"He what?" Jane exclaimed, her voice hoarse from her attempt to keep her voice down. "What was he thinking? That doesn't sound like Harry at all."

"I ….. I'm sure he meant it, but …... we haven't yet discussed any kind of future. We've just been ….. enjoying one another. It was ….. too much, and too soon. Marriage is so ….. final."

Jane laughed throatily, her grey eyes sparkling. "I agree, but the very least he needed to have done was to take you to dinner when he popped the question. Harry can be such a prat."

Ruth looked up from her glass of wine, which she'd been quaffing altogether too quickly. She placed her glass on the table a little too heavily. "Harry is a lot of things, but as long as I've known him, he's never been a prat. His ….. proposal was well meant I feel, but ..."

"I'm sorry, Ruth. I keep forgetting that you love the man."

"I ….." And Ruth could say nothing more to that. In less than twenty minutes, Jane Townsend had put her heavily ringed finger right on the nub of the matter.

"You do …... love him too …... don't you? I just assumed you do, because Harry, poor lamb, is besotted with you."

Ruth looked across the table at Jane as she nodded. She could barely speak. She loved Harry – admired him, longed for him, craved his touch. Wasn't that the question to which she'd not known the answer? So …... why oh why had she said no?

"Now ….. all these days later …. I have little idea why it is I turned him down. I gave him reasons, but now ... they seem so ... trite."

"Perhaps you're not yet ready for marriage," Jane suggested, her facial expression showing how seriously she was treating Ruth's dilemma. "It's a huge step. It says: `No matter what happens between us, I commit myself to you for the remainder of our lives.' Who is there among us is able to make that call? Marriage is difficult, and Harry should know that. Perhaps he has created unrealistic expectations about the two of you." When Ruth said nothing in reply, Jane watched her. What Jane saw was a very unhappy woman. "Were you happy with him before he proposed to you?" she asked, her voice surprisingly gentle.

"Yes. We were both ….. very happy."

"Then talk to him, Ruth. He's not a fool …... not all the time, anyway."

"Harry is very intelligent." Ruth was aware of the defensiveness in her tone. "It's …... one of the many things I ….. admire about him."

Jane waved her hand around in a gesture of dismissal. "I know, I know. The man is so bright that you're sitting here having a drink with me, when you should be at home, happily cuddled up to him."

Again, Ruth stared at this woman who had kicked Harry out of her home and their marriage. Was it that easy? Could she just …... talk to Harry, and all their previous misunderstandings would dissolve into the air, never to he heard of again? What if he again mentioned marriage? And was marriage such a preposterous idea? Hadn't she spent many years fantasising about marrying Harry?

"Why do you ... care if Harry and I make it as a couple?"

"As I said all those months ago, if Harry is happy he is more likely to forge a strong relationship with Graham. Besides, when Harry is happy, he can be rather malleable."

"So your interest in Harry and me is purely one of self interest."

"You make that sound like a bad thing. Self interest can be a fine way of protecting one's ... assets. That's one of Phillip's favourite sayings, and it has certainly worked for him."

"I imagine you asked me here for a reason," Ruth said, deciding that she'd said more than enough about Harry to his ex-wife. The bloody woman knew far too much about them as it was.

"Oh," she began, giving Ruth direct eye contact, one eyebrow lifted, "I thought we might do a little girl-bonding. Isn't that what they call this sort of thing? Meet at the pub, and check out the talent?"

"You can't be serious."

"No. I'm not."

Ruth sighed heavily, relieved that she wasn't totally out of her depth. Despite their differences, she quite liked Jane, and there was some deep-seated kernel of curiosity which was driving her to get to know the woman better.

"I take it you know that Graham passed his exams," Jane said at last, her tone no longer teasing.

Ruth nodded. "Graham rang Harry, and he was …. elated ... on Graham's behalf."

"In two weeks Catherine will be in London – hopefully for good this time – and she wants to have a family gathering …... a celebration. She suggested that we celebrate Graham having passed his first year university exams. It's just an excuse, really, but so far in Graham's short life there has been very little to celebrate."

