Chapter 33







Julia awoke from her slumber with the strange feeling that she was Dorothy in Wizard of Oz.

She looked around the room, illuminated amber by the street lights outside their window, and saw the plush carpet, wallpaper and the wardrobe door which had her bridal gown on the opposite side.

Laying back down, Jules stared up at the ceiling as she remembered they weren’t in the desert.

“We’re not in Kansas anymore,” Julia muttered Dorothy’s line as she shifted onto her side, feeling the duvet brush her bare flesh beneath the covers, and watched Marc.

Catching sight of the clock on the bedside table, illuminating red, Julia calculated that it would be 0600 hours in Camp Bastion.

They would be just getting up around now in the camp whilst in Britain it was 0130 hours and most people were in bed.

Marc began to stir beside her, as if sensing he was being watched but he did not wake.

Jules was thankful because it meant she could simply lie there and watch him, a smile coming to her lips as she remembered their previous evening.

It had been their first time in a sense although it hadn’t.

Jules had many memories of Marc but the new Jules, as Julia began to call herself, hadn’t. She was determined to make as many as possible.

With their jobs who knew when she would get blown up next.

Jules shook her head, she did not want to think about that now, not when she was sharing a bed with an undiscovered sex God.

Because he was.

To tell the truth, Julia had been experimental when she was young, especially with a young lad from her class called Brad, but she had never been made to feel like that.

Julia did not know how skilled a ‘Sex God’ had to be, or what qualifications they needed, but if it was anything like how Marc made her feel last night, multiple times, then he had to be the best Sex God this side of the equator.

Laying on her side, Jules tried to resist waking him for round four. A smile coming to her lips as she remembered the previous three rounds.

She should have been tired, sprawled out asleep beside Marc, but she was past exhaustion.

Her body was a bottle of energy, waiting for the lid to be taken off of it.

Marc turned beside her, his hair a dishevelled mess from the combination of sex and sleep. His nose was slightly pink from sunburn but his lips looked at kissable as ever.

Following her vow to make memories, Julia knew what she would do next.

Another look at the clock confirmed that she would have another thirty minutes before Marc began to wake, their body clocks synced with Camp Bastion, Afghanistan rather than London, United Kingdom.

They would have to sort that, Julia thought as she swung her legs over the side and looked for something to wear, although she liked nights.

There was something about knowing that she was awake whilst everyone was asleep, there was a sense of danger and exclusiveness that she enjoyed.

The only problem was that it was impractical.

Checking that Marc was still asleep, his arm stretched out towards her side of the bed, Julia made the daring move to hurry across the room naked as the day she was born.

Rummaging through a few drawers before she found the right one, her memories were lacking the specific, useful details, she located a pair of knickers, a bra that wasn’t a sports bra, joggers and a racer back top.

Strangely feeling more at home here than back with her parents, Jules slipped from the bedroom and headed for the bathroom.

After peeing, brushing her teeth and washing her hands, Jules headed downstairs.

She hadn’t had a chance to see it properly the day before so she walked slowly through the rooms, her fingers trailing over their possessions.

The hallway was cream coloured with the same wooden flooring running throughout the entire house, except the stairs.

She quickly moved into the living room.

The same cream colour as the hallway matched three of the walls whilst the fourth, which harboured a beautiful fireplace, had been wallpapered a rich crimson red colour.

A matching coloured rug covered the floor as well as two sofas, adorned with cushions. Julia frowned, but she carried investigation.

Flat screen TV. Laptop. Family photos. Dining table. Archway. Plastic flowers. Kitchen.

“Ah, yes,” Julia thanked the Gods that be as she spotted the coffee machine tucked away beside the microwave.

“Please, please,” Julia sifted quickly through the cupboards as her addiction to caffeine became apparent.

Performing a quiet arm pump of unbridled joy by her side as she found the mugs and coffee, Julia began to make herself a mug.

She wondered if she should make one for Marc but she decided not to. She’d make him one when he woke up.

