Sorry. A long one. Just couldn't shrink I down and didn't feel right in two parts. Enjoy, and let me know if you want more.

Lizard

Chapter 16

Their grumpy Christmas Eve turned, with the help of alcohol and some degree of maturity, into an enjoyable Christmas after all. They had both wanted this for too long. And so both tried their hardest in making it work.

Molly recovered enough to partake, and Charles cast aside his worries over her lack of faith, trust, in him to enjoy it all. It was a happy time, some old traditions were kept, while other new ones were made.

She had struggled to know what to get him, had tried hard with his present. Yet in the end it didn't matter, nothing compared to the delight she saw on his face that night as they went to bed.

"It's not too much?" She asked as she fitted into his side as he stood and looked around his bedroom room.

Everywhere he looked there were signs of his Molly. The dressing table once again festooned with her bottles and potions. The bedside cabinet she claimed as hers proudly displaying a family photograph, and her indispensable hand cream. The wardrobe stuffed full and groaning with the addition of her clothes to it.

"No." He said, almost unable to speak due to the smile on his face. "It's perfect. Thank you."

She knew it was a small task. She had done most of it as he had slaved away preparing the Christmas dinner, having banished to a long hot bath. Yet she knew symbolically it meant so much to him, and now she had moved in to his room she found it meant so much to her too.

"You might regret it you know?" She giggled as she flipped off her slippers and dropped her clothes on the floor. She knew he'd hated her mess once before.

He leaned down and collected her clothes as she deposited them. An old habit.

"No." He said with serious under tones. "I won't. Never regret having you in my life. Ever."

She slipped under the covers, naked, and chilled by the coldness of the sheets.

"You won't be saying that when you can't see your bedroom floor." She challenged him.

He threw down the clothes he'd been holding. They dropped everywhere. He started to take off his clothes, and like Molly discarded them around the room with gay abandonment.

"Our room." He said very deliberately. And she happily nodded. "Beside how about a new rule?" He asked.

She looked at him with amused suspicion.

"This time." He said prowling over to her across the bed. "No fucking rules? We can be as messy as we want."

His face was now inches from hers and she leaned slightly forward and pecked his lips.

"Sounds good to me." She smiled happily.

Molly's excitement at their trip and New Year's Eve treat was evident, and only slight damped both their good mood when she insisted on Boxing Day visiting her family... alone.

He fretted all the time she was away. Worried about their influence on her. Yet he need not have worried. On her return he noticed she was low, and clung to him so tight let that he knew, as expected, it had not gone well. He never asked though and she only briefly said. He secretly feared hearing about her parent's hate for him.

Their time in New York smoothed over any cracks that might have been. New Year's Eve was everything and more. Her time spent living in Charles' world enjoyable too. She saw how he lived, how he had been living without her. She saw he'd been safe, sparse, and frightenly alone. She saw how he'd tried, without her, but had only half done so.

He was nervous as he showed her into his small apartment in New York. He knew he was exposing some of the new him to her.

The flat was stone cold when they arrived and both were tired from the flight. He left her to explore the two rooms and bathroom on her own as he rooted in the cupboard to turn the heating up to full. He heard her leave the small kitchen living room and push open the door to his bedroom. It contained a bed, a cabinet and a cupboard. That was all, as there was no space for anything else and so he felt confused when she didn't suddenly reappear.

He pushed open the door and saw her sitting on the edge of his bed. Her hand running repeatedly over the duvet cover.

"I remember this." She said sadly and he realise what she meant.

The duvet and bedding set was something she had fought him hard over to buy. Charles had thought they were ridiculously expensive, and such costs, as they were setting up home together, was unnecessary and unwarranted. She'd pleaded with him but he refused. Telling her they had more important things to waste their money on.

