Our Lad

CHAPTER TWO

I could tell that my mum was worried about me. She always has worried about me ever since I was younger, she would always say how I am her only son and how she doesn't know how she would cope without me.

"I'm fine mum, honest" I said to her as I slowly walked towards her trying not to show her that I am in pain.

"You may be fine now, Marcus Davies but that won't stop me making a fuss over you" she replied, so glad to see me and to be honest, deep down, I was also glad to see her. I never thought I would say it, but I have really missed being home in Edinburgh, it had been a long four months with very minimal contact to the world outside of the army. I guess being home wasn't too bad after all, however, one thing that I most definitely did not miss, was the typical, shite, Scottish weather. As I hugged my mum for the first time since I left for Afghanistan, I felt her squeeze me a little tighter than she had ever hugged me before.

"Oh, my baby, we've all been so worried about you, your dad hasn't slept a wink ever since he found out you had been shot" I guess maybe my thoughts in Kabul weren't true after all, maybe they don't see me as a failure. Maybe they are still proud of me. Maybe I was wrong. My mum insisted that she carried my Burgan to the car for me and as we left the airport terminal and into the carpark, I saw my mums black Vauxhall Zafira getting closer, and closer. The closer I got to the car, the clearer it became that there was one more person sitting in the front, passenger seat, my sister, Rebecca.

Rebecca is my younger sister, only by a year though. We grew up as best friends as well as siblings, along with Dave, the three of us would do almost everything together. Rebecca would always find a way to cheer me up when I was down and she would always be there for me when I needed someone to talk to, and vice-versa. However, me and Rebecca (or just Beck, as I would call her) had very different career paths. I wanted to be a soldier for as long as I can remember however, Beck, on the other hand decided that she wanted to become a professional, women's footballer, and she was good at it too. She made it her only goal in life to go far in her footballing career, like I did with the army, and I am very proud to say, she made it. About two years after I joined the army, Beck managed to get a try-out for our hometown football club, Hibernian (Hibs) and since then she has been doing great, a first team player to say the least and now that I have a little bit of spare time from the army, I'm going to make sure that I go to every one of her games as I can.

As I walked closer and closer to Beck as she got out the car, my smile got bigger and bigger. She wrapped her arms around me, giving me a big hug and started to cry. Me on the other hand, started to laugh.

"I don't know what you're laughing at, Dickhead, I've been worried sick about you!" she said trying to fight back the tears.

"Nah, Beck, you won't get rid of me that quickly, I'll be here bugging the tits off you for ever more!" I replied with a big grin. We both took a moment to collect our thoughts and I lit up a cigarette. Beck stood back from me from there on, she always hated the smell of smoke.

"So does it hurt then?" she asked, looking at my side, "Nah, not at all, I'm good as new Beck" I replied, trying to put on a brave face.

"You don't have to hide it from me, Mark. I'm not mum" she replied, "I can't even imagine what it would be like to get shot" she added.

"Believe me, Beck, you really don't want to, just you stick to football" I replied with a little chuckle, we both had a laugh and jumped into the car, ready to take me home.

As we drove through Edinburgh to get home, we drove past the infamous Edinburgh Castle, I suddenly let out a sigh of relief, it was so good to finally be back home, after so long I forgot what home looked like. We drove past our local chip shop, and I quickly rolled down the window, just to smell the smell of their freshly cooked fish and chips. We drove past our local pub where I had my very first pint of lager and I could still remember the feeling of going to the pub with Dave when Hibs were playing away. Suddenly, all the memories of Edinburgh came flooding back into my brain and I suddenly felt overwhelmed to be back in the city that I call home but most importantly, I'm so glad that none of it has changed.