Maybe
Chapter 4
She just looked up and stared at him. Shocked. She'd expected something, but not this.
"Say that again?" She asked him.
Slowly he repeated the words he had just spoken, and even the second time of hearing them she was still as shocked.
It had been four month of dating Bill, and things had been ticking along quite nicely. Molly would be the first to admit it wasn't a grand love affair to be proud of, but it was something. It was a lot more than she had had for a long time, and she was proud she was trying. That they both were.
Tonight he'd suggested he'd cook for her and invited her over. That should have been her first clue. She should have known that tonight was special.
In those four months with Bill she had very rarely been invited to stayed over at his. It wasn't something he encouraged. Her presence in his space always seemed to add more pressure on him and their relationship. Not that Molly minded too much. Her last few stay overs had had been very disappointing. Bill blaming his poor performance on being distracted by his flat mates. So she rarely stayed or even visited his.
Yet tonight he had insisted she came over and he'd cook her a meal. He even added onto the invitation shakily that she could stay over, but only if she wanted to. Right there and then that's when she should have realised what was going to happen. That he had a declaration.
So sitting there in his kitchen. Her fork half full of the spaghetti he had prepared for them; she cursed herself inwardly for not realising this was coming.
"Say something?" He asked of her. "Please?"
Her eyes grew wide and she just shook her head.
"It's the opportunity of a life time." Bill explained and he reached across the table to hold her hand. "I can't say no."
"I get that." She added slowly. "I really do. Just surprised that's all."
"Well I didn't want to say anything until I was sure." He admitted.
"Ok." Molly felt stupid. He'd sorted it all, had been doing so for weeks, all without a single hint or word to her.
"We can still see each other." He offered and pulled his hand away from hers as he heard the angry snort come from her.
"How's that gonna work then Bill?" She asked. "You over there in Northern Ireland and me still here in London?"
"Well. There's weekends, and holidays, and stuff." He suggested. Not too convincingly.
"Bill we struggle now to meet. Both have crazy shift patterns. How we gonna manage with us in different countries?"
Bill sat back and looked at her. Realising the truthfulness of her words.
"Honestly Mols. I didn't think you'd be that bothered." He said plainly. Surprised by the disappointment she was showing.
She stopped mid shovel of her food into her mouth. Despite it all; the food he'd cooked was delicious. She considered his words.
He was right. She was pissed off he hadn't told her. That he'd surprised her with the news of his new permanent job in Northern Ireland, but that was it. It was a mild inconvenience, and irritation, but that was all. He hadn't hurt her.
He continued as she remained silent.
"I mean. You and me Mols. It's been nice, and I'll miss you. Hope that when we can...we can still hook up but..." He looked at her sadly.
"I know but still..." She attempted.
"Mols." Then he smiled sadly at her. "One day whoever it was who broke your heart... well you'll forget him... get over him... and then who knows. Maybe?"
Her head whipped up.
"I... what did you mean... I'm fine... you and me..."
He stopped her.
"Mols we both know that you and me wasn't it. Well not for you, and maybe not for me either. I guess."
He stood and walked over to her and place a hand on her shoulder.
"I like you Mols I really do, just you're not ready. Not yet."
Tears surprisingly came to her eyes.
"I am." She sobbed out. "Well I thought I was. Was sure I was." Then looked at him with the most honesty she'd ever had and admitted. "I guess not?"
"No." He said with a smile. "I guess not. And I can't put my life on hold waiting for you to be ready. You know that right?"
"I know." She said and angrily brushed the tears away. He was right of course. What right did she have to ask him that?
"But I'll miss you." He kindly smiled. Squatting down in front of her. "Kind of got used to being with you. But this is a hell of an opportunity. I can't…."
She kindly placed a hand to either side of his face.
"I know. I understand. Really." And kissed him gently on the lips in an attempt to absolve them both of them guilt they were feeling.
She left not long after that. There's was little else to say. As she went to leave they held onto each other.
"I'm sorry." She whispered again.
"I'm not." He whispered back onto her head as they hugged. "I had fun. Never met a girl like you, but you're just not the right girl for me. Not now anyway."
She pulled away.
"You know... I mean everything...you, me, us...it was real. I never pretended. Thought you could be the one."
"Hell." Bill laughed. "I know Mols don't beat yourself up."
"So this is good bye?" She asked rather than said.
"Doesn't have to be. I've a few weeks before I leave. Could meet up?"
"Yes. Maybe." She kissed him on the cheek. "I'd like that."
