Breathe (2 AM)
Walking into the kitchen carrying a basket of freshly pruned roses, Margaret James paused when the doorbell rang. Who on earth could that be? Molly was away on tour Sam and Charles were at a rugby match and Richard was in the garden. Oh goodness! It better not be Carol with another idea for the Wednesday night book club. If she had to sit through another debate about whether or not 50 Shades of Grey was suitable literature she might just use it to clobber her round her annoyingly smug cake hole. Oh dear, there's Molly's influence surfacing again. Better reign that in before the next meeting. With a sigh Margaret placed the basket on the work top and dashed down the hallway to answer the door.
She let out a quiet curse as her gloved hands fumble with the latch. Oh honestly how many times have you done this? It's quite simple. All you need to do is kick, twist and pull. Ahh there we go. Finally managing to open the front door a slightly flustered Margaret was met with the grinning face of Molly Dawes, clad in her uniform. "Missed me?" she asked cheekily as Margaret eyed her appearance with concern. Recovering quickly, Margaret returned Molly's smile with one of her own.
"Indeed we have sweetheart. It's been far too quiet around here. Although, I think there is someone who missed you a whole lot more that we have." Margaret joked. Careful now Margaret. Act normal. Don't give anything away.
"Oh yeah? Who's that then?" Molly joked as Margaret pulled her into a tight hug, missing the wince Molly made as she squeezed too tight.
"Welcome home sweetheart. Have you come straight from Barracks? We weren't expecting you home for another week. Do your parents know your back? What about Charles? He's gone to the rugby. We'd have picked you up had we known you were coming."
"Yeah they do. I flew in a few days early so managed to get a weekend pass and went up to London before I went back to barracks. Sorry about knockin' I left me key behind. Think I'm a bit jetlagged. That or fragged. I'm all over the shop. Anyway, there were a few issues I had to sort out with me reports so I've been at barracks since yesterday. I thought I'd be able to finish me reports at home but the little bleeders had other ideas. Much as I love them, they were starting to do me nut in. Once there done then my leave can officially start. Thank fuck!" Margaret shook her head in mock disapproval as she led Molly into the kitchen.
"You missed them really."
Molly let out a snort. "Could you tell?" Margaret sent her a playful swipe with the tea towel.
"Cheeky! Richard's finishing some gardening. Those roses you planted came out lovely by the way. The weather's been rather pleasant recently so were out in the garden. Why doing you join him, off you go. Double away and I'll bring out some tea." Molly raised her arms in surrender and walked out the back door and settled herself in her favourite spot on the porch swing. Margaret sent a quick text to Charles as she busied herself preparing the tea. She placed a plate of rice crispy cakes she'd made with Sam the day before on the tray and followed Molly out onto the patio. She couldn't help but smile at how comfortable Molly looked as she settled herself on the porch swing. It had taken Molly time to get accustomed to life in Bath. In the beginning, she had been terribly self-conscious about what others would think of her and it took her a long time to feel relaxed enough to be herself. But if there was one thing Molly was good at it, it was winning people round with her sparkling wit and magnetism. Her relationships with both Sam and Rebecca were clearly testament to that.
It had taken Molly a long time to open up fully about her difficult childhood and her complicated relationship with her father. She had talked briefly about the tumultuous period after she had first joined up and how her decisions had nearly torn the family apart. Margaret knew that things had been steadily improving between father and daughter since her return from Afghan. Maybe the time apart had forced Dave to rethink his priorities a bit. He certainly seemed to be putting in more of an effort these days when Molly went back to visit. Although Molly knew now that Dave and Belinda were proud of her achievements, it still hurt her that they didn't understand that her experiences in Afghan had changed her. She wasn't a little girl any more. They couldn't even begin to understand some of the things she had seen and done which often resulted in Molly bottling everything up so she could deal with it alone. More often than not, Molly would retreat to Bath when things in London became too much, if she'd had a difficult time on exercise or after a tour.
