Page 3 of Conflict

Scarlett takes up residence on my knee, as she often does when we hang out together, she rests her head on my shoulder as she speaks. “Crisps… I’ve eaten some crisps. Mum keeps feeding me them every time she passes me. I just want to get out of here now for a bit,” She shifts a little where she is. I don’t need to look at her to know she’s watching me, “Will you come with me for a walk? Just down by the river for a while. He liked it there and I think I’d kinda like the peace. Mum won’t mind if you’re with me,” a quick glance down at the two large sorrowful eyes staring back at me and I can’t refuse. Not that I ever would refuse her anything, she’s always had Tom and me wrapped around her finger.

My hand voluntarily rubs small circles across her back in a soothing motion. “Sure, let me just change out of this first,” I motion at my dress uniform, it’ll be a relief to get out of it to be honest, I just didn’t want to be disrespectful and get changed too early. “Be right back.” Scarlett stands wearily, allowing me to move before she sits and snuggles into Rachel’s side for comfort. My heart breaks a little more as I see the pain behind her eyes, the anger I feel swells again as I watch Tom’s sister try to hold ittogether. His family shouldn’t have to deal with all this shit. He was too young.

After slipping into my well-worn jeans and a clean T-shirt, I head back out to the garden in search of Scarlett, bumping into Jack in the kitchen on my way. “Hey, I’m going to get Scarlett out of here for a while, is that okay? Just down to the river,” my brow furrows in question. “I won’t keep her away too long.”

The old man nods as he smiles up at me. His eyes don’t light up now when he smiles; instead, they remain glassy as he tries to be strong for his family. “Try get her to eat something will you?” Jack pats my arm; the pain is evident in his eyes. “I’ve already lost one child.”

Pain stabs at my chest, “Yeah, I’ll see what I can do but she’s stubborn, you know I can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do.” My smile is gentle but meant to reassure the old man. The man before me is broken, I can see that quite clearly. The man I looked up to my whole life is crumbling, and I feel helpless to do anything.

Jack pats my cheek tenderly. “If anyone can get through to her, it’s you, son. She adores you just as much as she does…did Tom.” Tears brim at his eyes as he raises his immaculately pressed handkerchief to pat away the unshed tears before they have time to escape. I have no answer for that, so I dip my head in acknowledgement before leaving to find Scarlett.

When I find her, she’s swaying gently on the old garden swing that we spent hours playing on as kids, and she too has changed out of her more formal dress and into denim shorts that she’s paired with an off-the-shoulder top. Her long auburn hair has been unclipped and hangs loosely around her shoulders in soft waves. She looks so small and fragile on that swing. The urge to protect her is immense and overwhelms me in that moment. Scarlett must sense that I’m behind her because her head whips around to check me out. The air rushes from my lungs as I seeher wipe the tears from her cheeks for the millionth time today. I’m not sure she’ll ever stop crying, but she manages a slight smile as she hops off the swing and makes her way towards me. “Let’s get outta here,” I say quietly as her arm snakes around my waist, and she tucks her head into my chest as she falls in step beside me. “If you’re lucky, I’ll treat you to an ice-cream with all that shit you like on top.”

She sighs deeply, I hear the breath catch in her throat. “I could hardly refer to anything about my life as lucky at the minute, Spooky, but I’ll take the ice-cream if only to stop you all from worrying I’m about to starve myself to death.” Inwardly I cringe at my choice of words. I really need to keep myself in check, but at least she’s agreed to eat for me.

Swiftly I try to lighten the mood. “I don’t remember giving you permission to use that nickname, missy.” I’m teasing her, and she knows it. The nickname comes from my army friends, it’s kind of a tradition. Nobody is known by their actual name, everyone is given a moniker, well everyone that makes it through basic training, that is. It’s almost like your first badge of honour. My last name is Kasper, thanks to my father’s German descent somewhere along the line. I think I’m lucky the guys didn’t settle on calling me Ghost - as in Caspar the friendly Ghost - believe me, they tried it out, although that is probably way cooler than Spooky, but army nicknames are anything but cool. This ain’t Top Gun, and I’m no Maverick, although I do own a pair of those sunglasses.

She nudges my shoulder playfully. “You love it. Who picked Tom’s?” Scarlett enquires looking up at me. She’s so desperate to keep the connection with him; we’ve talked about this so many times in the past that she knows this story inside out but I get the feeling that she just wants to hear about her brother.

So, I indulge her once more. “It was a joint regiment effort. Couldn’t really have picked anything better though, could they?”It had been a constant source of amusement in the barracks, with a surname like Wood, you really only could pick ‘Morning’ as a suitable call sign for a new army recruit. But it hadn’t taken long for that to become ‘Boner’ instead.

Her arm tightens even more around my waist. “I remember him blushing when I made him explain why they’d picked that nickname, of course I knew, I just wanted him to say it out loud.” Scarlett smiles through her memories and it goes some way to easing my pain. “He was so embarrassed as he tried to explain without using the words hard-on, dick or erection. I swear he thought I was still a virgin at nineteen.”

I pretend to be shocked and gasp as I cover my mouth in mock horror, “Wait. You mean you weren’t!”

I swear she almost chuckles but second guesses herself and stops it before it escapes her lips.

“I miss him and it hurts.” She states simply.

And now I can no longer speak. Instead, I just take her hand from where it clings around my waist and grasp her hand in mine instead. As I squeeze it tightly, I only hope it offers her a little comfort.

