All Roads Lead to You
Margaret's ears perked up at the clatter of the letter box, followed by the sound of several letters hitting the mat. Oh joy, more junk mail. "I'll get it Grandma." Margaret listened to Sam's frantic footsteps pounding down the stairs waiting for the inevitable crash that indicated that her Grandson had once again ignored a direct order and jumped the bottom step. Standing in the kitchen doorway, Margaret watched in amusement as Sam riffled through the letters before sneaking two into the back pocket of his jeans. "Here you go Grandma," He declared cheerfully as he handed her the post before turned to head back up the stairs.
"Not so fast Scamp, what about those other letters?" Sam paused on the step and looked sheepishly at Margaret over his shoulder. "They're for me Grandma." Margaret raised an eyebrow at Sam's blasé response, as if he received letters in the post in a daily basis. What on earth was he up to? "Samuel?" Sam paused halfway up the stairs with a sigh detecting the warning in Margaret's tone. With a tilt of his head he stood and surveyed Margaret thoughtfully for a few seconds before giving a slight nod of approval. Oh look at him trying to channel his Dad. "Can you keep a secret Grandma?" That got Margaret's attention. Hands in her hips she looked up at Sam, a look of disapproval on her face. "Sam what have you done? Are you in trouble at school? You know that your mum and dad will find out eventually, there's no point hiding the evidence." Sam shook his head looking pleadingly at Margaret.
"No Grandma. It's nothing like that, honest. Come on I'll show you." reaching for Margaret's hand he pulled her up the stairs and into his room slamming the door shut behind them. Oh so it's a secret mission was it? She let Sam push her gently onto his bed and watched as he jumping up next to her, reaching under his bed to hand her a cardboard box, along with the two letters. Margaret's keen eyes raked over the envelope noticing the carefully printed letters of Sam's name as well as the Afghan post mark. Who on earth would be writing to Sam from Afghanistan? "Now would be a good time to start explaining yourself Samuel."
"Ok well you know how we've been looking at our family tree in school?" At Margaret's nod of confirmation Sam continued, "Well it was my turn this week to share mine and Miss Stiles explained that each family tree helps to tell a story of a family from beginning to end just like a normal story book. She talked about how some of us have different types of families and that no family is the same. Some of my friends have one Mum or Dad and some have two Mums and two Dads if their parents have married other people. The class know that I have a Mum, a Dad and a Molly, as well as a family here in Bath and one in London. Now that I've added them to my tree it's the longest one on the class display." Margaret grinned at the look of pride that lit up Sam's face as he started unveiling his plan.
"I had an idea to make a family tree of all the people important to Dad and Molly to help tell the story of how they got together. Nan and Belinda helped me collect some pictures of Molls from when she was younger and I managed to find some embarrassing ones of Dad. Did you know that Molls was blonde? She looks so funny. Don't tell her I said this but I think she looks much better now." Margaret couldn't help but chuckle at the photo Sam showed her at the front of the album. In it was a young Molly with long blonde hair and wearing slightly too much make up for an eleven year old. Margaret still found it hard to picture Molly as a bleach blonde. "I'm going to collect all the photos and messages together and put them all in a book as a wedding present." Sam flipped through the album and shared with her all the pictures and notes that he had gathered so far. He sure had been a busy little bee. And a secretive one at that.
"That's a lovely idea Scamp. But why the letters from Afghan? Who have you been writing to?" Margaret watched curiously as Sam ripped open the envelope and grinned as his eyes took in the small selection of photos and the note attached to them. "Well Molls and Dad always say that the lads from Two Section became a family on tour so I asked Kinders if he, the lads and Jackie could find some pictures of them together on tour that had some good stories behind them. That way we can create an Army family tree in the book to." Margaret had no doubt that Jackie had some interesting photos and stories of Molly over the years; she couldn't wait to see what she came up with. Margaret's grin widened further when she caught a glimpse of a photo of Molly wearing a pair of Minnie Mouse ears and holding a trophy high in the air. She was perched on the shoulders of a cheering Dangles and Baz Vegas and was grinning from ear to ear. The lads were all cheering around her wearing various items of fancy dress. Considering they were in the middle of a war zone they all looked relaxed and happy. Scribbled on the back in an untidy scrawl were the words "February 2014 Molls being bad ass and winning the Olympic relay."
