Apart from the dim lighting in the entrance hall and a few bedside lights that had yet to be extinguished, by the time that Ruth stepped outside, the house and the grounds were in complete darkness. Assuming that Tariq had been right, for some inexplicable reason Harry had chosen to go out there alone. Despite what she knew to be an irrational fear of the dark, she headed in the only direction that was vaguely familiar to her and followed the same path that they had taken on the previous day. Without Harry beside her and with every step that took her further away from the house, she knew that she was doing something that would be deemed to be dangerous. The house might be filled with a multitude of Security Services agents, but both she and Harry were on their own outside. Had she not been driven by knowledge that he was out there somewhere and might be in danger, she would surely have turned back.

At the point of no return when even the lights from the house were invisible, she heard rather than saw him; wracking sobs no more than a few steps in front of her. Despite the darkness the adrenalin kicked in and she stumbled forward feeling her way as she went, terrified as to what she might find until she almost tripped over him.

'Harry for God's sake what's the matter,' was past her lips before she had time to think as was her instinct to wrap her arms around him and nestle his head against her shoulder as he continued to weep. It felt like an age before he finally quietened but eventually he managed it and attempted to find his handkerchief. He was frozen to the bone and was trying to struggle free, but in this instance she was more determined than he was and continued to cradle him as if he were a child. As he started to relax but remained silent, her mind ran away with her. Was it possible that something had happened to either Catherine or to Graham that he hadn't told her but surely there hadn't been sufficient time for him to have received a message? Or Malcolm she thought, oh please God don't let something have happened to him.

Perhaps because she couldn't actually see Harry but could only feel him, she did what in the light would have been so out of her comfort zone as to have been deemed impossible. When he finally lifted his head, she leant in and kissed him. It was a kiss born out of a huge surge of love for this complex and so usually contained man who was unburdening himself from whatever was troubling him. If answers weren't going to be forthcoming, then it was the only way that she had to express how much she loved him and to let him know how helpless she was feeling. To her utter relief, despite the fact that he was still shivering uncontrollably Harry appeared to have stopped crying and was kissing her back with a need that matched her own.

'Harry, I need to get you into bed,' raised more than a chuckle, but still no explanation as to what had upset him. It was his way it had never been any different, he would eventually tell her she just needed to be patient. Besides which explanations could wait, it was far more important that they went back inside before they both froze to death.

With every faltering step that they took, the answer as to what happens next became less and less certain. It was nearly 2am and in less than five hours they would be required to been seen at breakfast. Harry's most private of dreams had been that he would take Ruth to Paris and it would be there that for the first time, he would make her his own. He had determined that it would be special so knew that if anything were to happen tonight, in a bed with the only the width of a wall between them and their colleagues that he would regret it. None the less he and he hoped Ruth as well, didn't want to sleep alone. Continuing the 'don't we get on better in the dark theme' they crept along the corridor, quietly opened the door to Ruth's room and then climbed into bed. For tonight at least it was sufficient for both of them, that he could hold her in his arms until they both fell asleep.


On the other side of the wall, Ruth's housemate was still awake. She had called earlier to say goodnight only to find that her room was locked, so Ruth had either changed the habit of a lifetime and had become a very sound sleeper, or she wasn't there. She'd guessed the latter. Hearing a door open and then the sound of the loo being flushed twice was to put it mildly, a racing certainty for a spy. The only other question that remained unanswered was if this particular night was going to turn into a definitely or maybe scenario. Roll on breakfast, she would get there early.

They certainly looked tired Harry especially, but Beth's heart sank when he bypassed their table with nothing more than a nod and curt 'morning Ruth morning Beth,' and then went to sit on his own. Jean Paul on the other hand looked as bright as a button and with all of his previous evening's ambition apparently still intact, came over and joined them.

'You're wasting your time my old son,' thought a now confident Harry as smiled inwardly and then calmly continued to enjoy his breakfast.


