I'm not going to lie, I'm very disappointed in this chapter and I don't really know why but I started writing and I just didn't know where I was going with it. I hope it doesn't sound as waffle-filled as it does in my head!
Ever since Molly and Charles' moment of emotional confrontation, Molly tried her best to ignore her ex-husband as much as she could. Her head was still a mess and the pure sight of him did nothing to help her inner turmoil. Because even though a part of her wanted to him to hurt as much as she once did, seeing him around so frequently weakened her resolve. Every time they'd be training on the army base and she'd catch sight of him lifting, her mind would purposefully remind her of the multiple concaves of his chest or the feel of his rough skin against her body. Every time he barked an order, she could hear his voice muttering sweet nothings in her ear as she awoke from yet another post-tour nightmare. His presence on camp was toxic to Molly's wellbeing and so she did her best to dodge him whenever she could. But her mission was proving harder than in theory because waiting for the Americans to gain serious intel was a game of severe patience.
A game that consisted of two and six section being meshed together during most waking hours.
"Clark! A letter from your mother." Even tasks as simplistic as handing out post consisted of both platoons. Charles was handling the distribution of post this time, his voice ringing across the herd of soldiers. Molly tried her hardest to ignore his flickering gaze, her eyes focused on her lap as she fiddled absentmindedly with her fingers.
Once upon a time, she'd been as excited as Clark was now to receive a letter from back home.
"From your 'usband, Dawsey!" Somebody would shout and unashamedly, she'd grin back then as a member of her platoon flung a parcel or envelope in her direction. She'd love hearing about back home or about his experiences on tour. He'd tell her about his parents and their constant nattering, Sam and his progress at school but most importantly, each letter or gift sent to her expressed how much he loved and missed her.
So, it was safe to say, now, whenever the post arrived, Molly's excitement had dwindled down to that of a child on Christmas Eve who had just learnt that Santa wasn't real.
"Dawes!" Her name on his lips still brought back painful memories and Molly shifted awkwardly in her seat as Charles stared at her. "A letter from Bel-your mum." Charles corrected himself almost immediately, his mind chastising himself for the unprofessional slip of Molly's mother's name. The truth was, Charles had always had a good relationship with Belinda. He knew, despite her usual submissiveness to Dave, Belinda had her eldest daughter's best interests at heart; it was something he'd learnt almost immediately after meeting her.
They had been dating – officially - for a good few months before Molly had caved and decided to take Charles home with her. It wasn't that she didn't care for him or didn't want their relationship to progress, it was just that their lives were so completely different in the real world. In Afghan, they were just soldiers. They had each other's backs without the disturbance of the monotony of things like an upbringing. But, now that they were home, it was hard not to miss the clear juxtaposition between their normal lives. Charlie had a respectably good childhood, the type that adverts were based off. He was sent to boarding school, spent his holidays having sit down dinners and BBQ's in the sun; all pretty picturesque. Whereas, Molly was on the other end of the spectrum with her Brady bunch type upbringing. And honestly, she'd been petrified to take Charles home because she was scared he'd take one look at her crammed council owned flat and do a runner. She was so scared of that possibility that she'd been arguing with Charles every time he brought the matter up in conversation.
"It's Christmas, Mols. Don't you want to spend it with your family?"
Charlie had finally been relieved off his ankle boot following the Afghan injury and was still limping awkwardly around his family home in Bath. Even though Molly lived in London, she had taken up a temporary residence in Charlie's home under the pretence that she needed to look after him. His parents, Elizabeth and Nathan, who she had yet to meet, were still jet-setting around the world, leaving their only son to fend for himself. A reality that Charles wasn't complaining about; he loved how attentive Molly had been to him, more noticeably so after Smurf's passing. Charlie was getting to see a new side to her, one that he'd barely got a glimpse off and it was refreshing. He was falling in love with her more and more each day. But ever since his mobility had increased and he was back to a sense of normality, Molly had been doing everything in her power to pick a fight with him, especially when regarding her family.
