Sunday, August 19th , 1984 - 140 Gower Street

It's a quiet morning at work so far, for which Harry's very grateful as it will mean that he'll be free to take his scheduled afternoon off. He left the house before anyone else had woken up today. Ruth has the whole day off, so he didn't even need to give her a lift, and his kids are used to managing on their own when he has them to stay. His heart feels very heavy this morning, and deciding that a bit of fresh air would do him good, he grabs his jacket and makes his way to his favourite spot along the Thames.

Malcolm has been watching Harry carefully all morning, and he can see that something is not right. It's rare for Harry to display any emotion that isn't anger at work, but this morning he's been looking depressingly sad. So when he sees his friend pick up his jacket and go out, he grabs his own and follows. It's a testimony to how truly upset Harry is, that he doesn't spot Malcolm following him. He's usually very observant and can spot a tail better than anyone else on the team. After watching his friend lean against the wall and stare down at the water for fifteen minutes, Malcolm decides to risk his displeasure and approach him.

"Penny for them," he murmurs as he steps close to Harry.

"Hello, Malcolm," he replies quietly and looks up at his companion.

"You don't seem yourself today, Harry," Malcolm says after a moment. "Anything I can help with?"

Harry frowns and shakes his head.

"Is it Ruth?" he dares to ask.

Harry's expression freezes for a second, but that's the only sign of his surprise. "Ruth?" he asks quietly.

"Yes, Ruth," Malcolm replies in a light teasing tone. "You know... our new analyst, pretty girl with short, chestnut hair and blue-grey, sparkling eyes."

"What about her?" Harry smiles in spite of himself at the tone Malcolm has adopted.

"I get the impression that your 'brief encounter' with her is not as 'long forgotten' as you might want me to believe," he replies, still watching him carefully.

Harry turns to look at him, impressed by Malcolm's observation and analysis. All he can see, however, in his clear blue eyes is genuine friendship and concern. It occurs to Harry that Malcolm is the closest thing to a friend that he has in his life at the moment. Though they've never really spent any time together outside of work, they both value each other highly. Perhaps just this once, it would actually help him to talk to someone. Where to begin, however.

"I've never felt this way before, Malcolm," he says eventually, looking out over the water, "but I made a terrible mistake in not telling her who I was when I first met her. How can I expect her to believe me now? Especially since, I'm convinced, she's heard the rumours about my numerous affairs."

Malcolm is thoughtful for a few moments before he says, "The course of true love never did run smooth."

Harry nods, recognising the quote from 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', and a small smile appears on his lips. "You're a wise man, Malcolm," he murmurs.

"Does she return your feelings?" he asks.

"I don't know," Harry admits. "There is something, but whether it's love...?" he shrugs.

They stand side by side looking over the Thames, both deep in thought.

"What I don't understand, Harry," Malcolm murmurs after a bit, "is why you don't do something about it. I mean, I've never seen you hesitate before. Why don't you talk to her, pursue her, woo her? When it comes to women, you've got a golden tongue, my friend, something, I'll admit, I've often envied."

Harry's silent for a long time, struggling with his reluctance to open up to anyone. Several minutes later he whispers, "What do I have to offer her, Malcolm? I'm more than fifteen years her senior; I'm a failure as a father; I have chosen a career that is, at best, very inconvenient for relationships; I cannot offer her any of the things that she should have from her partner in life."

Malcolm is stunned not only by Harry's openness, but also by the insecurities that he's just betrayed. He always appears so confident that Malcolm's never realised that so much self-doubt was lying hidden below the surface.

"Such is my love, to thee I so belong,

That for thy right myself will bear all wrong," he quotes Shakespeare under his breath.

Harry turns to look at him, but Malcolm still appears lost in thought.

"You can't do this to yourself, Harry," he says eventually in a firm voice, turning to look Harry in the eye, "and you have no right to do that to Ruth either. She deserves the right to make her own choices about her life. As long as you are honest about what you have to offer her, she will be able to do that. She's not a child and you don't make a good martyr. In our line of work, age makes no difference as you well know. As to the other things that you mentioned, she's in a unique position to understand them. She's already chosen the life of a spy, so being with you, loving you, will not change that in any way."