"He did very well," Ruth replied. "He should be very proud of his achievement."

"I thought we could all gather somewhere convenient to us all – me, Phillip, you and Harry, Catherine and a partner, and Graham and that little blond girl -"

"Mikaela."

"That's the one. She seems …."

"She's very sweet. She and Graham seem very well suited."

As Ruth had been speaking, Jane's right eyebrow had again lifted slightly. "I'm glad you approve, Ruth."

Suddenly, Ruth sat back in her chair, as she breathed out. "I don't know if Harry will want me to accompany him," she said quietly, "not after what has happened between us."

Again Jane waved her hand in the air as if batting away Ruth's words. "It was a proposal of marriage, Ruth. You're meant to feel flattered by that, pleased that the man you love wants to spend his life with you ….. I believe that's the sentiment behind it, although God knows most of us don't make the distance. If you still love Harry, and clearly he still loves you, then the problem exists only in your head."

Ruth experienced immediate outrage. "Are you suggesting -"

"I'm suggesting that any problem there may be between Harry and yourself is not insurmountable, and may be exacerbated by your thinking about it far too much and for far too long. I also suggest that you consider what you will gain, rather than what you might lose."

Jesus! Did this woman ever think before she spoke? Ruth sat back in her chair, the only way she had available to her to put distance between she and Jane. "I …. if Harry attends this …... gathering of your family, he might not want me there. We've barely spoken since he asked me to marry him …... apart from at work, that is."

"I'm inviting you, Ruth. If Harry wants to attend, he's very welcome, but if he doesn't smarten up and make it up to you, then you'll be invited as my guest. I like you. My son likes you, and even the mousy Mikaela likes you. I'm certain Catherine will adore you." Jane poured the dregs of the wine into Ruth's glass. "Time for another," she said, getting up and heading to the bar.

Make it up to me? Ruth suspected that she was the one who was in need of making it up to Harry. She was the one who had rejected him. She was the one who had said no to a life spent with him, as his partner. Clearly, Harry's ex-wife was very biased against him. Old habits, and all that.


What Ruth didn't know was that over the previous hour and a half, Harry had tried around six times to ring her, and had left three messages on her voice mail. By nine-thirty he began to panic, and so he got into his car and backed out of his driveway. Not once did he consider that he would be over the legal alcohol limit, which he no doubt was. He was focused on his goal, and nothing could stop him. He drove down his street, and turned left onto the main road.


Ruth and Jane didn't quite manage to polish off the second bottle of wine. Jane checked her phone to find that it was almost ten-thirty, and she'd best head home.

"Phillip worries about me. It's rather nice to have someone caring whether I live or die. It's been a while since I've felt this cherished," Jane said. "I'll call you a taxi, Ruth."

"I'd much rather walk."

"Why don't I drop you home?"

Feeling too weary to argue, Ruth allowed Jane to drop her outside her building.

"That's Harry's car," Ruth murmured, noticing the Lexus parked in front of the flats.

"That's good …... isn't it?"

"I suppose so. I hope so."

As Ruth got out of the car, Jane called out to her. "I'll be in touch about the family get-together, Ruth. Just make sure Mr Grumpy comes with you. You can tell him I'll not let him through the door unless he's accompanied by you."

And with those words, she drove off, leaving Ruth wondering how and when Jane Townsend had become her friend and champion.

One look at Harry's car told her that he wasn't sitting in it, so Ruth headed down the path towards her front door, and found him sitting on the top step, his arms resting on his knees. He looked forlorn and very lonely, and more than a little cold.

"Hello, Harry," Ruth said quietly.

Harry lifted his head and looked up into her face. "Where have you been?" he asked, standing. "I've been trying all evening to ring you."

Seeing the distress on his face, Ruth reached out a hand and placed it on his arm. She was tired, and would rather have fallen straight into bed, but Harry was at her door, and she wasn't about to send him home.

"Come inside," she said. "I believe we need to talk."