When Does Love End?

Debbie shrugged, "Oh that. To be absolutely honest I really hadn't given it a lot of thought."

"Seriously!" Claire held up her hands in frustration, "Girl... we need to go for a drink before you go home."

Knowing that trying to object would just give her workmate even more cause to berate her Debbie looked at her watch and, reluctantly, agreed to go for one quick drink before she headed home.

"You are going to go tomorrow though? Aren't you?" Claire questioned her friend as soon as they were settled in the pub, both of them holding a glass of white wine.

Debbie looked offended, "Of course I will. What sort of person do you think I am?"

Claire breathed a sigh of relief. She liked Brandon and hated to think of her friend standing him up.

"I'm doing this just for you, I'm not looking to meet anyone. I'm perfectly happy as I am." Debbie continued repeating her desire to stay single to her workmate, "As I've frequently told you."

"He's a really nice guy, honestly. Just give him a chance. You never know you might just like him." Ignoring her friends comment Claire launched into her endorsement of Debbie's forthcoming date, "And if you like him who knows what might happen."

"I'm sure he is but I'm really not interested. It just seems a waste of my Saturday evening."

Claire took a sip of her drink, "What else would you be doing? Just sitting in front of the television?"

Debbie laughed, "I can think of plenty to do on a Saturday evening thank you."

"So, what are you going to wear?" Claire wanted to know, "You need to dress up a bit. You know, make Deborah's goodies look inviting."

Spluttering into her wine Debbie swallowed and looked at her friend, "Deborah's goodies?"

With that they both erupted into laughter.

"Don't worry I'm sure I'll find something to make 'My goodies' look appealing." Debbie finally managed to say, still giggling.

For the next forty-five minutes the two girls chatted as they drank two glasses of wine each. Claire urging her workmate to be more upbeat and positive about finding a boyfriend while an exasperated Debbie spent the whole time re-affirming the fact that she wasn't looking for any sort of relationship.

"You are going to go though, aren't you?" Claire asked again as the pair of them left the pub to head home.

"Yes, I'm going to go. Stop worrying, I won't stand him up. I Promise." Debbie laughed before saying goodbye.

It took her about half an hour to reach her flat and, putting her key in the lock, she opened the door.

"Hi, I'm home." She called out as she entered.

~~~~~~~~ Chapter five ~~~~~~~~~~

This time Jack was awake when the two medical orderlies wheeled the stretcher out across the landing pad to the helicopter for the first part of his journey to the main base hospital. Across from him in the aircraft the sedated form of Danny Wright lay fastened down and unmoving under a sheet.

"Bye, Jack, look after yourself." Lorna appeared at his side for a brief moment and leaned in to kiss his lips in a completely unprofessional manner, "I know you didn't want to be here but try to take care of yourself."

"Bye Lorna. Thanks for everything," he managed to answer despite his surprise at her gesture.

With that she gave him a smile then vanished as he was strapped in, the flight departing on its short trip to meet the plane flying him out to the army's RRU (Regional Rehabilitation Unit) in Germany.

Less than two hours later he was changing planes, the RAF medical orderlies with the ongoing flight wheeling his gurney up into the belly of a large C130 Super Hercules transport plane. He found himself sharing the flight with several dozen other passengers, some were wounded soldiers like himself while the others were simply servicemen on rotation home.

There was little to do during the journey and after making the acquaintance of a few of his fellow travellers Jack found the time passed slowly.

He knew that his eventual destination would be the MoD's main unit in Loughborough, England and from there he would have a lengthy period of convalescence. His problem was what to do when he went on leave; his mother had, sadly, passed away a few months earlier and apart from a distant aunt, he had no one else in the world.

His aunt would of course love to see him, he knew that, but he didn't want smothering. He needed some time to himself, he was alive and he hadn't expected, or particularly wanted, to be. The fact that he had survived and both his commanding officer and his best friend were both dead added to his almost unbearable sense of despondency.

Postponing his final decision Jack closed his eyes and slept for most of the trip, only waking when it was meal times and, after the meals, he simply wished he had slept through them.

The klaxon sounding jolted him awake just before the medical attendants accompanying the transport made their rounds, prior to landing, to ensure everyone was ready.

"All strapped in and ready are we sarge?" one of the orderlies checked his bindings.

"I can walk off you know." Jack told him sarcastically.

"Orders are orders sarge. You know that." he grinned before moving down the line.

Jack sighed and laid back, the medic was right, there was no point in trying to fight the system.

"Ready to go sergeant?" a burly Geordie asked him once the plane had landed and they waited for the ramp to be lowered so that the injured soldiers could be disembarked.

"I'll be ready when you start pushing." Jack grinned up at him, enjoying the easy banter between soldiers.

"Bloody sergeants! Maybe, I should just let you fucking roll down on your own."

"Bugger off, I'm gonna get out and fucking walk in that case."

The two men laughed.

Being wheeled off the plane he looked around him. He had spent nearly all of his leave spells in Germany enjoying the facilities and amenities that the country had to offer. This time, however, he wouldn't be visiting the Reeperbahn in Hamburg with his mates or even enjoying a few beers.

"Sergeant Maitland?" a corporal in fatigues with a clipboard approached him.

"Yes corporal?"

"How are you sergeant. I'm corporal Jones." He introduced himself and without waiting for a reply waved over two soldiers, "Ambulance 3."

Neither of the two men spoke as they wheeled him to his transport and loaded him into the back.

From the airfield the ambulance took Jack on the relatively short journey to the main RRU hospital where he would spend the next few days or possibly even weeks. He would undergo tests and receive treatment before, hopefully, being sent home to England to begin his long-term recovery.

