Lizard
Chapter 13
"Morning." He mumbled out low and teasingly into her ear as she played with the cup and spoon in front of her. He was pressed up close, closer than he should have been, and he could smell her uniqueness and it made him smile.
"Shitting hell Charles." She spun around and faced him.
They were close. Very close. She was almost enclosed by him as both his hands pinned either side of her. "You nearly have me a Julius Caesar." She shot out, but smiled.
He grinned, like the fool he was, the fool being in love with her made him, and stole a quick kiss from her.
He tried again.
"Good morning." He said softly stroking her cheek with his thumb as they stared at each. "Sleep well?"
She stood looking at him. His hands once again either side of hers as he pressed her up against the kitchen counter. There was little space between them, and it felt good.
She smiled like a fool back at him.
"Yeah! You?" Biting her lip in happiness.
"Perfect Molly." Charles said. "Perfect."
They stayed like that for a few moments more and then slowly the outside world started to creep into their loved up bubble.
He stepped back, and she returned to her tea making. Just in time, as a work colleague entered the staff room kitchen they were in, and oblivious to what he was interrupting sat down and opened his newspaper.
This wasn't the place for anything other than them being professional towards one another. There was so much that needed to be said, but also, finally, so much that no longer needed to be said. The kiss last night had said it all.
He had kissed her. Had kissed her last night in his hallway. Almost asked permission to do so, and she had silently given it to him. The kiss was everything, but that was all they did. All they had no rushing up of the stairs, no ripping off of each other's clothing. It was respectful and considered. It was a start, a slow one, but never the less, a start.
He'd left her soon after that kiss ended. Retreated like the gentleman he was. Yet although he had left her physically, he had not mentally. She thought about him, the kiss, all night. Her mind racing and it took a while for her to fall asleep, but did, and she had one of the best nights sleeps she'd had for ages.
As soon as she woke the next morning he texted her. She had replied. He then called her, and in the early hours of the day breaking she snuggled up in bed, holding her phone tightly to her ears, him hiding away in a quiet spot in the hotel, both were soon smiling and giggling at their conversation. It felt like the good old times. It felt right.
They had agreed that morning that no one needed to know what was going on. That for now they'd tell no one. Both private people, and both unsure at just what they'd say. He was to return back to America in ten days, they both knew that. Then after that who knew, neither wanting to talk about it for now.
So she made her own way to work and had spent most of the morning dreamily looking for him, but never seeing him. Him sneaking up behind her in the staff room kitchen was not what she expected, but she appreciated it all the same.
Mindful of others in the room he spoke low, accepting the coffee she had automatically made him. He stood with his bum half perched on a table. One long leg resting on a pulled out chair, and the other supporting him on the floor. He was calm, controlled for all to see. Only Molly saw the pulled in lips, the eyebrows that dipped and raised themselves frequently. Signs of anxiety maybe, and she could have worried, had it not been for the grin that flashed across his face frequently as he looked at her.
"So I was hoping, dinner, tonight?" He looked at her unsure how he'd cope with a rejection from her now.
He need not have worried.
"Love to." She smiled into her cup of tea to attempt to disguise her delight.
"I could...". He started off, picking at his trousers as though asking your one true love out on a date was a usual occurrence. "If I could come to yours. Mine... that is... and maybe cook something for you? It would mean that we could talk..."
She cut him off as she moved closer to the table. Flicking through a magazine on it, so that if anyone was paying them any attention, they would not realise how important this conversation was.
"Yes." She said quietly but with determination. "Yes please. That would be lovely."
He stood, happy with her answer, and tried to keep his smile dialled down to something on the good side of normal.
"Good." He said. "I know tonight's your late night. I could take your key and get started." He looked at her. "It will be ready for you when you get home."
A thousand little things ran through her mind. About the state of the house she'd left that morning. The dirty dishes in the sink, the bathroom that needed to be cleaned, but they meant nothing compared to the earnest look he was giving her waiting for her answer.
This was Charles. This was Molly. This maybe was their chance to get it right.
She slipped over her house keys and their hands touched longer than necessary, but not long enough. Her stomach flipped and ached for more. She saw desire in him too, and she knew it was going to be a very hard day to bear.
The smell of burning and the swearing worried her. Then the crashing of pans followed. She'd let herself in through the unlocked front door to be greeted by chaos.
