Thank you for your brilliant reviews on the last couple of chapters... I've loved reading them and seeing where you think the story might go next. I know I've said it before, but receiving reviews and knowing that people are engaged in the stories I write is hugely motivating to keep going. I may struggle to update again before the weekend, so here is a little Monday morning bonus.
FIVE YEARS
Chapter 17
They're lying side by side on his bed, each catching their breath and in only a partial state of undress, such was their frantic need to connect. The whole thing was over in a few intense minutes.
"Bloody hell Dawesy."
"Sorry, think that was my pregnancy hormones running wild again… and my memories."
"Ditto"
Hearing him say that word brings back the first time he ever used it. She remembers being in Camp Bastion towards the end of their tour. She'd been sat in the mess tent with Qaseem and she'd seen him just outside talking to Kinders. She'd excused herself and gone up to him, and despite the very public setting, had dangerously indulged in a bit of, what she'd thought was, harmless flirting. She'd told him that sometimes she didn't know how she managed to keep her hands off him. He'd laughed, looked at her in a way which had made her insides flip, and then replied with 'ditto'. She'd playfully lambasted him, told him she'd expected something a little more romantic than 'bleeding ditto'. He'd gone all serious and told her that they'd agreed to wait out which had upset her as they'd done nothing but wait out and although she knew it was the right thing to do, it was killing her. She'd lost it slightly and challenged him to tell her if they were a mistake, if he was regretting them. She remembers the look of turmoil on his face.
She remembers the first time she'd used the word, in the compound at the bridge, just before the mission to apprehend Badrai. She remembers how they'd cleared the awkward air between them after she'd discovered he was married and had a child, how he had told her that he wanted her to be the last thing he saw and how she'd responded with 'ditto' just before he'd kissed her for the very first time.
She remembers how the strange little word has become 'their' special word, their way of communicating their true feelings, particularly when they can't express them publicly and during the times they've been apart because of work.
She strokes the 'new' tattoo near her hip, the one she had discovered just a few days earlier in hospital and remembers getting it done, as a surprise for him, just before their wedding. She remembers his delight at finding it when he'd undressed her on their wedding night.
"Ditto?"
He laughs and clarifies, "Well, the memories, not the pregnancy hormones… obviously."
She rolls over to face him, propping herself up on one elbow.
"No, I mean… ditto… I remember ditto… I remember bleeding ditto."
In one swift movement, he's facing her and gathering her into a happy embrace.
-OG-
She starts to rearrange the clothes she's still wearing and makes to get up to locate the ones they've discarded. He pulls her back down, locking her in a tight hug and placing a kiss on the top of her head. She vainly attempts to wiggle free.
"We really need to go downstairs… I'm don't think "freshening up" usually takes this long."
"It's fine, don't worry. Mum won't care, although she will know what we've been up to."
She manages to roll to face him.
"What?"
"Oh yeah, that was classic mum downstairs earlier. She saw right through us."
She groans.
"Oh no, now I'm mortified. How can I go downstairs and face her?"
He places light kiss on her lips.
"Like you always do."
"But I don't know how I normally am, do I?"
"Just be yourself, that's who you've always been. That's who she knows and loves, who I know and love."
-OG-
She follows him into the kitchen, knowing she'll recognise the room. There's something about being here which is triggering her memory of happy times spent in this house. She takes in the large table laden with food and can visualise similar casual meal-times sat around the table over the years. She can recollect people chatting and laughing, even though she can't quite remember who they all are.
Liz is sat at the head of the table, reading a book and starts to get up when they come in.
"Ah, there you are! Come, sit down. Grab a plate and help yourselves. Hope you're hungry! Molly can I get you that cuppa now? Charlie – a coffee?"
He puts a hand on his mum's shoulder.
"Stay where you are Mum, I'll make the drinks."
Liz doesn't make any effort to argue and squeezes his hand in thanks.
She takes a seat adjacent to his mum and takes a plate from the pile in the middle of the table.
"Liz, this looks amazing. I hope you haven't gone to too much trouble."
"I am sure Charlie has told you, if you don't remember, that I love nothing more than entertaining and cooking up a storm."
"Well thank you… I am starving actually"
"Dig in then, don't be shy!"
"Thanks, but when is everyone else turning up? There's enough food here to feed all of 2-Section!"
