do believe you, but at the same time it is all a bit…. unbelievable… if you know what I mean?
She tries to stifle a yawn but doesn't manage it successfully.
"I think I need to go to bed, to sleep on it and think about what you've told me. I'm sure I'll have more questions in the morning… if that is ok?"
"Of-course, I understand, let me show you upstairs."
She follows him up the to the first-floor landing, where there are four doors. He pushes open the one at the top of the stairs.
"The bathroom."
He guides her to the door at the front of the house, revealing a nicely proportioned master bedroom which is obviously their room.
"I thought you could have our room and….. I'll take the spare next door."
She hesitates in the doorway.
"I don't mind having the spare room."
"No, it's ok. All your stuff is in our bedroom, you'll be more comfortable."
She goes in, turns around and gives him a small smile of thanks as she starts to close the door.
"Ok….. well…. in that case… goodnight. I'm so tired, I'll be asleep…"
He smiles, instinctively knowing what she's about to say, a phrase he heard her first use in Afghan and many times since.
"Before the springs hit the floor?"
She stops and gives him a surprised grin.
"Yes… as me old granddad used to say. Goodnight Charles."
"Goodnight Molly."
He watches as she closes the door and stands on the landing for a few moments before heading back downstairs.
-OG-
He tidies up the remnants of their evening, loading and setting off the dishwasher before checking that the windows are closed and the doors are locked, as is his habit every night.
He turns off almost all the lights in the kitchen before he pours himself a small glass of scotch and downs it in one. He's not usually one to drink alone, but he's feeling the stress of the last few days and knows he needs something to help him relax a little before attempting to hit the sack. In other circumstances, he would go for a lung-bustingly hard late night run or more likely than not, Molly would instinctively know what he needed and offer him one of her amazing neck massages which would almost certainly lead to a different sort of exercise. He miserably tries to push away the thought of being with her like that, knowing that they are a long way away from rekindling that element of their relationship.
He pours a second measure and sits down at the island and reflects on the evening. In many ways it had felt so normal to be laughing and joking with her. He'd enjoyed talking about Afghanistan and telling her the story of their tour, but he can't help wondering if he did the right thing by withholding a few key details. He'd done it with the very best intentions, not wanting to overload and burden her with the more difficult and painful memories. He'd been honest about his own appalling behaviour and hadn't tried to paint it in any other way than it had been, but conscious of her previous comments about children, he'd stopped short of telling her about Sam although he had explained about being separated from Rebecca at the time of the tour. He'd also omitted to mention anything about Smurf's death when she'd asked if they were still in contact with any of 2 Section and had expressed an interest in arranging a meet up with them soon.
He knows he will have to deal with these questions soon enough. There are pictures of Sam around the house and the box room upstairs clearly belongs to a ten-year old boy. It's also going to be the anniversary of Smurf's death in a few weeks' time and she always makes a trip to Wales to pay her respects to Candy, Smurf's mum, although whether she'll want to this year given she doesn't remember her, is another matter.
He stands-up, knocks back the last of his drink and hopes that she'll understand and forgive him.
-OG-
Despite earlier yawns and tiredness, unusually for her sleep is not forthcoming. In fact she is lying in bed, wide awake and wired after their evening together. As well as filling in her lost memories, she'd thoroughly enjoyed just being with him, spending time in his company, getting to know him in a different way. It felt surprisingly comfortable and normal… and now being apart from him just feels wrong and…. well abnormal.
She's listens to him potter about downstairs for a while before coming up. She can hear him using the bathroom and the squeak of floorboards as he crosses the landing. She is briefly hopeful that he might come and check on her, but is disappointed when she hears the spare room door close and the sound of him presumably settling into bed.
Although her own bed is extremely comfortable, not to mention bleeding gigantic, she's not really used to being on her own or having such a big space to herself. At home, growing up, she shared a room and bunkbed with her sister Bella and since joining the Army she's always been in a single bed or cot, in a dorm of some sort. Even as the only female at the FOB she had still preferred sleeping in with the lads at night, although she had been known to sometimes snatch a few minutes shut-eye in the med-tent between patrols.
She flicks on the bedside light and looks around the room. Although she knows it is her room, when she had first closed the door she'd felt strange about nosing around and had just jumped into bed. Now, given that sleep is evading her, she figures she may as well get acquainted with her belongings.
As well as the bed, there are matching bedside tables, two sets of drawers and a couple of built in wardrobes. The room reflects the rest of the house; tidy, homely but functional. Apart from a few framed pictures, there isn't much in the way of unnecessary clutter. She easily identifies her drawers due to the small assortment of hairbrushes, combs, grips and beauty products stored on top. She briefly looks through the drawers – underwear, t-shirts, sports gear, casual clothes and a small collection of old West Ham shirts… all neatly folded and orderly. She pulls out her favourite shirt and puts it on. She takes a lucky guess on which wardrobe belongs to her and finds a rail jam-packed with uniform and some smart looking clothes and pretty dresses, as well as a number of shoe boxes.
She opens the other wardrobe, finding a similar assortment of his uniforms, a few suits, shirts and smart clothes. She moves onto his drawers, noting a similar order to his clothing as found in hers. He doesn't have quite the same level of beauty products, but she spots a fancy looking moisturiser and a bottle of expensive looking aftershave. She takes the top off the aftershave, takes a sniff and is suddenly hit by a vivid but powerful recollection of being held closely by him, smelling his aftershave, dancing together surrounded by lots of smiling and happy faces. As quickly as it comes, the memory is gone again but there is no denying that it happened…. she remembered something.
-OG-
She gently knocks on his door before entering the darkened room and approaching the bed.
"Charles…. are you awake?
He rolls over, instantly alert.
"Yes, are you ok?"
"Yes…. No…. I'm not sure…. I don't think I want to be alone tonight…. would you mind if I joined you?"
"No, of course not…. that would make me very happy….. but... how about I join you instead? I've realised I'm a bit too bloody tall for this bed and besides there's more room in our bed …. would that be ok?"
"Yes, I'd like that."
-OG-