His eyes seem to scan my face like he’s committing it to memory. “You know I’ve fallen in love with you, right?”
I suck in a breath and realise my lips are dry. I wet them with my tongue as I stare at him. It’s like I’ve suddenly lost the ability of speech.
“I may have told you I loved you before, but now I know I’m head over heels, baby. Do you feel it?” he asks, squeezing me, robbing me of breath. “Do you feel my heart beating for you? Do you feel how much it dances when you’re near me? I know I’m not the perfect man, but the one thing you can rely on is my heart. It beats for you, Andi. It only beats for you.”
I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. I’ve never been this lost for words before. Sure, he’s told me he loves me before, but that was in a capacity of a friend loving and caring for another friend. It’s different this time. This time, he’s telling me he’s in love with me.
That I have his heart.
I know he’s waiting for an answer, but I can’t seem to form words. Do I love him? Yes. Can I say it? Yes, but I’m still speechless.
Just as my mouth opens, the doorbell rings. He searches my eyes a moment, then releases me.
“You don’t have to say anything back.” He smiles. “We’ll talk about this another time. I’ll go see who it is.”
Blinking a couple times, I nod and watch as he disappears around the corner. At the moment, I can’t seem to move. My feet are stuck to the floor. Euphoria fills my head at the knowledge Devon loves me. Devon’s in love with me.
Finally, I breathe, and a smile spreads across my face. I hear shuffling and look up, seeing the person who was at the door enter looking pale and tearful. He stares at me as my smile fades, then I watch his bottom lip start to tremble.
All euphoria is gone within the blink of an eye. I start to shake my head as a sob threatens to escape. “No,” I whisper. Subconsciously, I step back. I don’t want to hear it. A few seconds ago, I was happy. A few seconds ago, I thought nothing could take this away.
“No,” I say again, my lip trembling as tears spring in my eyes.
Please God, no.
Holding his arms out, my father steps forward. From behind him, Devon appears, tears staining his cheeks.
I look back at my father. “Charlie?” I ask. Do I want to know? “Is he …?” I can’t get the word out.
“No, but …” I feel the relief. He’s still alive. My father takes my hand. “They normally tell me what happened, but the man I talked to knows Charlie. They got word that the Taliban had taken over a small town, capturing a bunch of women and children. They quickly deployed to the area. One of Charlie’s friends stepped on an IED. It exploded, killing him and injuring a couple others. One of them was Charlie.”
Filled with panic, I squeeze his hand. “Where is he? What have they said? Is he dying? What’s going on?” I can feel my tears bubbling to the surface.
My father squeezes my hand. “I don’t have all the answers. I’m waiting on them to call.” He takes his mobile out, placing it on the kitchen island. “All I know is he’s been injured. He’s serious, but stable. They’re operating on him right now at Camp Bastion in Central Helmend. I just couldn’t sit at home alone.”
I bite my lip, trying to stop myself from crying. “You did the right thing. Sit,” I say. “I’ll get you some tea.”
I start to walk around to put the kettle on, but Devon stops me. “Sit down with your dad. I’ll make the tea.” I purse my lips, a tear trickling down my face. I nod timidly, Devon pulling me into his arms and squeezing me to him. “He’s going to be okay, Andi. If Charlie’s one thing, he’s a fighter. He’ll be all right.” Nodding into his chest, the tears flow.
“He’s right, Andi,” my father says. “Charlie will be fine.” I peek over at him leaning his elbows on the kitchen island. He looks down at it for a moment. “He has to be.”
When Devon releases me, I go and sit with my dad, holding his hand as Devon makes us tea. We don’t say a lot to each other. We’re all too busy staring at the phone, urging it to ring.
When one hour turns into two, I start pacing. “This is agonising. Shouldn’t they know something by now?”
My dad looks down, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I keep hoping that no news means good news. The longer they operate and we don’t hear anything, the greater chance he’s going to survive this.”