Bath had provided Molly with the peace and space she often needed to get her head together and unwind. It also helped, that Charles was on hand to talk her down when things became difficult. Sure they fought like most couples do, usually about Molly's lack of faith in her abilities, but Charles had a knack for always knowing exactly what to say and do to help Molly regain her inner calm and keep her focused and grounded. Molly would often joke that talking to the James was saving her a fortune in therapy bills. Watching her now as she relaxed into the swing, Margaret had a feeling that Africa hadn't been easy on any of them and she'd need Charles to help her make sense of what went on out there. Molly had removed her boots and jacket and was sat in her combats and top with her feet tucked underneath her, staring pensively into the distance. Margaret was just about to ask Molly about the tour when Richard came strolling across the garden. Noticing a third cup in the tray he looking questioningly at his wife. "Look who's back Richard." Her husband's brow creased in confusion until Margaret jerked her head in the direction of the swing. Turning around Richard's face split into a grin when he saw Molly.
"Well well aren't you a sight for sore eyes Dawesy." Molly rolled her eyes good naturedly at the nickname as Richard lent down to ruffle her hair in greeting. Richard had overheard the lads calling her Dawesy during one of their first visits to Bath. Sometime later, after she had retreated to the garden to cool off after a disagreement with Charles, Richard had sought her out to check on her and tried to cheer her up. Since then the nickname had stuck, purely because Richard could see how much it wound Molly up. Today though, there was nothing but concern in his gaze as he regarded Molly. "Good grief young lady! Did you lose a fight with the guard gate again or was Africa as bad as it looks?" Richard asked as he took in Molly's appearance for the first time. Margaret closed her eyes in exasperation as her husband put his foot right in it. Did the man not know the meaning of the word subtlety? Molly let out a bark of laughter. "Does everyone know about that? It was one time! I normally know where the break and the accelerator are I swear!"
Chuckling softly Margaret reached out and hooked a finger under Molly's chin and gently raised her head so she could better study the solider in front of her. Margaret's keen eyes took a post-tour inventory of Molly's injuries, taking note of the dark circles under her eyes, the half healed gash on her forehead and lip as well as the array of blue and yellowed bruises that marred her tanned arms where she had rolled the sleeves of her top up. Had she lost weight? She definitely looked thinner since she had seen her last. "Are you alright? I thought the boys were supposed to bring you back in one piece not bring you home looking like you've gone three rounds with Mike Tyson." Noticing the worried glance Margaret shot Richard, Molly tried to put them both at ease.
"You wouldn't Adam and Eve how they looked last week. Mansfield could play dot to dot on me arms and legs. He managed to draw a smiley face, a pair of boobs and the plough constellation. He was well chuffed. Thank God he never found the sharpie. Could you imagine what those bunch of piss taking tossers would say then? It was bad enough when they found Charles' little message." Margaret looked confused for a second.
"Hold on, what message?" Molly blushed and suddenly became embarrassed. "He wrote I love you on my arm the night before I flew out to Africa. It's sort of our thing. He told me to look at it when things got tough and to remember how much he loves me and how proud he was that I was off being brilliant. Soppy sod!" Richard laughed at Molly's seemingly never-ending ability to take the piss out of his son. It was one of the things he had loved about Molly when they had first met over two years ago. Margaret however, noticed that Molly was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken and was trying to tactfully steer the conversation away from talk of the tour. She clearly wasn't ready to talk details. Her East End accent, usually more pronounced when she was either stressed, anxious, excited or angry, was considerably more noticeably since she had spent time back in London.
"Was it all bad?" Margaret asked tentatively.
Molly paused as she contemplated her answer, her fingers picking at the rice crispies in her lap. "No, at least not all of it. I thought Afghan was nice but Africa was full of gorgeous landscapes, breath-taking sunsets and amazing animals I've only ever seen in books or films and trees. Lots and lots of trees." Margaret raised her eyebrow in surprise at the way Molly pronounced the word trees. She'd never heard someone talk about nature with such distain. Before she could comment, Molly carried on. "I hate trees. They give me the willies." At that, both Margaret and Richard burst out laughing. "Sweetheart, you spend the majority of your time in Bath which is surrounded by trees. How can you not like them?"
"I dunno, I guess it's the creepy way the branches sway and look like they're movin'. Bit like those drunk geezers you find staggering down the Barking Road leering at ya late on a Friday night. They freak me out." Margaret shook her head. Oh Molly kept everyone on their toes alright. You were never quite sure what gem she would come out with next. Sensing the change in mood, Richard reached over and handed Molly another cake. "God I bloody missed me coco pops. Thanks for the care packages by the way, they were a God send." Richard smiled in understanding as he lent forward expectantly, a twinkle in his eye.
