Author Note: The Girl Who Fell Out of The Ocean is a first draft and is still quite raw thank you for reading please comment and vote if you are enjoying this story, thank you xx
The Beach- Marxby Manor- Present Day
Charlie takes a moment.
He takes a moment to relish in the feeling of Lavinia's soft pink lips pressed against his, he wants to run his hands all over her body and pull her on top of him but something in him says no.
No.
No.
No.
Like a block or a barrier, no Charlie it kept saying, over and over again, Charlie gently moved his face away from Lavinia's brushing her hair away from her beautiful freckled face.
She frowns, offended, trying to move her body closer to him again, what was he doing? He had to want her, didn't he?
"What is it, Charlie?" Said Lavinia trying to touch his face, he moved back, feeling his body reject what was happening again, never had his mind and body been so separated, so distant from each other.
He cringed slightly, what was it, what was stopping him from picking her up by her tiny waist and carrying her into the waves.
"Don't you want to just live?" She cried.
"Lavinia since I've met you I've been using you as a focal point and I'm so, so grateful to have you in my life, you keep me anchored to this earth but it does us no good to hang on to each other like this, if we hang onto each other so tightly we will never heal."
Lavinia laughed at him and stood up leaving him lying in the wet sand.
"You love me! I know it," she said a bit too loudly, her hair was bright red and curly thanks to the moisture and the restless sea air he couldn't help thinking she looked like a goddess any man would want her, any man should want her.
Charlie stood up and as he did rain started to fall, the calm sea of yesterday was now raging, grey and angry looking it spat out at them and he felt the salt water hit his face.
"I need you, just like you need me," said Charlie.
Charlie felt Lavinia's green eyes on him, burning into him, they would have burned through him if they could.
"But love?" He said.
"Dolly, how could I ever love a ghost?"
Lavinia heard herself gasp, Charlie had called her Dolly, no one had called her Dolly not since she'd died.
"Say it again," said Lavinia suddenly not caring about Charlie only about her name, a name she thought she had lost.
Dolly.
Dolly.
Dolly.
"I won't," said Charlie realising his mistake.
Charlie was beginning to see there was no Lavinia there was only Dolly, the past and the present were slowly becoming one and as Lavinia was trying to find a place for herself in the present it was Charlie who was becoming more and more fascinated by the past.
They were ships who were passing in the night, soon their time together would be over and both would head forward in their own direction wherever that may be.
Lavinia stormed away from the beach Charlie's words ringing over and over in her head like a never ending bell "How could I ever love a ghost?
That's what I am thought Lavinia, a ghost, a worthless nothing, no more than a shadow.
"Where are you going?" Cried Charlie
"Home." Cried Lavinia back at him as she stormed up the sandy beach and past the cliffs.
He didn't know if she meant Marxby Manor or back to Manchester he just prayed she meant the latter.
"It wouldn't be right," he said under his breath as he watched her walk away.
"It wouldn't be right."
The Hospital –France- 1915
Dear Charlie,
Don't think I'm not angry with you because I am but I have gotten so to used to writing to you that I don't know how to give it up.
I was used to the general day to day of France, not that there really was general day to day it was so different to everything I had ever known.
What I mean is the place, the hospital had a sense of routine our matron saw to that, she was a fiery blonde nurse who was so focused on getting the men the absolute best care possible. She knew that in the conditions we were in we had to be regimented and on our absolute best form all the time.
Whether it was making beds, burning used bloody bandages sometimes from the battlefield or dealing with our patients working to the best of our ability was the most important thing, for the sake of the men who came through our doors sometimes with little or no hope at all.
Sometimes I wanted to throw up, run away, run home even, but Matron would remind us that we had no right to be sad, or afraid or feel sick because we weren't the ones with blown off limbs, we weren't the ones who had seen our friends die before our very eyes. When she said these things I always thought of Jimmy and prayed where ever he was he was safe and unharmed.
It's funny I never believed in God but Jimmy did and I thought if he was right and I was wrong then it didn't hurt me to get down on my knees and beg God, all the Gods actually to keep my brother safe, bring him home because he was good and kind and loving and...
And that's normally where it ended, that's where my lack of faith would kick in and I would have to rely on my love and I loved my brother and if that counted for anything in this life I hoped it would stay with him and carry him safely home.
Every day I would see Will, he was a surgeon so I would see him in his white jacket rushing from one tent to another. We tended to ignore each other and it became like we were strangers, we wouldn't blank each other exactly but our eyes would graze over each other and that would be it.
Sometimes I would hear his gruff Scottish voice talking, or laughing and joking with someone else and I was reminded of the Manor, my wedding and the last time we saw each other at the station.
Will had moved on, it was just easier that way, easier to live and breathe in silence and in this stony cold air that surrounded us.
Whenever we were around each other sometimes I wondered if there was anything left to say?
The Girl Who Fell Out of The Ocean is updated every Wednesday and Sunday! :-)