Backfire

Chapter Eight

Getting up the next morning Ruth was surprised to find no Harry. Pouring herself a cup of tea she asked Malcolm where he was.

"He got a call from the Home Secretary and had to go. He asked me to take care of you, if that's okay with you of course. I wouldn't want to presume anything Ruth but anything I can help you with I will. And before you ask Mother is fine, my cousin is looking after her, will be until I give her the word so don't worry about that."

Ruth noticed a pen and paper on the worktop and picked it up, she was sure that Harry wouldn't mind. "I think that I need to make a list Malcolm, I think better when I have things in a tangible form, I'm not so good with abstracts." And she began to write.

Malcolm excused himself and left her to it telling her to call him when she was ready. He was pleased that she seemed calmer, he was sure she was still devastated but she was certainly more composed. Last night had been an emotional roller-coaster and if there was one thing that he wasn't good with it was open raw emotion. And this morning when Harry told him that he'd have to leave him to look out for Ruth he'd been panicked. He doubted if he'd be able to gather Ruth in his arms the way Harry had but then he'd thought to himself I'm not in love with her the way Harry is. He'd been really worried that she'd be bothered by Harry's absence but she seemed to have accepted it and now he thought the analyst in her had kicked in and she was dealing with the awful situation the best way she could.

Part of him felt guilty because he knew he was the cause of Harry's absence. They had had a very quiet slanging match this morning so as not to wake Ruth. It had started when Harry had begun to ask Malcolm which was the best route to Exeter.

"You can't seriously be thinking about going to Exeter with her Harry? That's totally inappropriate, given the circumstances."

Harry's head had snapped up and he had given Malcolm his best death ray Grid stare "And just what do you mean by that Malcolm? Explain yourself!"

"Oh come on Harry! I'm not saying that all your actions are promoted by self interest but do you really think that it's fair to Ruth? Your feelings for her are as plain as the nose on your face. You know that yourself, why else did you ask me to come over and be a chaperone? She's got enough on her plate at the moment without adding anything else into the mix."

Harry had of course protested and bluffed, protesting his innocence until he noticed the look on Malcolm's face. He respected Malcolm in many ways and he knew in his heart of hearts that Malcolm was spot on in his assessment. The side of him that he despised was looking to make the best of the situation, had considered how best to turn the whole sorry mess to his advantage. And at that moment Harry Pearce hated himself with a vengeance.

And Malcolm's next words only made him feel worse."I know Harry because Hugh Logan knew how you feel about her."

"Yes, I know Logan was aware, he sent me a letter telling me that he entrusted her to me, expected me to see her through this and I intend to Malcolm no matter what you say. She needs me and I will be there for her."

"As long as you are there for her Harry and not to fulfil some dream you have concocted around her, she's very vulnerable at the moment and I don't want you to be tempted to take advantage of that. NO! For once Harry just keep quiet and let me speak. Her husband has been dead less than what thirty six hours? And all ready you're trying to fill that role, maybe not overtly but definitely covertly. Damn it man it's like you're treating the whole sorry mess like an operation. Just take some time away from the situation and let the dust settle for a few days and then you can contact her again when she's safely back with her family."

"What are you accusing me of Malcolm, do you think that I would take the chance to pursue her? To take her to my bed? To offer her the ultimate comfort? If you think like that Malcolm you don't know my Ruth very well! She would never in a million years countenance such actions, she would never, ever do anything like that!"

"There we have it Harry, you said it yourself My Ruth, she's not Your Ruth Harry. I sincerely hope, if it's what you both want that she is one day but now is not the time to be thinking along those lines. Go into work I'll take care of her until we can get her down to Exeter and back in the care of her family. Take a step back, you've done the right thing up to now Harry and she has no idea about your feelings, let's keep it that way, for both your sakes but especially for Ruth's.

Harry had huffed and puffed for a while longer but in the end he'd agreed that Malcolm was probably right and had headed out of the front door and back to the team to tell them the awful news.

Re-entering the room Malcolm saw that Ruth was still sitting at the table but that she looked composed and quieted nearly like the Ruth who inhabited the Grid. He asked her if she had made any decisions and if she had how could he help her?

