Saturday, August 25th, 1984 - Harry's House
"Morning," Catherine greets as she enters the kitchen.
"Good morning," Harry replies from his seat at the table.
"Where's Ruth?" she asks.
"She left a note to say she's gone shopping," he shrugs. "Have some breakfast."
"No, thank you," she replies.
"Come on," he encourages quietly. "Look, it's all ready for you at the table."
Catherine glances at her spot, and sure enough, there's a banana and a sliced mango waiting for her. "Did you do that?" she asks in surprise.
"Of course," he replies seriously.
Catherine studies him for a moment and then says, "No. You can't fool me. It was Ruth."
"No, really," Harry insists in a quiet voice and his face takes on a wounded look.
Catherine relents and murmurs, "I'm sorry, Dad. Thank you. It was very thoughtful of you."
"My pleasure," he smiles.
Catherine sits down next to him and begins to eat her mango, looking at him apologetically every so often. "It's really good," she smiles and eats it all up.
When she's finished, Harry murmurs, "Actually, it was Ruth. She got it ready for you earlier."
Catherine stares at him for a moment as an annoying smirk spreads across his face. "You... you.." she stammers in indignation, and getting up suddenly, she launches herself at him, almost knocking him to the ground.
"Katie!" he exclaims, her attack taking him completely by surprise.
"You are a no good... lying... deceitful," she pants as she worms her fingers into his sides pinching him repeatedly.
"Oww!" Harry says and tries to grasp her rapidly moving hands.
She fights valiantly, but she's no match for Harry now that he's recovered from his surprise, and he soon has her on his lap with her back towards him, pinned to his chest and unable to move.
"Did I miss something?" Ruth asks from the doorway.
"Let go!" Catherine exclaims.
"I wish I had a camera," Ruth smiles. "What happened?"
"Catherine attacked me," Harry replies in a rather surprised and wounded tone.
"Yes, well, that was because you tricked me," she says stubbornly.
"Well, it worked," he answers back. "You actually ate the mango today and you enjoyed it."
"I would have eaten it anyway," she replies with a huff.
"No, you-" Harry says quickly, but he's interrupted by Ruth.
"Now, now, children," she says seriously. "No more arguing, or I'll have to send you to your rooms."
"But she pinched me!" Harry complains.
"Awww," Ruth murmurs in mock concern. "Would you like me to kiss it better?"
"Yes, please," he grins suddenly, and releasing Catherine, he pushes her off his lap onto her chair.
Ruth raises her eyebrows at him and then says, "I see what you mean, Catherine. Give him a pinch from me too next time."
Catherine laughs and makes a move towards Harry, but he lifts a hand in warning to let her know that he's ready for her this time.
"Now," Ruth continues, "would one of you please help me put the shopping away?"
"I'll do it," Catherine says jumping up from the table and setting to work.
"Are there any more bags outside?" Harry asks as he gets up too.
"A few, yes," Ruth smiles.
"I'll get them," he offers, and winking at her, he makes his way to the front door.
"Good morning, Sleepyhead," Ruth says as Graham walks into the kitchen.
He's washed and dressed, which is a great improvement on the state he was in for breakfast at the beginning of the week. "Good morning, Ruth," he smiles, "Morning, Dad, Catherine."
"Morning, Son," Harry says.
"Hi," Catherine replies. "Want some strawberries?"
"Strawberries?" he asks in surprise. "You bet!"
"Ruth went shopping," Catherine explains as she cuts up the last of the strawberries and divides them into four bowls. "These look delicious, Ruth."
She carries them to the table, where Harry's drinking his second cup of coffee and Graham's helping himself to his first bowl of cereal. Ruth is sipping her tea and munching on a slice of toast with Marmite.
"I know what we need!" Catherine exclaims suddenly, and walking over to the fridge, she rummages around at the back. "Aha!" she says triumphantly and holds out a pot of whipped cream. "This will be perfect with them."
She carries it to the table, grabbing a spoon from the cutlery drawer on her way, and opens it up, sniffing it to make sure it's still edible. Then she dishes out the cream.
