Seven:
Spy vs. Spy

Ruth smiled over at Tom and said, "If we'd've been really trading, Danny would've made fifty grand." There was a hint of pride in her voice, and Tom clearly approved of her teachings.

"How do you know so much about this?" he asked.

She shrugged a little and her smile faded a touch, becoming self-deprecating. "My husband is a big swinging dick," she said, her voice hardening. "That's slang for a trader." She turned back to her monitor.

"How does Danny stack up?" Tom asked.

"Oh, he's a… huge… talent," Ruth muttered.

She still felt a bit odd, using Gareth's old techniques like she had. He hadn't cared that she was actually sometimes the brains behind his investment strategies. But he always reaped the benefits, and she felt slightly bitter about it now that she lived in a creaky old house with leaks and woodworm and drove a beat-up old Beamer that had seen better days. While he lived in their luxurious house with its white and black and chrome and drove a bloody Rolls Royce.

Tom gave her a concerned glance, but she blew his concern off with a dismissive wave of the hand. Of course, she had other things on her mind. Like how she was going to cover up that she was sending information off-Grid to Downing Street. She felt guilty about it, of course, but… it was the price of doing business, wasn't it? She was out of Cheltenham and in the thick of things, but at a price. She knew if she were to be caught, it would be catastrophic.

So she wasn't about to be caught.


She was on the phone when she tripped on the cat and fell down the stairs. It didn't help that she was on the phone with Gareth – who was reneging on his promise to the girls about being there for the weekend – when she tripped. She half-slid, half-rolled down the flight of stairs, landing finally with her legs going up the stairs at an angle, her torso twisted and bruised around the lowest part of the balustrade, her head dangling dangerously. She tried to move, but only slid further, and her body rolled, catching her abdomen hard on the edge of the step. She bit her lip and whimpered.

"Ruth? RUTH?" she heard from the phone – which had not broken when it had skittered across the floor.

"Mummy!" Daisy shrieked in horror, running over.

"I'm fine," Ruth exhaled weakly. "I'm okay – baby, go get the phone… daddy's on the phone. Tell him I just had a fall and I'm okay."

Daisy shook her head and held her mother's hand tightly. "Nuh-uh, I'm not gonna," she said. "Mummy, you're hurt –"

Rose grabbed the phone, having heard what her mother had told her sister, and said, "Daddy – mum fell. She's okay, she says." She paused and said, "I'm not going to say that."

"Say what?" Ruth asked, trying to sit up. She cringed in pain and fell back against the hard steps.

Rose hesitated, then said very quietly and quickly, "Daddy says you've always been klutzy and this isn't the first time it's happened."

Ruth closed her eyes and sighed. "That's true enough," she murmured.

"Dad wants to know if you need him to come over," Rose added.

"NO," Ruth snapped. "If he can't be bothered to show up this weekend, what makes him think he's bloody well wanted NOW?"

Rose got a very hurt look on her face, and said into the phone, "You aren't coming this weekend? I HATE YOU. GO TO HELL." She hung up and started to cry.

"Mummy, you're hurt," Daisy said softly. "Should we call an ambulance?"

"No, I'm –" Ruth flinched and doubled over.

Rose sniffled and said, "Mum –"

Ruth whimpered and breathed, "Call… grandmum."

"She's all the way in Cheltenham!" Rose exclaimed. "What's she going to do?"

"Harry," Ruth gasped. "Call Harry."

"I don't know the number," Rose said.

Daisy left her mother and ran for Ruth's cellphone on the charger in the sitting room. She came back, phone pressed to her ear. "Mister Harry! Mister Harry, this is Daisy. Daisy Evershed. Yes, Mister Harry – it's an emergency, please. My mummy fell down the stairs and she's hurt. Rose and I don't know what to do and she doesn't want us to call an ambulance –" She paused and said, "Mummy, did you hit your head?"

"No, I don't think so," Ruth gasped. It was hard to breathe, so she thought maybe she'd cracked a rib or two, and her spine and belly felt like they'd been battered by someone with fists at the ready.

"She doesn't think she did, Mister Harry," Daisy said. "Her tummy hurts, though, and she hasn't gotten up." The little girl nodded and said, "Okay – mummy, Mister Harry is coming over. He says not to try to move too much."

Ruth nodded a little and closed her eyes, trying to will the pain to go away. She didn't want to go to hospital for something stupid like falling down the stairs because she was distracted. Her innate clumsiness had reared its ugly head again, and she felt like a fool.

Rose curled up on the stairs beside her, holding her hand, crying. Poor thing, Ruth thought. She wasn't nearly as tough or as laid-back as she projected. In the end, she was easily hurt and her shyness only made it worse. That her father had made her shout was an anomaly and it proved how upset she was.