Devon comes close, pulling me into his arms. I stay like that for a while, then hold my hand out to my dad. He takes it. It’s like we all zone out. I’m not sure how long we’re like that when his phone rings.
Immediately, my dad snaps into action, answering his phone with a quick hello. I squeeze Devon’s arm, trying to gauge my dad’s reaction to whatever he’s being told. I see the moment relief seems to flood his face, but it’s not there long. Tears stream down as he nods.
“Yes, please. Let me know as soon as you have more news. As you can imagine, we’re more than eager to have him home.”
Closing my eyes, I let the tears flow. He’s obviously made it. He’s going to be okay.
“Yes, of course. And thank you for calling me. I’m at my daughter’s boyfriend’s house. Can you take that number, too, just in case?” He nods, looking at Devon. Devon grabs a piece of paper, writing his landline number down. My father reads it off, then hangs up.
“He’s made it.” My father’s shoulders start shaking as he sobs. I move forward, wrapping my arms around him. We cry our relief, but it’s short-lived. My father pulls away and looks up at me. “He’s lost his leg, Andi. He’s lost his right leg.”
Feeling sick, I throw my hand over my mouth. I don’t say anything for a moment. I’m too shocked to process exactly what he’s just said. My brother may have survived and will be coming home, but will he ever be the same again?
I watch as my father hangs his head. “He’ll never be in the army again. It’s all he’s ever known. All he’s ever wanted to do. It’ll kill him when he finds out.”
After a few moments, I grab my father’s shoulders in determination. “He’ll be fine. He has to be. He’ll come home, he’ll be safe, and we’ll be a family again. With our support, I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
My dad smiles, nodding. “Of course. He has us.” He looks at Devon. “He has all of us.”
Then my stomach drops. “Dad?” I ask, waiting for him to look at me. “Do you know who was killed? Who stepped on the IED?”
He frowns for a moment, looking off in thought. “Hmm … The man on the phone said he could lose his job for telling me. What was his name?” My father’s brows furrow. “Yes, I remember. Charlie spoke of him frequently. His name was Ben.”
Closing my eyes, my world spins for a moment. When I open them back up, my father’s looking at me.
“Did you know him?”
My eyes fill with tears again. I nod. “Yes … Yes, I knew him. We met at the bar a couple weeks before they were deployed. We talked quite a bit that night.” I don’t look at Devon’s reaction to the news. I know he’ll be conflicted about my reaction.
Dad takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’m sorry, Andi.”
I try to smile. “You don’t have to be. I hardly knew him. It’s his family I feel badly for. He has a twin brother and a sister who’s on dialysis. I’m worried for her and how this is going to affect her treatment.”
My dad shakes his head. “I can’t even begin to imagine what life will be like for them. I lived through it myself for a few hours. I wouldn’t wish that hell on anybody.”
We stay silent for a while and I welcome it. I need a moment to process the fact that a boy I once kissed—a boy my brother had beat up because he was trying to save me from a moment like this—is now gone. And he’s never coming back.
It’s over a week later before Charlie is able to fly home to our local hospital for recovery and physiotherapy. We got to speak with him two days after the operation. He seemed okay, but I could tell by the sound of his voice that he wasn’t the same Charlie.
r /> Since hearing the news of Ben, Devon has been acting strange around me. Sure, he’s there whenever I need him, comforting me when I get upset about my brother, but there’s definitely an underlying emotion stewing just under the surface. I know he’ll get it off his chest eventually, but he knows right now isn’t the time.
“Are you okay?” I ask Charlie, holding his hand.
He smiles. “For the hundredth time, Andi, I’m fine. Stop fussing.”
Just as I smile, a group of men nosily trudge into the room. One of them shouts, “Charlie, my man. Trust you to get fucking legless in Afghanistan.”
I gasp, thinking how inappropriate a comment that is, but I turn to see Charlie laughing.
“Fuck off, Darren.”
He looks at me, acting appalled. “I hope you don’t kiss your sister with that mouth.”