She'd stormed out of the shop feeling patronised and controlled, and they argued all the way home. Her feistiness continued until the next evening when a contrite Charles came home with the bundle of bedding that had caused the argument. He rightly had apologised and vowed he'd never stop her again for buying things for their home. Telling her he didn't care if he slept on £300 bedding set or a cardboard box, as long as she was there to share it with him.

It hadn't been their first row, but it somehow had, at that time, been their most significant one. Charles realising he couldn't control Molly; he shouldn't control Molly. That together they were equal partners in the relationship.

"You should do." He said and he sat down softly next to her. "It took us long enough to pay them off the credit card."

She turned quickly to look at him and he worried if he had teased her about the wrong thing.

"Yeah." She admitted. "Hadn't thought about these for years." She said. "Didn't realise you had it."

"You want it back?" He said. "It's yours!"

"Nah." She shook her head. "Haven't missed it in all this time, so doubt I will now." She admitted. "It's just funny."

"What?" He asked shoulder bumping her to continue.

"Well not funny 'ha ha', but funny." She smiled. "When we ended I just left didn't I? Never thought about what I'd left behind... bits and pieces and stuff."

"Yeah." He sighed painfully. "You're right. It's not funny 'ha ha'. It's fucking tragic... that I hurt you that much and made you run that far... that fast."

She scooted up the head of the bed.

"Still feels nice though." She stroked the sheets, watching him. "I was right though wasn't I?"

He shook his head to show he was unsure what she was saying. Still struggling with the wave of guilt.

"This!" She pointed to the set. "Well worth the money and that. Told you it would last."

He joined her at the top of the bed and she slid onto his arms. He had a small smile on his face.

"I'm pleased you kept it." She mumbled out and very soon she drifted off into a content sleep.

They spent seven happy days in his adopted city. Charles proudly showing Molly off wherever they went, and proudly showing her the sights like a native.

It was like the honeymoon they never had, both mindful of that fact. After their wedding all those years ago, they had plans. Big plans, but Molly's promotion prospects, and Charles' tours interrupted those and so they settled.

They settled on a week away in Paris. Seeing the sights, taking in the culture, enjoying the food. Yet even these plans were interrupted. A bad case of food poisoning floored both them, and their guests, in the days after the wedding. The hot weather and the copious amounts of sea food at the reception was to blame. Either way Molly and Charles' first days as man and wife were spent lying next to each other on a very expensive bathroom floor in the capital of France. It was a long time later, that they both could laugh over what had happened. Yet secretly both always had a huge wave of regret that their new life together had started so very badly.

So her week in New York showed them what they both had missed. Walks, meals out, afternoons in bed, all pushing these two closers into each other's hearts than ever before.

And it broke their hearts even more so when it came time to say goodbye.

Molly was to return back to the UK and Charles was to continue his work in America. The parting was sad and painful. Both making ridiculous promises that nothing would come between them again. Not even the Atlantic Ocean.

And so one wet Saturday afternoon Molly said goodbye to Charles as she walked through the departure gate with one sad final wave.

"Are you sure you're ok?" He asked for the numerous time.

"Charles." She said sternly as she looked down at him via the Skype line. "I'm a big girl now and if I don't want to go out for my birthday then I don't have to."

"I know." He smiled back. "It's just 32.. it's an age to be going out to celebrate."

She laughed.

"Surprised you can remember mate." Her eyes teased him. "Big 4...0 for you this year isn't it?"

"Yes. Well..." He said defensively. "The least we say about that the better."

"Honest Charles I'm fine." She went on. "Bella was to come over, but then some crisis happens. She hardly calls at all now. Don't ask." She said. "Mum reckon she's a new fella. Out all hours. Apparently."

Charles said nothing but noted that at least Molly had been talking to her mother again.

"Anyway." Molly finished. "It would have been nice to see me niece Amy and that. Haven't seen her for ages."

"So your Mum called?" He asked tentatively.

"Yeah, and I got a card." She smiled ruefully at him. "Didn't ask after you though."