After a while, the pain ebbed to an uncomfortable ache. She heard Daisy open the door and say, "Mister Harry, thank you for coming – mummy's hurt bad."

Rose whispered, "She's been really quiet, Mister Harry. I'm scared."

Ruth opened her eyes. Harry knelt down beside her and said, "If you wanted me to come over, you need only have called. Not thrown yourself down the stairwell."

She laughed, then gasped as the pain sliced through her again. "Oh, don't make me laugh," Ruth begged.

He checked her over and finally said, "I don't think you need A&E, but you're probably going to ache for a few days. Let's get you onto the sofa and get some paracetamol – Rose, do you know where your mum keeps the tablets?"

"Over the refrigerator," Rose replied automatically.

Harry looked at Rose and said, "Your mum is going to be okay. I promise. But I need you and Daisy to do me a favor."

Rose hesitated, then nodded. "Okay, Mister Harry," she agreed.

"I need you to make your mum a cup of tea the way she likes it best and bring me two tablets of paracetamol," he said in a tone that booked no argument. "Can you do that?"

Rose nodded and said, "Come on, Squish – let's go make some tea and get the pills for mum."

Daisy was clearly torn; she looked back and forth between her mum and her sister, then finally followed Rose. "Why do you call me Squish?" she whined.

"You've seen Finding Nemo," Rose said, her voice carrying from the kitchen. "You're my Squishy – and I shall love you and hug you and call you my Squishy."

Ruth bit back a laugh and groaned. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I didn't know who else to call –"

"No, don't be sorry," Harry said, helping her sit up slowly. "Don't ever think you should be sorry for calling me when there's an emergency. What happened?"

"I was…" She was taking deep gasps between words. "Talking… to Gareth about… the girls and… this weekend… and I wasn't paying… enough attention… and tripped… on the bloody cat."

As soon as she was sitting instead of laying, he kissed her forehead. "You could have been killed," he said softly. "Or hurt much worse than this."

"I know," she whimpered.

He somehow got her to her feet and led her into the sitting room before getting her to lie down on the sofa. He tucked a blanket around her and said, "Do you have any idea how scared I was when Daisy said you fell?" The raw honesty and concern on his face told her all she needed to know.

"Yes," she whispered, reaching for his hand. She held it, squeezed it. "I'm sorry."

He leaned in and kissed her, gently on the lips. "I'm glad you're not seriously hurt," he admitted quietly.

She inhaled and whispered, "Harry… what do you want from me?"

"What?" he asked.

"Am I just… convenient?" she asked, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at him. "Are we just a family for you to pretend with because you can't have the real thing? What do you want from me?"

"Now isn't the time for this," Harry said firmly.

"It's exactly the time," she whispered. "Gareth doesn't want to see them. The divorce is almost finalized. Daisy is yours. I need to know if you're just going to cut and run when things get hard, like him."

Harry was very quiet for a long time. "Ruth, we have a history," he said. "I want there to be more – a future, not just the past. But I don't know how to go about it. I'm not… emotionally… able to tell you how I feel, because I don't know myself."

She swallowed hard and nodded, opening her eyes again. "I could have loved you," she said softly. "But now… I don't know how."

Rose came in with a mug of steaming tea and Daisy carried the bottle of pain reliever. "You should give them to her, Mister Harry," Daisy said quietly. "We're not supposed to get into the bottle."

"You're my good girls," Ruth said softly. "Did you use the microwave instead of the stove?"

Rose shook her head. "I used your electric kettle, mum," she admitted. "Is that okay?"

Ruth nodded and smiled weakly. "Yeah, sweetheart," she murmured. "It's okay."

Daisy gave Harry the bottle of pain medicine and said, "Can you make mummy feel better, Mister Harry?" She looked sad, anxious, and more than a little scared.

"I will," Harry promised, opening the bottle. "Can you and Rose go wait in the kitchen?"

Ruth murmured, "Rose, you can make cocoa with the good chocolate and mummy's good guimauve. And have some of the special biscuits."

"We can?" Daisy said, her eyes lighting up.

Ruth nodded. "Go on," she urged softly. "Make Harry a cup of cocoa, too."

When they were gone, he said, "I'm not sure I should leave you to your own devices tonight."

She shook her head and sighed. "I'm not sure I could move if I tried. Everything hurts."

"Tom came to me today," he said. "He has evidence that you've been spying for Downing Street."

