Disclaimer: I don't own Our Girl. Everything you recognise was created by Tony Grounds and is owned by the BBC.
Chapter 3
Charles James thought that he was going nuts. This was torture. At any other time he'd be delighted to be relaxing on a beach in Cyprus, but this was not any other time. He had not had an update on Molly since he'd arrived here 12 hours ago. At least at Bastion he knew what was going on; Major Watts had been fantastic about finding out Molly's condition and keeping him up to date, even after she'd been medevacced to Queen Elizabeth Hospital, Birmingham. He'd have to make sure he bought her a present when she got back; she had certainly gone out of her way to make sure he knew how Molly was doing, which was above and beyond the call of duty, and information he probably would not have been able to find out otherwise.
And the truth was, he needed a regular update because Molly had not been well at all. While she had stabilised well enough to be evacuated to the UK within 30 hours of being shot, since she arrived in the UK things had not gone so well. In fact pretty much nothing seemed to be going right for her. Bone chips in her shoulder had caused an additional, unexpected, bleed which necessitated a further operation, but that wasn't the worst. There had also been further internal bleeding in her abdomen and in addition she was fighting a nasty infection. Since she was injured she had not regained consciousness and it had apparently been very touch and go at times.
Now, in Cyprus, he had no idea what was going on and it was driving him crazy. About the only things to be said for his situation were that he was able to enjoy a beer, which was no small thing after nearly six months, and he had been able to talk to Sam and his parents. He had warned his parents that he wouldn't be able to come home straight away because two of his soldiers were in hospital and he needed to go to see how they were, but he would do his best to get down to Bath as soon as he was able. His mother had been disappointed, but being able to hear his voice and knowing he was uninjured had placated her to some extent.
At least the boys were better. When he had met them for their morning PT session the day after he had visited Molly at the hospital he had been able to tell them that she was looking better and that she would likely be evacuated soon. They had been reassured, and, when he had passed on the news about Smurf they had also been relieved. That morning's PT had been good for all of them. He had gone with them and the whole section had done their 5km in their fastest time ever – they had needed to get some stress out of them. It had also helped the boys get back on an even keel and they were, if not normal, much closer to it. The other sections had been great as well; challenging them to five-a-side football and fitness competitions and generally trying to bring the boys back. He had not passed on any of his news about Molly's worsening condition. He was still hoping she would be OK and it wouldn't be necessary.
His mobile phone vibrated. He wondered who it was; he had spoken to everyone who would be expecting him back. He saw that there was a text message from Qaseem. Qaseem had been as distraught as anyone with what happened to Molly. Perhaps more so. Over the course of their tour he had seen the two of them grow closer together, helped by Molly's genuine empathy for all those around her and Qaseem's admiration for all that Molly was developing into. In fact, Qaseem had observed to him just the week before their final mission that his daughter would have been Molly's age and that if she had been half the person that Molly was, he'd have been the proudest father in the world.
Qaseem had approached him in his office two days after the fateful events at the bridge to tell him that his time of service was at an end and that he had decided to go back to civilian life. However, he had asked that Charles please keep him up to date with what happened with Molly. He had passed over his e-mail address and mobile number and begged to be kept informed about how she was. He had been a good comrade and Charles was happy to do this. He had been passing on medical updates as and when he got them. Now he wondered what Qaseem wanted, and opened the message. Just two words, "Any news?" At least there was someone else going as mad as he was.
They were leaving for the UK at 06.00 tomorrow and if he was lucky, after he'd bedded the Platoon down, he might be able to get to the hospital by 18.00. He had already looked up a taxi company which said that they could get a car to him within 20 minutes of his call and if memory served it would take just over an hour to drive from the barracks in Bicester to Birmingham. Hopefully he would get in to see her.
But seeing her raised another question. He was sure that her parents would be there. What would he say to them? "Oh I'm your daughter's commanding officer. I know I have a duty of care but I royally screwed up and now she's fighting for her life" or maybe, "Oh I'm your daughter's CO and really want to be her boyfriend!" He didn't know – should he apologise, or should he just take her getting injured as a fact of war? Oh well, he had another 24 hours to decide what to do…
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
It was 17.30 when Captain James ran through the doors of the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham. Things had been going slowly until he'd told his NCOs that he wanted to expedite getting everyone settled into Barracks so that he could get to the Hospital to see Molly and Smurf, which was when the boys had miraculously stopped pissing around and moved straight to it; an indication if any were needed of the high regard in which Molly was held within the unit. He'd got the boys settled in, left Corporal Whitten in charge, dropped his bags off and whistled up a taxi, without even bothering to stop for a shower or to unpack. Major Beck had been as good as his word and the paperwork for a temporary leave of absence was waiting for him when he'd arrived at Barracks. He would need to drop it off at Company admin when possible.