“No, but I’ll kiss your mother.” They all laugh. I seriously can’t believe my ears.
Darren’s still looking at me, smiling. “You look like you’re in shock. We’re not all that bad.” He places his leg on top of Charlie’s bed and lifts his cream-colored khaki trousers, revealing a prosthetic. He taps it, looking at me. “Lost it to an IED. Same as Charlie, but I was in Kuwait when it happened.” He puts his leg down. “I’m just telling him the same joke one of my mates told me.”
I look around the room at the six men, all smiling. “Do you all have prosthetics?”
Darren points to a man who looks to be in his late forties with black hair and thick eyebrows. “Apart from me, there’s Frank here.”
Frank steps up, showing me both legs are gone. “My sergeant stepped on a mine. Unfortunately, I was nearby when it happened.”
“How long ago?” I ask, feeling enamoured by them. They all seem so sure of themselves. So confident. It gives me hope for Charlie’s recovery.
“Mine was five years ago,” Darren says.
“Mine seven,” Frank adds. “Darren and I help other soldiers who are dealing with the same things we did.”
I frown, confused. “So you don’t really know Charlie that well.”
“Sure we do,” Darren replies.
“Unfortunately,” Frank says with a grin. “We trained together in Pirbright.” He points around the room to all of the other men. “We all did.”
They start talking about when they first joined the army. In the midst of it, I somehow feel like I’m eavesdropping on a conversation I shouldn’t be privy to, so I excuse myself, asking if anyone needs a coffee. They all politely decline.
Coffee in hand, I sit outside my brother’s room and pull my phone out, seeing a text from Devon. He’s at work, allowing me time off. In the meantime, Mandy is filling in until I can come back.
Mandy’s doing my head in! I need you! How are things with Charlie? Is he ok?
I chuckle.
I’ll be back before you know it. Maybe I could show my boss just how much he needs me later. ;) Charlie’s ok. A bit too ok. He’s taking everything so well at the moment, I don’t know whether to worry or not.
Definitely on showing me how much I need you later. I look forward to it. As far as Charlie’s concerned, let him deal with it in his own way. I’m sure he’ll want to talk at some point, so don’t worry about it too much right now.
I smile.
I knew there was a reason I loved you.
Not as much as I love you.
I put my phone away and blow on my coffee before taking a sip. As I do, Charlie’s door opens, Darren sticking his head out.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself? Why aren’t you in here with us?”
I shrug. “I guess I just felt you all needed some privacy without Charlie’s little sister spoiling the party. Plus, I needed a breather.”
He doesn’t say anything as he walks out of the room and sits down next to me. “I guess you’re wondering why Charlie isn’t shouting, screaming, or crying.”
I look at him. “I guess. He just seems to be taking it so well.”
He manoeuvres himself a little to face me more. “When I got back, no one could help me. I didn’t eat, didn’t speak for a week. I was a mess. I had lost my leg, but I felt like I had lost a close relative. I went through all the stages. I wondered why me. Eventually, I asked myself why not me? What makes my life so much more special than another’s? At first, my family didn’t know how to deal with it. They worried about me. I had come back a completely different person.”
“And now?” I ask.
“I won’t lie and say it’s a bed of roses. I suffer from PTSD. Any bangers or really loud noises and I’m put straight back to that moment. I go straight back to seeing friends I trained with die in front of me. Doing this with Frank is the only thing that gets me through each day. That, and my wife and kids.”
I smile. “How many kids do you have?”
“Three,” he says, a grin on his face. He pulls out his wallet and shows me a photograph of his wife and three children. One is definitely older than the rest. He points to his wife. “That’s my wife, Susan. We’ve been married for eleven years now.” He points to the older boy. “That’s George. He’s ten. She was pregnant when we got married, but we didn’t know until our honeymoon. She thought missing her period and getting sick was due to all the wedding stress. It was only when we were in Bermuda and she was still getting sick that we came to the conclusion she might be pregnant.”
