For the second day running, Ruth had woken to a blue sky day, but it had done nothing to lift the mood that she was in. She had picked at her food and had barely slept, as she fought to erase the events of the past week. Whether by coincidence or design, and she suspected the latter, the safe house that she now occupied was within a mile of Thames House. It was in a side street and overlooked the park where she and Harry used to meet. They had done their best to make it a little more comfortable she could see that, but despite their efforts, it was still soulless and unwelcoming. Mercifully though they had left alone which had given her time to think. Quite how she was going to manage she had no idea. Without an identity, she had no hope of getting a job and there was only so long before what little money she had would run out. She had no idea what had happened to her house but she suspected that it had been sold. That got her wondering if there had been a funeral, and if so who had attended and if perhaps Harry had done the reading. There were just too many questions, none of which she could answer. Resolving that she had to pull herself together, she grabbed her bag and headed out through the door. So far she had resisted the temptation, but today it felt too great. She crossed the road and headed into the park and past the bench where she and Harry had so often sat. Another day perhaps she would feel strong enough to sit there, but today she headed to the café beside the lake.
Ros had spoken to Jo but without giving too much away or breaking any confidence that Harry might have told her, she had suggested that she should go and visit Ruth, in an effort to as she put it, 'repair the damage.' Quite how she was going to do that she didn't know, but one look at Ruth had told her that Ros had been right and that one of them, or more specifically Harry should have been to see her, long before now. She looked lost, ill in fact and as though she hadn't slept. This wasn't one of the things that she had been trained to deal with, but Ruth had always been a good friend and it was obvious that it was her who needed one now.
'Sorry if I startled you,' she said, ploughing straight in as she sat down at the table where Ruth was drinking tea. 'I would have been before, but with Malcolm retiring and Harry going away we've been overloaded with the extra work.'
Harry going anywhere other than into Thames House every day was something that Ruth had never considered. It was the picture of him sitting behind his desk that she had held on to, the entire time that she had been away. The way that Jo had said 'away' sounded long term, permanent even. Tring was the first thing that sprung to mind, but surely not, he had resisted all attempts to be sent there for twenty years. Her next thought was that his injuries that she had seen the other day might be more serious or perhaps he was ill, but whatever it was she needed to know.
'Look,' Jo continued, I'm not very good at this and I can see that you're worried, but it's Harry that you need to talk to.'
It was approaching midday and Harry was sitting in his garden. He had walked Scarlet for the best part of the morning in an effort to burn off some of his nervous energy, so much so that it had got to the point where she had stopped in her tracks and demanded that he carry her. 'Sorry,' he had said, as an elderly woman who was watching him tut tutted and looked at him as though she was going to ring animal cruelty. Refraining from saying 'do you realise who I am?' he had smiled sweetly and headed home. It had got to the stage where it was now or never as he stared at his phone, in the hope that by some miracle it would dial itself. His plans were in place whatever her response, so with a deep breath and with is fingers firmly crossed, he dialled her number. Ten minutes later he was back upstairs and contemplating what to wear. Ruth had said yes, and that was all that mattered.
He had struggled to find somewhere to park the car and as a result was late, as opposed to Ruth, who had made up her mind that she needed to be there before he was, and had got there early. She had been sitting on the bench and gazing anywhere rather than at the park gates, so was totally unaware that Harry was standing next to her, until he sat down.
'Is this seat taken?' he asked, as Ruth stopped breathing and lost the power of speech.
'Lunch,' he offered, when he got no response, cocking his head to one side, in a gesture she knew so well.
His plan for lunch as it turned out, was the short walk back to the café for sandwiches and a pot of tea, for which she was very grateful. The way she felt at that moment, she doubted that she would be able to eat at all.
Harry certainly didn't look unwell in fact considering that less than a week ago he had been beaten half senseless, he looked particularly well. He looked nervous she could see that and so was she, but one or other of them needed to break the ice. She was just about to ask him how he was, when he turned towards her and dared to hold her hand. Resisting the urge to ask him what he was doing, she left her hand where it was and waited for him to speak. During all the years that she had known him, she had seen every emotion cross his face, but only once has she seen him cry. Even then he had claimed that it had been the wind, but there could be no such excuse for that today. For the life of her, she didn't know what to do, so saying a silent prayer of forgiveness to George, she put her hands on either side of his face and wiped away his tears.
He took a huge breath and doing his best to maintain eye contact, he stumbled through virtually the same words as he had spoken to Ros. The fact that he was now saying you as opposed to Ruth, made it the most honest and open declaration that either of them had made to the other. He made no mention of his plans to spend a month away from the grid and that he wanted her to come with him; that was for later. Finally, he told her that he loved her.