They hold each other's gaze for a moment, and then Malcolm turns and walks back to work, leaving Harry to think over his words.


Ruth's sitting at the dinning room table with Graham, playing Monopoly. It's something she hasn't done in ages and she's enjoying herself. She and Graham are evenly matched, and so far, no one is winning. When she got up this morning, Harry has already left, something she was grateful for. Her plan for the day is to go house hunting, and she's already made appointments to see three flats this afternoon. For some reason that she doesn't want to explore right now, she feels that she should be at home with Graham and Catherine while Harry's at work this morning. Catherine, however, is still in bed, despite the fact that it's already nearing eleven.

When she'd got up, she'd had her shower and dressed before going downstairs. She'd looked in the kitchen cupboards and fridge to find out what there was to eat and discovered that there was very little. She'd found an old box of Coco-pops that she'd assumed was there from the last time his kids came to stay. After sniffing its contents, she'd decided that it was some time ago. She'd thrown it away and decided that she'd do some shopping for food this afternoon. It would be something she could do to repay Harry for his hospitality. She'd cleared out the cupboards, tossing out all the things that were past their best and making a list of what to buy to replace them. Then she'd turned her attention to the fridge. It was very clean and orderly, though rather low on content. She'd taken out some eggs and milk, and with the flour she'd found in the cupboard, which thankfully had not gone rancid yet, she'd made pancakes.

Just as the first one was ready, Graham had appeared downstairs in his pyjamas with his hair sticking up, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Good morning, Graham," she'd said. "I'm just making pancakes. Would you like some?"

"Of course," he'd smiled, suddenly wide awake.

"Get dressed then," she'd replied. "No eating in pyjamas. Ruth's rules."

He'd seemed surprised at that, but he'd run upstairs anyway coming back down in a couple of minutes with his hair still sticking up and his feet bare. She'd let him off the hook this time and watched as he'd devoured five pancakes in under three minutes.

"You'll give yourself indigestion if you eat that fast," she'd said.

"They're really good," he'd blushed and taken another one.

"You must be growing with an appetite like that," Ruth had smiled.

"Yes," he'd nodded proudly. "I grew an inch in the last month. Mum says, at this rate, I'll be taller than dad."

"I bet you'd like that," she'd winked.

"Yes," he'd beamed. Than he'd added, "Is he going to be home early today?"

"I think that he's planning on taking you somewhere special this afternoon," Ruth had replied.

"Really?" Graham had asked happily. "Where?"

"It's a surprise," she'd winked. He'd looked disappointed so she'd added, "but he told me what it is and I can promise that you'll love it."

Graham had continued to try to get her to reveal the secret, but of course, she hadn't. After they'd finished their breakfast, they'd sat down at the dinning room table and began playing Monopoly. It's turning out to be a very long game.

Graham yawns and says, "Can we take a break now, Ruth? I'm bored."

"All right," she smiles and they get up.

Graham goes back to his room and Ruth goes to make herself some tea in the kitchen. She's just pouring the hot water into her mug when Catherine walks into the kitchen. She freezes when she sees Ruth there, but Ruth doesn't give her time to feel awkward. "Good morning, Catherine," she smiles. "There are some pancakes in the oven if you'd like them. Would you like some tea?"

Catherine merely nods. She looks much more subdued this morning, and Ruth guesses that she's really rather embarrassed by and sorry for her outburst yesterday. Ruth takes out the pancakes and puts them on the table, turning off the oven as she does so. Then she takes down another mug and puts a tea bag and hot water in it. She places it on the table next to the pancakes and leaves the room with a smile. She doesn't want Catherine to feel mothered by her attentions. She knows that it would give the wrong impression about her role in Harry's house.