"I need to go to Exeter Malcolm, I need to go back to my house pack a bag and go down to Exeter. What I need to say needs to be said face to face and it needs to be said soon. I was selfish yesterday, people other than me will be just as shattered as I am by this and I need to be there to comfort them. It will be awful but I have to do it. Can you take me home Malcolm please?"

And so it was that about four hours later Malcolm pulled the car into a quiet street in a pleasant suburb on the outskirts of Exeter. Ruth leant over and kissed Malcolm softly on the cheek saying "Thank you for being so kind Malcolm and thank everyone else for me as well. Oh and tell Harry I'll be in touch." And taking a deep breath she got out of the car, picked up her bag and walked up the drive.

Malcolm watched as an older woman who he surmised was Ruth mother opened the front door and said a few words looking over Ruth's shoulder at him. He drove away leaving Ruth in safe hands. About a mile down the road he pulled over and took out his phone "She's home Harry" was all he said before he hung up and pointed the car in the direction of London.

Ruth never did really talk about what went on that day, it became something that she chose to put into a box somewhere, a box that she didn't take out and open at all if she could help it. Her mother as she had predicted to herself was near hysterical when she told her the news, hysteria made worse when Ruth explained that the reason she knew first was because she and Hugh were married. Her mother was angry with her then, angry that she could do something so life changing without sharing it with her. But thought Ruth at the time anger is better than pity.

Hugh's father was much more stoic about the whole thing, he was old school and Ruth knew that although the man was crushed he would not express that devastation in public, that his anguish was not for public consumption. He thanked Ruth and asked her if he could tell his daughter the news and then calmly asked when his son would be coming home. Ruth found that she could draw great strength from the older man and that over the next few days they leant on each other. It was all very subtle, a passed handkerchief here, a cup of tea made there, a glance exchanged at times of ultimate stress. But it helped.

Just as Harry had said in the early morning of the third day after the news of his death was released the body of Lieutenant Colonel Hugh Logan came home to RAF Lyenham draped in the flag of the country he served and ultimately died for. Ruth watched as the soldiers assigned to take his coffin from the plane carefully and with such reverence it was almost painful to watch carried her Hugh to the waiting hearse. She was surrounded by her family, members of Hugh's family and colleagues from the hospital. She had hoped to see Harry but he had not appeared, had not been in touch since the morning she left his home. Had not even replied to the note of thanks she had scribbled for him. She had of course put all this down to some crisis at work and left it at that. She had more pressing matters to attend to.

What she didn't know was that Harry Pearce was standing not two hundred yards away from her, dressed in the uniform of a major in the British army, blending into the background, just observing. His natural instincts were to push to the front of the grieving crowd and gather his Ruth into his arms and tell her that he would make it all right, that he would take care of her but of course self control and self restraint forbade him from doing anything as foolish as that. No instead he just blended seamlessly into the background, observing and wondering at the quiet calm and serenity of this remarkable woman who he loved more than life itself.

As the cortège made the short journey from the RAF station to Wootton Bassett Ruth still felt as though she was playing a part, that none of this was in any way real and that soon she would wake up and share this nightmare with Hugh. If only someone would pinch her!

As Harry had predicted the streets of the town were lined with people wishing to pay homage to yet another British serviceman killed in the name of his country, the cortège slowed down to walking pace and onlookers darted out to place floral tributes on the hearse, sometimes a single rose, other times a spray of flowers. Ruth could see that the crowd was made up of all generations. There were old men who were members of the Royal British Legion, old warriors who had served their country come to pay homage to one of their own right down to school children perhaps learning a hard life lesson. And strangely for a small market town in the middle of rural England there was applause as they passed. Applause and tears, a strange and moving combination.

As the cortège reached the edge of the town the ushers jumped from the cars and carefully removed every floral tribute from the hearse and other cars placing them in a large box securing them safely in the boot of one of the following limousines. Everything was done with such respect that it took Ruth's breath away. Now they turned onto an A road and everything sped up and in just over an hour they were pulling into the grounds of the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford. Ruth knew that there would be a post-mortem before Hugh's body could be released for burial. Before he could be given back to those who loved him.

And then it would be time to say the final goodbye.