As she walked in she saw it all. Smoke filled the kitchen. The counter tops were covered in food, pans and mess. Amongst it all was Charles stood on a chair flapping wildly at the smoke alarm to silence it's screeching. Swearing loudly at it, he failed to notice her arrival, and it gave her time to take it all in.
He looked ridiculous. She couldn't stop herself, and soon the laughter escaped her. Loudly. Happiness and relief at just how, despite it all, how normal it all was.
As soon as she made a noise, and the alarm stopped he noticed her. Standing by the kitchen door way. Laughing. Beautifully laughing at him and his disaster, and it felt good. Her hair fuzzed up by the wind and the rain from outside, still wearing her coat and a bottle of fizz in her hand... she was his everything.
He jumped down from the chair and without a word he silenced her laughter with a deep, bruising kiss. She gasped as he pulled her into him, but she met his kiss with a force and severity of her own. It was welcome and needed.
Eventually he allowed her lips to be freed. Her forehead rested on his and he rubbed his nose gently up her cold one.
"Hi." Was all he said.
"Hi." Was all she said back.
They stayed like this for seconds. Then the smoke alarm shouted its presence once again. Charles grabbed the tea towel he'd been using before, and leapt up to recommence his wafting. Molly rushed and opened the back door and side window. Both catching each other's eyes at the same time and started laughing again.
"I love you. You nutter." She said over the dim.
He heard her words and the smoke alarm magical fell silent.
His face frozen and he held her gaze, stepping slowly off the chair and moving cautiously towards her.
She was equally stilled as her words computed.
Fear and panic trickled down her back, as she felt she'd moved too fast.
"What?" He asked. "What did you say?"
She backed away from him. Set his favourite Rosé champagne on the table and went to take off her jacket. Buying herself some time and hoping to distract him enough to forget she hadn't yet answered.
"Molly?" He asked and gently touched her arm, silently asking her to turn around. "Please?"
She turned. She had taken a step. Hadn't planned to but her mouth only spoke what her heart felt.
"I love you." She said again. This time there was no laughter only seriousness. "I still love you Charles James."
She had no idea how he did it, but before the words were totally out of her mouth, he was there holding her. Embracing her as though she was the most delicate and important thing in the world. That nothing was as precious as she was, and then she knew. Even before he spoke that he felt the same way too.
"I don't know what I've done for this second chance Molly but thank you. Thank you." He kissed her head. "I love you too. Never stopped... ever."
They held each other. Enjoyed honesty. Enjoy a togetherness once again. They held each other for minutes, swaying gentle in to each other bodies as they declared again and then again their love for each other.
"Morning." Was all she softly said into his ear as he stood making himself a much needed coffee.
He turned himself around slowly and pulled her willingly into him.
Glancing at the clock, he growled slightly. It was still very early in the morning. The day after the night before.
"Morning. Just!"
She sighed into his chest, covered by his t shirt from last night. He still smelled warm and inviting. He was right though it was early and she had missed him lying beside her in his bed to keep her warm.
He held her tight and tenderly. Stroking her arms gently. The only sound was of the kettle boiling. She was naked apart from an old sleep shirt she wore. Her breasts pressed against him. Moulded into him, and he was conscious as she pressed harder into him he was standing there only in a pair of boxers that were inadequate at hiding from her how much he wanted her.
"No one has ever fit me like you do." She suddenly said. He'd rested his chin on her head as both their arms clung on to each other's body.
He mummed his agreement.
"I mean... George." She started, and stopped as she felt him tense and any ardour she felt in his arms stared to whither. "No. Wait I mean... George at times felt as though he could be right. Maybe if I'd tried harder. I mean I wanted him to be, cause... we'll just cause... but he wasn't. Wasn't you, and once I realised that I just knew couldn't anymore."
She smiled shyly at him.
"With you... I'm me. You get me. I've never had that from anyone else before, ever." She finished.
"You ok?" He dipped down to look at her ignoring the kettle signalling it had boiled. She seemed so vulnerable.
"Yeah." She tried to reassure him, but failed. He raised his eyes at her and she continued. "Just I'm scared I guess. Don't know where this is going?"
He led her into the sitting room and pulled her down into him as he fell onto the settee. He reached for the throw over and wrapped it around them, keeping then warm from the early morning chill. She giggled at his care for her, and snuggled in tighter.
"I'm sorry Molly. I know it confusing. I confusing you." He brushed her hair from her face. "I just want it to be right. I'm scared too."