He was studying the hospital layout, trying to establish where Molly would be, when a voice called, "Captain! Captain James!" He swung round to find Smurf's mother hurrying across the hospital foyer. She slowed as she reached him. This was unexpected. He hadn't seen her since Geraint's funeral and she looked a lot better than on that day, but still tense, which he supposed was quite understandable given the situation. He wasn't sure how to react to her, how would she feel about him? Geraint had died under his command and Smurf had been injured and now he had this brain issue. Oh well, he was about to find out.
"Captain James! I thought it was you," she just about gushed. This wasn't really the reaction he had antcipated, "Have you just got back?" she asked, gesturing at his uniform, "I suppose you wanted to see Molly and Smurf as soon as possible." He was surprised, how did Mrs Smith know Molly? The question must have shown on his face because Mrs Smith smiled at him, "Oh, I picked Molly and Smurf up from the airfield when they came for their leave, and I met her then. Such a lovely girl. But you know that. I bumped into her mother on the first day here, and I've spent some time sitting at her bedside when her parents weren't here."
She paused and visibly composed herself, "Captain James. I want to thank you for what you did for Dylan. He hasn't really told me what happened to make him break down. He's still really confused, but his surgeon told me that that was normal but that you were the one that flagged that he hadn't been acting right and that he needed a full check. The surgeon told us that the full check-up almost certainly saved his life since the lesion wouldn't have been spotted otherwise." Her hard-won control was starting to desert her, and the tears were starting to fall as she finished, "Thank you. I know you tried to save Geraint, and now you have saved Smurf. I wouldn't be able to cope if he had gone as well. If there's ever anything I can do for you…please just ask." And she broke down in tears.
In his wildest dreams of how this conversation could go, Charles had never expected it to go this well. If only his meeting with Molly's parents could go like this, but he wasn't expecting that. He reached out consolingly to Mrs Smith and gently tried to pat her shoulder and comfort her, as she gave up battling her emotions and threw her arms around him in a hug, "Oh, I'm so sorry," she gasped, "It's just been so difficult." She continued, starting to regain control of herself. He was initially tense, but understanding her emotional turmoil he tried to relax and continued to pat her back reassuringly. Finally she managed to regain some control and she pulled back from the embrace. "Anyway," she started in a firmer voice, "you didn't come here to see me. Let me take you up to the ward. Dylan has been down for a procedure but should be back within the next hour or so, so we should go to see Molly. She's not been too well I'm afraid, but she seemed to be looking a bit better today."
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
Charles James stood at the window outside Molly's room in ICU, desperately trying to gather his thoughts. She was lying on a hospital bed unmoving, covered by a white hospital blanket. While she seemed to have less wires sticking out of her than when he had seen her at Bastion, she was still hooked up to a life support machine. Where her skin showed it looked pale, paler than it had looked in the hospital at Bastion, but not as pale as just after she had been shot. A blonde-haired older woman was sitting with her back to him in a chair next to the bed, holding Molly's hand.
After showing him Smurf's and then Molly's room, Mrs Smith (Candy as she insisted he called her) had retired back to Smurf's room to wait for him to come back from his procedure (apparently he was having a lumbar puncture). Seeing his apparent nervousness she had squeezed his arm briefly and told him she would leave him to it and see him later.
He supposed he should get on with this. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his beret, checked his uniform was as tidy as possible and knocked on the door. The woman looked up. "Mrs Dawes?" he asked, "I'm Captain Charles James, Molly's Commanding Officer."
"Nah, I ain't Mrs Dawes," replied the woman, "That's me daughter, Belinda. I'm Molly's Nan, Mrs Smith, but you can call me Marge."
That threw him. All of his carefully prepared lines went out the window, and he stuttered out, "Erm, I'm really very sorry about Molly, Mrs Smith. I did my best to take care of her but I wasn't good enough."
