This chapter turned into a bit of a monster. But it was necessary to get where i want to go next. So sorry in advance for all the time jumps

Fear (of the Unknown)

Molly sat in the back of a taxi watching the familiar sights of East Ham high street speed past the window. She observes all manner of people going about their business, completely oblivious to what is going on around them. She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breathe, trying to keep the memories at bay. As they pass the sight where the Earl of Wakefield pub once stood, now nothing more than a mountain of rubble, Molly feels a buzzing in her pocket. She reaches into her coat pocket and thumbs at the screen. Where R U? Molly smiles reading the text. Despite having only spoken an hour ago her mum still worried about her. She texts back quickly. Just past the Earl of Wakefield be 2 minutes xxx. The cab pulls up outside the block of flats. She looks up and sees the England flag fluttering in the window and a figure hunched over the balcony watching and waiting. As Molly moves towards the house the figure disappears back into the house. Nan. Oh she can run but she can't hide. She has some explaining to do.

Molly paid the taxi driver and headed towards the block of flats. She took the stairs that led to the upper level flats two at a time, when she reaches the front door she finds it already open, Nan stood leaning against the door frame, arms folded, eyes twinkling as she took in her eldest granddaughter. "Well well, look what the cat dragged in. Bout time you came home. We've been worries sick."

"Leave off Nan, you knew where I was anyhow didn't ya?" Molly replied with a raised eyebrow as she gives her Nan a hug before moved through the house into the living room. "So out with it what gives?"

"I don't know what ya talkin bout." Molly sent her a look that clearly said she didn't believe her. They were interrupted by the door opening as the rest of her family came charging into the room shouting her name. She found herself being enveloped in a big hug from her mum. "Aww Molls my baby girl is finally home. We were so worried." Her Dad stood watching the reunion. He gave Molly an uncertain smile and gave her shoulder a squeeze. Molly knew he was never one for sentiment.

"It was him wasn't it?" Molly looked confused as her Nan interrupted the reunion.

"Who was him?" Dave asked clearly unsure of what was going on.

"When you came home from R an R, you was much more confident. So grown up. You stuck up for your mum and told your dad all he had to do was hold her hand and he'd move up with her. This bloke, Charles is it? He's been the one holding your hand ain't he? Not Smurf like we first thought. That's why you went to Bath weren't it? Why you was so desperate to get to that hospital in Birmingham?" Nan finished. He parents shared a look. Molly stood in shock completely forgetting how perceptive her Nan can be. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "You've been staying with this bloke Charles in Bath? Who's he then?" Dave questioned.

"Yeah that's it. Charles was our CO. The Bossman. We developed feelings for each other on tour but decided to wait out. We couldn't be together caz of Army regulations and that. I didn't realise Smurf felt like that about me. He was only ever my friend. Anyway when we was on a mission to capture an insurgent we all got caught up in our personal issues and lost focus and they got shot. Charles and I met in Bath a few months ago and became a couple officially." Molly took a calming breathe knowing she needed to get this out. "I've been having nightmares and flashbacks from me time in Afgan. PTSD they call it. Most soldiers get it one time or another. When Smurf…. After what happened with Smurf and then having to get my medal. It hit me all at once that he was truly gone. That I couldn't do anything to save him. I needed to get away and talk with someone who understood what it was like. I love you lot. I really do but sometimes no matter what I say you just don't get it. Not like he does." Molly finished and studied her family's faces, waiting to see what they would do next.

Nobody said anything. The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity until Belinda finally broke the silence. "This Charles he's good to you is he?" Molly gave a soft smile as she answered.

"Yeah he is. He's different to the others mum. In an entirely different league actually. He supports me and encourages me to push myself to be better. He thinks I've the potential to be brilliant. He won't let me settle for less. He don't care that I live on a council estate and don't have any GCSE's or that I don't talk proper English. He quite enjoys taking the piss actually calls them "Dawesisms." Bloody Cockwomble. He reads poetry an plays bloody rugby. He steals me coco pops an makes me laugh. When I'm with him, all our differences just disappear, I can just be me. He makes me happy. For the first time I'm truly happy."

Nan finally spoke up. "Posh bloke is he? Sounded it on the phone mind." Molly rolled her eyes and a laugh. "Yeh he is rather. Lives in one of them posh houses on Royal crescent in Bath. It's gorgeous. By the way how do you know what he sounds like? Charles wouldn't tell me anything."

"I phoned you. He answered. Apparently you was in the shower. He was ever so polite. A real charmer you got there Molls. He promised to look after you and he's been keeping us updated like. Told us not to worry about ya. Stupid thing to say. Course we was worried." Nan looked at Molly with a knowing look. "I told you before about how I let the good one go. We all thought Smurf was nice. But this Charles. You've definitely got a good un there. They only come along once in a lifetime. If you're lucky. Don't balls this up like I did. He sounds like an absolute Diamond."

