Seven Years (#3 in Military Series)

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

Stood in her parents kitchen in Lower Bishops Green, trying to work the kettle with one hand, was as far from Afghanistan as Jules could get.

She was counting the days until she could go back.

"Morning sweetie," Her mother appeared in the kitchen bright and early, a wide smile on her lips.

Jules rolled her eyes mentally, "Mornin'."

"Oh, honey, let me help you with that," Katherine hurried through the kitchen, her small heels tapping against the tiles.

"I'm fine, Mum," Jules held the kettle out of her way as she placed it in the sink, turning on the faucet.

"Well, I'm here if you need any help," Katherine continued to smile, she would not let her daughter's bad mood affect her own. She finally had her daughter home.

I don't want your help. Jules bit her tongue as her father appeared shortly after.

A military man he had always awoken early, he could never get out of the habit, however it was a shock to find that his wife had gotten out of bed before eight a.m.

"Julia- Oh, morning, Katherine," He placed a kiss on their cheeks, "How are my two favourite ladies this morning?"

"Fine, dad," Jules placed the kettle on the hob, smiling in triumph as she did it by herself.

"How's the shoulder treating you?" Her father joked as he grabbed himself some toast and got the margarine from the fridge, "Getting shot hurts like a bitc-"

"-Language," Katherine interrupted them as she took a seat at the table.

Jules and her father shared a look before he continued with his story, "When I got shot in the leg over in-"

Katherine gave a loud, audible sigh, "No military talk, please,"

Jules looked away as her father smiled apologetically at his wife.

Her mother always reminded Jules of an ostrich. She would stick her head in the sand and ignore what everybody was telling her.

'Julia had been shot by the Taliban.' Katherine would mutter something about how everything would be alright and then- POP! Her head goes into the sound.

"What are you planning to do today, Julia?" Her mother asked as the kettle began to whistle, cutting through the thick tension.

Jules shrugged, hating how her mother always called her Julia, "Figured I'd go for a run and watch some telly."

"Well, instead of the television set, why don't you sort through all of your clothes upstairs? You hardly wear any of them anymore and Barbra, down at the Knit'n'Stitch group is organising a charity fair. She could do with some hand-me-downs."

Jules did not want to argue so she nodded her head and made herself her cup of tea which was what she had come down for in the beginning, not a lecture.

"Just put them in black bags and then leave them by the stairs. I'll take them over-"

"-Morning!" Rhys came panting in through the back door, letting it slam shut behind him.

"You went for a run?" Jules frowned at him, "Why didn't you tell me!?" She could have avoided all of this.

Rhys headed for the fridge, removing a chilled carton of orange juice, "I didn't think you could run, GI Jane."