The woman's stern visage relaxed slightly, and she smiled at him sadly, "She's a handful at the best of times, and ain't that the truth! We don't blame you Captain James. In fact, the doctors told us you saved Mol's life, so we should thank you."
This acceptance pushed him over the edge. The guilt had been overwhelming him and everyone was being so understanding. "But you should blame me, Mrs Smith! I was her CO. I'm supposed to protect her, not her protect me. I'm the reason she was hurt in the first place. It's because I screwed up. Several times!"
The woman, Mrs Smith, gently put Molly's hand back on the bed, stood up and turned fully to face him. "I don't know what 'appened out there Captain James. An' I probably never will. All I know is that when push came to shove you saved Our Molly's life. That's all that matters to us and it's all that should matter to you, an' all. Stop blamin' yerself fer the past and focus on the 'ere an' now, young man. Now, why don't you spend a bit of time wiv 'er. She's bin askin' fer you – assumin' you're "Boss"?"
He was stunned, first by this easy acceptance, and then by the implication that Molly was awake, and was asking for him. "She's conscious?" he gasped.
"Well, not at the moment, as you can see. She's woken a few times today for short periods. She's well confused. But she's asked fer you a few times. Now come an' sit 'ere and you can spell me while I get some tea. Do you want a cuppa?"
He could barely answer her, so focused was he on getting to Molly. "Er, no thanks" he managed as he went to sit next to Molly and grasped her hand.
Marge watched him with a small smile. There's more goin' on 'ere than meets the eye. Still, at least 'e's got his priorities right she thought as he gently grasped her granddaughter's hand and told her, "I'm here Molly, I told you I'd be here for you." Then, sensing that her granddaughter was in good hands, she headed out for a cup of tea and a fag. And she just thought she might call Belinda as well and tell her about the rather dishy new addition to the Molly Dawes fan club!
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
Molly's rather gorgeous CO had been sitting at her bedside for about 20 minutes when Marge Smith returned. It had been really great to get some fresh air and enjoy a cup of tea and a fag. Since Molly had been returned to the UK Belinda and her had been taking turns in spending time with Molly; someone needed to look after the kids, and even though Dave was clearly trying, he sucked at cooking and cleaning and wasn't one of life's copers. In fact his ability to cope had taken a bad hit with Molly's injury altogether. While he had come to the hospital on the first visit with Belinda, he had been so upset by the sight of Molly (and it was true she had looked, and continued to look, pretty awful) that he had not been able to face coming back since then.
So Belinda and Marge had taken over the responsibility; keen not to leave Molly on her own at any point just in case she woke up, or the worst happened. Shazza, to give her her due (which Marge did not like doing one bit!) had been fantastic. Helping with cooking and cleaning and generally coming round to keep morale up. And it was tough – there was no getting away from that. Breaking the news to the kids had been the worst. Bella was distraught, and the younger kids didn't understand. Plus they had all wanted to come and see her, but taking five kids on the train up and down from Birmingham was just out of the question. It wasn't only the logistics, it was the cost. Bella had come up once for a few hours, but had clearly been shattered by seeing the big sister she had often fought with, but always loved and respected, lying on a bed fighting for her life, and she hadn't asked to come up again.
Marge wasn't getting any younger and all the travel and the stress was getting a bit wearing. She wondered if things might change now there was a new player in the game. She had decided not to tell Belinda about the dashing Captain, just in case he didn't stay, although she had a gut feeling he was the real deal.
She paused outside to watch them. He was gently massaging Molly's hand with the back of his thumb and talking to her. She knew it! There was definitely something going on there. This wasn't normal behaviour for a commanding officer; not from what she understood anyway. It was kind of sweet though, so she wouldn't call him on it just now. As she made to re-enter the room, she noticed the senior consultant entering the ward by the nurses' station. It must be time for evening rounds and he should be along in about 10-15 minutes hopefully. It would be good to get an update and see if Molly was actually better this time or if it was a false dawn again.
As she got closer, she realised he was telling her his news. What a darling! Apparently someone called Kinders had called someone called Fingers a minger which had nearly sparked a fight! She cleared her throat, and he must have jumped about four feet in the air as if she'd caught him doing something dodgy! She grinned at him, and he gave a half smile back, gently placing Molly's hand back at her side and relinquishing the chair, "Now I know where Molly gets her mischievous streak from Mrs Smith."
"And don't you believe it Captain! Taught 'er everything I know!