"That you saying you approve?" Molly joked.

"Too right. I'm telling you, if I was 20 years younger Molls." Everyone laughed. Despite her reservations. It really was nice to be home.

Molly stood on the podium in the auditorium of the medical faculty at the University of Kabul, surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces. When she had first arrived she was glad to be back in Afghan, although it felt weird without the lads of 2 Section and Bossman. They couldn't believe Molly was heading back so soon but they understood why she had to go. Bastian, though a shell of its former self, was still a hub of activity as the last few remaining troops faced the mammoth task of shipping supplies, equipment and weapons before to the UK, before dismantling a base bigger that most of UK's cities as they prepare to handover and withdraw for good. Kabul however, was an entirely different ball bag. Still an area of unrest after recent terrorists attacks the Capital was still as dangerous as ever and everyone was on high alert just in case.

Molly glanced down at her notes one final time, as her lecture drew to a close, taking care to make sure she was using proper English and the correct medical terms. Charles had joked that she could have the Afgan medics speaking Cockney in no time if she put her mind to it. He's received a clip round the ear for that one. Although hesitate at first, she loved training the medics. She felt like she could truly make a difference and leave her mark. Her trainees were so enthusiastic and eager to learn. They hung on her every word asking questions, eager to learn as many new skills as they could to help save lives. "They used to talk about the 'golden hour'... how we as medics had the first hour to treat the patient to intervene to save their lives. Now the talk is of the 'platinum ten minutes.' You are the first people on the ground. Your actions in those first few minutes are what will determine whether you lose a life or save a life. You have a narrow window of opportunity. Disasters happen when we are not 100 % focused. It is important that you stay focused. Stay alert. Stay Alive if we are to minimise the loss of limb or life in Afghanistan." Molly smiled at her audience. "Thank You." She looked out into the applauding crowd and spotted a familiar figure entering from the back of the auditorium. She grinned to herself as she shook the hands of the senior officers, before being dismissed.

"Well well Molly Dawes. Who is the teacher now?" Qaseem joked as he took her hand between his.

"Yeah that's it. Look out Kabul," Molly laughed. Qaseem led Molly out of the auditorium and through a series of long corridors before directing her into what appeared to be his office. Once seated Qaseem looked unsure about what to say. Finally he spoke somewhat hesitantly. "I've found her."

"I want to see her then," Molly interjected immediately

"Molly it can never happen. Just trust me that she has been moved to a safe place and she is doing well. Please don't compromise your safety to see what I am telling you." He spoke imploringly. But Molly Dawse was nothing if not stubborn as Qaseem knew all too well. "I want to see for myself. You know I'll go on my own don't you." Qaseem sighed defeated.

"Yes."

The Journey through Kabul was one fraught with tension as Qaseem navigated through the chaotic streets with Molly, dressed in a burqa, sat in the back. "I'm giving you my 14 grand deployment money so she can have an education and all she needs for a new life. I'm trusting you to look after her for me. I doubt you'd be the type to spend it on wine, women and song." Molly informed Qaseem.

"What if I like a good song?" Qaseem questioned as he pulled up in front of the safe house. "The guards know me. I will say you are my wife. Once inside you will only have a few minutes whilst I talk with the guards. Then you are to return to the car." Molly doesn't respond only nods and gazes at the house apprehensively, nervously playing with her hands.

Qaseem greets the guards and introduces Molly. He stands and talks as she moves further into the courtyard her steps slow and hesitant. She spots Bashira sat with another child happily teaching her sang chill bazi. She senses Qaseem approach behind but she can't take her eyes away from Bashira. "Are you not going to talk to her?" He asks softly. Molly takes a deep breath and moves towards her removing her niqab as she draws closer. Bashira spots her and Molly calls her name smiling broadly. Bashira races towards Molly calling her name excitedly. They hug for a long time, Molly crying tear of relief at seeing Bashira safe and happy. She knows without a doubt that it was all worth it. Charles always said that people were not wholly bad or good. Molly could see now that she had been wracked with guilt because she was never entirely sure if she had made the right choice. Would it be a good thing or a bad thing if Bashira was taken away? Looking at Bashira now, she knew that despite all the bad choices she had made in the past this was definitely not one of them. Bashira had been given a chance to be better. Molly knew now that the cog she had though she had irrevocably broken could indeed be fixed. Who knows maybe in the future Bashira will have an opportunity to fix a few small cogs on her own and make a difference to someone else.

Molly looked up at the imposing building made of Bath stone. A big scary house indeed. Although she has to admit Charles was right. The place truly is magical. She hesitates for a split second, shivering in the frigid December air, before raising her hand to bang the ornate knocker against the big heavy door, being careful not to disturb the wreath surrounding it. The door opens and there he's stood looking casual in a green checked shirt and garden gloves. His face is a picture of shock as he takes her in for the first time in months.

"Missed me?" she asks cheekily, an impish smile on her face.