"Dad always said that he knew he had feelings for Molls when she was about to leave to go on R and R so I thought this was a nice one to put in." Margaret smiled as she reached out to look at the other photos Sam was carefully placing in the book. "That's true sweetheart. It's why they both get so sentimental over pods of Rosabaya coffee. Your Dad asked Molls to bring him some back and wrote the word on her arm so she wouldn't forget it when she was at home. He says that's when he knew they were more than friends." Sam's eyes grew round as he took in the implications of what Margaret was saying.
"Is that why he asked Molls to marry him by writing on her arm? Like we used to do whenever he went away on tour?"
"Exactly Scamp."
"So Molly's part of our little family tradition now too?" with a chuckle Margaret nodded.
"Where do you think your Dad got the idea from?" Sam shook his head as he turned to look at the other photos the boys had gathered together, eager to hear more stories of Army life. "What's this one Grandma?" Margaret glanced at a photo of Molly and Charles hidden underneath one of Molly in a floppy hat sat in a jeep on safari. Both were grinning at each other as they sang into a mic, completely oblivious to the fact that the candid moment was being captured on camera. "Ahh look at this one. This must be the famous karaoke night. Your Dad persuaded Molly to sing a duet with him in front of the whole platoon." Sam giggled.
"I bet Molls didn't like that much, she's always saying she can't sing a note to save her life. I bet I can guess which song it was to." Margaret laughed as she stared thoughtfully at the photo.
"I bet you can. It's the only song your Dad knows all the way through. Not counting the songs from Frozen of course." Sam burst into giggles as he tried to picture all the soldiers singing along to Let It Go. Margaret looked more closely at the photo. The two of them could barely keep their eyes off each other. It was as if they had forgotten that they were on stage in front of hundreds of people, they only saw each other. How did nobody pick up on their closeness? You could spot the sexual tension a mile off.
Margaret turned to the other photos the lads had sent. This one had all the members of Two Section huddled together on what looked like the roof of a building. The low sun was beginning to set behind them casting their figures in shadow. Margaret could just make out that Molly held a small notebook in her hand and was grinning at the camera, completely unaware that Fingers was behind her giving her bunny ears. "I wonder when this one was taken? I haven't seen this one before." Sam read the post it note attached to the photo with a raised eyebrow. "Umm Grandma, I think you better read this for yourself." Looking down in confusion Margaret bit her lip when she saw what was written on the note. "Writing our bucket list on top of the Shitter. Molly's favourite hiding place. March 2014." She smiled sadly when she spotted a grinning Smurf in the group, his arm slung carelessly around the shoulders of Baz Vegas. They all looked so carefree, as they shared their hopes and dreams for their futures, neither aware of the danger that awaited them and how their lives were about to be irrevocably altered forever. Placing the photo down Margaret looked at the second envelope Sam had received.
"Who's this one from Scamp?" Sam sat up in excitement as his finger traced the unfamiliar post mark. "Molly's teacher friend Qaseem. I found his email in Molly's address book and Grandpa helped me write an email. Molly always talks about all the things he taught her about Afghan culture and the language. She says he's looking after her friend Bashira so I thought Molly would like to hear from them. I think Bashira wrote a note for Molly at the bottom of Qaseem's letter, he said in his email that he was helping her with her English, just like he helped Molls to learn Pashto. Look he's even put in some poetry too what does it say Grandma? Can you read it?" Margaret laughed as she reached for her reading glasses. Good old Qaseem. He never was one to pass up an opportunity to expand Molly's literary horizons. It was thanks to him that Molly had taken an interest in literature at all. He was forever emailing her with book recommendations and pieces of poetry to give her something to think about. "This one is called I carry your heart with me. It's by a poet called E.E. Cummings:
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
y by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet) i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
( here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)"
Sam looked at the poem sceptically. "It's a good job Miss Stiles hasn't seen it. This Mr Cummings hasn't used capital letters or finger spaces. It's hard to read. But I like it. It's a bit like the charm we brought Molly to help remind her that we'll always love her no matter where she is in the world." Margaret chuckled. Trust Sam to start correcting the grammar of one of the world's most well-known poems. "It is a bit like that Sam. I think they're going to love the fact that you've spent so much time and effort putting this together. You should be proud of yourself. What other pictures do you have?" Sam emptied out the box at his feet, talking Molly through the pictures he had yet to put into the album.