The Christmas period was always a big deal in the James household. Even though for years it was only Charles and his parents, they had made a tradition out of the littlest things. A young Charlie would bounce with excitement at the prospect of baking sugar cookies or putting up the tree. And unconventionally, the excitement grew more prominent as he grew older; once Sam was born. It was that feeling of togetherness during the holiday season that always did it for Charlie, always reminded him of the most valuable things in life.
So, Molly's decision to stay in Bath - without any of her family – was questionable to her boyfriend at the time. He knew she loved them, the pictures of her siblings taped to the side of her bed in Afghan was proof of that. Molly also never hesitated to tell two section about them bleeding buggers which meant that there was only one other logical reason for her keeping him and her family separated – she wasn't ready, for real commitment – for them. Because she'd taken Smurf home during their first rest and recuperation without a second thought. And, deep down, that consolidated something that Charles had always known: that he and Molly were at different stages in their lives. She was much younger than he was, and she was a new recruit into the British Army. She had her whole life and plenty of tours ahead of her. On the other hand, Charlie was a divorcee with a child, a serious injury and no clue about what he wanted from life once he'd stopped living out of his bergen. And, their inability to relate on many levels was a big insecurity of Charles', despite his reluctance to admit it. After all, he prided himself in being a man of authority, the subject of the masculinity stereotype and admitting his emotions to a woman wasn't easy. But then again, nothing with Molly was easy. She was different, made him want to be different. Hence why Charles had been so overtly persistent about discussing her family.
"Drop it, will ya?" Molly was making the pair of them dinner, something she was surprisingly good at. Charlie had been living off expensive dinners, greasy take-outs and pot noodles until Molly had shocked him with a wholesome bowl of pasta her first night in Bath. She'd claimed her experience had all come from feeding her army of brothers and sisters. "The bleeders can do without me one year."
"You know we can spend Christmas in London, together-"
"We've talked about this." Molly dropped her spoon loudly against the saucepan and turned to face her boyfriend. Her facial expression was inexpressive, almost blank and her hostility seemed to cement the doubts that Charlie was having – she didn't want a serious relationship, at least not with him.
"Have we?" Charlie huffed and hobbled along the kitchen floor to perch himself opposite her against the kitchen counter. And despite her annoyance at the fact that the dreaded conversation about her family had been brought up again, Molly rushed to assist him as he walked. "Look, I'm not going to push you to take me anywhere if you don't want to … but we don't have to do this-"
"What you mean by that?"
"If this, us, if it's moving too quick or if you … want someone else-" Charlie closed his eyes as a foreign feeling overwhelmed his senses. It was the same feeling he had felt when Smurf had asked for his advice when he had wanted to propose to Molly – jealousy.
"Is that what you 'fink?" Molly scoffed, closing the gap between them quickly. She rested a hand on each of his biceps, her face barely reaching his chin as she craned to look him in the eye. "There's no one else, you muppet."
"You've just been fighting me on this for weeks. I thought I was pushing you away and you were-"
"Bein' a slag and sleeping with some other geezer whilst you were in physio?" Despite the colloquial terms and the stern expression on her face, Molly's tone of voice was one of humour. She was aware that that probably wasn't what he was thinking but she was hoping her comment would help sweep the elephant in the room under the carpet; the elephant that was her dysfunctional family.
"No, of course not!" This time, Charlie seized Molly's small frame into his arms, forcing their bodies tightly against one another. His forehead rested against hers, their breathes mingling and their chest heaving as one. "I just thought maybe you didn't want me to meet your family-"
"Because they're all fucking bonkers, mate!" Molly chuckled before letting a seriousness fall over her features. Her fingers traced Charles' features slowly, her mind reeling in the feel of him. She couldn't comprehend how a man like him had insecurities about her falling for someone else. Molly always felt too good for him and it baffled her completely to think that Charlie shared some similar doubts. "I 'fought they'd scare you off and I can't bare you runnin' off into the hills."