It was of course Sunday and at ten thirty they were required to go to church. In deference to their visitors the service that had been put together was conducted partly in French and partly in English. Opening with the European Anthem from Beethoven's ninth couldn't have been more appropriate and of course held more than a passing significance to Harry and Ruth who were sitting side by side and directly opposite Dimitri Tariq and Beth. Not a person known for going to church other than for the far too many funerals that he'd been forced to attend, Harry was as close to being at peace as he'd ever been. Whilst the various readings and prayers were being said, he was sitting close enough to Ruth to be able to link his little finger with hers whilst continuing to plan what to do when they got back to the UK later on that evening. He'd called a delighted Malcolm who was currently spending his Sunday morning on the telephone doing Harry's bidding. During the hymns when he was obliged to stand and make an effort to sing, he had the advantage of marvelling at Ruth's beautiful voice and the fact that she could sing in both languages. Had it not been for Ruth's prompting when it was either time to stand up or sit down, he would have completely lost the plot such was his daydreaming.

Departure time and the drive back to the airport was at two pm, but before that they needed to pack and then attend a short buffet lunch during which time they were allowed to mingle and to say their goodbyes. There was a certain Frenchman that Harry intended saying goodbye to with a clear and unmistakable message. He may not have been able to speak French with any confidence but he was fluent in German, so when it came to this particular young man who was Ruth's equivalent, he felt very confident that he could explain to him that the email that he had promised to send Ruth should never arrive. Ruth meanwhile was wondering how she was going explain to Beth that when they arrived back in the UK that Harry wanted to take her into Oxford for the evening, so would she mind travelling back to London with Dimitri and Tariq. Beth wasn't a fool, Ruth knew that during the church service rather than concentrate on what she should have been doing, she'd been preoccupied with watching her and Harry. Dimitri had gazed at her as well but after the previous evening's antics that came as no surprise.

'Well what a night that was,' said a voice in her ear, as she turned to face Beth and wondered not for the first time if she was telepathic or worse still knew that she and Harry had spent the night together in the non-biblical sense, in which case she might think they were past it.

'Was it?' she replied, trying to sound vague and not to dig herself in deeper but still wanting to find out just how much Beth knew or maybe had heard.

Having seen Ruth blush Beth was even more determined to keep her on the hook.

'Jean Paul's gorgeous isn't he, are you going to keep in touch?' was Beth's next attempt to wind Ruth up.'

'Probably not,' answered Ruth bleakly. Where the hell was Harry when she needed him, he would be able to shut Beth up with a single word? He was nowhere to be seen as it happened, so she continued to flounder and told her that he was all hers if she wanted him and that she would give her his email address.

She was saved by the bell or in this case Dimitri and Tariq who had wandered over to join them and taken over the conversation. Drifting away from her dreams as to what a complete evening in Harry's company might lead to, she focussed her thoughts on the last few days. It seemed inconceivable that her three young colleagues who had been with Section D for such a short space of time could have conducted themselves in such a professional manner as to make her feel proud to be working with them. Moreover how quickly they had fitted in to replace all those who had gone before. Was this how Harry had managed to cope over the years with all the losses? Oh God she thought realising that she had her answer. Harry had watched her the previous evening and not surprisingly bearing in mind what she had said, had believed what he had seen rather than knowing what was actually happening.

'Penny for them Evershed,' asked Dimitri, bringing her back to the here and now.

Rather than answer his question she looked at her watch and realised that they had less than twenty minutes before the cars would be arriving to take them back to the airport, and that Harry had arrived back in the room and was deep in conversation with Jean Paul.

'Right, lets head upstairs and get our luggage,' she said in her best I'm in charge here voice, before asking as if it were a throwaway remark if Dimitri minded taking Beth back to London.

She was certain that she saw a tiny smirk pass cross Beth's face and she knew that her own face was flushing.


The flight back at least for Harry and Ruth was a lot more relaxing than it had been on the way over. Whether the PM had achieved what she wanted they had no idea and didn't really care, they had an evening together to look forward to. Even though they had gained an hour it was still dusk by the time that the plane's wheels hit the tarmac, although unlike the skies over Paris it was a clear as a bell and a single star had appeared in the sky. It had been several years since Harry had been to Oxford but he had gambled on his assumption that some things would never change and had won. The White Heart Hotel on the outskirts of the city had stood there for centuries and as Malcolm had found out earlier, they did have a double room available. A small but non pretentious restaurant unlike the one where he had first taken Ruth out to dinner had been his second request and a table had been booked in his name at the Pilgrim's Rest close to the city centre. If Ruth wasn't happy with either of these ideas then they could easily be changed. This time he had thought things through, he would be guided by her and he was more than happy to take things slowly if that's what she wanted. Before anything else happened though, they needed to find somewhere to park the car and to have a cup of tea.