Going into the sitting room, Ruth resumes her reading of Homer though recollections of last night's events affect her enjoyment of it. She has to move out of his house soon for the sake of her heart. The longer she stays here, the harder it's going to be to leave, especially now that his kids are here. She loves kids, especially pre-teens like Graham. She's never liked babies and toddlers very much, but nine, ten, and eleven year-olds she loves to be with. When she was fifteen, she'd seriously considered becoming a primary school teacher.


They have lunch outside in the garden. Ruth makes a salad and sandwiches with the cheese and bread she finds. Catherine sits outside with them, and they eat in silence. Graham finishes first, and getting up, goes back inside to look for a ball to kick around. The back fence of the garden is tall and solid, and someone, presumably Harry, has painted a goal on it.

"Are you dating my dad?" Catherine asks suddenly, while Graham's inside the house.

"No," Ruth replies. "He was just nice enough to offer me his guest room when the hotel I was staying at turned out to be somewhat dangerous. I just started work this week, you see, and haven't had a chance to find a flat yet."

Catherine nods and then after a moment murmurs, "I'm sorry about what I said yesterday."

"It's all right. We all say things we don't mean when we're angry," Ruth smiles.

"I was very angry," Catherine admits. "Dad promised he'd pick us up at five and he didn't... as usual. Mum was furious that she had to drive us here, and then she left us to catch her train, and Dad was still not back. He never does what he says he will."

Ruth merely nods her understanding. She knows Catherine's just venting.

Graham comes back out just then, carrying a football, and says, "Will you play, Catherine? Ruth?"

"I'm no good at sport," Ruth replies.

"It doesn't matter," Graham says. "Come on. You can be on my team and we'll play against Catherine. She's really good."

Ruth glances at Catherine and sees her smile lovingly at her sibling. "All right," Catherine says, and getting up, grabs the ball from him.


Harry walks into the house. It's unusually quiet. He listens intently with apprehension, and all his senses are suddenly on high alert. Slowly her makes his way to the sitting room, then through to the dinning room, his heart beating fast. As he passes the window, he hears laughter coming from outside. He draws the curtains back carefully and relief washes over him as he spots his children and Ruth safely playing football in the garden. As he watches, the relief he feels is replaced by joy, and then a strong ache grips his heart and leaves him breathless. He watches his daughter dribble the ball past Ruth and Graham and take a shot on goal. She scores easily, and he's amazed at how good she's become. He knows that she's on her school's team, but it's probably been two years since he's been to one of her matches. Guilt makes his gut clench and he sighs. He hardly recognises his daughter now; no wonder she's so distant. As he watches, Graham manages to get the ball past Catherine and pass it to Ruth. She seems at a loss as to what to do with it and it makes Harry smile. Then she kicks out at it, and by luck rather than skill, manages to get it in the goal.

"Goaaaal!" Graham shouts and runs up to Ruth, giving her a big hug and making her laugh.

Catherine smiles at his enthusiasm and ruffles his hair. She's a good head and a half taller then her brother, but he's catching up fast. Harry lets the scene before him sooth his aching heart. Even though he was busy a lot of the time when his children were little and he was still married, these were the types of moments he enjoyed the most and the ones he misses terribly now. Sighing heavily, he steps back from the window and makes his way round to the back door. He opens it and walks out into the garden. Catherine spots him first, and he watches as her smile vanishes at the sight of him. Saddened by her reaction, he approaches the group and says, "Hello, Katie."

"My name is Catherine," she declares and stalks off towards the house.

Harry sighs and grits his teeth in resignation and more than a little irritation.

"Hi, Dad," Graham says looking up at him uncertainly.

"Hello, Graham," Harry smiles down at him and ruffles his hair, forcing himself to put Catherine's behaviour out of his mind for the time being. Then he turns to Ruth and says, "Hello, Ruth."

"Hi," she smiles though her eyes seem troubled momentarily, making him wonder if he's the source of her unease. How the hell did he manage to get to a point where the two most important females in his life are unhappy to see him, he wonders.

