Page 36 of One More Time

Two.

One.

He looks to Sergeant Joseph Baker, lying in the trench beside him, and gives the nod for go time.

An explosion detonates only metres away. The air is sucked from his lungs. His ears are ringing, eyes are stinging, and Joey is dragging him out of harm’s way …

And through the gunfire, he hears Hope’s sweet voice, calling for him.

No, no, no, no.

His baby girl appears amid the haze, carrying a plate piled high with pancakes. No! She can’t be here. Where’s Grace? He tries to call to her, but she can’t hear him over the barrage of bullets. He tries to run, tries to reach her when suddenly pinging sounds overlap with booming echoes only metres from him. Then, to his horror, Hope is gone.

Oh my god, no!

Charlie woke in a pool of sweat, crying out something he couldn’t quite fathom, with his heart trying to punch its way out of his chest.

‘Charlie, are you okay?’ Grace sat up beside him, bringing her hand to his back. ‘Another bad dream?’

‘Yes.’ Desperate for a drink, he climbed from the bed and, despite the summer night, tugged his robe on. ‘I’ll be okay. You go back to sleep.’

Grace flicked her bedside lamp on. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Just to grab a glass of water.’ Charlie tried to offer her a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’

‘Would you like me to come downstairs with you?’ She went to climb from beneath the sheet. ‘I can make us a nice cup of tea and sit with you, if it would help.’

‘Thank you, no,’ he said gruffly, immediately regretting his tone when he saw Grace’s pained expression. He moved to her side of the bed. ‘I’m sorry. I just need a few moments to gather myself.’ He leant in and kissed her cheek.

‘Okay, but only if you’re sure.’ She reluctantly sunk back against the pillow.

‘I’m positively positive.’ He managed to summon a smile.

‘Okay. I love you, Charlie.’

‘Love you too, Grace,’ he said softly.

Tiptoeing past Hope’s bedroom and over to the staircase, he felt his way along the banister until he’d counted twenty-two steps. Now downstairs, he flicked the light on and stood, trying to decide which way he was going to go – left, to the kitchen, or right, to the outside shed. God help him but he wanted more than water or tea or coffee. He needed something strong and punchy, something to ease the anguish, to rid the claws dug deep into the flesh of his heart. He hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in almost a year, but right now, after his worst nightmare in twelve months, it was all he could think about. Maybe just a nip? That would do the trick. He could make it classy and have a whisky on the rocks. Sit and sip it on the verandah, like a normal person would. Surely he had his impulses under control now?

He went to take a step to the right then, as if his feet were boulders, stopped. What was he thinking? Hadn’t he learnt his lesson, too many times before?

Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic.

Anger, guilt and frustration coiled deep inside him. He turned around and headed left. Storming into the kitchen, he looked to the tap and pounded his fist against the kitchen counter. Water wasn’t going to cut it. Damn his PTSD. Damn this incessant call to go return to soldiering. Damn it all. Why was he still here, breathing and living, when Joey was just a name among the thirteen hundred American soldiers still missing in action in Vietnam? It was almost as if Joey was calling him, begging him to come and save him. He knew his military life was over, and he needed to focus on his present purpose in life – Grace and Hope, the sweetest of souls. But why was that so hard?

Exasperated, he flicked the kettle on and grabbed a mug from the overhead cupboard. Coffee was going to have to suffice. Grace deserved a husband who was strong, resilient, loyal. He owed her so much for sticking by him all these years.

Coffee in hand, he padded outside and slumped down on the settee. The moon was full, glowing silvery light over the rolling land – his family land, Grace’s home, and Hope’s future. He was a blessed man. Sitting back, and now past the worst of it, he mentally gave himself a pat on the back for fighting off the urge for a drink – baby steps, but forward steps. There’d be no going backward for him ever again. He knew it would mean the loss of Grace and Hope, and everything he loved so dearly.

Maybe, seeing it was his night off tomorrow, he should get Jenny and Marty to babysit and take Grace out dancing, like they used to. She’d been so worried about him, and he wanted to show her he was making progress, that he was on the mend, even if at times it felt as if he wasn’t. Yes, that’s exactly what he needed to do – reassure her, reconnect with each other. And then he might be able to bury back down the dark that was resurfacing.

* * *

Grace was over the moon with his suggestion, and Charlie’s heart warmed at the sight of her wide smile. Luigi greeted them as old friends at their favourite Italian restaurant and after a romantic dinner, they moved on to the Confetti nightclub to get their groove on. With their bodies edging together as natural as breathing, they lost track of time as they bopped to the faster tunes then waltzed to the slow songs, with Charlie holding her nice and tight. They laughed and sang to each other as he seamlessly twirled her around the dance floor, the two of them completely focused on the music, and each other. Finally, their choppy world had melted away, if only for this one magical night, leaving them floating in calmer waters. There was so much to be said for date nights. They needed to do this more often. Just be together. Just him. Just her. Perfectly as one.

The song changed and picked up the tempo. Squealing with delight, Grace pirouetted, her arms wide as she spun in dizzying circles. Charlie watched her in total awe, the nightclub a watercolour blur. Her vivacious energy lifted his spirit higher than it had been for a very long time. Beneath the glimmer of the disco ball, they moved and jived, pulled together and whirled in each other’s arms, then let go and grooved some more. Spurred on by unbridled enthusiasm, Charlie lifted her high into the air at the crescendo of the hit Bee Gees song. When he eased her back to her feet on the sparkling dance floor, she laced her fingers behind his neck, rose on her tippy toes and kissed him beneath the glimmer of the disco ball with so much passion, so much hunger, his body responded in turn, and he fought not to whip her off to some dark corner and ravish her. When they got home, he was going to make the sweetest of love to her.

With the thought of slowly stripping her and being skin-on-skin, a low growl escaped him. Grace looked up beneath her long dark lashes and smiled sassily. Their gazes locked and time paused, and they stopped dancing. Stopped moving. Just … stopped. In that powerful moment, the world could have ended and neither of them would have noticed.