CHAPTER 4

JAMIE

It’s been six weeks since we said our goodbyes to Tom. The pain and hollowness where my heart used to be is ever present. I lost five other members of my team that day. Five people who were like family to me, gone forever. Wives, parents and children have been left alone, devastated by their loss of a loved one. There isn’t a day goes by when I’m not wracked with guilt because my death would have been much less significant, there wouldn’t be a gaping hole left in a girlfriends’ life, I don’t have any kids that would have been left without a father, unlike four of my mates. I should’ve been in that truck with Tom, I should have died too.

I’m pulled from the dark mist that seems to surround me most of the time now, by a knock to the front door. My heart sinks. I’m not in the mood for visitors or small talk right now. “Mum, door!” I shout towards the kitchen, where I know my mother is currently baking. It’s her way of caring for me at the minute, I’ve tried to not feel smothered by her attentiveness but it gets harder every day. It’s only now that I realise getting my own place would have been the sensible thing to do. There hadn’t ever seemed like much point as I’m away on tour more than I’m home, to be honest, but right now, I understand theerror of my decision. A place just for me seems like what I need right now. The knocking on the front door starts again, and I let out a sigh as I push myself up from the sofa that’s become my cocoon; my haven, these last few days. As I make my way through the doorway, I shout again, hopeful that my mother will appear and answer the door. That way I don’t have to smile or put on an act, but no such luck. She’s nowhere in sight.

Whoever is at the door becomes even more impatient, and the knocking becomes a banging instead. “Alright, alright!” I grumble while I turn the key in the lock and open the front door. Scarlett stands on the doorstep, her eyes narrow when she takes in my unkempt appearance. I haven’t shaved since the funeral; it hasn’t seemed necessary.

Scarlett’s gaze sweeps from my face all the way down to my bare feet and back up again before she lets out a frustrated sigh. “Your mum said it was bad but I think she underestimated the state of you.” Scarlett steps past me into the hallway. “When did you shower last? I’m guessing it wasn’t yesterday or the day before from the smell you’re omitting right now.”

I push the front door closed and turn the key in the lock again. “Nice to see you too, Scarlett.” With my fingertips tucked in the waistband of the track pants I’ve been wearing for a few days now, I follow Tom’s sister down the hallway into the kitchen, where I suspect my mother is hiding. I’m wrong, the traitor is nowhere in sight, only Scarlett, who is scanning the contents of the fridge. “Have you eaten today? I could cook you lunch,” her attention returns to me suddenly. “Scrap that, you can take me out for lunch. Once you’ve had a shower and shaved that ridiculous excuse for a beard off.” She pulls a carton of juice from my parent’s fridge and pours herself a glass before she sits at the small kitchen table. “Are you still here? Go! Shower now, I’m hungry for the first time since…” She doesn’t need to finishthat sentence. I can see the pain she tries to hide in her eyes. I’ve always been able to read her like a book.

“If you’re hungry, I’ll make you a sandwich, pretty sure Mum has some chicken tucked away in here.” I begin to rummage around the fridge, locating everything I need to make a snack for Scarlett. My need to take care of her surfacing above the grief. “I don’t want anything so no point going out for lunch, I’ll just make you something.” I’m not ready to venture anywhere at the moment. To be honest, I haven’t left the home I grew up in for almost three weeks, I can’t stand the sympathetic looks everyone seems to give me because they still don’t know what to say. Outside feels far too open right now, all my senses feel heightened away from these four walls and I’m in no rush to subject myself to that yet. My Commanding Officer contacted me last week with the details I needed to make an appointment with the army counsellor. I scribbled all the information down then pinned it onto the noticeboard in the kitchen. I haven’t looked at it since.

Scarlett places a warm hand on my arm, too engrossed in the fridge contents, I hadn’t heard her move across the kitchen. “No, I don’t want you to make me a sandwich. If you’re not hungry we’ll just go for a walk down by the river instead. Go get cleaned up. You can’t hide in here forever, Jay.” Her face is turned upwards as she studies my features. “If I can do it, you can.”

She’s turning my grief into a fucking competition? I swallow hard as I force the anger inside me into submission, slowly my eyes blink closed before I turn to smile at Scarlett, albeit somewhat sarcastically. “Mum phoned you, didn’t she? I told her not to. I’m fine Scar, I don’t need anyone managing my life right now. I need a little time and space. That’s all. Why don’t you call Rachel? I bet she’s not doing anything; I’m sure she’d like a walk by the river or lunch at the pub.” I give Scarlett another briefforced grin before I push the fridge door closed and make my way out of the kitchen and back down the hall.

I hear her small footsteps follow behind me as she sighs deeply. I take my place on the sofa again, TV remote in my hand, as I begin to scan the channels for something mind-numbing to watch. I’m well aware of Scarlett’s presence in the doorway but I refuse to give her the eye contact she demands. “That’s not the point. Rachel isn’t hiding away from the real world, you are. Your mum’s worried about you. I’m worried about you. This isn’t you; the Jamie I know wouldn’t sit around for weeks on end, unshaven and in the same clothes. You look like death…” She gasps at the choice of her own words as my head swivels on my neck to glower at her.

My chest heaves as my heart rattles against my ribcage. I can feel the blood rush around my body as my fists clench at my sides. “I think you should leave now, Scarlett.” It’s all I can manage to say right now, if another word passes my lips, I know she’ll never speak to me again.

“I-I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” Scarlett wrings her hands, it’s her go-to nervous reaction whenever she feels overwhelmed, she’s unable to keep her hands still.

“Just go, Scarlett.” My concentration returns to the TV guide as I scan the channels again, desperate to keep my mind off the girl standing in the doorway. I settle on some fishing program; the guy has just hauled a massive tuna fish onto the deck of the boat, and they appear to be extremely excited about the size of it. It is huge, to be fair.

---