"Dad," Graham interrupts, "Ruth said that you're going to take me somewhere special today, but she wouldn't tell me where. Are you really?"

"Yes," Harry smiles down at the only member of his family who is apparently happy to see him. "We should go right away. Why don't you go get ready and ask your sister if she'd like to come?"

"Okay," he grins and runs inside.

Ruth picks up the ball and together, she and Harry, follow Graham in silence.

"Would you mind taking that tray?" Ruth asks as they approach the patio.

"Not at all," Harry smiles. "Thank you for taking care of them for me this morning. You didn't need to do that, but I appreciate it very much."

"It's the least I could do," she murmurs. "Anyway, I enjoyed it. They're good kids."

"I saw you playing football," he smiles as they walk into the kitchen.

"Oh, God, You didn't!" she exclaims. "How embarrassing. If I hear rumours about my terrible football skills at work, you're going to be in big trouble, Harry Pearce," she glares at him.

"Don't tempt me," he grins mischievously.

"You wouldn't dare," she says, trying to frown at him but failing miserably as a smile threatens to escape her.

"Wouldn't I now?" he murmurs as his voice takes on a lower tone. "Be careful, Ruth, or I might take that as a challenge."

"No, you won't," Ruth replies with a smile, trying to ignore the way her heart is beating faster and her palms are starting to sweat.

"I won't?" he asks, surprised by her confidence and taking a step towards her.

"Not if you don't want me to reveal some of your, shall we say, less flattering secrets," she smiles triumphantly.

"Such as?" he inquires, enjoying their banter too much to stop even though he can see that they're heading for troubled waters.

"That information is classified," she replies. "After all, I did know you quite intimately once upon a time." She looks away frowning and adds to herself in a whisper, "Or I thought I did anyway."

He watches her face as it clouds over and the moment between them is lost. "I could never forget, Ruth," he says quietly before he turns away. At the door, he turns to face her and adds, "And, for the record, you did know me. The real me, not some carefully constructed illusion as you seem to think." Much as he would like to continue this conversation now and get everything out in the open, he knows that Graham, and possibly, Catherine will be downstairs at any moment now, and he doesn't want them to overhear anything. So he turns around and walks upstairs quickly to change his shirt before taking Graham, and hopefully, Catherine to the museum.

Ruth spends several moment in the kitchen deep in thought. Hope flares in her heart at his words, but she doesn't let her mind trust them. He's really good at his job, she tells herself firmly. Taking on a different persona is what he does all the time and he excels at it. What else could he have said under the circumstances? Well, he could have pretended not to hear, her heart whispers, and besides he didn't say it in a way that she would have expected if he was trying to seduce her. He sounded tired and disappointed, not charming and persuasive. She doesn't know what to think. Ruth rubs her eyes wearily and glances at her watch. This analysis will have to wait; it's time to get ready to see those flats.


She comes home laden with shopping bags. Harry had insisted that she take a key when she'd left because he wasn't sure that he'd be home when she got back. She unlocks the door and goes through to the kitchen where she finds Catherine making herself some tea.

"Hello," Ruth smiles and dumps the bags on the floor by the fridge.

"Hi," Catherine replies. "Do you want some tea? I was just making some."

"Yes, please," she answers and goes back to the front door to get more shopping.

She carries these back to the kitchen where Catherine's already putting things away in the fridge. Ruth is impressed, but then she remembers that Catherine's probably used to helping her mother.

One more trip to the front door and several minutes later, Ruth and Catherine sit at the kitchen table drinking tea and eating dark chocolate, digestive biscuits.

"Thanks for you help with putting things away," Ruth says.

"I do it for Mum all the time," she replies. "Thanks for buying some food. There's nothing in the house as usual."

"You're quite hard on your dad, you know," Ruth says quietly.

"Yes," Catherine bristles. "Well, maybe he deserves it. It's his fault my parents split up in the first place. If he'd kept his dick in his pants, we would still be a family."

