As always the recognisable characters are all the property of Tony Grounds and the BBCs. I am only borrowing them.
What a wonderful character Molly Dawes is. It will be a crime if the BBC do not make a follow-on series.
Just doing my job
Part 4 - The Recipient
The taxi dropped the Dawes family back home just before half past three in the afternoon. It had been a long day and they were all tired but happy. In fact, Molly had never seen her Dad so happy (or pleasant). He'd even bought lunch for them all at a very classy restaurant in Pimlico not far from the Palace. Gawd knows where he got the money, she thought, borrowed it off Nan maybe? Best not ask!
Twenty minutes later, Molly stood in her sister's bedroom, still in her dress uniform. She was leaning against the corner post of the bunk bed, being careful not to disturb any of the fairy lights which hung all over it. It was one of the few places in the house where she could get some privacy and she was making the most of it before the kids got home from school.
She had been on the phone to Charles for the last quarter of an hour, although they'd been texting each other off and on all the way down the Mile End Road. Molly had been telling him about the palace, about her chats with other recipients before the ceremony, and the briefing at the palace on what to do and how to behave in front of Prince Charles.
"So... what did my namesake have to say? What was he like?" said the voice on the phone.
"'e was really nice actually. We spoke for ages. In fact, 'is "man" had to remind 'im to give me the royal boot 'cos we'd been chatting for too long. "
"Doesn't sound like you Dawesy, you've never usually got much to say," he said with a chuckle.
" 'Ere watch it. I'll 'ave you know 'e thought I'd make a great Blue Peter presenter and you can't get more praise than that."
"Yes, but he doesn't know about your swearing does he? Imagine your language while you're doing all that parachuting and white water canoeing."
"And I ain't sure how my accent would go down at the Beeb."
"I can hear you now, 'You might gonna need sticky back plastic'," he said in his best Cockney. "Oh well, they could always put subtitles up when you come on".
She laughed. "Cheeky sod."
"So what did he say about your award," asked Charles.
"Said he was in awe of me. How about that?"
"So he should be. I am. And you said you got interviewed. Who was that then?"
"Who wasn't it, more like. Loads of press photographers. They was a real pain. Must have been at least twenty of them, all with them cameras with huge lenses. 'Over here Molly,' 'Hold up the medal Molly,' ' Big smile Molly! On and on for a quarter of an hour. I was getting cramp in me cheeks, all that smiling. Then there was the TV."
"TV! You didn't say anything about TV interviews."
"Didn't I? Sorry. Yes, there were three of those, Sky News, Channel 4 and the BBC. All a bit surreal really, not very long though, just a few minutes each. "
"That must have been quite stressful"
"A little, but actually, once they started, it was OK. I think I done alright"
"Wow. Fame at last then Dawesy. Promise me you won't become a diva."
"No, not me. Not a chance of it going to me 'ead. Believe it or not, I wasn't asked for me autograph once."
"Shame, their loss. You sound tired Molly."
"Yeah. I'm knackered; but it's a good "knackered" if you know what I mean. I feel different, Charles, but I can't put me finger on it. Somehow, by the time I got to do those interviews, I felt I had a right to be there, that I wasn't a fraud. It was a good feeling.
"It's so great to hear you say that Molly. I've told you a hundred times, well almost, how special you are, but you just think I'm biased! At least now you know it's not just me and you can ask Prince Charles for a second opinion. Look, I think you really need to get your head down for a bit, then we'll have another chat later. Why don't you do that?"
"I don't need no convincing Boss, quick shower, then a couple of hours kip."
"I can't wait until tomorrow," said Charles, "I am counting down the minutes. I love you."
She couldn't keep a huge smile off her face every time he said those three words. "Love you too," she said.
"Talk to you later. Bye"
"Bye"
Molly threw the phone on the bed, picked out a change of clothes and went to the bathroom for her shower. The gloriously hot water slowly washed off the London grime and massaged some of the fatigue away. It was always a good place to think. The investiture itself seemed like a dream now. Did she really have long chat about Afghan with the heir to the throne just five hours ago? Well there, pinned to her tunic, hanging on the bathroom door, was the proof it all really happened; the beautiful silver cross hanging from the white ribbon, right beside her Afghan service medal.
Her mind wandered away from this morning to tomorrow. She was travelling straight to Bath by train the following afternoon and staying five whole, wonderful days until Monday. Then, Charles had said, his mother was offering to take her right to the terminal building at Brize. Meeting Charles's Mum and Dad for the first time was going to be even more stressful than those TV interviews!
The TV interviews. That brought her back to this morning again. She'd handled those really well, if she did say so herself. Until recently, she would have been a nervous wreck doing anything like that, but now, even she could recognise that her self confidence had increased dramatically. Yes, all in all, it had been a successful day, and she had to admit she was flattered at being the centre of attention, the person the media had obviously chosen as the "face" for this particular investiture. But she was savvy enough to realise it was only transient, a flash in the pan. In a few days time she'd just be plain old Molly Dawes again. Not for the first time, her thoughts wandered back to the ceremony and, in particular, the end of her conversation with Prince Charles.
"It has been a privilege meeting you", the future king had said to her.
"It has been a privilege meeting you". Perhaps he said that to everybody? No, she could see in his eyes, and feel in his handshake, that he really meant it.
She had gone over that sentence so many times in her mind since those parting words were spoken this morning. It was an incredible thing for somebody to say to you, and especially someone as important as him. It felt very personal; so personal, in fact, that she didn't feel able to tell anybody about it, not even Charles.
Her darling Bossman had been telling her ad nauseam that she must believe in herself more, not put herself down all the time. But then his view of her was hardly objective, in the nicest possible way of course. But Prince Charles, he didn't know her from Adam. In the course of his duties and involvement with the military, he must have met scores, if not hundreds, of people who have won awards for bravery. But he said THAT to HER.
She dried herself off in front of the steamy mirror, wiped a clear patch in the middle with her towel, and examined her face. Only four o'clock in the afternoon and I look all in. I love Mum, Dad and Nan but they can't 'alf rabbit, she thought, All the way to the palace in the taxi, all through lunch and all the way home they never stopped talking. Even now she could hear non-stop laughter and chatter downstairs, while they got the tea ready. What with that assault on me ear'oles and three TV interviews, it's no wonder I'm tired.
She wandered back to the bedroom and crashed out on her old bed, pulled the duvet over her and closed her eyes. It had been an incredible day, one she would always remember.
Then all of a sudden, something occurred to her. Today she'd received praise for her bravery from all manner of people; from the Prince, from the palace staff, from other recipients after the ceremony and from the TV reporters. She now realised, looking back, that when she had replied to all this praise, at no time, not even once, had she come back with her usual self-deprecating response, "Just doing my job".
As she drifted off, she was starting to understand what the day had done to her... it had given birth to a genuine sense of pride, not only pride at having represented the Army at such a high visibility event, but also, and more importantly, pride in herself. She was, at last, starting to accept the fact that not only was she an exceptional soldier but, just maybe, she might be an exceptional person too.