Ruth felt all the blood drain from her face. "Harry – I hadn't any choice –"

He looked at her and said, "I know. Simply put, I know you haven't had a choice because I orchestrated the situation of your employment with MI-5. You're a triple agent and didn't even know it." He sighed. "Tom's going to bluster and blunder about it and you must pretend I haven't spoken to you. Do you understand? I've needed a way to feed just enough information to the government to get them to move on some issues, and you seem to be the most unlikely channel of information I have."

"You're using me?" she hissed.

"Oh, don't play coy," he said. "You wouldn't have wanted to join Five so badly if you didn't want to be a spy, Ruth."

She glared at him. "Don't pretend you know my motivations –"

He leaned in close and breathed in her ear, "If I didn't know better, I would have said your motivation was to get close to me." She shivered, despite herself, and let out a low cry of pain. He immediately pulled away, knowing he'd been the cause. He opened the bottle of medicine and shook out two tablets, and offered them to her with the cup of tea.

She took the medicine and drank the tea greedily. "I haven't had tea since I found out I was…" Ruth paused. "Harry, will Tom fire me? Suspend me?"

"I suggested that he attempt to make you see the error of your ways and turn you," Harry said with a teasing lilt to his voice. "There won't be consequences, since this was an operation more than anything else."

She nodded and closed her eyes. "Go have your hot chocolate with Rose and Daisy," she murmured. "You must convince them that I'll be all right and that they should get ready for bed. They have school in the morning and we have work."

"I'm not leaving," he said. "Unless there's an emergency call, that is."

"Harry –"

"You're in no condition to take care of Rose and Daisy," he pointed out. "Someone needs to."

"But –"

"Don't argue with me," he said.

She closed her mouth and sighed. "Fine," she muttered.

"Mister Harry, your cocoa's ready," Rose said quietly. "Mum, are you okay?"

Ruth nodded and said, "Harry's going to stay tonight and help make sure you and your sister get everything ready for school tomorrow."

"We just need to pack lunch and get our books ready," Rose said. "We don't need help."

"What about your story?" Ruth replied.

Rose said, "We can live without Harry Potter for one night, mum."

"I can read to you," Harry volunteered. "There's no need for you to go without because your mum's down here."

Daisy called, "Mister Harry, your cocoa's getting cold!"

"Go," Ruth insisted. "Both of you."


The cramping started about midnight. Ruth got up, trying not to disturb Harry, who had fallen into a fitful sleep in her easy chair, and limped to the bathroom. Luckily, she was prepared for many things, including unexpectedly heavy periods, and she didn't feel at all like starting to lose the baby was her fault. She hadn't wanted it anyway, and had been ready to commit to an abortion. This was easier, aside from the painful parts.

She examined her bruises in the mirror and sighed. Harry was sweet, looking after her, but what did he want in return? Absolution? Her?

God, she couldn't think straight. She knew she should go to A&E and be looked after, but it wasn't feasible: not when the operation was so near completion at work. Not when the girls needed her. Not when Henry was looking after her so much better than a hospital could.

He knocked on the door. "Ruth? Are you all right?"

She took a deep breath and opened the door. "I'm…" She looked for another word to use, but settled on, "Fine."

"Ruth, you're very pale."

"Well, I'm bleeding like I'm going to die," she shot back. "Of course I'm pale."

"You're bleeding?" he asked, alarmed.

"Yes," she said. "That kind of happens when you're having a miscarriage."

He just stared at her. "Oh, Ruth – god – we should take you to hospital –"

"No," she said softly. "There's nothing they can do but give me drugs to numb the pain now. I'm fine," she repeated. "I'm going to rest."

He followed her back to the sitting room and sat down in the chair again. She felt him watching her, and she sighed. "I'm sorry if my being worried offends you," Harry said.

"No, it's just… I'm not upset about it," she said. "Maybe I should be; maybe I'm a bad mum for not being sad."

"It's a reminder," he replied. "And you don't want to be reminded."

"No, I don't," she agreed quietly. "Do you think less of me because of it?"

"No," he said. "I don't. I think you're very brave, Ruth. In quite a normal way."

She looked over at him and whispered, "Harry… we don't know each other well enough to want things from each other. Do we?"

"Not yet," he answered in that honeyed tone that had seduced her into bed with him.

"But you want a future with me?"

"We don't need to talk about this now –"

"I want to love you," she said quietly. "But it's hard when you've been burned."

"Then I'll be patient," he said.

"You've already been patient," she pointed out. "We have a child together, we had two days of incredible… and – and now – now what?"

"Now, you rest because you fell down the stairs and I'm not entirely certain you didn't knock your head on the way down," he sighed. "There will be time to talk about this later, Ruth."

She closed her eyes and tried to think of a way to say what she wanted to without sounding like a total idiot. It took a long time, but she finally spoke into the darkness. "If we wait too long, later will never come," she whispered.

END PART SEVEN