Ruth nods, surprised that Catherine is so informed on the subject. But then she realises that she's hardly a child any longer, and she's probably overheard some comments that her mother has made and put two and two together. When Ruth had found out about Harry's affairs, she'd gone back to his file to see when he'd divorced Jane, sick to her stomach that she might have been one of them. Much to her relief, she'd discovered that he'd been divorced just over a year before they'd met.

"Have you talked to him about it?" she asks.

"No!" Catherine exclaims. "Why would I do that? Besides, he'd never listen to me."

"You're almost grown up now, Catherine," she encourages quietly. "I think he would listen to you. Especially, if you conducted yourself like a calm, collected, young lady."

Catherine is silent, thinking about Ruth's words. They hear the door open and Graham's excited voice in the hall calling to both of them.

"We're in the kitchen, Graham," Ruth calls and gets up.

Graham darts into the room quickly, and taking a seat at the table, he launches into a lengthy description of everything he saw at the museum. Catherine and Ruth listen, smiling at his enthusiasm. Harry walks into the room silently and a little apprehensively, unsure of how Catherine will react to his presence this time. His daughter is as stubborn as he is and can keep a grudge for weeks, or perhaps years in his case. As he approaches the table, Catherine glances at him but doesn't get up, which he takes as a good sign. He takes a seat next to her, but she has her back turned toward him and is facing her brother. Ruth smiles at him, and touching her mug with her hand and then pointing at him, she raises her eyebrows in question. He nods, understanding her to be offering him some tea.

When there is a pause in Graham's excited monologue, Ruth says, "It sounds like you had a lovely time and the exhibit sounds fantastic. Would you like some hot cocoa?"

"Yes, please," Graham exclaims, grabbing a chocolate biscuit and munching on it loudly.

"Would you like some, Catherine?" Ruth asks.

"No, thank you," she replies, and getting up, leaves the room.

Harry watches her go sadly, and then turning to Ruth, says, "Could I have some too, please?"

Ruth smiles and proceeds to make the cocoa. She puts the two mugs on the table and asks with a frown, "How many biscuits have you had, Graham?"

Graham looks suitably ashamed and murmurs, "Five. Sorry, Mum." Then realising his mistake adds, "I mean, Ruth."

"If you're that hungry, get yourself something healthy to eat. How about some carrots?" Ruth continues, ignoring his slip of the tongue even though it causes a warmth to spread across her heart.

"Don't like carrots," Graham replies making a face.

"Carrots?" Harry asks.

"I did some shopping," Ruth explains. "Would you like some carrots, Harry?" she teases.

"I'd love some," he grins, "but I think I can manage to get them myself, thank you."

"Do we have celery?" Graham asks.

"Yes, we do," Ruth replies, "Do you like it?"

"I love celery," he grins.

"So do I," Ruth says. "I probably should have bought more then, judging by your appetite."

Graham smiles and gets up to get his celery. He takes it to the sink and washes it quickly before carrying it to the table while it drips all over the floor.

"Here," Harry says to him, handing him a plate. "Use the plate."

"Sorry, Dad," he says sheepishly and then turning to Ruth whispers, "It drives him crazy when we're messy."

Ruth laughs and replies, "I would have guessed as much judging by the neatness all around us."

"What are we having for dinner?" Graham asks as he munches on the celery.

"Still hungry?" Harry laughs.

"Of course," Graham grins.

"I know, Son," he smiles. "When I was your age, your grandma used to complain that I never stopped eating. By the time I was your sister's age, I had to learn to cook because she refused to cook more than one meal a day." Graham laughs and Ruth's intrigued by this glimpse into his childhood.

In the end, Harry and Graham end up cooking the chicken Ruth's bought, together. Ruth leaves them to it and goes upstairs to shower and change. She comes back down to find the chicken in the oven and Catherine in the sitting room.

"Hello," she says and takes a seat by her on the sofa.

"Hi," Catherine replies, looking up from her book.

"What are you reading?" Ruth asks.

"The Lord of the Rings," she replies.