She hugged him. She knew he loved her. She knew she loved him, but she also knew that in less than ten days he was heading back to America, and no fixed return date was planned. That confused her, but not as confused as she felt last night when he had made it clear that he wanted to go slow. That he wanted to do this right.
He had said that he wanted to 'woo' her. She giggled, but abruptly stopped when she finally realised he wanted to court her, and not just bed her. And so their night was passionate and but very modest and discreet. Their confessions and reunion not consummated in the modern expected way. Instead they spent the night just holding one another. Baring their souls, touching, but no more.
"It's just been so long for me Molly." He continued. "I couldn't bare to lose you again... I want you to be sure."
She smiled sadly into his chest. She was trying hard to understand. If anyone would have had doubts she would have thought it would have been her, but she didn't. She wanted him, wanted him in a way she had always wanted him, but he said he wasn't ready. He rejected her and her advances last night, and it brought back memories of all the times he had done that towards the end of their marriage. She had felt hurt all over again.
They stayed together for a while longer. Eventually both realising that they needed to get up and start their day. Both reluctant to leave each other's company. There was still so much to sort out. To Molly it had felt like one step forward and one step backwards.
"I just wish you had told me. That's all Charles." Margaret slammed down the place settings on the dining room table. "A little bit of notice would have been nice."
"I know. I'm sorry Mum." Charles hid his smile successfully from the mildly angry woman in front of him. "I just didn't think."
"No ... you didn't. I mean. I would have liked more time to...well...prepare. To get used to you bringing home a fancy bit!"
Charles had to actually bite his lip at this remark. Molly was anything but his fancy bit, but his mother didn't know that. All he had told her, as he visited for the weekend, was that his girlfriend would be joining them. To say Margaret was less than happy about the news was an understatement.
"I haven't made the spare room up even." She countered on.
"That." Charles said helping with the glasses and saving them from Margaret's anger. "Won't be necessary." He said. "She'll be sharing with me."
Margaret rolled her eyes. And said sharply.
"So does she have a name?"
"All in good time mother." And he pulled her in, much to her surprise, for a hug. Mainly because he was so happy, but also to hide the shit eating grin he had plastered over his face.
Held in her sons arms, a rare event, she softened slightly.
"Does Molly know?" She asked. She'd hoped that them working so closely together might have led to something between them. She was disappointed.
"Yes Mum. She knows." Was all he said, and briefly thought about telling her all.
If Margaret noticed Charles' change in mood as the appointed time came for Molly to arrive, she said nothing. Over the course of the afternoon she had grumbled on, and had even asked a few more questions, but Charles still kept the surprise.
He'd spent the last day almost apart from her. His day shorter than hers, and so he caught the earlier train. Her day long and she'd planned to follow on later. He'd missed her, and thought about how alone he felt, even after a few hours apart. Knowing that they had a long way to go, but knowing that whatever his future faced he wanted Molly to be right there by his side. He knew his mistakes would always be there between them, but she'd forgiven him, and he needed to accept that. He needed to appreciate that the pain and hurt of their past could now only make them stronger. And so he knew what he needed to do.
It was closer to nine, than eight, when the front door knocker sounded. Over an hour later than expected and Margaret was starting to struggle to keep it polite. The rushed evening meal she'd made, drying out in the oven. Already her opinion of Charles' new 'friend' was leaving a sour taste in her mouth. Still she steeled herself ready to face their company.
The television and the closed front room door afforded them some privacy. Both nervous.
"Hi." She spluttered out, for as soon as the front door had opened he'd rushed forwards and enclosed her in a hug. She giggled. "Take it you've missed me then?" But she was equally delighted. The past day without him in sight had been hard.
"You could say that." He teased as he released her lips, but still pulling her in.
As he moved her overnight bag into the hall way she saw anxiety on his face.
"Is everything ok?" She asked. Her mouth was dry, worried that it was all too much for him and his guilt.
He dropped her bag and moved to stand in front of her. He stared down and place one hand gently on her shoulder. Slowly he moved his head closer, as though he was going to kiss her. Instead he rested his forehead on hers and held her gaze.
"I love you." Was all he whispered and she saw how much his words affected him as well as her. "I really love you."
She moved her arms to the back of his curls and held him in her arms.