I laugh. “I bet that was a shock.”
He smiles. “It was, but a nice shock.” He points to what looks like the next eldest. “That’s Lance. He’s four and quite the troublemaker. Our youngest, Terry, is almost three. He’s great. Just sits there for hours watching all the madness around the house. He’s as good as gold.”
“All boys. No chance of trying for a girl?”
He shakes his head. “No. Three is enough for now.” He laughs. “Three is more than enough.”
I smile, then sober. “Is there any advice you can give me?”
“For Charlie?” he asks. When I nod, he takes a deep breath. “Just be there for him. Be there throughout all the shit.” He leans forward with a smile. “And, believe me, there will be shit.” His smile soon disappears. “He may be handling it well now, but it’s all a front. Deep down, he’s suffering. At some point, he’ll let it out. Just be there for him when it happens.”
I don’t know Darren at all, but I feel confident enough around him to take his hand. “Thank you.”
He gives me a cheeky smile and squeezes my hand. “It’s no sweat.” He takes out a card. “Here. This is my number. If you ever need me, don’t be afraid to give a shout.”
I take the card, noting it has Darren’s full name and the title Military Psychologist underneath it. “You’re a psychologist?”
His eyes widen. “Don’t look too shocked.”
I laugh. “I’m not. It’s just … what you said in there—”
“It troubled you. I get it. Believe me, soldiers say a lot worse to one another. It’s how we cope in bad situations. We turn shitty circumstances into comical ones. It’s just how we’re brought up.”
Thinking about it, I smile. “It’s like having a second family.”
“It is,” he agrees. “Definitely like having a second family.”
I nudge him. “Thank you for talking to me.”
He nudges me back, making me laugh. “You’re welcome. Charlie may be the victim of a terrible tragedy, but you’re his family. You suffer along with him. As I said, I’m here to help.”
“I appreciate that.”
My dad appears from down the hall. He looks anxious, just like we all have lately. However, when he spots me sitting next to Darren, smiling, his face lights up.
“Hi, Dad.” As he approaches, I get up and hug him, then turn to Darren. “Dad, this is Darren. Darren, this is my dad, Joe.”
Darren gets up, shaking my father’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Joe.”
“Likewise.”
Darren points to the door. “I’d better go and ma
ke sure they’re not getting into trouble in there.”
I smile. “Okay. Thanks, Darren. I’ll see you in a bit.”
When he disappears through the door, my dad turns to me. “One of Charlie’s army buddies?”
I nod. “Yeah. They trained together in Pirbright. Darren lost his leg in Kuwait five years ago. He’s now a psychologist.”
“Good for him. He’s seems like a nice chap.”
“He is. He left me his card if we ever needed anything.”
My dad nods, looking at the door. “How is he?”
“Same as he was yesterday and the day before. Darren told me that I need to let him deal with it. When he needs us, he’ll let us know.”
“Good advice, I suppose.” He sighs, placing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “And have you managed to get in touch with Ben’s parents about the funeral?”
I had been trying to find out when the funeral was. It took a lot of trouble to track down his parents’ number, but I eventually managed to get it from another soldier and friend of the family. He knows Charlie, so he knew why I was asking.
“I rang this morning. No one was in, so I left a message. Not something you want to do over the phone, but seeing as I don’t know where they live or when the funeral will be, I had no other choice.”
Dad places a hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t realise you knew him.”
I knew him more than Charlie or my dad will ever know. “Yeah. We spent quite a bit of time talking that night at the bar. He then came to the café the next day and had breakfast with Charlie and I. It was there we exchanged numbers and kept in touch.”
My dad frowns. “Is that the same boy Charlie punched because he found him about to kiss you?”
My eyes widen in shock. “You know about that?”
He gives me that look. The one that asks me if I think he’s stupid. “Andi, Charlie came back looking like he’d gone a couple rounds with Mike Tyson. He had to tell me something.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think he’d actually tell you the details.”