"I'm not going anywhere, Molly! It's why I wanted to meet your family to begin with. I want us to settle down properly and your family's a big part of you, a part I want to get to know." Charles gave her a light squeeze, his large arms enveloping her in a way that made her feel so protected. In that moment, Molly didn't know what she'd been worrying about. The reassurance and honesty in his eyes was enough for her to want exactly what he wanted – commitment, something she'd been scared of since Artan. "Besides, if they're even partly related to you, I gathered they'd have some screws loose."
"Oi! Don't let me nan catch you sayin' that. She'd kick you out the door before me dad could crack open a can."
"Does that mean you'll be more open to me meeting them someday?" A hopefulness sprouted within Charlie at the light exposure into Molly's familial life.
"How does Christmas sound?" Molly sighed after a weight suddenly lifted off her chest at Charlie's earlier minimal yet significant words of reassurance.
And true to her word, Molly took Charles home that Christmas Eve. Initially, she'd been incredibly hesitant, the nerves evident in her as her knee bopped aggressively on the train and her hold on his hand tightened that brief bit. But within seconds of being on the estate, Molly and Charles were attacked and shoved into the deep end of the craziness that was the Dawes family. There was no time to second guess anything; there was just sink or swim.
Charles swam.
"Don' hurt her, you 'ear me." Belinda and Charles were in the kitchen as the volume in the flat had settled down to a level that was bearable. Despite seeing how good the couple were together, Belinda had seen a heartbroken Molly before. Her break up with Artan had been one of the reasons why she'd joined the army in the first place. Belinda didn't want that again; her baby was so far from her still and she couldn't risk anymore distance, both metaphorically and physically. "She's a good one."
"She makes me happy." Despite Belinda's reservations, Charlie was quick to reassure her of the belief that he had Molly's best interests at heart. His honesty was transparent, and their conversation simmered there, leaving the pair in a comfortable silence, one that enabled them to truly pay attention to a smiling Molly. From their position in the doorway, they could see Molly with her baby brother, Martin, cooing and laughing. There was something about her with young children that made Charlie feel so proud. It was so easy for her to get people to like her; Sam was practically attached to her hip already.
"She's 'appy, too you know-" After a few minutes of silence, Belinda spoke again, this time with less of a warning in her voice. "With you, I mean. She ain't smiled like that in yonks."
"That's all I ever want to do, Belinda. Make her happy." Charles rested his fingers over Belinda's and the two unknowingly sealed the beginning of a new relationship with a mere squeeze of the hand.
From that point onward, even with all of their differences, Charlie and Belinda became an unlikely pair. Even though he'd gotten to meet her family, Charles still messaged Belinda secretly. Molly didn't like to talk about her pre-army days much, but Charlie saw it differently. Her wild, rebellious days shaped the woman that he loved, and he wanted to know every little thing about her. It had shocked Molly when she'd discovered the two had been texting prior to the day of their proposal; Charlie taking advice from his future mother-in-law about Molly's likes and dislikes. Belinda had told him about her fear of the ocean and deep waters – ruling out Charles' idea to propose on a boat. She'd told him about Molly's adoration for chocolate and overly sweet alcoholic drinks. They'd bonded over that experience; over Molly. But that wasn't always a good thing because it meant that Molly wasn't the only person who has heartbroken by Charles' eventual betrayal. Belinda had thrown the word hate at Charles a few times and as he handed Molly her letter from her mother, Charles felt his stomach drop with unexplainable guilt.
"Fanks." Molly muttered before seizing the letter out of his hand.
"Hold on, you've got another one, Dawes." Molly halted and turned with a look of confusion on her face. Nowadays she only ever received letters from her mum. Jackie usually sent her a letter or two, but she was deployed herself and barely got a chance to breathe let alone write. "A letter from a … Ben Thompson."
"Ooo! Molly and Ben sitting in a tree-" Members of six section - who were basically children - began to catcall at the mention of Molly's letter from a member of the opposite sex. They all knew who Ben was to Molly, but they loved making Molly blush profoundly. In the microcosm that was the camp base, Molly's life was, unfortunately, their source of entertainment. There were no TVs or books and so, the group of lads did all they could do embarrass Molly or add harmless fuel to the shit-show that was her marriage (purely because they could) "K-i-s-s-i-n-g!"