As the coffee slid easily down her throat like nectar, charging her up for the day ahead, Julia quickly poured herself a second mug and looked around her.

The house was unusually clean. Her room at her parent’s house had been the equivalent of a clothes grenade that had gone off.

Looking out the window over the sink, Julia regarded the garden. A small patio led out from the French doors in the dining room, there was enough room for a BBQ and Jules made a mental note to do one in the summer.

As food entered her mind, Julia’s stomach rumbled.

She had sated her thirst, both kinds, but not her hunger.

“All right, geez,” Jules sighed as her stomach gurgled once again, reminding her that she was hungry.

Laying the mug on the side, Julia opened the fridge and was amazed to find that it had been stocked with the necessities.

Milk. Eggs. Bacon. Butter.

Looking across the kitchen, Julia spotted a loaf of bread waiting patiently to be eaten on the side. She checked the date. It wasn’t due to expire for another few days.

Julia wondered if Marc had a maid but she couldn’t ponder the answer when her stomach growled for the third time.

Grabbing everything from the fridge and most stuff from the freezer, Julia set about making breakfast.

It was twenty minutes later when Jules realised that she was being watched.

She was cooking the bacon, her hips swaying loosely as she listened to an MP3 player she had found with a full battery.

Whoever this maid was they certainly thought of everything.

She had just switched tracks to Frank Sinatra when, in the silence between songs, she heard someone laughing.

Looking over her shoulder, her heart skipped a beat when she saw Marc leaning against the door watching her.

Yanking the earphones out, Jules grabbed a tea towel and threw it at him, “Asshole.”

Marc caught it easily, a smirk still lingering on his tired lips, “I shouted.”

She doubted that, “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you wish,” Marc folded the tea towel and placed it back on the side, coming up behind her and resting his hands on her hips, his lips finding her shoulder.

Julia closed her eyes, unable to concentrate when he was so close to her.

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” Marc moved her hair aside and kissed her neck, “Do you believe that?”

Julia rested her weight on one hip, pursing her lips, “No.” She lied.

“I love you,” Marc repeated the three words he had told her last night, his arms slipping around her waist and holding her against his length.

Julia had just enough mind left to turn the bacon before it burnt, but not for much else.

“Do you believe that?” Marc’s voice was soft and Julia got the sense that he wasn’t joking any longer.

His voice, although light, was filled with hope. He was hoping she would say yes- no, he needed her to say yes.

Knowing that this was important, Julia laid down the spatula and turned in his arms to look up at him.

Julia rested her hands on his shoulders and stared into his eyes. They were soft at the edges from sleep but his cerulean blue eyes were sparkling with desire and hope.

Jules took pity on him as she finally spoke, “I believe you.”

She physically felt Marc sag against her in relief.

“Good,” Marc leaned forward and captured her lips in a soft, morning kiss that had her body growing weak.

“I love you too,” Julia told him as they pulled back, “Do you believe that?”

Marc smirked, turning back into his comedic self, “Definitely. Everybody loves me, they can’t help it.”

Julia punched him in the shoulder.

“Ow! Okay, okay, yes I believe you,” Marc sighed as he leaned his forehead against her, the tips of their noses touching.

Julia closed her eyes, a smile on her lips as she simply let herself be there, soaking everything in.

“Hmm,” Marc agreed, “I could get used to this.”

Julia laughed, “What? Getting woken up at two A.M by my horrible singing?”

“No,” Marc grinned, “But I could definitely get used to seeing you run naked through the room looking for clothes.”

“You were asleep!” Julia gasped.

Marc shook his head, an evil glint in his eyes.

“Cad,” Julia hit him again but she wasn’t behind it, “Next time it’s your turn to run naked in the room.”

“Gladly,” Marc winked, “Wait, why am I running naked? Where are my clothes?”

Jules grinned, “I probably would have burnt them by then.”

Marc looked over her shoulder, “Like the bacon?”

“What?” Julia turned and saw the strips of black charcoal that were smoking in the frying pan, “Agh!”