Charles snorted, and held off from saying anything else.

A comfortable silence hung over their call, but he noticed she worked her bottom lip.

"Molly." He began and instantly at the warm caring tone he used, her eyes filled up.

"Don't." She half sobbed out. "Don't. I'm trying not to think about that."

He could do nothing but just watch her struggle to pull herself together. He knew how hard this week was for her. Not only the anniversary of her birth, but in a few days also the sad anniversary of her miscarriage. He'd tried everything to be there for her, but it simply wasn't possible.

"Did Rebecca say she called?" Molly tried to act normal. "Invited me to stay with them next week."

"Think Mum mentioned it." He admitted. "Knew you'd say no though."

"Yeah just a bit too... well you know. With me and her being close and that during the pregnancies."

"I know. Molly. I understand." Charles said. "We all do." He moved closer to the screen. "Shit Molly I wish I could be there with you."

"I know. I know." She'd heard him say it countless times over the past few days. She knew he felt guilty. "But it really is all right. This is my thing. A few days of being sad and I'll be fine." She promised him. Too caught up in her bravery to see how hurt he'd looked at her words of exclusion.

They changed the subject. Forced themselves to and began to talk of happier dreams that he'd find out soon, very soon, when he could come home.

Soon though as always happened, the time zone and his need to start his day stopped their conversation. Him wishing her a good night, and her wishing him a good day.

She just managed to hear the phone over the sound of her tooth brush. Grabbing it before she saw who was calling her so late. She knew though chances were it would have been Charles.

"Missing me already ya nutter!" She grinned into the phone as she answered it.

They was silence, then a tentative.

"Molly? It's George. I'm in London. I'd really like to see you again."

She was so nervous. Had made an extra special effort on how she looked, had even started to get ready early, but still she was late and the rain was ruining her hair.

Meeting George again after nearly a year and a half was going to be hard. Especially once he'd unnecessarily explained why he needed to see her. Needed to be with her at the anniversary of their miscarriage. He didn't want her to be alone, and so with his kind heart he'd flown half way around the world to see her. She knew by that selfless act he still loved her, and she knew he always would, but wondered just how much exactly in love with her he still was.

Yet he surprised her still. Their time together was happy and easy. She remembered him as the great guy he was and truly wished him happiness when he told her that him and Mia were engaged. She silently applauded herself at how mature she took the news, and how the only emotions she showed him were those of happiness.

His visit was short, but for both of them it had seemed natural. Closure on what might have been. She knew that as she'd agreed to meet him, and she knew she'd never see him again.

Saying yes to meeting up with him had been an easy decision. She had wanted to see him. To her it was innocent.

However her meting George was not so well received by Charles. He'd always been a jealous one. Which she always felt was ironic, because out of the two of them he was the one never short of attention regardless of the sex.

They'd had the inevitable words about Molly meeting George. Charles suspicious of the grand gesture George was making by flying in to see her. Molly tried to give reassurance, comfort, but soon got exasperated by his petulance that she fired her anger at him.

"Look Charles. He's hurting too." She had snapped. "This was his kid too you know. As well as mine, and we just need some time together to mark this day."

Her words cut him, and she knew and saw that, but still she went on.

"Whatever you wished had or hadn't happened I do have a past with George. She breathed in slowly. "I do have memories, some good some bad. We need this." She said softer. "To say goodbye."

Charles knew as he put the phone down after several more minutes talking that he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't help himself. He'd been so excited to call her that night, full of his own news that he was totally blindside by hers. And so he realised that as the call ended that he still hadn't told her that he had a UK return date.

January passed into February, and then into March, both were excited. His return date set for the end of April. His return home would mean nearly four months of them not physically seeing one another. They had of course gone longer in the past, but this time it felt different. When they were both in the Army it had felt right, their duty, but now it just felt wrong and unnecessary. They no longer wanted or need that type of life style. Had tried it once and had failed to pass the stress it brought with it, and so they wished to avoid it ever again.