And despite Charlie not even knowing who Ben Thompson was, he felt a surge of jealousy fizzle throughout him. He had no right to feel threatened, but he did. Because the reality was that Charles had been a shitty husband and a year was plenty of time for Molly to have moved on. It had only taken him a few moments with her to fall in love and the thought of somebody else expressing those same feelings made his heartbeat erratically. Molly had had months of freedom – no ring on her finger – and the thought of her dating or worse, actually being with someone else, gave him the urge to vomit.
What if this was it for them? What if she had moved on? Found somebody else? Fallen in love?
Sudden images of Molly cuddled up with another man flashed into Charlie's mind and there was nobody but him to blame for it - he had done this, pushed her away.
"Shut it, you wankers." Molly rolled her eyes at her platoon's immaturity and announced her departure. "I'm gonna go see me head doctor."
As the days stretched on, Captain Adams had suggested that Molly keep confiding in two section's medic, Kumar Lalli. He was a British Indian man that had lost his wife to cancer and in grief. had decided to devote his time to his country. He'd been in service for over four years now and surprisingly, he was somebody that Molly found easy to talk to. He was a fresh perspective on Molly's life, somebody who barely knew Charles and her's backstory. He didn't have to pick sides or broadcast his opinion on the whole matter, he just listened, and Molly was thankful – for once – that her Commanding Officer had introduced the prospect of therapy.
"Ah, I was wondering where you got to." Kumar was leaning against a gurney, patiently expecting his fellow medic for their routine session.
"Was collecting this." Molly tore open the letter from Ben Thompson and handed it to Kumar, the grin on her face widening to exceptional levels.
"Is this what I think it is?" Kumar's smiled brightened to meet that of Molly's. In his hand was Molly's anatomy and nursing qualification certificate. She had missed the local college's graduation ceremony because of tour and her professor, Mr Thompson, who had assisted her through absolutely everything, had been pleased to send her a copy of the original document that was in the safe hands of The Royal Mail. "Congratulations, Dawes! You're a qualified nurse."
"Mad, init."
"How do you feel seeing that?"
"Oh, 'er we go with the questions!" Molly joked about Kumar's likeliness to a real therapist. He almost always answered her with questions; always picking and prodding at her mind to dig just that little bit deeper. All he needed was a couch to lie on and he had himself a business. "Truf-fully, I feel on top of the moon, Kumar."
"And why is that?"
"Just cuz'." Molly shrugged but Lalli's pressing look pushed her to talk some more. "I don't feel so …. helpless anymore, you know?"
"Is that what Charles made you feel, helpless?" That was another thing that Molly liked about Kumar, despite being Captain James' inferior, as a Private, he never referred to him as Captain when with Molly. In order to really gauge her emotions, Kumar knew he needed to build a sense of rapport, something that wasn't going to be achieved by calling her cheating ex-husband, 'Sir'
"A lil' bit, yeah." Molly deliberated the question before answering. After Charlie had broken her heart, she had felt lost. The days stretched into nights and the nights stretched into weeks. She was suddenly unsure of who she was and what she wanted from life and school had been that one thing that had given her a sense of purpose. Molly had never felt prouder of herself in that moment. For the first time in years, it felt like she'd done something for herself, by herself, and that was greatly rewarding. "Now I feel like … maybe, just maybe I'll be okay."
As she smiled, Kumar nodded discreetly. He had been updating Captain Adams on Molly's mental condition after every session and it was safe to say that she was seeming stronger and stronger as the days passed. Initially, he had been worried about how relaxed she appeared amongst the madness that was her life. Chana's death and Charles' reappearance all within the space of days had taken its toll on her but it seemed that her graduation certificate was something that Molly had needed. It reminded her that she was capable of living without the assistance of anybody else. She was a strong woman and without a doubt, Kumar had faith that she was more than capable of doing her job out on the field.
"I think you'll be okay too, Dawes."