~~~~~~~~ Chapter six ~~~~~~~~~

Sitting at her dresser Deborah Randall spent several minutes brushing her hair and wondering, for the hundredth time, why she had agreed to go on yet another date for Claire, without coming to any real conclusion.

All the regular thoughts went through her mind. What if her friend was right, she just needed to get back on the horse and meet someone? But if that was the case, why was she so unenthusiastic about her dinner date with Brandon.

Finally, her hair done, she sighed resignedly and decided she may as well go and get the evening over and done with.

Despite her obvious reluctance to go she made her usual effort with her make-up. It was always a pleasure getting made up and she wasn't going to deny herself the simple indulgence.

She had had her nails done earlier in the week so all that remained was to affix her false eyelashes then apply a thick layer of the mascara to them. Eyeshadow and a shiny red lip gloss finished her look to her satisfaction.

Putting on her navy dress she checked herself in the mirror. Perfect she thought to herself, its knee length and relatively high neckline wouldn't encourage any unwanted advances. Despite what Claire had told her she was still apprehensive after her ordeal on her previous blind date with the much older pervert her friend had set her up with.

Slipping on her dark 2" heels she was ready.

"I'm off now. I won't be late," she called out as she closed the front door behind her.

The restaurant was just fifteen minutes away by taxi and Debbie arrived an acceptable ten minutes late.

"Hi, Brandon?" she enquired hesitantly of a young bespectacled man standing outside.

"Yes. Hello Debbie? It's lovely to finally meet you." he smiled at her and offered his hand.

"Sorry, I'm a little late," she apologised.

"It's absolutely fine. Shall we go in?" he politely opened the door for her to precede him.

After checking their reservation, the maître'd took them through and settled them at their table leaving the two of them to peruse the menu quietly, making their choice for the meal.

"Would you like a drink?" he enquired after a few minutes, breaking the silence that had descended on them.

She looked up, "Err... yes, yes thank you, that would be lovely. A dry white wine if you don't mind."

Calling over one of the attendants Brandon gave their order to him and then sat back quietly watching his date as she continued to study the menu meticulously.

Keeping her head down and her eyes on the list before her Debbie tried to put off the moment when she would have to properly converse with the young man sitting opposite her.

"Decided?" he asked after the server had returned with their drinks, a white wine for Debbie and a beer for him.

"Umm... yes I think so." Debbie put her menu down and gave him a brief rather weak smile.

Calling over the waiter again they indicated their choice for dinner; Brandon choosing the chicken supreme while Debbie went for a simple pasta dish.

"You don't really want to be here, do you?" he asked her pointedly once their order had been taken and the server had departed.

Embarrassed at being found out so easily she gave him a rather forlorn look, "I'm sorry, is it really that obvious?"

He nodded, "Afraid so."

"Sorry I'm... I'm just doing this to shut Claire up. I'm really not interested in a relationship right now." She told him honestly. apologising again, "Sorry but that's the way it is."

Brandon smiled politely, "It's ok I understand. If you want to go..."

He left the sentence unfinished, waiting for her to make some sort of decision.

"No. It's fine. Let's have dinner now that we're here but I insist on going halves on the bill though." Debbie relaxed a little now she had made her situation clear to him.

"As you wish." He grinned, hopeful he could make an impression on the attractive girl sitting opposite him by the time they finished eating.

Picking up her glass she took a mouthful of her wine before giving Brandon a friendly smile, as she sat quietly contemplating the situation she found herself in yet again.

He was a nice guy just as Claire had said but, as charming as he was, he wasn't for her. She had realised that the moment she met him, the same as every other guy she had dated at her friend's insistence.

Enjoying the meal, they chatted amiably about the few things they had in common, mostly their respective work and, of course Claire, until the coffee arrived.

"I really would like to see you again." He asked hopefully holding his cup before him, "You're very pretty and smart to."

"Thank you." Debbie frowned, "But I'm sorry Brandon the last thing I want in my life right now is a boyfriend."

Looking somewhat dejected he shrugged, "Nothing I could do to change your mind?"