"Look at this one." Sam laughed as he passed his phone over.

Molly had spent the past half an hour, with her weekend guest, being shown more and more pictures of Charles enjoying himself. She didn't begrudge him enjoying himself, was pleased in a way, but a slow ball of concerned had started to take hold of her gut as she watch frame by frame as he appear more and more intoxicated.

"Looks like he's having a hell of a send-off." Sam laughed as his Twitter page pinged once more. "Those guys know how to party."

For a short time she had hoped that she would have been over in America celebrating with him too, but it was not to be. The conference was his last official duty for the charity over there, but was not deemed important enough or her to attend. Instead they had to wait a while longer until he finally came home. A whole week longer.

"He's going to have a whopper of a headache in the morning." Sam laughed as he showed her a collection of photos, where she was fairly certain Charles was unable to focus in.

Suddenly her phone burst to life.

"Dawesy. Dawesy. Do you know how luch I move you?" He slurred down the line. "Nearly mealy luch." And then the phone when dead.

That was the last she heard of him for nearly a whole day. Though she didn't worry, over the past weeks as his departure day came closer, his calls had got less and less. The business of all his plans the excuse, and she patiently told him she understood. And she did. She loved him.

So three days later she waited excitedly at the arrival gates waiting for him to come home. To their home. To her.

It surprised her as he walked through the door at just how troubled he looked. She'd expected him to beam. Run into her arms. Spin her around with happiness, but instead she saw him slow and reluctant to meet her eye.

"Still hung over?" She asked as she attempted a hug. He was stiff in its return.

"You could say that." He attempted a smile, and tired really tired.

"Come on." She said as sympathetically as she could. Knowing as he got older his hang overs were a bitch for him. "Let's get you home."

The car ride home was in silence. He feigned sleep. A tactic he did towards the end of their marriage. She could almost smell the guilt from him.

As soon as they entered the house she took control. She wasn't going to be a victim again.

"Ten minutes to get your shit together Charles." She rounded on him unexpectedly. "Then your gonna tell me what the fuck is up."

He stared down at her. Not even needing the ten minutes she'd kindly given him. He confessed right there and then.

"I saw Georgie." He spat out. "Shit Molly the guilt is eating me up." He watched her prepare for more of his news. "I saw Georgie." And then he just waited.

To her credit she had calmly took in the news, had listened as she filled the kettle and made herself a tea. She offered him no niceties, apart from her silence. Eventually though he stopped talking and now it was her turn.

"So she just tuned up?" She began. "Just like that? You never knew?"

"Molly. I swear. No. She was part of the Military representation. We weren't given names beforehand." He paced the kitchen and ran his hand through his hair. "She'd been there all day, but only came up to say 'hi' at the night do. My leaving do."

"What happened?" She asked. "What did you say to her?"

"God I don't know." He sighed as he sat down. "I was so pissed by then." He looked at her and knew she needed something more substantial. "She asked how I was? I asked how she was? We both said sorry... and..."

"And?" Molly asked.

"That's all I remember. Think I passed out fairly soon after that. Someone helped me into the cab and saw me home."

He watched as she looked at him assessing him.

"Why you so guilty then?" She asked.

"Cause I told you I'd never hurt you again, and I guess I just have." He answered.

"So did anything happen?" She asked before she could stop herself. She expected him to be mad.

He simply looked sadly at her.

"I don't want to hurt you Molly. Ever. You have to believe that."

"You haven't answered the question Charles." She pushed.

"No Molly. It didn't. I went home, and can't remember anything more from that night. You have to believe me."

She stirred her tea for the numerous time and watched him. He wouldn't hurt her again; he'd promised her that. And she had promised herself that she'd believe him.

The moment it took her to speak again seemed like a life time, but eventually she did.

Her words were soft and quiet. She hoped that her trust was well founded.