"You know, Dad," she says suddenly, "I have to ask; I've been wondering this for ages. Why do you always have a pot of whipped cream in the fridge?" Harry's spoon pauses on its way to his mouth, but Catherine doesn't notice and continues, "I mean, sometimes you have absolutely nothing else to eat, but you always have cream though I've never seen you eat it. In fact, I bet you just throw out the pot when it expires and buy a new one. What's the point?"
They all turn to look at him now, but he stares at his coffee. It's Harry's body language, more than anything else, that convinces Ruth that she's the reason he always has whipped cream in the house. Since that night on the yacht, whipped cream has always reminded her of Harry, so it stands to reason that it would be true for him too. But to be keeping his fridge stocked with it for more than three years, indicates that he never lost hope that he would see her again, and if that's the case, Harry is a very sentimental man and this is the most romantic gesture anyone's ever made for her. It finally sinks in that Harry is very deeply in love with her, and she feels all her doubts about his ability to stay faithful to her instantly vanish.
Harry realises that they're expecting an answer, so he clears his throat and murmurs, "It's for special occasions."
"Like what? Christmas?" Catherine teases. "Most people buy things just before the occasion, Dad. They don't keep supplies all year round!"
"You never know when one might arise," he replies and risks a glance at Ruth.
Her eyes are sparkling at him, and he can tell that she's trying to suppress a grin that is threatening to escape. He looks away hurriedly as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks.
"Like today," Graham pipes up, distracting Catherine just in time before she notices his blush.
Ruth's eyes, however, don't miss a thing. He looks adorable, and pushing her napkin off her lap, she bends down to pick it up, and reaching under the table, squeezes his knee. Harry's eye snap to hers and she winks at him before turning back to follow the conversation.
"What's special about today?" Catherine asks.
"We're having strawberries with cream for breakfast at Dad's house," Graham replies. "When's the last time you had anything so yummy here?"
"Fair point," Catherine concedes with a smile.
"All the best desserts have whipped cream on them," Ruth grins.
Harry's about to take a sip of coffee. He pauses with the mug on its way to his mouth and looks at her. There is a mischievous glint in her eyes and something else that he can't put his finger on. He's now certain that Ruth knows exactly why he has a pot of whipped cream in his fridge.
"And chocolate sprinkles," Graham adds.
Ruth raises her eyebrows and says, "Chocolate sprinkles? That sounds good. What do you think, Harry?"
There is no mistaking the challenge in her eyes this time. His pride won't let him back down from a challenge, so schooling his face into a suitably neutral expression, he replies, "Chocolate sprinkles have potential."
"And nuts," Graham continues after a moment.
"Oh, my favourite dessert definitely has nuts," Ruth replies with a smile.
The corners of Harry's mouth twitch and he takes a sip of his coffee to hide behind his mug.
"And a banana," Ruth adds after a moment.
Harry spits out his coffee back into his mug and lowers it carefully to the table. Images of Ruth's tongue licking the whipped cream off him start to swim to the front of his mind and he struggles to push them away.
"You okay, Dad?" Catherine asks.
"Sorry, yes," he murmurs, surprised that his voice is level. "Coffee's gone cold."
Catherine eyes him suspiciously. She has a feeling she's missing something.
"What's your favourite dessert then?" Graham asks Ruth.
"Banana Split," Catherine guesses.
"Mmmmm," Ruth murmurs. "Ice cream is the best. Don't you love the way cold ice cream feels against your tongue?"
That last image is too much for Harry, and placing his elbows on the table, he puts his head in his hands. Oh, dear God! He can't even get up from the table now. He should have known better than to participate in this banter when he's deprived himself of sex for so long. Ruth glances at him and she can tell that she's finally got to him.
Catherine's really suspicious by now, but she can't work out what's going on. She frowns in concentration and says, "Dad?"
"Mmmm?" he murmurs.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he replies. "I think I have the beginning of a headache. I'll be fine."
"What are we doing today?" Graham asks, completely oblivious to the undercurrents of emotion around him.
"I have to go to work after lunch," Ruth says, drawing the children's attention away from their father. "When do you need to go home?"
"I don't know," Catherine replies. "Mum said she'd call to let us know which train she's catching. Perhaps it would be a good idea to call her to find out."
"Okay," Ruth nods. "Why don't you go and do it now?"
Catherine gets up and begins to clear the dishes when Ruth stops her.