"I know." She stroked her fingers over his neck and just held his intense look. "I really know." And she did. The past few days had been a whirl wind of emotions, but one thing that did hold true was his love for her.
"I don't want to..." He began but his words were stopped short by his mother.
"Charles! Aren't going doing to introduce your friend?" Her voice a lot less friendly than it should have been as she witnessed her son embracing the half hidden stranger in her hall way.
Within moments Margaret's feeling went on a meteoric turn of direction. Initially veiled hostility, which soften when she saw how devoted her boy seemed to be towards the woman he held in his arms. For a second she felt the sadness and regret that he would no longer have that with Molly... and then as Charles' manners kicked in and he turned the woman he held towards her... pure joy erupted.
"MOLLY!" She gasped as Molly grinned and blushed and moved away from Charles' arms into his mother's.
They hugged and both spilt tears. Eventually Charles broke them apart, and Margaret happily let her go. A thousand and one questions followed.
"I think." Said Charles in an attempt to let Molly get her breath back. "My girlfriend wouldn't mind her supper now Mum."
Both women giggled as they moved off arm in arm, but both women's hearts so full as they had noted his use of the word 'girlfriend' to describe Molly.
The rest of the evening flowed well. The wine, the laughter and the happiness of the three. Margaret unrelenting in her questions. Making both Molly and Charles smile, as some they could answer and some they couldn't... just not yet.
"You don't mind do you?" He asked as he closed the bedroom door to his, their, old room. "Sharing with me!"
She looked up from where she was sitting on the bed and smiled.
"No. I don't." She leaned back on her hands. "Is this you still wooing me then? Getting me alone in your room!" She teased.
He blushed. He'd always been the romantic one out of them. The gentleman. She use to kid that she was the tramp compared to his posh boy upbringing, and she loved it. Always had. Loved the way she was so special in his eyes. Never believing that of herself until she had met Charles, and loving that it was him that made her that way. It was one of the many things she'd missed, when they were no longer a couple.
He moved to sit next to her. Mindful of the creak of the old bed they had shared when they had stayed over, and she leaned right in. She hadn't expected a reply from him. Had seen him colour and knew her gentle teasing was taken with the good humour it was intended.
"Can I ask you something!" She began and flashed a hopeful smile as he looked at her. With his nod she continued. "When I came...earlier in the hall way you were about to say something. Before your Mum came through. What was it?"
It took him a few moments. He pulled himself back on the bed, and signalled for her to follow. Shifting backwards she moulded into his arms.
He slowly began.
"For a long time after Rebecca, then Geraint, I didn't recognise myself. It was hard. What I was looking at in the mirror was not anything that I used to be. And then you came along and for a long time, no matter what I'd see, I'd see you, know you, remember you. You brought me back. Stopped me being lonely and mixed up."
He stroked her hair and gently shifted so he could place a finger over her lips. He saw she was just about to speak.
"Let me say this." He pleaded and she nodded.
"I loved that, but then one day. I don't know when it started ... I closed my eyes and I couldn't see you, hear you. I had to concentrate, and then you'd come. Then as time went on I found I'd stopped dreaming about you, I forgot your laugh. I'd had to look at pictures of you to remind me who you were. You were so clear in everything I did, then it went. You, me, everything, and all that was left was silence."
He tipped his head back and drew in a deep breath.
"I wondered then if that's how I thought, then you probably felt the same. That maybe I'd become a man you couldn't recognise either...and didn't love."
He watched as she tried to understand the new confession he was giving. She had no words, so he kept on.
"I stopped trying to remember you. Stop remembering all your silly little things that made you my Molly. Instead I just died."
She clung onto him.
"I don't know why Molly. All I knew was when I closed my eye I saw Elvis. His blacken face and heard Georgie and her cries. That was all. Each and every time I closed my eyes. For over a year, nothing would stop it. It was destroying me, I knew that. It was destroying us."
He paused long enough for her to speak. She'd found her voice.
"I knew that. I saw, and I hoped it wouldn't destroy you." Molly said quietly. "I couldn't let it destroy you, but I saw a man who couldn't be loved by me anymore, didn't want to be loved by me anymore, and so I stopped trying too."
"You left." He nodded. "You got out before I pulled you down with me. I understood that." He began again after a long pause. "I was glad and sad in equal parts. It hurt so much though when I knew it was over, after I did what I did to block out his face, that pain was the first real feeling I'd felt in a long time. And that's when I knew I needed help."
