'I'm assuming that Harry's gone,?' Malcolm said rather obviously, when Ruth opened the door and invited him in, looking tired and terribly lost.
'Work calls,' was all she could manage, turning away from him and heading towards the kitchen.
The look of disappointment on Harry's face when he'd driven away, had almost made her chase after him. But that would have meant her backtracking from what she knew was a firm decision. Love wasn't the issue and she would stay with Harry unconditionally, but that meant him accepting that she wouldn't go back to to the grid, under any circumstances. Those days were over.
'I need space Malcolm, if that makes sense. Not where Harry's concerned,' she added, turning the kettle on as though she was on autopilot.
Not perfect, but then when was it ever where they were concerned? He was much more invested in seeing them make a go of it than he had been years ago when he'd put his foot in it, but he'd meant what he'd said. They did make a lovely couple and he hadn't changed his mind.
'I'm in no rush, my train's not until tomorrow morning, if you'd like me to stay?' he lied, discarding the prospect of a gourmet meal on the midnight train to Inverness, in order to keep her company.
Of all the staff that had come and gone, well apart from Colin, Malcolm had always considered Ruth to be the most like him. The worker bees, that had given the others the the tools to carry out whatever they'd needed to do, but without reaping the consequences. That was until Colin had been killed and Ruth had been exiled. Both of which had wrought havoc on the grid, but brought them closer together as a team.
He was the lucky one who had walked away unscathed. He no longer worked for five and what had he told Harry? He was dog tired. How true that was. That's how Ruth looked now and he could understand her need for change and for some time to plan a new life. She was bright, probably brighter then any of them when it came to sorting out a puzzle, which in this case made Harry the most important piece. During the years since she'd been away, there had been so many never to be forgotten incidents when Harry had been on the brink. Davy King and Harry's total disregard for his own life, Connie's attempt to set him up as a traitor when poor Ben had been needlessly killed, and then Mani and the beating that he'd given Harry, which if he and Ruth had slept together, which with a quick glance into the bedroom on his way to use the bathroom suggested they had, she'd have seen with her own eyes. There was only so much time before Harry wouldn't be so lucky and this surely must be playing on Ruth's mind.
'How about we go for a run in the car this morning and I'll treat you to lunch somewhere? Come on Ruth it will do us both good,' he suggested.
Malcolm liked Eastbourne at whatever time of year. Once dubbed to be the seaside resort where every other resident was over sixty was a myth, or at least he liked to believe so. When he'd been a boy and his dad had been alive, they'd always had their annual holiday during cricket week. It had been in the days when Botham and Richards had wielded the willow for Somerset and he'd spent many a Sunday afternoon enjoying the inception of the limited over variety. Not at a fancy ground which held thousands, but a ground where the spectators formed the boundary with their hundreds of deckchairs and picnic lunches. Something that Harry and he always talked about in the build up to the new season. Maybe if Harry retired, a word that amounted to blasphemy in Harry's eyes, they'd be able to recapture those times?
'One of my favourite views,' he told Ruth, driving past the spot where Harry had taken her the previous day, then realising he was stating the obvious.
The sparkle in her eyes that always made them grow wider had all but died, which was heartbreaking, given how they changed when Harry looked at her and she at him. It was obvious that Harry hadn't told her that the cottage was hers, or the incident that he was duty bound to take with him to his grave. Knowing Harry and his unwavering 'one thing at a time' nature, he was probably thinking he had plenty of time. This lull in terrorist threats that had seen so many of their colleagues dying wouldn't last, and god help Ruth and her sanity if anything happened to Harry. Could he or should he interfere? Was it better to suggest to her that she went back to the grid or not, was the question that he couldn't ask her? He could plant the seed, but both she and Harry had to find their own way. It was time he took the direct route which would mean pushing her. Not in his nature, but as this might be his last chance to indulge himself by spending some time with Ruth, he needed to try. Besides which they'd arrived at the restaurant.
'I know why you've made this decision Ruth and it was cruel that Jo died on your first day back. But she wouldn't have wanted you to dwell on it, any more than any of us did, and it certainly shouldn't hamper the progress you're making with Harry.'
'What do you mean?'
'Harry does love you,' was straight to the point. That the unstoppable force that was Grace had got in first, he hadn't known, but he needed to hang on to the initiative before he lost his nerve.
'I'm betting you haven't told him either?'
Told him what?' was Ruth at her defensive best. But they weren't on the grid now and he was struggling not to smile.
'Ruth?'
'Not yet.' And he did.
'But you do love him?' she left hanging. Surely it was obvious that she did and thank heavens that their drinks had arrived, because as sweet as Malcolm was, she really didn't want to be pushed into crying in public.
Malcolm wasn't an idiot and he certainly wasn't going to labour the point by revisiting the day that she'd come back, when she'd talked about being woken from a scary nightmare and ruined fish. But the one and only question that she'd asked and his motivation for having this conversation, had been how is he Malcolm? Not how's Harry. Assuming quite rightly that he'd always known how they'd felt about each other and still did. Naiive he might be, but he knew that Harry would never take advantage of Ruth, so a bed that looked as though a mob of children had been jumping on it on Christmas morning, meant a lot more than just sex.
'Harry wanted to tell me that he loved me on the day that I left, but I stopped him,' came from the courage that the drink had given her and after a deep breath, as for the first time that day, she looked straight at him.' I know that you're worried about us Malcolm, but you don't need to be, we'll get there I promise you.'
At the same time, Harry was sitting in the meeting room with Ros and Lucas, knowing that at least for one day, Ruth wouldn't be on her own. Malcolm was going to invite her out for lunch and offer to stay over. Something that he should have done after the previous night, rather than leaving her on her own at the crack of dawn.
Ros clearing her throat wasn't very subtle, but it got his attention.
'I'm assuming that nothing major has happened since I've been away?' he asked them, completely failing in his attempt to look as though he'd been thinking about work related issues, rather than the previous night with Ruth. 'I trust you're still building a relationship with Sarah Caulfield?' he asked Lucas. A deflection maybe, but subject that was of concern.
He and Ros had already had a conversation about Lucas's obvious involvement with the CIA, that was going way beyond the bounds of professional, and was causing him to be absent from the grid more often than not. Something that was now causing Harry to consider his own commitment to Ruth and what he needed to do to make it work. It was clear that you couldn't have both, not unless you were prepared to compromise, which he wasn't. Certainly not where she was concerned. He'd not wanted to leave her anymore than she'd wanted him to go. His promise not to do anything reckless, as crazy as her knowing that it was a promise that he might not be able to keep. Depending on the traffic, two hours on a bad day from Sussex to London, and an hour and a half at best, was an impossible ask. Endless nights when he'd be in London and she'd be on her own, could cause irreparable damage to their relationship. Not to mention the loneliness and the longing that had been swept away over the course of one glorious night. Something that he couldn't survive without. Not anymore.