"If you have a chat with the nurses they should be able to rustle you up another chair. Then you can tell me all about yerself, cos I reckon we're gonna be 'ere fer a while!" Like a good little soldier he hastened to obey her command. This one's a good 'un an' all she thought, just how does Molly find them?
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
Captain James looked up from where he had been talking to Molly's grandmother, who had turned out to be great company and a real laugh, about how Molly came to join the Army (threw up in the doorway of the recruiting office, did she? He was going to have lots of fun with that nugget of information when she woke up!), as a tall man clad in a white coat over a grey suit and with greying black hair and piercing blue eyes appeared in the doorway, followed by a gaggle of nurses and a younger woman, also in a white coat, with a stethoscope around her neck.
"Ah, you must be Captain James" exclaimed the man, walking into the room, "My wife told me you'd be here soon. I'm Richard Matthews, senior ICU consultant."
Captain James was a bit shocked, to say the least, but he stood up and faced the man, reaching out to shake the proffered hand, "I'm sorry sir, your wife?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Dr Matthews, "You probably know her as Major Watts, but around here she's known as Dr Watts and is deputy head of this hospital's A&E department. She's been asking about Private Dawes every day and told me a little about her so I know that she'll be pleased that I've seen you!"
"Uh" replied Captain James articulately. Then, making a conscious effort to marshal his scattered thoughts, he managed, "Major Watts is your wife? I wondered how she managed to get all the info on Molly. Now I know. Please thank your wife, sir. I think I would have gone mad by now without her updates. In fact, while I was in Cyprus I thought I would go mad!"
The consultant smiled. "I'll tell her Captain. I understand that both Private Dawes and Private Smith owe you their lives. It's a pleasure to meet you. And now let's see how Private Dawes is doing shall we?" and with that he lifted up her chart and began to examine it. Charles and Marge stood back away from the bed while the doctors and nurses examined Molly and pored over her chart. They drew the curtains around the bed, presumably so that they could look at her wounds.
Eventually the curtains were pulled back and most of the doctors and nurses left the room, but Dr Matthews and a nurse clad in green fatigues stayed behind to talk to them, "Well, the good news is that the infection seems to be fading, but her blood pressure is low. Now that could be down to a few things, but one of those could be that she is bleeding again internally. We are going to send her for an ultrasound to find out. At this point, and with the number of procedures she's had and the severity of her injuries, it's better to be safe than sorry. The team will be in to collect her within 30 minutes and she should be back within the hour unless it is internal bleeding in which case she'll go straight to theatre. Whichever way, we'll keep you informed." The consultant gave a sad smile, "I'm sorry Captain that we haven't been able to stabilise her for you, but we're doing the best we can. And she's a real fighter as well."
"It's all right sir. I think I speak for both of us when I say thank you for your efforts." He looked across at Marge, and she nodded her head but was unable to speak.
With a small smile, the consultant took his leave and Captain James looked across concernedly at Molly's grandmother. He could tell that she was barely hanging on. He could only imagine what it was like for her. He had known Molly for less than six months and he already loved her. How must her family feel when they had lived with her for 19 years? Also, over four tours he had seen situations like this many times. Some had gone badly, like Geraint, but he had seen many badly injured soldiers survive as well. He knew that the longer Molly lasted the more likely she was to make it. His girl was a fighter and she was still fighting. It was the job of a soldier in war to support the people who needed it; Molly had taught him that. He realised that he needed to be here for her family as much as her. She would need both them and him over the course of her recovery.
Decision made, Captain James reached across and pulled Molly's Grandmother into a hug. "Molly's a fighter," he told her, "and she's still fighting. She'll get through this. You'll see." After initially hesitating, the old woman clung onto him, "It's just terrible seeing 'er like this. So 'elpless. I'm 'er Nan. I'm supposed to be able to 'elp 'er but I can't do anythin'. I feel so useless."
Charles smiled bitterly into the old woman's hair, "I know exactly how you feel. I would do anything for our positions to be reversed. I would give anything if it was me in that bed and her standing here whole." Eventually they moved apart, and returned to their vigil, but now with a new understanding of each other. About 10 minutes later Molly's bed was wheeled out for her test and 20 minutes after that a nurse came in to tell them that there was indeed internal bleeding and that Molly was being taken to theatre. They were told it would be several hours before she came back.
