The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows

Margaret James was sat on the patio steps sipping from a glass of wine and reading a book. It was nice to be home. As much as she loved travelling sometimes you couldn't beat being at home. Despite the late hour, the James family had all gravitated to the garden leaving doors and windows thrown wide as they tried to entice the non-existent breeze into the house. As the last rays of the July sun dipped below the horizon, the sky was left awash with colour. It reminded Margaret of when Charles used to paint as a child. He'd dip his paint brush in any paint pot within reach, never caring when contrasting colours would merge together on the page to create varying shades and tones. As her thoughts drifted to her son her eyes naturally strayed from her page, gravitated towards where he sat dozing on the gently swaying porch swing. Despite his injuries he appeared relaxed and dare she say it almost content, as he used his good leg to push the swing back and forth gently. The stuffy, oppressive heat of the July evening had made sleeping nigh impossible, never mind having to deal with flashbacks, nightmares and excruciating pain.

"You're staring again."

Margaret jumped as her son's voice filled the silence. When Margaret glanced back at Charles his eyes were open and his lip twitched as he fought a smirk. Margaret huffed at being caught out and sent her son a withering glare. "I don't know what you're talking about Charles. I've been sat here reading my book and minding my own business." Charles raised an eyebrow and chuckled, clearly not believing her.

"So is that why you've been reading the same page for nearly 15 minutes then?" He asked cheekily as he watched his mother blush. He never tired of winding her up, she made it far too easy. His phone buzzed and he glanced worriedly at the screen. Who on earth was texting him at this late hour? "Everything alright?" Margaret enquired softly.

"Humm?" Distracted by the text Charles looked up meeting his Mother's inquisitive gaze. Margaret watched his expression shift from worried to ecstatic to completely blank in a matter of seconds. Margaret shook her head ruefully before asking slyly, "Did Molly say how she was settling in back home when you saw her this week?"

"Molly's struggling a bit if I'm honest. She says she can't seem to settle or sit still. I think she might be having nightmares too. But Molly being Molly refuses to talk about it. Stubborn mare!"

Margaret smiled triumphantly to herself. Since his injuries Charles' had been rather cagey about talking about what happened in Afghan. His letters home had been filled with stories of Bastian and life in the Army. He'd alluded to a medic in his letters on occasion, but nothing obvious that would lead anyone to believe their relationship had progressed to anything beyond Captain and Private. It wasn't until Margaret had received a phone call from Rebecca that she had even discovered the name of the woman who had saved her son's life. Rebecca had briefed Margaret on the details of their brief encounter and shared her suspicions that there was something more going on. Margaret had smiled when Rebecca described how Molly had awkwardly downplayed her involvement in saving Charles' life, instead choosing to make light of the situation by making a joke that made Sam laugh. Judging by the slight panicked look her son was now sporting, it was clear he realised that he had said too much. He had been played. By his mother no less.

"If you're really serious about resigning your commission sweetheart, might I suggest you forego the career as a poker player. You always were an abysmal liar. Not to mention, your poker face is shite. You may have aquired many talents over the years my son, but unfortunately, you never quite mastered the art of subtlety. I knew there had to be a reason why you suggested our little impromptu get away to Lake Garda so soon after your recovery. She came to see you didn't she? You just wanted us out the way." Charles chuckled at his mother. Although she appeared prim and proper, few knew that underneath the posh exterior Margaret James was a shrewd woman who missed nothing. She also had a tendency to swear too much and speak the first thing that came to mind; consequences be damned. With Margaret what you see is what you get.

"I walked in to that one didn't I?" Margaret stood up and walked to join her son on the swing.

"Indeed you did my boy. So tell me about her." At Charles' surprised look Margaret continued. "Don't look at me like that. We haven't seen you this animated about someone in…well a long time. It's obvious that there is more going on here. She's clearly someone important to you."

"She is. If I'm honest I'm not entirely sure how it happened. We didn't get off to the best start. When I first met her on the tarmac at Brize I thought she was this cheeky, inexperienced cockney who was in way out of her depth. I was pissed at having a replacement so late in the game and I took it out on her the second she opened her mouth. I embarrassed her several times in front of the lads, I even threatened to lob her out the plane. I readily admit I thought she was a bad apple who would hold the platoon back. A regular class clown. I'm ashamed to admit I didn't think she'd be able to cut it. I should have been more supportive."

"Charles James I thought I raised you to be a gentleman!" Charles winced as his mum swiped him across the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"Well what did you expect? It's a wonder how she fell for you if you were such a tool." Charles choked and stared at his mum in awe. "Tool? Seriously? Mum where do you come up with this stuff?" Margaret shook her head with a grin. "What made you change your mind about Molly?" Charles' soft smile told her he had heard her question but the faraway, almost wistful, look in his eye showed he was a thousand miles away.

"She did. Early in the tour she came to me with concerns about Smurfs state of mind. When I questioned Smurf further, he took it the wrong way and he and the lads sent her to Coventry. If I learnt anything about Molly on that tour it's that she's a survivor. Not to mention she's fiercely loyal. When the lads froze her out she didn't say anything. She never complained about how they treated her. She refused to let them see how hurt she truly was. It never really occurred to me until then just how isolating and lonely being a medic and the sole female in the platoon could be. But in a way it was the making of Molly. She may appear to have a backbone made of steel but underneath she's a softy. She set out to prove everyone, including me wrong. When Smurf got himself shot she risked her own life to save him. She could have been popped any second by the enemy but that didn't stop her being fucking awesome as she stopped him bleeding out."

"Is that why you recommended her for the MC?" Charles nodded.