She immediately registers the look of shocked surprise on Liz's face at her comment and out of the corner of her eye can see Charles' shoulders quivering in amusement. She holds up a hand to her mouth, in apology.
"Oh, I am so sorry Liz. That was really rude."
Liz laughs and smiles kindly at her.
"Not at all! Thank god, I'm just relieved. That's the sort of thing the Molly I know would say…. you're someone who refreshingly tells it like it is! Yes, looking at it all, I have gone slightly over the top, haven't I! Well, I'll be sending you home tomorrow with plenty of left-overs!"
He brings three steaming mugs over to the table, sits down next to his wife and takes a plate.
"Where's Dad, Mum?"
"Oh, he had to go up to London first thing for a meeting on a new instruction. He keeps telling me that he's going to stop taking on new cases and retire properly, but I don't see much evidence of it so far. Looking at the time, I imagine right now he's having a long, probably mostly liquid, lunch in that blasted club of his with some of his old cronies. He has however promised to be back in time for pre-dinner drinks and won't dare be late. Now, what time is the restaurant booked for?"
"Oh shit, I meant to do it this morning, but I totally forgot."
He notes his mum's look of astonishment at his uncharacteristic error, knowing that she'll most likely question him on it later.
"I'll call Eduardo, I'm sure they'll be able to fit you in. What time would suit…8.30/9?"
"Yeah, I think that would work. Molly, is that ok for you, not too late?"
"Sounds fine… I might gonna need to have a little nap this afternoon though."
He's aware his mum is closely observing their conversation and feels the need to clarify for her.
"Just because of the head injury."
His mum nods, but he can tell from the look on her face that her suspicion is piqued.
"Of course, she must be careful to take it very easy and get plenty of rest."
"She is mum, don't fuss."
"I will fuss as much as I like Charles James, Molly is my favourite daughter-in-law."
"Mum! I think you'll find she is your only daughter-in-law."
"Well, all the more reason."
She's been watching the exchange between mother and son in bemused silence.
"Erm, hello you two? I am actually sitting here you know!"
-OG-
They are sat cuddled together on the comfortable sofa, in a contented post-lunch slump, in the spacious informal living room, known in the family as the snug. Many years ago it was his playroom and now is the place his parents retire to in the evening to watch TV, read and generally relax. There's also an even larger formal sitting room which is mostly used for entertaining and always houses a huge tree at Christmas.
"It's weird you know, but I feel so comfortable here and just seem to know my way around the house."
"Not really that weird. We pretty much lived here for the two years before we got married."
"We did?"
"Well yes, I mean we both spent time at barracks and on tour, but this is where we came to be together, away from the Army. Sam lives close-by in Bristol. It's not too bad a drive from Aldershot if you get the timing right. My parents spend time in Italy when Dad is between cases. The house is big. So it made sense."
"It is an amazing place…"
"Well, maybe we'll live here one day. The house has been in my family ever since it was built in the 1770s."
"You're joking right?"
"No, my dad's side of the family were quite wealthy, but his father made some dodgy investments over the years and this house is pretty much all that there was left. It was gifted to my parents on their wedding."
"Sounds like you might be quite a catch then!"
"Maybe, I had what might look from the outside to be a privileged upbringing, but my parents have led by example; they've both always worked and instilled a strong work ethic in me too. Nothing was ever really handed to me on a plate when I was growing up. Admittedly my dad has done very well in his field of law, so they're comfortable. They own a house on Lake Garda in Italy; you love it there by the way. They also helped us out with the deposit on the cottage too and paid for most of the wedding."
"Wow. That was incredibly generous of them!"
"Well, they wanted to…. and besides the combined salaries of a newly promoted Lance Corporal and a divorced Captain didn't go that far."
"I'd like to hear about our wedding. We got married here in Bath, yes?""
"Yes, we did. 3pm, Friday 26 March 2015 at the Bailbrook House Hotel, which is a couple of miles from here."
"I'm kind of surprised that we didn't do it London?"
"We talked about it, but there wasn't a particular venue that you felt strongly about and apart your family, there wasn't anyone from Newham you wanted to invite. Neither of us were fussed about a church wedding; I'd done that first time around. Our guest list was fairly modest – 70 friends and family. The Bailbrook was the perfect choice."
He disentangles himself from her, stands up and walks over to the bookshelf, grabbing a leather-bound photo album, identical to the one they've got a home. He sits back down and opens the album.
"Here, you made an album for my parents."
-OG-