Charles looked over at Marge as the nurse left the room. She looked terrible, and he asked, "Where are you staying?" thinking that he could stay here while she went for a rest. "We can't afford to stay in a hotel so me or Belinda have just bin stayin' at the hospital. There's a relative's quiet room and we've bin kipping there, or just in 'ere when she's bad. I've bin 'ere since yesterday, but Belinda is coming up tomorrow morning to take over."
He was stunned and furious at the same time, "You mean no-one's offered you any accommodation? But they must have relatives' accommodation here! Leave this to me. I'll be back in a minute." And with that he strode out.
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
Marge was a bit flummoxed by Captain James' reaction, but really impressed. He was a good 'un, that was for sure. She hadn't expected anyone as "establishment" as him to stand up for her, that was for certain, but he had. Maybe that's what Molly saw in him. Maybe Molly saw beyond his posh, public school exterior and had seen the human being underneath. She hadn't expected him to hug her, although it was hugely appreciated as she was finding it really difficult to cope with Molly's new setback, and then for him to flip over her sleeping arrangements clearly showed that this young man had a much greater capacity to care than she had given him credit for. Maybe it was the uniform; while he looked damn good in it, maybe it was difficult for her to see beyond the fact that he was a soldier. She'd have to think about that a bit more, but something told her she'd be seeing a lot more of Charles James so there'd be plenty of time to consider his hidden depths. She took a seat to wait for him, conscious only then of how tired and wrung out she was.
About ten minutes later he strode back in. "OK, I've arranged a room for you tonight in the hospital's relatives' quarters, and one for Molly's mother tomorrow night. They normally charge for them, but you've got them for free." Seeing her open her mouth, he continued, "You're knackered and you aren't going to do Molly any good if you end up in here yourself. You get a good night's sleep and I'll stay here with her, and if you could relieve me at 7am tomorrow, since I have to go back to Bicester for a few hours tomorrow morning. Don't worry, if anything happens they will contact you immediately, but you deserve a good night's sleep."
Well he was pretty impressive when he took charge. Now she could understand the attraction, but where was he going to sleep?
"Oh don't worry about me," he replied to her question, "after nearly 10 years in the Army I can sleep anywhere." And then he continued, "Now, Molly's going to be in theatre for another few hours and it's nuts to stay here, so why don't I treat you to a slap up dinner in the hospital canteen?! We'll tell them where we are in case they need to contact us."
He seemed to have thought of everything, so there was only one possible answer, "Ooh Charlie. You really know how to show a girl a good time!"
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
6.30am came a bit early for Marge Smith. Dinner last night had been fun. They had bumped into the other Mrs Smith, Smurf's mum, and invited her along, and she had joined them. Apparently Smurf was sleeping his lumbar puncture off. She bet he was; Nelly Rogers had been diagnosed with MS and had had a lumbar puncture and hadn't enjoyed it one bit. She had had a cracking headache for the next three days, so she reckoned young Smurf was better off sleeping. They had just managed to squeeze into the restaurant before it closed, and Captain James had indeed pushed the boat out, treating them to a three course meal of school dinner food!
But it had been so good to get out of the ward, and she had enjoyed talking to Candy, someone who had also been through what she was going through, and Charlie had continued to be a good companion – he was obviously someone who was socially confident – she supposed you probably had to be in in his job. He kept the conversation going when it lagged by dropping in anecdotes about Molly and Smurf, and even Geraint sometimes, giving tantalising insights into a world to which neither Mrs Smith was privy.
When they had got back to the room about 8.30pm Molly was still not back, but Captain James immediately got an update from the nurses and was told she was on her way back and that the operation had been a success, and she had duly been wheeled in about 10 minutes later. They had sat by her bed talking for another half hour, at which point the surgeon had come in and confirmed that the operation had been a success and told them that now it was just a matter of waiting. After that Charlie had chased her out of the room and told her to get some sleep and reassured her that he would stay with Molly all night.
The relatives' quarters had been perfectly comfortable, although all she wanted was a bed by that time. She had taken some time out to call Belinda and tell her about the evening, although she hadn't passed on her suspicion that Captain James was a lot closer to Molly than he let on. Her female intuition was shouting out to her that he was something more than her CO, but she would be interested to see whether Belinda came to the same conclusion. However, she did tell her about his visit and the fact that he had gone to bat for the Dawes family and secured accommodation for them, and that he was staying with Molly overnight. Belinda was initially disappointed that she wouldn't get to meet him tomorrow, until Marge told her that he intended to come back in the afternoon. They had caught up a bit on what the kids were up to and then Marge had crashed.