Jumping forward Julia removed the frying pan from the hob, her nose wrinkling as the smell hit her in the face.

“Nothing changes,” Marc laughed, bumping her hip with his, “Move aside Gordon Ramsey.”

Jules placed her hands on his hips as she heard his comment.

Marc threw what used to be bacon in the bin.

Jules watched it longingly, what a waste!

“Got any more bacon?” Marc asked and Julia dropped the packet into his hand, “Now, watch the master.”

Julia narrowed her eyes but she couldn’t say anything because she had just burnt four perfectly good pieces of bacon which, Julia was sure, had to be a sin in some religion somewhere.

As she watched Marcus return the frying pan to the hob, he nodded to the MP3 player that was still playing on the side.

“Listening to anything good?” Marc smirked.

Julia shut the thing off, “Whose is it?”

“Yours,” Marc lifted a single shoulder in a shrug, “I should have given it to your mum at the hospital, and I know what you get like when you don’t have your fix of Queen,”

That was true, Julia thought. She had made her mum buy her a CD when she got out of hospital.

“But I couldn’t part with it. I would listen to your music sometimes . . . it made me feel close to you.”

Julia didn’t know what to say as her throat began to close up.

“Do we have a maid?” Julia suddenly asked, watching the bacon sizzle gloriously.

Marc burst out laughing, the past comments forgotten, “On our salaries? No. What gave you that idea?”

“Oh, I was just wondering where all this food came from. It’s all in date and it seemed something a maid would have done.”

Marc chuckled, “No, not a maid. My mum has a spare key. She checks on the place when we’re away and stocks up the fridge when we’re due back from deployment.”

“Oh,” Julia nodded, why hadn’t she thought of that? Why hadn’t she thought of Marc’s mother at all?

Julia suddenly felt like a cad herself.

“Speaking of which,” Marc’s tone of voice turned slightly sour and Julia feared what he was going to say, “You should probably ring your mum.”

Marc looked at her over his shoulder and Jules frowned, “Do I have to?”

“Probably,” Marc gave her a look as if to say he was sorry, “I know your Mum and I don’t get on but she’ll be worrying about you, and if you don’t ring her I’ll get the blame.”

Julia calculated the risk of not calling and judging whether Marc would survive the wrath of her mother.

Jules decided against it, “I’ll ring her later when they’re all awake. For now, I want bacon.”

“Yes ma’am,” Marc gave her a mock salute and turned back to the bacon, cooking it to within an inch of perfection.



* * * 8 hours later * * *



Julia sat and watched the clock tick past ten A.M, denying all knowledge of what she had promised Marc, when a phone suddenly appeared before her hovering in front of her face.

She looked at it for a few seconds before turning and seeing Marc stood beside her, stretching the phone out towards her, “Ring her.”

“Ring who?” Julia feigned ignorance.

Marc arched an eyebrow.

Julia growled in frustration.

“Fine,” she snapped, wrenching the phone from his hand.

The numbers looked up at her menacingly when she realised that Marc was still watching her.

Jules frowned at him, “I thought you were leaving to go shopping?”

“Once I see you dial the numbers,” Marc grinned.

Damn him.

Julia clenched her jaw as she hurriedly typed the numbers and pressed the green button.

“Happy?” Julia sighed, annoyed that she had to speak to her mother. The woman who had attempted to keep Julia locked up and away from her true self.

Attempted and succeeded for years.

Pressing it to her ear, Julia heard the sharp shrills of a telephone ringing and Marc still hovered, waiting for her mother to answer.

Julia was praying for the answer machine to cut in but it didn’t get the chance. On the third ring, her mother answered.

“Julia?” Her mother called down the phone in anger.

Jules suddenly felt like she was fifteen years old and ringing home after staying out too late.

Julia sent Marc a look that said she was going to kill him for making her do this, “Yeah Mum, it’s me.”

Marc gave her a thumbs up as he turned to go shopping. Jules threw a cushion at the door just as it shut behind him.