They met one twice after that night. Friendly and at ease. With all expectations off the table they actually got on better again, as friends, and Molly saw how excited he was with his choice and new life. She couldn't regret his decision at all. They promised, as expected, to stay friends and to stay in touch, and that truly suited her. She couldn't be anything but happy for him, and ultimately the friendship she had gained out of all of this. She had tried, but hadn't succeeded. Well not this time at least. They was always next time.
She bounced back. It was an annoyance Bill moving away, not a heartache. But she missed him and found that she had time on her hands once again. Her friends rallied around, expecting her to be heart broken, and a girls holiday was arranged to 'pull her through' the nicest of break ups they'd ever seen. She appreciated them, and looked forward to the holiday despite its reason. It was something else in her life to look forward too.
The months went by, and this year she chose not to go. The anniversary of Elvis' death found her once again free, but she purposely chose to stay away on the actual day. Her greatest fear was she'd bump into Charles. Not trusting him to stay away as he had done so in the past. Knowing how he'd work, and how there was a high chance he'd show up again, and that was not what she wanted. She was trying to work him out of her life, not into it.
So she marked the day silently and away from his special spot.
Yet she couldn't forget her friend completely and before the end of the week was out she found herself once again on the hot noisy bus, taking the easy way up to remember her friend. Six days late but she knew Elvis would understand.
Once again the weather was awful and the bus emptied as she got closer to the final stop. Even though she knew the chances were slim, remote even, she still was on her guard that Charles might pop up again.
He didn't and she was thankful for that. It had been a whole year since she had last seen him and she still felt in no hurry to meet him again.
She climbed the route silently and with determination. Her joints aching more than usual. A cold that had been lingering seemed to be getting the better of her and her fitness. She thought of all the memories she had shared with Elvis. All the laughs and drama that had gone on within his life. She knew exactly what she was going to say to him this year. She knew exactly how she was going to enjoy her time alone with him.
As she got near she started to root in her bag for this year's offering.
Salted caramel muffins.
A new creation and one she was sure Elvis would have loved. It was a risk though. She'd never made them before when he was alive. However she was certain though that Charles would not have liked them, and that thought seriously influenced her decision to go through with her creation. She was making them for Elvis, not for Charles.
Despite all this though she still had packed the traditional three cakes as normal. One for Elvis, one for her...and one for Charles Regardless of how they would be received.
As she got to the top, to the large stone she'd always sat down on, her heart stilled. It wasn't empty.
There placed delicately on the stone was a soaked white envelope and a sodden cookie, it's protective paper obviously had blown away. As she approached she saw the offerings more closely, but even before she could identity it she knew what it would be. A double chocolate chip cookie if she wasn't mistake.
Next to the cookie was a letter. This letter wasn't addressed to her, and that half surprised her. This letter was addressed to Elvis, and she instantly recognised the hand writing. It was to Elvis. From Charles.
She settled herself down next to his offerings appreciating that they had been exposed to the damp weather for days. He had been there. He was no longer there. No longer a threat to her solitude, so there was no rush. He had so obviously been and gone.
She sat for a while wondering how long he had waited on that day for her to arrive, and as to how disappointed he would have been when he finally left without seeing her. It made her feel good. To know she had disappointed him for once. It felt good that she still held some power.
Her flask of tea revived her after the long walk, and as she drank she played with the letter. Addressed to their dear dead friend. She hadn't expected this and she hadn't expected the curiosity she had building inside of her to find out what he had wrote in this letter.
The letter he had wrote to her all those many months ago still remained unopened. She felt no need to open it these days any more, while the letter he wrote to his dead friend she found she could hardly stop herself from opening it.
But she did. Ashamed at her actions, but not halting them once. She figured Charles owed her at least for this indiscretion.
Elvis, the letter began in Charles' hand writing.
Don't think I've ever written to you before!
Odd that when you think how close we were, and what a good mate you were to me, and all the tours we did, we never wrote.
I regret that now. To have something that we once shared would be good.
Seems silly therefore to do it now; now you're no longer here...but what can I say...I wanted to.
I miss you.
I fucked up. Sorry pal. You know what I did; and I regret it every single time I allow myself to think about it.
I hurt you.
I hurt Molly.
I hurt Georgie.
I hurt me.
Sorry.
I guess somewhere up there you're looking down on me and shaking your head. Pissed off with me.
Rightly so.
Annoyed that when I had finally got my life sorted again, after Rebecca, I go and mess it all up.
I guess you know why it all happened too.
You left me mate, and that broke my heart and broke me. Not an excuse. The truth.
I didn't think it would hurt the way it did. But shit Elvis it did. Why the fuck did you have to die?
Anyway. I came here today to say sorry and to hope you'll forgive me.
I know you loved Molly as much as I did. As I do. And I know that because I hurt her, really hurt her, that you'll be pissed off with me about that too.