"Graham will help me do that," she says. She's noticed that he doesn't help around the house nearly as much as his sister, which is quite understandable since she's three years older than him, but not acceptable in Ruth's book. He needs to start pulling his weight a bit more.
"Okay," Graham says and begins carrying the dirty dishes to the sink. A few moments later, he darts from the room calling out that he has to use the bathroom.
Ruth leans over towards Harry, who still has his head in his hands, and murmurs, "Poor Love. Would you like me to kiss it better for you?"
He inhales sharply and makes a strangled noise in his throat. "You're a terrible tease, Miss Evershed," he growls in an low, quivering voice.
Ruth smiles and murmurs, "I could always rub it better instead," and reaching under the table, she runs her hand along the inside of his thigh toward the bulge in his trousers. This time Harry groans and grits his teeth, but all his efforts are in vein as her hand approaches its destination. His hands ball into fists, his head slips down between his arms towards his chest, and he moans her name as he ejaculates.
Ruth is somewhat surprised by this turn of events. She hadn't realised that he was so close to the edge. She continues to caress his thigh, however, and waits for his breathing to slow down. After a moment, he slowly lifts his head and looks at her, afraid of what he might see in her face. He's ashamed of his lack of control, but all he sees in her eyes is love. He looks away quickly and she murmurs, "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you were so close, or I would have stopped." He still doesn't look at her so she whispers, "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Harry. I love you."
His head snaps up and his eyes find hers. It's the first time she's said those words to him. He reaches for her and pulls her into his arms, kissing her tenderly, before releasing her quickly. Even though his kids really like Ruth, he knows that the day before they leave is not the best time to announce the change in his relationship with her.
"It's okay," he murmurs. "It's just been so long."
She smiles at him and asks, "How long?"
"Three years, one month, ten days and a few hours," he replies seriously.
Her smile widens even further and she kisses his cheek. They hear a noise out in the hall and Ruth quickly gets up, and taking off her jumper, she hands it to Harry and says, "Please take this upstairs for me, Harry."
Catherine enters the room and declares, "Mum said she'll be home at five. She said to call her if she needs to pick us up, otherwise she'll expect us at home by six."
"All right, Catherine," Harry replies getting up from the table slowly. "We'll set off from here at five."
"Let's go to the park this morning," Ruth suggests brightly. "We could take a picnic lunch and I could just walk to work from there."
"Okay," Catherine smiles.
"Good. That's settled then," Ruth replies. "Now, where did your brother get to?"
"I'll find him," Harry offers and exits the room with Ruth's jumper strategically held in front of him.
Ruth begins to run the water for the dishes and Catherine begins to make the sandwiches. Graham enters the kitchen quietly a few moments later, looking a little apprehensive.
"Sorry, Ruth," Graham murmurs sheepishly as he approaches her. "I forgot."
"Do you want to wash or dry?" Ruth smiles.
"I'll wash," Graham replies, pleased that he got off so lightly.
They have a lovely time in Kensington Gardens. They walk around, admiring their beautiful surroundings, play a little football, and have their picnic on the grass while they listen to the brass band play for the last time this summer. Soon it's time for Ruth to leave for work.
"Bye, Ruth," Graham says and gives her a hug.
"Bye, Graham," she smiles and kisses the top of his head. "I hope to see you soon."
"Me too," he replies with a smile.
Ruth turns to Catherine and says goodbye to her too. Then much to her surprise, Catherine gives her a hug. "You take care now," Ruth murmurs in her ear.
Catherine nods and replies, "You too and look out for Dad."
"I'll do my best," Ruth smiles and releases her. "See you later, Harry," she says and turns to go to work.
"Bye," he calls and watches her walk away. Then he turns to his children and says, "How about going to the cinema?"
"Yes!" Graham yells, jumping up in the air in joy, and Catherine agrees too, though in a slightly calmer manner.
They pick up their things and wonder out of the park towards the cinema. They each pick two films they would like to watch and discover that, thankfully, they all have one choice in common, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. The next showing turns out to be in an hour's time so they wonder to a small coffee shop where the children have ice cream, and Harry has a really good cup of coffee. Catherine suggests that they take turns telling jokes, and she starts them off with one she heard at school the other day. When it's Harry's turn, it takes him some time to come up with one that isn't dirty or wholly inappropriate in some other way. In the end, he remembers one that Malcolm told him some days ago.