"I do." Was all she said and watched as a small tear rolled down his face as he moved in to hold her.

They danced around each other for the rest of the day. Both choosing an early night rather than endure more silences that they couldn't fill. She hoped Charles' suffering was from jet lag and a hangover, rather than anything else.

Eventually she got up and went downstairs. It was early the next morning and he still slept. She couldn't. She hadn't. She flicked through every TV channel they had and found nothing to interest her or take her mind off her worries. Throwing the remote onto the coffee table she startled when she heard his laughter.

"What's that poor thing ever done to you?" He moved forward and sat down next to her, pulling her in closer to him.

Their shoulders touched and it felt awkward.

"So Bella?" He began for need of something to say. "You ever find out what's going on with her?"

"Nah. She's even stopped calling me." Molly snorted. "It's driving Mum crazy! There's a new fella on the scene. Keeps dumping Amy off on them. Sneaking out for nights with him all the time."

"New fella?" He said half interested. "Oh! Bet Dave's not happy?" Charles said diplomatically.

Molly chuckled.

"When is he ever?"

"Guess thought I'm still number one enemy then?" He asked. Not expecting her answer.

She smiled weakly, and they sat in silence. She started to pick at the nail varnish on her nails. Uncharacteristically for her, but she'd made an effort for his return. Preened and gleaned herself up for his home coming. Wild with excitement, with the thought of possibilities, and now she just didn't know.

She needed to know.

"What did it feel like?" She asked tipping her head up to look at his. "When you saw her again?"

She felt his sigh rather than heard it.

He looked at her, and attempted honesty.

"I felt scared." He admitted. "Scared what it would do to us."

She nodded as though she understood.

"Was that all?" She asked. "I mean nothing else."

"Like I wanted to run." He said. "Does that make me a coward? I felt ashamed...and sad." He continued.

"Sad?" She asked. "Why?" Worried he felt regret in seeing her again. Regret that he wasn't with her.

"Cause I hurt her. Hurt you. Hurt everyone." He admitted. "Cause I had a second chance and she hasn't. Can't."

"Did you?... I mean...do you...? Seeing her and that...ever think maybe?" She tumbled over her words as her nails became very interesting again.

"I was drunk, very drunk." He said. "I couldn't process it then. Too shocked, but later when I sobered up, all I thought about was you. What I had put you through and how very sorry I still am." He held her hands to his lips. "She meant nothing to me, not then, not really, not ever...and still doesn't."

She twisted next to him and slid into his lap. She trusted him.

"You know I love you Charles. Don't ya?" She asked.

"I do." He kissed her. "And I love you so very much too."

They developed a routine. A routine that Molly fell happy with but uncomfortable with at the same time. She was delighted he was back. They were together and their relationship was on track. She'd even made some tracks into smoothing things over with her parents. They still weren't happy to see Charles but accepted Molly was determined, as she always had been, and once she set her mind to something there was no turning it.

None of that made her uncomfortable. Nor the fact that her letters back from Bashira weren't as many, or as frequent, as she would have liked. The little girl she had once known had move on, and had grown up.

Parents, Bashira, all of that was bearable, but working with Charles again wasn't. Once more he was her superior, and although the hierarchy of the charity was nothing like the military, she still disliked being in his chain of command.

He knew this. Tried to negate her uncomfortableness, avoided personal contact with her when possible, and basically stayed away.

Still they drove in to work together, and often as not drove home together. Molly mindful of the looks other colleagues gave her as they did so.

She therefore set her mind to changing it. She needed this to work, wanted this to work. They both did, but she was nervous about mentioning her plans to him.

When she did, both snuggled up in front of the TV, relaxed and switched off from work day stresses, she felt relieved.

He paused for a few moments. Then he began nodding.

"Think you're right." He said, popping in a Malteser as he did so. Crunching it loudly. "Best thing for you, and maybe for us."