"So go on then, how long did it take them?" Molly snickered around a mouthful of coco pops.
"Fifteen minutes to blow it up. 10 Minutes to fill it up, five before they were all stark bollocks naked in it. Even the newbies were impressed." Margaret laughed as her mind conjured up the image of Two Section messing around in a paddling pool made for human's half their size. She was glad Molly had had some familiar faces watching her back on this deployment. She knew that Molly had serious concerns about her section's moral before they left. It was nice to know they were still able to make each other laugh and find humour in the darkest of times. Before Margaret could reply she was interrupted by an amused voice from behind them.
"Don't tell me those Cockwombles ruined another paddling pool of mine. The last time they decided to have a little impromptu pool party they split the bloody thing. I was waiting weeks for that and I only managed 10 minutes." Might gunna need to start charging them for the privilege ay Dawesy?" Before Charles had finished his sentence, he found himself with an armful of Molly Dawes. He chuckled as he hugged her back just as fiercely, before pulling her to him for a deep kiss. Margaret swore she heard him mutter a quiet "missed you" into Molly's hair, followed by a soft 'Ditto' in reply which caused Charles to grin widely. Gently pulling back Charles cupped Molly's face in his hands, her eyes fluttering shut as his thumbs gently ran over her cheek bones as he inspected her injuries. His eyes bored into hers silently asking a thousand questions in just one look. "I thought you said you were in one piece Dawes. You've got bags under your eyes the size of shopping trollies, you've lost weight and don't think I didn't feel you stiffen when I hugged you. You looked a damn sight better after you got blown up by a mine. What the hell happened out there. Are you hurt?" Charles's voice had taken on the stern authoritative tone he used to adopt when Molly was in for a right bollocking. Margaret knew that despite his tough talk, deep down, Charles was feeling guilty that he hadn't been there to protect Molly and keep her safe from harm.
"Bossman I'm fine really. It's a few bumps and bruises that's all. Nothing a nice soak and a massage won't fix." Molly replied. Charles started searchingly into Molly's eyes, clearly not believing Molly for a second. Realising it was time to make a tactful retreat Margaret stood up and sent Charles a meaningful look. "Right kids, I'm doing to make a start on dinner. Any preferences Molly?" Molly shook her head.
"I don't mind what we eat, anything beats rations." Molly joked weakly giving a light shiver at the sudden drop in temperature. The sun was slowly dipping between the trees indicating that summer was coming to an end.
Margaret nodded and picking up the throw that was placed on the back of the swing, gently draping it around Molly's shoulders. Placing a reassuring hand on Molly's shoulder she made her way inside. As she past Richard she caught his eye and gave a subtle nod towards the house. Taking the hint, Richard picked up the tray and followed his wife across the garden giving Molly and Charles the privacy they needed to have what was bound to be a difficult conversation.
Margaret awoke with a start. Staring at the ceiling she listened to the silence as she tried to work out what it was that had disrupted her sleep so unexpectedly. Hearing a creak outside, Margaret's ears perked up as she listened for any further sounds. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something just didn't feel right. Glancing at the clock blearily she groaned when she saw the digits flash 2.00am. Again? Margaret flicked on the lamp and reached for her dressing gown. Sliding her feet into her slippers she made her way onto the darkened landing. Edging her way slowly down the stairs and along the hallway Margaret paused outside the door to the sitting room.
Pushing the door open as quietly as possible, Margaret lent against the doorframe and watched Molly silently. Dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and wearing her West Ham shirt, Molly was sat on the floor with her legs pulled up to her chest and her chin resting on her folded arms. The warm fire bathed her features in a soft glow as Molly sat deep in thought, completely oblivious to Margaret's presence. Without a word, Margaret sat next to Molly and reached for the poker and gently stoked the flames, the quiet hissing and crackle of the logs the only sound in the otherwise silent room.
Margaret glanced sideways at Molly and asked quietly, "Can't sleep?" Molly shook her head. Since her arrival in Bath over a week ago, this was the third time that Margaret had caught Molly up in the middle of the night unable to sleep. After a few minutes of silence Margaret had almost given up on Molly answering when she spoke. "I can't get Africa out of me nut. I hear it every time I shut my eyes and I relive it over and over in my sleep." Margaret placed a calming hand on Molly's arm as she paused to organise her thoughts.