She shook her head, "You're a really nice guy. I'm certain there's someone out there for you but it's not me."

"Thanks." He tried to smile, "Whoever he is he's a lucky sod."

Debbie didn't answer him just let her eyes glaze over as if remembering something or someone. She didn't speak, just stared into emptiness and wondered how her life had come to this, going on dates with men she didn't want to see again.

"There is a someone isn't there?" he probed.

Debbie took a deep breath, "There was once...."

Brandon realised her comment had effectively finished that discussion and politely said no more about it.

Once they had settled the bill, with Debbie again insisting that she paid half, he escorted her out to the street.

"Would you like me to take you home?" he offered hopefully.

"I'll be fine but thanks anyway." she declined, flagging down a passing cab before kissing him on the cheek.

"Good night Brandon. Thank you for this evening." She said her goodbyes.

"Like I said whoever he is he's the luckiest guy alive. I hope he appreciates you." He told her as she got into the taxi, "Goodnight Debbie and good luck."

Waiting until the cab drove out of sight before he turned and, taking a deep breath, started to walk slowly away.

Sitting in the back of the back of the car Debbie felt her eyes tear up and thought about what Brandon had said. Appreciate her? He hated her she knew that much, not that he had ever told her but she knew. How could he not after what she had done?

Once again, she considered the possibility that just perhaps Claire was right and she did need to move on and find a man to complete her.

Maybe she should have given Brandon more of a chance. He was nice enough.

She sighed tiredly there were to many unknowns and maybe's, she needed to let go of them. Going on the date as she had done as she promised now, hopefully, Claire would stop trying to pair her up.

Back at home Debbie paid the driver her fare before entering her building and taking the stairs up to her front door on the second floor.

"Hi, I'm back." She called out as she stepped into the hallway.

~~~~~~~~~ Chapter seven ~~~~~~~~~

"So how am I doing sir?" Jack asked the doctor as he sat on his bed flexing his leg.

He had been in the RRU in Germany for nearly two weeks now and he was walking, albeit a few steps, and doing a little more exercise each day that passed. Getting stronger Jack had applied for leave to go back to England on compassionate grounds but despite his progress the doctors had refused to allow him home for the funerals of his two comrades.

He had become quite morose over the fact he hadn't been able to attend and had been struggling with depression over it.

The white coated Major looked up from the folder and gave him a lukewarm smile, "Very well sergeant, very well indeed but it's not something to be rushed."

"Sir."

Starting with his pulse rate the doctor checked Jack over before taking his stethoscope out of his ears, "All good here but your mental state worries me sergeant."

Making a few more notes on his chart the officer turned to the nurse with him, "I think we can send sergeant Maitland back to England for now. Can you make the necessary arrangements with transport please?"

"Yes sir." The male nurse, an older man, nodded.

"How long will they keep me in hospital once I'm home sir?" Jack queried.

The doctor frowned, "A week possibly two or more. It all depends on your progress but as long as they're happy with your psychological profile and they can keep an eye on your recovery you'll be released on leave."

"And what about returning to active duty, sir?"

"That's another matter altogether sergeant." The major pursed his lips giving the question a little thought, "It all depends on your progress but certainly not for a couple of months maybe three."

After they had gone Jack lay back on his pillow. He would be going to the army medical centre in Loughborough for a while but, once he was released from there, he would have to decide what to do with his convalescence leave.

There was always the choice of going home. He still might have friends there but he hadn't been back in over three years and he wondered if any of them would still be around. Then again maybe he should just forget about it, there wasn't really anything there for him now. One thing he was ging to do though was visit the graves of Lieutenant Carstairs and Colm to pay his respect.

"Tomorrow." The voice of the male nurse jerked him back to reality, "They can fit you on a flight tomorrow morning. You're going home sarge."

"Brilliant." Jack replied less than enthusiastically, "Now what's for dinner?"

"You don't want to go home?" the medical orderly looked at him quizzically.

He shrugged "Yes and no I guess."

"Ah a bit like that is it. I know the feeling, to many ghosts?" the older man said knowledgably before changing the subject, "So what would you like to eat today?"

Picking the chicken pie, he put the thought of home out of his mind for the moment and enjoyed his dinner.

After he had eaten, Jack lay back and tried to sleep but as tired as he was, he just couldn't. The thought of England and what he was going to do was weighing heavily on him.

Eventually though he did drift off for at least for a few hours until the medical orderlies came to collect him for his trip to the airport.

The journey itself was completely uneventful; an ambulance to the military airport and then a plane ride to Brize Norton.

Disembarking from the transport once they had landed Jack paused and looked around him. Apart from a few days leave to attend his mother's funeral this would be the first time he had been back in England for over two years.

With his paperwork sorted there was just the final drive, by ambulance, up to the state-of-the-art medical facilities at Loughborough.