"You're not mad?" She asked amazed. She'd been dreading this conversation. "Wow!"

He popped a chocolate into her mouth to shut her up. Grinning at her.

"So come on Dawes tell me how far have you've got?"

It had been nearly two months since he'd been back and those two months had shown her plenty of surprises. How Charles had changed, for the better, and this was one of those moments.

"Well." She began. "I've sent off the application. It's been accepted; now all I have to do is wait." She scrunched her face up. "See if I get offered an interview."

He nodded.

"And then what?"

She reached behind the chair for her lap top and fired it up. Allowing him to see all the information she had on there.

It wasn't going to be an easy process, ultimately three years of studying and training, but all within her capabilities. Eventually qualifying as a Paramedic.

"I'll be broke for a while, being a student. But it's what I want." She told him.

"Then I think you should go for it." He beamed at her. "You know I'll help in any way." He said softly, and before she could speak. "I mean after all... the money Dad left you would have been just right for this wouldn't it?"

She stilled. Waited.

He chuckled as he felt her stiffen.

"It's alright Molly I knew from the beginning almost. What Dad did."

"You didn't mind?" She asked.

"No! It was the right thing to do." Charles replied. Then softly whispered into her ear. "And I know exactly what you did with it too!"

At this she turned fully to him. The words stuck in her mouth. Never expecting her secret donation to the charity would be anything but. Yet he didn't allow her to talk. Instead he placed his lips over her silent mouth and kissed her soundly.

"Right then fella." She shouted out as she slammed his front door with a quick kick of her foot. "I've bought half a bloody shop worth of sausages and burgers, so that BBQ best be on."

She smiled as she threw her keys down enthusiastically and moved to the kitchen. It was the weekend. The nights of summer and the weather was glorious, and the BBQ called. An impromptu tea, with a bottle of fizz to accompany it. They had something to celebrate. She had made it through the second round of the interview process for her Paramedic training and it was looking hopeful.

She was so happy, in the past four months her home, her life, was transformed for the better.

She slipped into garden to find it empty, and she turned around she saw him coming out of the kitchen door.

"You haven't even lit it. You lazy bugger." She teased pointing at the BBQ. Then stopped as she saw his face. Serious. Concerned.

"What's up?" She asked swallowing hard.

She watched as he pulled his hands through his hair. A sure sign of nerves and trouble.

"Molly. There's..." He began. But she knew.

She pushed past him and moved around the downstairs rooms. Stopping dead when she appraised the visitor in the sitting room.

Still and waiting for her.

Charles was instantly behind her.

"What's she doing her?" She asked confused. "Charles?" She asked hopefully.

Charles didn't have time to speak.

"Nice to see you again too Mols." Her visitor said. Sarcasm dripping off her tongue.

Molly said nothing, but she took her guest in. Her long dark hair, beautiful styled. Her makeup perfect, as it always used to be, whatever the circumstances. Molly felt grubby and dirty next to her.

It was easy to see their visitor had made an effort today in visiting Charles, and Molly. That she'd dressed up for the occasion, but then she always did, to show off her many charms. Her drawn on facial features were perfect, her clothes demonstrated her figure, and her perfume filled the room.

It had been a long time since they all had met, been in the same room as one another. It felt unpleasant, suffocating.

Molly felt silly and childlike next to her. The knee length cut off denim shorts, baggy Disney T shirt, messy hair and makeup free skin, made Molly feel inadequate next to her. She always did. She 'd come to accept a long time ago that she'd never measure up or come close to the plastic beauty before her. The Army 'dos', the nights out the four of them used to go on, Molly was never the one who turned the men's head as the entered. It was always her.

Charles said he never saw it. He always used to say Molly was the beautiful one, and so when what happen happened Molly was surprised and amazed at how easy the opinions changed.

Again Molly turned to Charles. Sterner this time asked.

"What is she doing here?" Molly waited.