I can't say it enough mate...I'm sorry.
I even brought you some cookies.
Not as good as Molly's. I know that but I've tried.
That all I do now a days by the way... try.
Maybe one day I'll get it right...everything right.
Miss you pal.
Love Charlie
The tears poured down Molly's face. The sadness in the love letter that he had written to his best mate moved her. His ability to show how sorry and how vulnerable he was moved her. But then she started to laugh as she held onto the letter. Surprisingly happy he still knew her so well. The tears turned into ones of happiness and total amazement for at the very bottom of the letter, the post script said even more.
P.S Oh and buy the way I know these cookies are Molly's favourites too.
So I brought one along for her as well.
Hope when she does finally get here she sits down relaxes and enjoys it with you mate.
I miss you Molly and am sorry.
My love always. Your Charles. Xxx
She folded up the letter and smiled.
Everything hurt. She shifted her position to find one that was less uncomfortable than the one she was in. Then she lied.
"Mum I'm ok. Honest." She sniffed down the line. "It's just a twisted ankle. I can still hop about."
"Still Mols you've missed your holiday with your mates." Belinda said sadly. Knowing her daughter did not deserve this run of bad luck.
"Honestly Mum it's not a problem." But really she knew it was. She'd been looking forward to the post break up holiday with her friends. Some time to laugh again, but a small jump out of a Land Rover at work saw an end to that dream. A badly twisted ankle which meant her hobbling around on crutches for the next couple of weeks put paid to those plans. To top it all off she had a cold, and felt generally lousy. Her time a few days ago sitting on a cold damp rock, exposed to the elements had not helped.
Eventually she persuaded her Mum she was firstly fine and secondly to stay away. Molly was looking forward to the solitude and peace she'd had over the next two weeks while her friends were enjoying themselves without her. She had big plans. Huge plans and they all revolved around a box set and lots of crisps.
Finally she had just settled herself down when her mobile went again. Frantically looking for it in the under the cushions of the sofa she answered it without looking at who it was.
She believed she knew who it was. She didn't need to look. Few folks, but her immediate friends called her on the mobile these days and few disturbed her so frequently.
"Hello Mum!" She said with a pinch of sarcasm. "What can I do for you now?"
The calls from her guilty Mum were numerous throughout the day. Regular check-ups.
"Molly?" The timid voice said on the other line. "It's not your Mum. It's me."
She sat up bolt up and listened to him explain exactly why he was calling her. Why he was asking for her help. She listened at first angry, then sad. Realising just how much she missed him. Just how much they had all lost.
He needed her. He'd turned to her in his hour of need and she felt happy about that; though she was realistic about what it really meant. She knew he was desperate and that was why she was called and others weren't.
She calmed him down and promised him she'd be there for him. Then she started to get the plan in motion.
It was within the hour she saw herself hobbling up the steps of the police station, and as soon as she entered she saw him waiting.
He was white faced. Scared and ashamed. He looked frightened. It had been a long time since she'd seen him look so sad.
"Sorry." Were his first words to her. "I'm sorry Molly." And then the tears fell.
She limped forwards and instantly pulled him into her. He was tall. Taller than she remembered, of course he was, but he fell into her hug and embrace. Just like he always had.
"Hey. Come on we'll sort it." She cooed. "It's gonna be ok."
He pulled back. His dark brown eyes still swimming with tears and fear.
"Oh God what am I going to tell Dad?" He asked, totally panicked.
She started to move them both to the door.
"Sam." She said to Charles' son. Her ex step son, whom she still kept in touch with, despite everything. "Come home with me. We'll think it over. We'll sort something out."
He nodded and followed her as she slowly moved. Still shocked by the whole of the afternoons events. The afternoon and dare that had stated out as fun, but soon became anything but, as he was caught shoplifting.
Egged on by his friends he'd tried to pinch a pack of cheap lager from a local shop. He'd been caught. The police had been called and he'd been taken to the Police station with a caution. Too scared to call his Dad for help; he'd turned to Molly.
He hoped he'd got away with it. Hoped that by saying that Molly was his responsible adult that he could buy sometime before he told his Dad. He was wrong.
He'd almost gotten away with it, but as they got closer to the taxi Molly had called he caught sight of his Dad striding across the road. It was obvious as to why he was here. It was obvious that he knew. His face said it all.
"What the hell. Sam!" Charles bellowed out. "What the hell have you been up to you stupid boy?" Strict. Hard. Demanding. That was how Charles sounded.
Sam stopped by the taxi door having already helped Molly in. He turned and looked forwards towards his angry father.