"I love that book," Ruth smiles. "The descriptions are written in so much detail that it makes you feel like you're actually there."

"I find them a little long winded," Catherine confesses. "I'm sometimes temped to skip them and move to the action."

"Who's your favourite character?" Ruth asks.

"Aragorn," she says without hesitation. "He's brave, just, and a good leader."

"Yes," Ruth replies, "he is, though my favourite has always been Frodo. He's not dashing like Aragorn, who is born into his role as king. He chooses to take on the task of destroying the ring in order to save his beloved Shire, taking on the hardest task of all, and then he has to deal with betrayal and danger all along the way. He's compassionate, brave, strong and persistent, and I admire him even though at the end he almost fails. In fact, that is what I like most about him. That he resists the temptation of the ring for so long, much longer than all the others. The fact that he gives in at the end, just makes him human, or hobbit-like rather." Catherine laughs and Ruth adds, "and in the end, he's so changed by his journey to protect his country that he no longer fits in there and he has to leave everything he loves behind."

They're both silent for a few moments and then Ruth murmurs, "You know, I've never thought about this before, but I think your father is very much like Frodo in many ways." Catherine looks at her questioningly and she continues, "He's had to give up a lot to protect his beloved country from the forces of evil, depriving himself of a normal life with the result that he no longer fits into it any more. He's brave, compassionate, stubborn, and strong, and even though he has many failings, they just make him human."

Harry feels tears spring to his eyes as he hears Ruth describe him thus. He's standing on the stairs listening intently. He didn't mean to be eavesdropping. He was just making his way to the kitchen to check on the food when he'd heard Catherine's laughter, something he hasn't heard in ages. He'd paused to listen to it, a smile creeping across his face, and ended up hearing the rest. He wipes the tears from his cheeks roughly, but he finds himself unable to move as Ruth speaks again.

"I know it's not my place to say anything," she murmurs, "but I feel I need to because I know what it's like to lose one's father." Her voice is shaky as she continues, "My dad died when I was eleven, just like Graham. I was very close to him and his death was very hard for me. When he died, I wanted to talk about him, the things we used to do together, the things he taught me, and I tried to do that with my mother. She couldn't cope with it, and three months later, she sent me off to boarding school in France. I thought that she didn't love me and was trying to get rid of me. It was the hardest time in my life, and I was lonely and heartbroken.

"I know now that I was mistaken. My mother does love me very much and she loved my father too; it's just that she had a different way of grieving to mine. Talking about my father was too painful for her, and so she couldn't cope with me doing so everyday. I think she hoped that sending me to boarding school would help both of us. She didn't recognise that I was more like my father, wishing to remain immersed in the memories of the times we'd shared. My mother just sold our house and moved away, starting her life over again.

"What I'm trying to say is that people are different, but that doesn't mean that they don't have the same depth of feeling that we do. I'm sure your father loves you and your brother very much, but you will never know that if you don't give him a chance to show you in whatever way he can. He doesn't have a normal office job, so it's unrealistic to expect him to be there for you every day. Just let him be there for you when he can. Like today. You heard how much fun Graham had at the museum, and even though it might not be your scene, you could have got something out of it too if you'd gone with them. You're denying yourself the happiness of being with your father and then blaming him for it."

Catherine is silent for a moment and then says seriously, "You said you're not sleeping with him, but I'm not sure I believe you any more."

She tries to get up but Ruth puts a hand on her arm, stilling her motion, before saying, "I'm not, but I won't lie to you and tell you that I don't have feelings for him. However, at present we are just colleagues and the reason I'm here is the one I told you earlier. Never the less, please think about what I said. I'm not saying you should forgive him. All I'm saying is that you should talk to him before it's too late. You're old enough to know that his job is very dangerous and that it's very possible that one day he won't come home. Others have given up their lives to protect us all and sadly many more will in the future. I hope that your father is not one of them, but we can never be sure."

