Happy Christmas to everyone and thanks for all your reviews. I hope you enjoy this.
Harry was lost. Lost in his thoughts. Lost in time.
Ruth had been watching him for a while now. He was behind his desk, swamped with files but yet he had been sat looking at the same piece of paper for at least an hour, every so often he would write something and then continue to ponder the paper. She wondered what was taking so much of his time.
"Harry"
"Ruth, I need you to wear a tracker to give me warning when you're on the way, warning that's usually provided by knocking."
She ignored him but noticed the casual way he covered the paper in front of him with another file.
"Thought you might fancy a coffee? Looks like you might be here for a while," she added nodding to the pile of paperwork.
"Oh, yes, Ruth. Thank you," he looked softly at her.
She held his look momentarily, it was tender, she smiled before disappearing.
It reminded him of a moment in the past when she had paused and looked at him like that. He reached for his piece of paper.
"Tariq's got something on the Chinese cell," she said sticking her head back around the door a couple of moments later. He got up and left the office. She crossed to his desk, put the coffee down, glanced quickly around and then lifted the file she had seen him move before. There was nothing underneath it. She checked another but there was nothing out of place or extraordinary.
"Ruth" he called from the Grid. She answered the call still curious.
-x-
"Harry seems a little distant today," said Beth.
Ruth looked up at his office, but said nothing.
"Is he alright, Ruth?"
"I don't know," she answered simply.
"He's been at those files all morning and yet doesn't seem to have got anywhere."
Beth had noticed too. Though she hadn't seen the piece of paper that had continued to take Harry's interest long after he had spoken to Tariq.
-x-
Ruth came back onto the grid with a sandwich and tea, she turned to her desk and was aware of Harry watching her.
She crossed to his office, this time she didn't need a tracker to tell him she was on the way, his eyes never left her.
"I thought you might be hungry," she said as she proffered a ham and cheese sandwich."
He smiled wistfully, "I believe I am now you come to mention it."
She stepped forward from the door and handed it to him. And as he reached out his fingertips caught the back of her hand and brushed against her. He did not pull away and neither did she. His hand stopped at the sandwich as hers slowly moved away, lingering a little longer than necessary and tracing a line down the back of his fingers.
He remembered another lost opportunity from the past.
"Are you okay, Harry?" She asked at the sad expression that crossed his face.
"Am I okay?" he repeated.
She waited for him to answer his own question.
"I don't know, Ruth. I don't know."
Her eyes were full of concern as he finally looked at her.
"I will be, yes, of course. I'm fine."
She did not believe him, his reassurance was for her not for himself.
"Well, if you need anything else, just shout, Harry."
She turned back to the door and started to slide it shut.
"Ruth."
She turned.
"There is something I need."
She held her breath. His face was indeed filled with need, an overwhelming need.
"Yes, Harry."
With all his heart he wanted to tell her. Every part of him screamed to tell her. Every hope he had was lodged and lost in her.
"I need a cup of tea, if you've got time."
They both felt the heaviness of frustration settle over them. Again.
"Of course," she said and was gone.
Missed opportunities, thought Harry. Though that couldn't be counted as one of them. Not anymore.
-x-
She brought in his tea but he was not there. His coat was gone and the sandwich.
"Where's Harry?" Ruth asked Beth.
"HS summons," she replied raising her eyebrows.
"Oh" said Ruth, still with the tea in her hand.
"Fancy a cup?" she asked Beth.
"Yes, if it's going spare."
"It is," said Ruth and turned back to the office.
The files were still piled as they had been at the start of the day on the right hand side of his desk, in the centre was a single file, again she noticed, the same as earlier. She lifted it and this time there was something underneath it on the desk. It was a single piece of A4. She looked at it for a long time and then sat down in Harry's chair and looked some more.
It was a list. Not a particularly organized list, not a very neat list, a list with no relevance to work, a list with great relevance to her. Around it's edges there were numerous doodles, detailed doodles that had had time spent upon them, time and concentration. They were a day's work.
Ruth felt the heat rise in her and her breath shorten. She recognized the effect she had had on him and now the effect he was in turn having on her. Her chest tightened at the thought that she had caused him to torture himself so much and she realized how hard her words must have been on him. Why? Why did she have to hurt him? Had she only ever caused him pain? Was that what their relationship was effectively all about? She wondered.
The doodle at the top of the page was ornate and surrounded by a myriad of squirls and loops, it read 1,000 and beneath it was Harry's list, random and incomplete. It was his representation of the 1,000 times she had told him that if he had asked her to marry him she would have said yes. It was a catalogue of moments that they had known each other, some she could recall perfectly, others had apparently been wedged in his mind alone. One of the last things he had written was
79) The upper deck of the bus.
Before it she picked out others:
41) Dinner
45) Havensworth
62) Making sweet white tea in the kitchen.
Ruth felt her eyes begin to sting and the tears begin to well and then she read the final thing on his list.
1001) Churchyard. NO.
-x-
Harry came back on to the grid. It was late. Ruth was still there and so was Beth but the rest had gone.
"Good meeting?" said Beth, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Harry merely grunted and retreated to his office.
"Oops, still no happier, then," she said as she passed Ruth.
Ruth did not respond.
"Is it catching?" asked Beth gently.
"Is what catching?"
"Unhapiness."
Ruth said nothing.
"You look as unhappy as Harry now."
"Do I? Maybe I should," was Ruth's somewhat cryptic response.
"Ruth?"
"I'm fine, Beth, really, sorry. You get off home."
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Sure, now go."
Beth did as she was told. She had joked, but of late their moods had often paralleled one another. She hoped that some day soon they would both be happy at the same time, instead of sad and lost.
-x-
Harry was back at his desk. He looked at the pile of files he had failed to open since the morning. He had to get through them. He reached for the uppermost and opened it and began to read.
-x-
Ruth didn't want to go home. She wanted Harry to smile again. She wanted to stop torturing him. She wanted so much and yet she just sat and watched him.
-x-
He was reading but nothing was going in. He'd been looking at the same obs report for five minutes and he still couldn't have said what it's conclusions were. His mind was on Ruth and on the two of them alone on the grid like so often before. It reminded him of coming back after suspension and her glowing face being there to welcome him back. That was another occasion, another chance he missed, he reached for his piece of paper.
80/81/82) The grid at night alone – more than one occasion'.
He paused and considered, his eyes lost in time somewhere.
He pulled himself from his reverie and sighed. Enough, he thought and reached back for the obs report. As he went to place it in front of him, something caught his attention, something different. He moved it away again and relooked at his list. At the bottom of the page it said,
1001) Churchyard. NO.
And below it was written,
1002) Somewhere. Sometime. YES.
He looked up and she was there, watching him.
He had forgotten to breathe and his heart had forgotten to beat and his hope that had so long been forgotten began to live.
She smiled and hoped he would forgive her.
He smiled and thanked god for the number 1002.