"She's come to see you. Me." He replied with not too much confidence. "Us." He said quieter.

"Why?" Molly asked. Still not addressing her guest.

"You gonna look at me Molly." She asked, flicking her hair angrily. She hating being ignored. She wasn't used to being ignore, and she'd purposely come here today to ensure she'd be the centre of attention once more. She liked that.

"What you doing here?" Molly turned and looked her in the eye. Knowing trouble was on its way. Her presence here today was testament of that.

"I'm pregnant." She said triumphantly.

"What?" Molly spat out.

"About three months." She replied. Shooting her hand over her slightly swollen tummy. "We thought you should know."

Molly's eyes turned into slits, giving her an evil stare.

"What's this got to do with me. Us." She snarled. Afraid to look at Charles.

"Well." She stood up and moved towards Molly. "It's only fair. Cause you know the father. Doesn't she Charles?"

"Look Molly." He began behind her. "I didn't... well it was a mistake... I've only just found out too."

He went to move nearer to her, and Molly let him hold her. To shocked to do anything else.

"When?" She asked. "I mean how?" She felt weak and confused.

"Bloody hell Molly." She spat a laugh out through her lip glossed mouth. "Do I really have to answer that?"

"No. But I don't understand." Molly tried again. Shaking her head.

"Look it's simple. Complicated, someone's gonna her hurt, but yeah it's still simple." She laughed. Then began. "He's been having an affair. With me...again. Ever since he's been back home." She paused for effect looking directly at Charles. Challenging him. "We met up months ago briefly, talked and both realised there was something still there. He still had feelings for me. Last time we ended it was a mistake. I love him and he loves me. You knew that Molly... deep down. We never should have stopped seeing each other, but stupidly... for some reason we did."

Charles squeezed his fingers gently into Molly's shoulders. He let out a breath he hoped sounded anything but as desperate as he felt. Unsure of these two fiery lady's reactions. He knew them both so well, and knew what they were capable of.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly into her ear. In an attempt to justify his part in it all. "I didn't know. She's only just told me too. Or else I would have…tried to say…"

He stopped. He knew this would stir up hard memories for Molly and that she'd get hurt in the process.

"I'm so sorry Molly." He would have done anything for this secret not to have been found out.

He knew then that the legacy of Georgie, that what him and Georgie had done would never ever leave Molly alone. That the hurt he had cased her was about to be caused again.

Molly moved her head and looked at him and passed a small smile. It was false, behind it she felt sick and like running.

"Who?" She asked.

There was silence and she raised a questioning eyebrow at Charles. She needed him to tell her. Tell her the truth. She deserved that. After last time, after Georgie and it all falling apart in silence. This time she needed to have it spelled out to her clearly regardless of the hurt.

He shifted uncomfortably and looked at his guest, hoping to be let off the hook, but she was enjoying it, and enjoyed Charles' discomfort. This was her pay back for his crimes of yester year.

"Fingers." Charles eventually answered. "Fingers is the father. He's been having an affair with Bella." He pointed at her as she grinned back at Molly and Charles. Even telling Molly disgusted Charles.

Molly mustered her courage, and her anger. Fully understanding everything now.

"You bleeding daft cow Bella." She shouted at her gloating sibling, but at her harsh words the beautifully sculpture sister in front of her crumbled.

"I'm sorry Mols, but I love him." Bella sobbed out. "Me and Fingers love each other."

Molly broke away from Charles and moved into hugging her little sister.

"And he loves me Mols I know he does." She went on. "He's gonna leave his wife and that."

Molly was dumb founded.

She cast a sympathetic eye over towards Charles who fully understood the complications this was all going to throw up. She saw how uncomfortable he felt too, with good cause.

Here was Bella. Molly's sister.

Pregnant with Fingers' child.

Fingers who was married to Marie.

Who happened to be Georgie's sister.

They stared blankly at each other, both aware that one hell of a shit storm was coming.