"I have a picture of Dad teaching Molly to drive, just before she crashed through that guard gate, plus a few pictures from our first holiday to Florida. I chose the selfie of me and Molly on the aeroplane wearing all the free stuff. I was going to put in the one of us with Mickey Mouse but I chose the one of us on the beach when Dad let us bury him in the sand up to his neck instead. He's wearing Molly's floppy hat because we went to get ice-cream and accidently left him there so he got really bad sunburn and looked like a lobster with white eyes from his sunglasses. I thought he'd never forgive us, it was a good job it was near the end of the holiday, he was getting annoyed by all the funny looks he was getting. He definitely needed a medic then. What else do you think we should put in?" Margaret stared thoughtfully at the album trying to identify any gaps in their story.
"Well we should include the proposal and the engagement party, there's a lovely group shot of everyone together after the lads had raided your dressed up box."
"Is that before or after they broke your garden table Grandma?" Sam asked cheekily, giggling as Margaret reached over and tickled his ribs, causing him to almost drop the book on his lap. "Yes it is, cheeky monkey. If you're lucky, I think I might even have a picture of your Dad in his wardrobe when he thought he could get into Narnia."
"Silly Dad. Narnia isn't real. Ohhh do you have the mugshot one from the stag do? I can't believe the lads let him think he got arrested. Molls still teases him about it." Margaret snorted as she recalled the day she had to collect Charles from the red caps after his stag do. The lads had handcuffed him naked to a flag pole before convincing him he had been arrested after he awoke hungover in a police cell. Molly and Margaret had taken immense pleasure in taking the piss out of Charles at any given opportunity. Margaret was sure that the lads were still suffering for their prank. She knew better than anyone how good he was at holding a grudge; He'd learnt from the best after all.
"Oh we definitely need to put that one in. You should leave a few pages for some photos of Molly's hen do this weekend. That should bring everything full circle ready for the next chapter of their story. Good job Scamp." Sam high fived Margaret before pulling her into a bear hug. The slam of the front door interrupted them, causing them to break apart. Oh shit Molls was back. Looking at each other in panic they both scramble to put everything back in its place before they were caught.
"Margaret, Sammy, are you here?" Hearing Molly's voice yell up the stairs they darted onto the landing and peaked their heads over the banister trying to look innocent. Molly eyed them suspiciously as they fought to keep their faces straight. Oh she's definitely going to guess we're up to something. "Alright Molls? Are you all ready to go?"
"Yeah, is everything ok?" sending Sam a wink Margaret smiled down at Molly.
"It's fine. We were just checking Sam had everything packed ready to head home. Give us two minutes then we'll be ready to go. I checked the train times and your mums train is running on time."
"Ok, take your time." Margaret squeezed Sam's hand as she helped him carry their bags downstairs. She hoped Molly enjoyed what they had planned this weekend. Margaret knew she'd been under an enormous amount of stress as she juggled planning a wedding, along with studying for a promotion at work. She deserved a weekend where she could let her hair down and relax with no drama. On second thoughts, with Nan around there was no telling what trouble they'd all get into. So long as nobody gets arrested or they didn't lose Molly in the woods, Margaret was sure the hen party would run smoothly. What could possibly go wrong?
A/N: So sorry for the wait, real life has been crazy. I originally started writing the hen do but I've hit a bit of a wall with it. The idea behind this chapter kind came to me this morning and pretty much wrote itself. I'm still working on the other chapter, I have all the elements but can't seem to fit them together the way I want.
I dont own the poem. All rights belong to the author.
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