"I clawed myself back bit by bit. I tried every day Molly to find me again…. eventually it worked. Some days harder than others, and then some days I didn't have to try as hard."
It was the most open he'd been for a long time. Some of it she had heard before. Years ago when they first bumped into each other outside the coffee shop on Regent Street, but some was new. And it broke her heart.
"I always thought we'd have a chance again." She sobbed. "That you'd get better, but then when I heard about you and Georgie. I knew it was over."
He pulled her in tight.
"It was wrong. I'll never understand why I did it. She wasn't to blame. She shouldn't have been out there any more than I should have been." He sighed. "Whoever passed her fit fucked up."
Molly shifted. She'd never confessed this before, not to anyone apart from George. Good old dependable George who understood and forgave her for everything. Understood her role in it all, and her guilt.
"It was me." She choked out. "Me who helped pass Georgie fit for going back out there." She watched as his eyes grew wide at hearing her confession.
"What the fuck Molly?" He asked with no hate or disgust. Just questioning. "Why?"
"I thought she'd help you." She defended herself sharply. "She knew what you was going through. Understood." Molly shuddered at how wrong she had been. "She seemed ok, and I thought with her being a medic and that she could have helped. Helped you, helped us. I fucked that one up big time didn't I?"
"Don't." He moved to turn her to look at him. "Don't. It wasn't your fault. Or hers. It was mine."
"No." Molly shot out. "Don't defend her." She couldn't bear that. "I asked her to look out for you. I went to her as her friend, a mate, as a concerned wife, and she told me she would. She told me she'd do it for us, for Elvis. She lied."
Charles shook his head. Reeling at the news that Georgie was there to help, and that even after all he had done to push Molly away she had still been trying to help him. Molly had turned to a friend, a confident, and a colleague, and she had been betrayed not just by him, her husband, but by that person too. The power she had given Georgie to help him had been misused and abused. They had both let her down.
He'd never known that.
"I'm so sorry Molly. So sorry."
She slammed into his chest for a hug and gripped on to the shirt on his back. Clinging on to him. Fearful he'd let her go.
"I'm sorry too. It was my fault... what happened. I should have known better. She was a text book grief case. Transference think they call it." She pulled away and rocked sitting back onto her heels still holding his hands. "That's why I forgive you, cause I'm to blame too. I sent her there. I made her go. Told her to be your friend. It was my fault."
"No Molly." He lay her down next to him. Spooned her as he kissed her head and neck. Calming her as small occasional sobs came from her.
"Not your fault. Never your fault. Mine. All mine."
They stayed like that for a while. Both too bruised to talk for now, and a cathartic lull took over their bodies as they drift off asleep. Fully clothed, on top of the bed sheet, but held tight in each other's arms.
She woke cold and stiff. Hours later they hadn't moved. The lack of heating in the room, and covers, saw them both quickly and silently shed their outer clothes and snuggled tight and close beneath his duvet. Only their underwear remained in place.
"You ok?" He asked as they settled again and the bed started to warm from their heat.
"Yes. You?" She asked back. Their usual rhythm.
"Yes. You're here." He replied, and silently smiled at the half-hearted groan she let out to his romantic line.
They lay close. Her face close to his, their noses occasionally touching. Their eyes smiling.
"I'm back Molly." He said. "You make me me. That's what I was going to say tonight in the hallway. I don't have to try. Not anymore. We've nothing to wait out for. I love you, and I want you. As in I really want you." He stroked his fingers slowly up and down her back as he spoke. She noticed the timbre change to his voice and the nervousness on his face, even in the dimmed light of the night.
She smiled shyly at him, and tried not to act too quickly. Though she had caught on fast.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" She blushed, and was about to continue when she saw the raw confession on his face.
"It's been a long time Molly." He said through a dry mouth. "Since you and I... well I haven't... since the act with Georgie... well there's been no one else. Not once."
She reached out and touched his face.
"Bleeding hell Charles. You're kidding right? That's nearly six years!" Then seeing his shame she stopped her next sentence and held onto his face.
"We don't have to you know? There's no hurry."
"Fuck Molly." He smiled when he realised his choice of words. "I want to. Really want I make love to you again..." He paused and tipped his head back. Eyes closed to hide his shame. "I don't want to wait."
"Ditto. Bleeding ditto." She replied, and they cannoned on to each other's embrace and kiss.