Carson was stronger than most, and fearless. One had to be in our squadron. He was the one that came back from our messy tour of Afghanistan and helped pick up the pieces for many of the guys in our unit.
SAS training made us strong physically and mentally, but emotionally that was a whole different story.
Carson still had his demons. He just didn’t talk about them.
With what we’d seen and experienced, it was best we kept it between ourselves. When I felt like the ground was crumbling beneath me it was Carson or Travis or one of my other army pals that I reached out to. Not a shrink. Only soldiers understood what we’d really been through.
“So, you’ve got a proposition, I believe?” He sat back and sipped on his dark ale.
The barmaid shuffled over and laid down a plate of hot chips and a tiny bowl of tomato sauce.
He looked up at her and nodded.
He pointed at the bowl. “Help yourself.”
I shook my head. “I had a big breakfast.”
He smothered a chip in sauce and popped it in his mouth. “Tell me about this new role.”
“You’d have to move to Bridesmere. Would that be an issue?”
“Nup.” He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Are there plenty of pretty girls?”
I smiled. “I suppose there are, going on Ethan and his endless pursuits.”
“Your rich brother goes for commoners?” His dry, gravelly delivery made me chuckle.
“He goes for whoever’s pretty and willing. But sure, he doesn’t mind getting down and dirty with a farmer’s daughter or two.”
He sniffed. “I like the sound of your brother.”
“You’ll meet him soon enough. Ethan’s a bit of an airhead, but he’s a good guy deep down.”
“That’s all that counts.” He munched on a chip. “So, a boot camp for troubled youth. Mm… I could’ve used one of those.”
Carson had been locked up for stealing cars and minor infringements when he was a teen. Brought up by a single mother, who he preferred not to talk about, he’d grown up on the wrong side of town and learnt to make his own breakfast by the time he could say “Mama.”
“That’s why you’d be perfect. You’ve been there,” I said.
Lost in thought, he wore an abstracted expression. “You do realise we’re not miracle workers, don’t you?”
I smiled faintly. “Look, if we can help three out of forty, then we’re still potentially saving a life or two in the future.”
“You’ve got your sights set on low. I reckon we can at least save five.” His eyes gleamed back at me, and a smirk grew on his face.
“I know what you’re getting at. It’s as unknown as a campaign in Afghanistan. But that’s the point.” The fire of ambition flowed through me. “If we don’t do this, no one else will.”
“They have similar programmes in youth prisons. But hey, count me in.”
“Thanks, mate. That means a lot.”
“So when do we start?” he asked. “And are you recruiting a few others?”
“Maybe Travis. I’ll contract counsellors and maybe a hip-hop and piano teacher.”
The piano idea just popped out spontaneously. I was just as surprised as Carson, whose puzzled frown amused me.
“Hip-hop. Sure. I get that. But fucking piano?”