"Three engineers and three accountants are travelling by train to a conference," Harry says, "At the station, the three accountants each buy tickets and watch as the three engineers buy only a single ticket.
"'How are three people going to travel on only one ticket?' asks an accountant.
"'Watch and you'll see,' answers an engineer.
"All of them board the train. The accountants take their respective seats, but all three engineers cram into the loo and close the door behind them. Shortly after the train has departed, the conductor comes around collecting tickets.
"He knocks on the bathroom door and says, 'Ticket, please.'
"The door opens just a crack, and a single arm emerges with a ticket in hand. The conductor takes it and moves on. The accountants see this and agreed it's a clever idea. So after the conference, the accountants decide to copy the engineers on the return trip and save some money. When they get to the station they buy a single ticket for the return trip. To their astonishment, the engineers don't buy a ticket at all.
"'How are you going to travel without a ticket?' says one perplexed accountant.
"'Watch and you'll see,' answers an engineer.
"When they board the train the three accountants cram into one loo, and the three engineers cram into another one nearby. The train departs. Shortly afterwards, one of the engineers leaves his bathroom and walks over to the loo where the accountants are hiding.
"He knocks on the door and says, 'Ticket, please.'"
Catherine and Graham burst out laughing and Harry smiles. He's having a really good time. They tell a few more jokes as they finish up their refreshments. Then they walk back to the cinema, and soon they're sitting in front of the screen with a small tub of popcorn each, and enjoying the film and the fact that it's the first ordinary day they've spent all together in years.
They arrive at Jane's house at quarter to six with all their things, which they've just picked up from Harry's place. They get out of the car, and picking up a few bags each from the boot, they walk up to the front door. Catherine rings the doorbell, and a few moments later, Jane opens the door. She smiles at the children happily and embraces each of them, welcoming them home and waving them into the house.
"Hello, Jane," Harry says quietly. "Was your trip successful?"
"Yes, thank you," she answers shortly and then adds. "Would you like to come in?"
"Thank you," he replies, somewhat surprised by her invitation, and he steps into the house.
Jane closes the door and walks past him towards the kitchen. The children have already disappeared upstairs into their rooms. He puts down the bags he's holding and glances around. It's the first time he's been in the house, and he wonders why Jane's suddenly invited him in. Going back over events in his mind quickly, he comes to the conclusion that Catherine must have mentioned something to her when she called. Though his curiosity is piqued, he's still very cautious as he follows her into the kitchen.
"Tea or coffee?" she offers, again surprising him.
"Tea, please," he replies.
"Do you still have milk and one sugar?" she asks.
"Yes," he answers.
He watches her from the doorway as she busies about making the tea. She's still a very beautiful woman, tall and slim, graceful and elegant. Her hair is still a deep auburn colour and her eyes a lovely green that complements her hair to perfection. In short, she's still stunning.
"Take your coat off, come in, and sit down," she says. "I don't bite."
He smiles, and removing his coat, he goes out to hang it up in the hall before coming back in and sitting at the table. She places a plate of biscuits on the table and then their mugs before sitting down across from him.
"Thank you," Harry murmurs and takes a sip of his tea.
"Catherine tells me that you've been busy with the kids," she says.
"Yes," he replies. "Thankfully, we only had one Red Flash this week. It's been hard on them getting to and from school though. Catherine's been great about taking the bus when I couldn't pick them up."
"She said one of your colleagues is staying at your house," Jane says quietly, but her voice has a hard edge to it.
"Yes," he replies evenly, "Ruth. She started work last week and had nowhere to stay. She's been very good with them. And before you ask, no I'm not sleeping with her." Yet, he adds privately.
"Thankfully, that's none of my business any more," she says flatly, "but it is my business when you have a woman in the house that the children have obviously become attached to and then she leaves, leaving me to pick up the pieces. It's not good for them."
"They know that she's just a colleague, Jane," Harry counters, getting a little annoyed by this conversation now, "and since she likes them very much, I'm sure they will see her again when they visit me next time. I'll invite her over to see them. I'm sure that they'll see her more often than they see your parents or my father."