"You know from my letters that the weather got pretty bad the last few weeks. I've never seen rain like it. I thought it would never end. We were in this field hospital half way up a mountain that was only accessible by a narrow winding road that was more like a track than a road. The storms had blocked the road and taken out the power lines so the radios were useless, and the electricity had been cut off. The supply trucks couldn't get to us and our supplies were running dangerously low so we were assigned to try and clear the road. It was there where we met a small group of civilians who had been caught in the crossfire during a fight with some rebel soldiers in the area. It had taken them a couple of days to reach the hospital due to the weather. They were in pretty bad shape when they managed to get to us. At that point we had hardly any supplies and the high tech equipment we relied upon was useless without electricity." Molly took a deep breath as she paused. Margaret could see the distress in her eyes.
"One patient was screaming so loud due to the pain. We didn't have any anaesthetic and morphine was low. He was moving so much we couldn't stabilise him to treat his injuries. Do you know what we did? We used duct tape to secure him to the table so we could remove the bullets and treat the infection. Duct tape Margaret! I taped a patient to the table in the dark to treat him."
"Did he make it?" Margaret asked softly, slightly afraid of the answer but knowing Molly needed to say it aloud. Her heart sank when Molly shook her head.
"We didn't treat the infection in time. You know I thought I'd seen some horrifying things in Afghan. That marine's injuries on my first day were pretty horrific but watching him screaming and knowing there wasn't anything else we could do was unbearable. We tried to make him as comfortable as we could but you never forget watching the light go out of someone's eyes." Molly pushed her fingers roughly through her hair with a sigh as she returned her gaze to the flames. "I'm tired Margaret. I want to sleep but I'm afraid to. I don't want to see it anymore." Margaret reached over and pulled Molly into a hug as she ran a hand gently through her hair.
"I know sweetheart. It'll be ok just close your eyes." Margaret continued to stroke Molly's hair as she felt her breathing even out. Hearing the door creak open Margaret looked up to see Charles stood in the doorway. "She had another nightmare didn't she?" Margaret nodded smiling softly at the look of concern and love on Charles' face as he stared down at Molly. "Yeah she did. She said it was about what happened to one of her patients out in Africa." Charles nodded in understanding. "Yeah I know. We talked about it when we got back. It sounded like things got pretty rough out there. It's no wonder she was black and blue having to move around a hospital in the dark after climbing a mountain in a storm."
"Is that how she got her injuries?" Margaret asked.
"Well kink of. The area was flooded when they tried to see if they could get the roads unblocked to get the supply trucks through. She mentioned something about getting stuck under fallen trees with the lads. She likened it to attempting to play twister in a swimming pool."
"Well that's going to do wonders for her love of trees isn't it?"
"Don't I know it. Hay Mum. Thanks."
"For what love?"
"For being there for Molly. For letting her talk about what happened. For listening. She doesn't let many people in you know. Prefers to do it on her own. I'm just glad she feels comfortable enough to open up to you is all. Thanks for making her feel like that. It means a lot to me. To Molly." Margaret smiled and kissed Charles' cheek. "You're welcome love. Now you better get this one off to bed. You both need the sleep. You've a busy few weeks ahead of you." Charles smirked knowingly.
"What and carry sleeping beauty up three flights of stairs. No chance. She's like a sack of potatoes when she's a sleep. Think I'll leave her here. If I wake her now I'll never here the end of it. Plus she snores." Margaret giggled as she watched Charles lovingly place a throw over Molly and add another log to the fire. Oh her son was in trouble tomorrow. "I'm going to tell her you said that." Charles looked offended as he pushed his mother out of the door, closing it quietly behind him. "Yeah but if you do that then she'll kill me. If she kills me then she won't become your daughter in law. We both know you wouldn't jeopardise that. Sometimes I think you like her more than me."
"well I won't argue with you there." Margaret replied cheekily, throwing Charles a wink for good measure as he walked her up the stairs.
A/N: Have no fear the proposal is coming. I've had this chapter written on my laptop for a while and felt it would fit in nicely to help fill in some of the gaps in the events leading up to A Request. Sorry for the dely i've been on R&R this weekend. Hope you enjoy please R&R.
title based on the Song Breathe by Anna Nalick