"Where are you off to?" Charles shouted. "Didn't they tell you they had called me to come and get you?" Charles looked confused as he reached his son's side.
"Dad." Was all Sam could say.
Although tall like his Dad he was still only a 14 year old boy who had just had his first brush with the law. He was scared.
"Any way get out of the bloody taxi and..." His worlds stopped. His anger faded as surprise came up on him.
A head poked out of the taxi. A worryingly scared look on her face. She stepped out and allowed the taxi to go. She knew this was going to take some time.
"Molly?" He asked foolishly. Shocked by her appearance and her physical encumbrance.
She explained quickly as to why she was there, but got nothing from Charles but a confused look. He stood mute.
Then Sam tried to explain he'd called Molly rather than his Dad, and this time Molly watched as Charles' face went from misunderstanding to hurt. As he realised he was his son's second choice. As he realised his son still had a relationship with Molly, where he had none.
"Look I think I'll leave you to it." She said as Charles started to take it all in. Her foot ached. Her head throbbed from her cold, and she was unsure if her presence now was helping.
"Dad. I'm sorry." Sam said. And the tears fell. The realisation of what he'd done hitting him all over again.
Charles turned to his son with compassion. The strict shouty Captain mode had vanished. Knowing there was just too much to take in. To be said.
Holding on to his son's shoulder. He dipped his head slightly and made Sam look at him.
"It's ok. We'll sort it." He quietly said. His reassurance almost copying Molly's. "Don't worry son."
His kindness and gentleness made her heart melt. It was so familiar. He'd always been a good dad, and it had been one of the many things she had loved about him. One of the many things she'd loved about them. Their closeness, their love, their togetherness. She had loved being part of all of that, and missed it profoundly when it was ripped away from her.
To watch them together as he continued to show the love he had for his son made her sad. She missed being part of Team James.
"...go back to the car. I'll see you there." She heard Charles say as she stepped out of her daydream, and accepted the kiss and thanks from Sam as he did as he was instructed.
Now it was just the two of them alone.
Molly and Charles.
Just them. Something that would have thrilled her once, but now made her uncomfortable.
He turned to her after watching his son leave, a questioning look spread across his face.
"Are you ok?" He asked pointing to her crutches. "What's happened?"
"Just a twisted ankle that's all." She shrugged. Her voice think with congestion. "And a cold. Look I never... well I would have made him call you...you know that right... I wouldn't have kept it from you?"
"God Molly I know." He rushed out. "And thank you. For being there for him."
"It's Ok." She sadly added. "Still care about him."
They stood looking at each other. Both unsure.
"Well I'd best." She motioned with one crutch. Her intention to leave him obvious.
"Can I give you a lift?" He asked hopefully. "Least I can do."
The word no came out before she even thought about it and saw his nod his head as though it was expected. Her refusal didn't surprise him. Hurt him, but didn't surprise him.
"It would be no problem." He sadly added. "After all you're not too mobile." He nodded to her walking aids.
"No." She said with determination. Hating him seeing her weak. "You get off with Sam. He needs you."
Charles stuffed his hands in his pockets and scuffed his feet, but still managed to look at her. He knew she was ready to run from him again.
"It was good seeing you again Molly." He added.
"Yeah." Her flat reply came. Then looking over his shoulder at the park car Sam was sitting in she added. "Don't be too hard on him yeah? He's just a kid."
Charles blew out a breath realising the mess Sam was in and the consequences of his afternoons activities.
"I'll try. Think a bit of tough love might be in order though." He added but then saw Molly's face at his words and continued. "Mind you I might just leave that up to Rebecca to do that. She was always better at it that me."
Molly laughed and memories of their parenting skills they all had shared came flooding back to her. The good cop, bad cop, relationship they once had. Rebecca frequently taking on the bad cop role, much too her annoyance.
"You could say that." She smiled, then laughed.
Her laugh made him brave.
"I thought you might have called. After the letter." He pushed on. "Thought maybe..."
She bit her lip and shifted her weight on her crutches. Feeling uncomfortable with him.
"You should go. I should go." Was all she offered back.
His head snapped up and his body became straight and protective of itself.
"Yes. Ok. Right fine." He turned to leave, but he needed to say something more. "I miss you. Every single day, and I'll never be able to say sorry enough. I hurt you and lost you. Please Molly..."
She cut him off with a neutral.
"Bye Charles." Then turned and walked away.
He stood there alone and unable to move as he watched her slowly increase the distance between them. There was so much more he had to say. So much more he needed to say, but he knew his Molly, and he wondered if she'd ever give him a chance to do so.
Maybe Tina was right. Maybe he'd hurt her too much for there ever to be any hope of them again. Maybe.