Jane glares at him but drops the subject. They sip their tea in silence and Harry feels his irritation dissipate. Jane is obviously trying to make an effort here to be civil, and he supposes that, since she's always been a single parent to all intents and purposes, she's just trying to protect the children. Sighing he says, "I'm sorry, Jane. You have every right to be concerned for them. However, they turned up very suddenly and I could hardly throw Ruth out when I'd already offered her the use of my guest room. She's calm, steady, and warm with them, and I know you have nothing to worry about."
She nods and her face relaxes a little.
"This is a nice house," Harry remarks trying to change the subject. She raises her eyebrows at his attempt to make small talk and his face breaks into a grin. "I don't know where that came from," he admits. He studies her quietly for a moment and then says, "You look good, Jane. Are you happy?"
She seems taken aback by his comment and frowns at him.
"There's no need to look so suspicious," he says in a somewhat hurt tone. "I'm not a monster. Believe it or not, I would like you to be happy. God knows, you deserve it."
Her gaze softens slightly and she replies, "I'm fine, Harry. Thank you. You look good too."
He nods taking another sip of tea.
"Who is she?" she asks and then adds quickly, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry. I can just tell that you have someone." She looks away towards the window and adds in a whisper, "I always could."
Harry sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Here we go again, he thinks, but then he remembers Ruth's words and decides that he might as well try one more time. At least Jane appears to be less hostile right now.
"I know I've hurt you, Jane," he begins quietly, "and I will always regret that." She scoffs and opens her mouth to interrupt, but he holds his hand up and says, "Please, let me finish."
She stops and looks at him, waiting for him to continue.
"I messed everything up between us," he says after a moment. "Not telling you about my work at Five until after we were married, not responding to your requests for me to be home more, working harder than ever when you needed help at home with the children, not appreciating you as much as you deserved, and cheating on you. I know all that and I am truly, very sorry. I don't know what else to say or do to make things better between us, not to ease my guilt, though that might be nice, but to make you happier." He pauses and then adds, "Don't you think it would be nice to be able to finally just let it go? You and I use to be good friends before all this. I miss that."
She studies him for a moment and then says, "The trouble with you, Harry, is that I can never tell when you're being sincere."
He thinks carefully and then replies, "What could I possibly gain from lying right now?" She shrugs and he adds, "In the end, Jane, it's your choice. You can either believe me to be sincere, or you can choose not to. I know what I would prefer."
She looks away thoughtfully and after a while says, "I appreciate your apology. I know that I didn't handle things between us well either, and that I share some of the blame for our failed marriage. We were good friends once. We probably should have just stayed friends." She pauses, and looking back at him, continues, "This is nice. Being able to talk without blaming each other all the time. You're less reactive and more patient and understanding today. I can see why Catherine enjoyed her stay with you." She studies him quietly for a few moments, and then adds, "She's a good influence on you."
He raises his eyebrows, and she shakes her head and smiles for the first time since he sat down at her table.
"I may not be able to tell when you're being sincere in your apologies, but you can't fool me when it comes to women, Harry," she says. "If you're not sleeping with her, then you want to, this Ruth of yours." He opens his mouth to argue but she stops him by saying, "It's none of my business. Forget I said anything."
He closes his mouth with an exasperated sound and it elicits another smile from her. It really lights up her face, making her look younger and very beautiful.
"You're still one of the most beautiful women I know, Jane," he smiles.
"And you, Harry," she replies, "are still a charmer."
They look at each other for a moment and then Harry says, "I'd better get going. Thanks for the tea and the chat, Jane. It's nice to have a truce."
"Yes," she replies, "it is."
He gets up and carries his cup and Jane's to the sink where he rinses them out.
"Still as neat as ever," she jokes and he chuckles.
They make their way to the front door, and Harry calls up to his children that he's leaving. They come thundering downstairs in a moment, and he hugs and kisses each of them, promising to have them over to stay again soon. Jane watches the exchange with interest and pleasure, though at the back of her mind she worries that it's just a temporary reprieve from the regular indifference that Harry shows towards them all. She's suddenly very curious to meet Ruth and see the person she believes is responsible for this transformation in her ex.
Harry leaves the house, and entering his car, drives home happy in the knowledge that he has a date for tonight, and that now the house is empty, he might even get lucky too.