She walked into Molly's room at 6.50am to find him in roughly the same position as she had left him last night. "Don't you ever sleep?" she demanded.
He looked at her and smiled, "I did get a bit, but I wake up with the daylight. I think it's an Army thing!"
"Has there been any change?" she asked, and he replied, "Not really, but she's been a bit restless a couple of times and I really thought she might wake up an hour ago, but she relaxed again and now she's sleeping. Lazy cow!" He delivered this insult in such a deadpan voice that she couldn't help but laugh. "The nurses have been monitoring her regularly though and apparently her condition is improving, so fingers crossed." He looked at his watch, "I'm going to make tracks Marge, the sooner I get back to the Barracks, the sooner I can get back here."
She went over and hugged him, "Thank you for coming Charlie, and thank you for 'elpin' me out. I really needed that night's sleep. And thank you for bein' 'ere for Molly. It looks like she was very lucky that she got you as her Captain."
"Actually I was the lucky one Marge. Please tell Mrs Dawes that I'll be back this afternoon, if that's OK?" he asked, pulling away from her.
"Why wouldn't it be?"
He looked down and chewed his lip slightly, "Well, you know, she might be angry at me."
She glared at him, "I told you to forget whatever you blame yerself for Charlie, and don't think you're too old for me to put you across my knee, young man! She's dyin' to meet you actually. Now get goin' and I'll see you soon!"
He smiled weakly at her, told her "You've got my mobile number if anything happens," threw one last glance at Molly and left.
She walked over to her granddaughter, sat down and grasped her hand. "You got yerself a real good 'un there Mols, an' no mistake."
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
Molly Dawes opened her eyes to bright sunlight coming through the windows. Windows? Where was she? She looked around to see a white painted room, and was conscious of the rhythmic beep of a life support machine. Then she became conscious of herself. She was lying on her back, propped up slightly. She could feel various needles in her body – her arms, her neck, but no pain. What had happened? Where was she? Someone was holding her hand. "Boss?" she asked, although the word was barely intelligible and came out as a rasp. The person holding her hand stood up and she saw her Nan lean over her.
"Mols?" she asked, before leaning over and pressing a button near the bed. "Oh, thank God. You've had us all really worried Molly Dawes." She reached out, and ran her hand through Molly's hair like she used to do to relax her when she was young.
Molly swallowed and tried to lick her lips, "Nan?" she asked, and this time it came out more intelligibly, although still very quiet.
"Of course, you silly girl. Your mum'll be 'ere later. She's on 'er way." Her Nan had tears in her eyes. Just as she finished her sentence, the door opened and a nurse ran in. She was wearing blue surgical scrubs. Nan swung towards her and told her, "She just woke up."
The nurse smiled radiantly and said, "Hi Molly, I'm Rachel. Welcome back to the land of the living. Are you in any pain?"
Molly had to think about that one. She couldn't really feel anything, but she couldn't move that much. "No, bu' I can' move" she slurred.
"Don't worry about that," replied Rachel, "You've got a number of injuries and we're keeping you immobilised to help with healing. You'll be able to move soon."
Molly digested that. It felt difficult. As though she were thinking through treacle. She looked at her Nan again. "Mum? Bossman?"
Her Nan smiled. "Your Mum's bin 'ere love. We're taking it in turns and she's due 'ere in a few hours. You just missed Captain James. 'E sat with you all last night. 'E left an hour ago but said 'e'd be back this afternoon."
She watched, touched, as her granddaughter smiled as she drifted back off to sleep. Oh yes, there was definitely something going on here. Molly's reaction to the news that her CO had spent the night at her bedside confirmed it. She turned to the nurse, who was checking Molly's blood pressure and making some notes on her chart. "It's a better sign, Mrs Smith" she told her, "she seemed less disorientated. Hopefully she is turning the corner. I'll get a doctor in here as soon as possible."
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
The cab was just turning into the barracks when Charles' mobile phone vibrated. He pulled it out and looked at it. Unknown number. He opened the message. She woke up again. More lucid. She asked for you. Told her you'd be here this afternoon. Marge.