"She deserved it mum. What she did was amazing. Several times she risked her life to help others without thinking about herself. She deserves all the praise she's getting and more. The problem is, the only person who doesn't think she deserves it is Molly. She sees it as her doing her job."

"I take it your taking steps to change that?" Charles sighed wearily, suddenly looking tired.

"I'm damn well going to try. Though she doesn't make it easy Mum. Sometimes I want to shake her until she sees how beautiful and intelligent she truly is. I know it's not her fault. She had a tough upbringing; having to look out for herself and her siblings from a young age. She didn't grow up like I did mum. She never had anybody in her life she could depend on, someone to encourage her to be better, to strive for more. Molly's had years of being told she's not good enough, that she doesn't deserve more from life. I just hope that over time I'm able to help her change her opinion of herself. Sometimes I forget that she's barely twenty. She's seen and experienced far too much for someone so young. It's like she's an old soul."

"You've always said that life is down to chance. Luck. Maybe Molly had to go through all of that hardship for her to get to where she is now. Our choices and actions define us and shape the people we become. If Molly had chosen a different path you two wouldn't have met and she wouldn't have saved your life. I'll always be grateful she came into your life, no matter what happens." Margaret eyed her son with a smile as she let her words sink in. "So are you deliberately avoiding sharing how you two got together?"

Charles rolled his eyes. He'd forgotten his mother' love of gossip. She was enjoying this far too much in his opinion. But he knew if he didn't say anything, he'd never hear the end of it.

"It was kind of slow burning. It started with us just sharing banter back and forth as she treated my blisters. Gradually I found myself saying and doing things just to get her to smile or laugh. I'd initiate conversations just so I could listen to her butcher the English language with her random cockney and stories from home. Dawesisms we called them. I don't know how but she somehow managed to sneak her way past my defences and into my heart before I realised it. It wasn't until I nearly lost her that I realised how much she meant to me."

"What do you mean lost her? Was she hurt?" Margaret looked on in concern. She hadn't expected this new development. As Charles became increasingly uncomfortable, the penny slowly dropped.

"Oh Charles. You didn't tell her did you?" Charles shook his head with a sigh.

"Let's just say that wasn't my finest hour. I wanted to tell her about Rebecca and Sam but the moment never came up. We'd agreed to wait out until we got home. I had hoped to explain the whole situation properly. Before I could we got interrupted and she ended up hearing about it from someone else." Charles rubbed his face wearily as he heard his mother's soft gasp. "I know, shit timing. She was furious. She assumed I had deliberately deceived her and refused to speak to me. I hurt her mum. I swear I'll never forget the look on her face. Then we got deployed on a mission and thought we'd been ambushed. There was this deafening boom and I honestly thought it was the end. It was as if my whole world flashed before my eyes. All I could see was her face. I realised there and then that I wanted her to be the last face I saw."

Margaret stared in shock as the magnitude of her son's confession hit home. Having a son on the front line meant there was every possibility that he might not come home. To confess that he had wanted Molly to be the last thing he saw in this world and not anyone else, showed just how deep their connection truly was. This wasn't just an infatuation or hero worship. It ran so much deeper. Her son was falling head over heels.

"You love her." It wasn't a question.

"I do."

"So what's next for the two of you?"

Charles sighed. "I don't know if I'm honest. The army is all I've ever known, all I've ever wanted. Molly thinks I should wait until I've completed my rehab before making any rash decisions regarding my commission. She thinks I'm doing it out of guilt."

"Well are you?" Charles closed his eyes in thought. They both sat in silence and Margaret was beginning to think her son wouldn't answer. When his soft voice broke the silence she jumped for the second time that night.

"If I'm being entirely honest I'm tired. I've spent nearly a decade living out of a burgen. I've done four tours. Even if I am declared fit I'm not entirely sure I want to go back to active duty. Too much has changed for me. I used to be able to follow orders and trust those higher in the chain of command to see the bigger picture. Molly taught me that we need to fix the small things to help fix the bigger things. For the first time I began to question what our role in Afghan was and why we were there. I've seen Afghan in a whole new light thanks to Molly. I'm not sure I can go back on that now. I'm not the same soldier I was before this tour. I also can't be stuff behind a desk either. It'll do my nut in!"

Margaret couldn't help but laugh. It appeared Molly was influencing her son in more ways than one. She couldn't deny she was secretly pleased he was thinking of leaving the army. She wasn't sure if she would survive him doing another tour. "You do know that whatever you decide, your father and I will support you. We love you know matter what." Charles let out a sigh of relief.

"Molly said exactly the same thing."

"Smart girl, your Molly. What's next for her?" Charles couldn't help but grin as he divulged Molly's plans.

"She's busy planning a trip to Las Vegas. Something about putting Smurfs money on red on the roulette table. Who knows what trouble those two are concocting? Besides that, she's considering going back to Afghan to help train medics. I think she should go. She's only part way through a journey. She's still looking for something, a purpose in life I guess. I'll be damned if I'm going to let her sit back and waste her talents. She has the potential to go far if she puts her mind to it. She could do so much good out there, help so many people. It's like I said earlier. We need to fix the small things so the whole huge Afghanistan can work. This is Molly's chance to do that. She'll be helping them build a better Afghanistan one small cog at a time. I'll not be the one to stand in the way of that."

Margaret patted her son's hand and stood. After kissing her son goodnight she turned to enter the house. With each step the bubble of anxiety that had resided in her chest for so long slowly lifted. For the first time in nearly a decade Margaret could take a deep breath, as she exhaled her shoulders relaxed and all her anxieties and worries seemed to melt away. No matter what happened she knew her son was going to be ok. Molly would make sure of it.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Life has been crazy. Please R&R