Catherine rises from the sofa and walks towards the door. In the doorway, she turns and says, "I'll think about it," indicating by her words that she's not angry at Ruth.

Harry hears her and realises that she's coming out, so he swiftly moves up a few steps before turning and coming down them again. Catherine passes him on the stairs and he smiles at her. She ignores him, but gives no indication that she believes that he's overheard her conversation. At the bottom of the stairs, Harry turns toward the kitchen and checks on the food. Then he takes out a couple of glasses, and opening a bottle of wine, he pours some in each glass and carries them to the sitting room.

He pauses in the doorway and looks at Ruth. She has her head in her hands and is staring at the floor, deep in thought. He lets the glasses clink together to alert her to his presence before walking into the room and stopping in front of her.

"I thought you might like a glass," he smiles. "The food will be ready in about ten minutes."

"Thank you," she replies and takes the glass from his hand.

He takes a seat in the arm chair near the sofa, reluctant to sit next to her lest he bring back memories of last night. "Cheers," he says and raises his glass.

"Cheers," she responds and takes a sip.

"The museum exhibit was just a good as you described," Harry continues. "I think I enjoyed it almost as much as Graham."

"I'm glad," she smiles, but she still seems distant.

"You okay?" he asks with concern.

"Yes," she replies. "I'm fine. Maybe a little tired. I went flat hunting while you were out. I found a place, not far from here actually, but the present tenant won't leave until Saturday, so I can't move in until next week."

"You're welcome to stay here until then," he says immediately. "We would all love it if you did. Graham's already looking forward to a new bedtime story."

Ruth smiles and murmurs, "Thank you. I'll think about it. I'll stay tonight, if that's okay. I don't think I have the energy to move."

"Whatever makes you comfortable is fine with me," he smiles.

They sit in silence sipping their wine each lost in their thoughts. Harry gets up in a little while to turn the food off, and after making a salad, he cuts the fresh, French bread that Ruth bought. "Dinner's ready," he calls up the stairs and there's an immediate response. Graham comes bounding down the stairs, followed by Catherine in a more sedate manner.

When Ruth walks into the dinning room a couple of minutes later, she's amazed to find a beautifully laid table with a delicious looking meal on it. The children are already sitting down, but as soon as she enters the room, Graham jumps up and pulls out a chair for her. She smiles at him and takes the seat carefully, letting him push her in. "Thank you, Graham," she says.

"My pleasure," he smiles with a blush.

Ruth's sure the boy's developing a crush on her, which she knows is normal for his age though a little awkward in the present situation. Harry's amused by his son's attention to Ruth and a little proud of him. Catherine's a little bothered by it. Not only is her father infatuated with this woman, now her brother is too. She feels a little betrayed, especially since she can understand why they like Ruth. She's kind and unassuming, just fitting into their world without trying to take it over. It's quite refreshing really, especially now that her mother's dating that bloke, Simon, who's trying so hard to fit in that he makes things unbearably awkward and tense. Why couldn't her parents just stay together? Even the fighting was preferable to this feeling of being ripped in half.

Dinner is lovely and the conversation flows reasonably easily. Catherine's less hostile than before and actually addresses her father briefly in a normal tone of voice. After dinner, they play a game of Cluedo, which Ruth used to play with her parents before her father died. Ruth wins all three rounds, much to the frustration of the rest. By the time Ruth's finished telling Graham his bedtime story, she's exhausted, and deciding to give herself an early night, she goes to bed straight away. In any case, she doesn't particularly want to have another tête-à-tête with Harry tonight.

Harry stays up for a little while reading before also turning in earlier than usual. He isn't surprised that Ruth's avoiding him in the evening after his performance last night, but he can't help but be a little disappointed. Still he's happy that she can't move into her new accommodation until next week, and he hopes that the pull of his children will convince her to stay here with them in the mean time. He has to admit that he's never enjoyed having them to stay so much before. Somehow Ruth's presence diffuses the tension between him and them, making it easier to enjoy being together. God, what wouldn't he give to have her move in with him permanently...