Thank God, thought Charles. He knew that this might be a major turning point for Molly. With her waking up, and being more lucid, things were looking much more positive. At least that was what the registrar had told him last night. It was interesting, they were prepared to talk to him a lot more than they were to her family. Maybe it was the uniform or maybe they still recognised his duty of care and reckoned that as someone who had seen it before he would be better-placed to cope. She had told him that if Molly woke up and was less disorientated that would be a really good sign. Fingers crossed. And toes. And everything else. At least now he had some good news for the boys. And Qaseem.
- OG - OG - OG - OG -
By 14.00 Charles was on his way back to Birmingham. He'd just got back just in time to join the Platoon on their pre-scheduled morning PT session at 08.00. He had been pleased to be able to pass on some more upbeat news on Molly and Smurf. The boys were keen to see both of them but he had had to tell them that until they got out of ICU, visitors were restricted. He had mentioned that he was happy to take a card or cards though and the boys thought that was a great idea and made sure he had cards for both of them. Several of the lads in 2 Section had also written letters for Molly, which he was sure she'd be touched by. The date for their homecoming parade had been set for next Tuesday, 22 April; after which they would all go their separate ways for a while. That meant he really needed to get a move on with the post-tour paperwork which would need to be submitted before he went on leave. As a result he had a bunch of reports and his laptop with him. At least he would have plenty to do while he waited for Molly to wake up!
He had made sure that he had submitted his leave papers to Company Admin. He was due over a month's leave anyway, from being on tour, and he had plenty of additional leave stored up as well. He would make sure that he was there for Molly during her recovery. He owed her that much. In fact he owed her a lot more. He hoped she wouldn't be too affected by her injuries. He was sure that she would be chomping at the bit to get up and about as soon as possible and he reckoned the enforced bed rest was going to be really tough for her. He'd have to make sure she was kept busy. Between her family, him and the boys he was sure that they should be able to keep her spirits up. He hoped so, anyway.
He was worried about the continued separation from her family. He knew she was very close to her mum and grandmother and that she loved all the little ones as well, and she would miss them terribly if she couldn't see them. Marge had already hinted that the trips to and from Birmingham were putting a lot of pressure on the Dawes' finances, and she had basically told him that they couldn't afford to stay overnight, which was why they stayed in or outside Molly's room at the hospital. Was there any way he could help with that? He wasn't sure what he could do to help with transport, apart from to help drive them back and forth but he didn't have a car at the moment so he would have to think about that.
Maybe he could help with accommodation though. He didn't fancy commuting to and from Bicester all the time so he had already considered renting a room in Birmingham close to the hospital. What if he hired a flat? Then whichever Dawes was staying in Birmingham could stay there as well as him. That could work. He would have to be careful how he pitched it though – he knew the Dawes would not respond well to charity. Maybe he could suggest that he was going to be staying there anyway so they could just stay over. He'd have to give it some thought. He would ask the nurses and doctors at the hospital; with lots of military and military reserve people working there, who would be liable to move around a lot, they must know the best places and rates.
He spent the rest of the journey catching up on his sleep. Knowing that Molly was in a better state was a real weight off. His key concerns now were that Molly continued to improve, and that his meeting with Mrs Dawes went as well as his meeting with her mother. It would take a few more days before Molly was fully with it, he thought, but he hoped to have that important conversation with her that he'd promised himself back at Bastion.
A/N 1 Thanks again to Marc for his great advice on trauma injuries and treatment. Again, all mistakes are my own.
A/N 2 I've chosen Bicester as Major Beck's company's home base. It's within an hour and a half's drive of Birmingham. There is an existing Army base there.
A/N 3 Smurf's condition: brain lesions can be down to a number of conditions including: trauma, infection, cancer, vascular, neurological, genetic, etc. He's having tests to eliminate some of the key causes. The Lumbar Puncture would eliminate neurological causes, but if they are eliminated he's likely to need further tests which could include operations on his brain…he's not out of the woods yet!
A/N 4 Regarding Molly's rather protracted recovery, this is quite normal after such significant trauma and the cardiac arrests. I recovered from a major trauma in 2001 and I was told subsequently that I regained consciousness several times for short periods before the first time that I actually remember regaining consciousness and I have no memory of people visiting me during those times. I faded in and out for another 24 hours before managing to stay awake for a prolonged period. I'm basing Molly's recovery on my experiences.