Thank you for reading, and for all the reviews. I really appreciate them! One, maybe two, more chapters to come. As ever, none of this belongs to me, and it gets a little bit sweary.

To Harry's relief, Graham was as good as his word and came back for evening visiting. He was subdued - not surprising given the afternoon's revelations - but for the first time he sat down beside his father.

'No Ruth?'

'I expect she'll be along later. She's probably having a rest given that she drove here straight from London.'

'So what is it with you two?'

'Sorry?'

'Are you an item or something? You were holding hands when I arrived this afternoon, but then she could barely look you in the eye and she vamoosed pretty damn sharpish.'

'She wanted us to talk. Obviously she saw enough to realise we wouldn't need a referee and thought we might be more...open without a third party present.'

'You still haven't answered my question.'

'Yes.'

'You're seeing each other?'

'Yes. No. More than that. "Seeing each other" makes it sound like some casual fling. I'm in love with her.'

Graham started. 'TMI, dad. And very unlike you to be so emotionally honest.'

'You're not a child anymore, Graham. Ruth and I pussyfooted around each other for years. Apparently when she first saw me there was something of a coup de foudre; for me, it took a little longer, and longer still to realise it. But we didn't finally get our act together until a few weeks ago. So many wasted years just because we couldn't bring ourselves to say 'I love you.' ' He gave a rueful smile. 'I'm not very good at learning from my mistakes, as you well know.'

'And you think that telling me you love me will make everything all right between us?'

'No, but I am asking for a chance to put things right. I know I'm nearly 30 years too late, and I've got a helluva lot to put right, but I'll do whatever it takes.' Harry sighed. 'Graham, life is too short and too fragile for not doing your best by those you love. But for some guy walking his dog on Monday morning, you could've lost both your father and sister in a matter of weeks and known bugger all about it. God knows you don't deserve that; nobody does.'

Graham sat slumped in his chair, fiddling with the pull tab on his hoodie zip, for all the world like a moody teenager.

'Your mum and I married too young, and we married the wrong people, and we both handled it badly. Your mother thought little of my career and my way of proving to her that it was worthwhile and that I was good at it was to throw myself into it. Of course, that just proved her point that I was a lousy husband and widened the gulf between us. And because I couldn't...connect with her I never really bonded with you and Catherine. Admittedly, I didn't try as hard as I should have. I let your mum push me aside when you were crying and I was trying to comfort you. I believed her when she said it was best that I wasn't there for your birthday rather than appearing for an hour and having to leave again. I knew I was a terrible father. All I seemed to do, left right and centre, was let you all down, disappoint you, and the guilt of that just made me lash out. So I took refuge in the one thing I was good at, my work, hoping that if I stayed out of your lives I would at least minimise the damage I caused. Work was my answer to everything and the solution, as it turned out, to nothing.'

'Bullshit,' Graham muttered.

As if on cue, Ruth walked in. She took one look at Graham's mutinous face and Harry's stunned one and halted mid-stride. 'Should I leave?'

'I just bared my soul to my son and he told me I was talking bullshit.'

'To be fair, not all of it was bullshit. You were a lousy husband and a terrible father.'

Harry flinched.

Ruth laid a holdall on the foot of Harry's bed. 'Well, I'm glad you're both agreed on something. Subtle change of subject: I brought you some bits and bobs. Toiletries...pants, socks, tshirts...I got a pair of jogging bottoms; hopefully they'll be loose enough not to aggravate your stomach. Oh, and your razor.'

Harry rubbed his chin. 'Oh, I don't know. I quite like the bearded look.'

'It is quite sexy,' Ruth conceded, 'but trust me, my face red raw wouldn't be.'

Harry grinned. 'Fair enough. Can you help me get dressed? I've been in the same boxers for days.'

'What about a wash, don't you need a wash?'

Graham shot out of his chair. 'I'll just...get a coffee.'

Harry waited til the door closed behind him then reached for Ruth. 'As it happens I got a bed bath earlier, but if you would like to soap me down I'm all yours.'

She broke the kiss. 'You had some gorgeous young thing in a nurse's uniform washing you all over? I hope the cardiac unit's on this floor.'

'Sadly he more resembled Towers' younger brother in pyjamas.' He winced as he raised his arms to put on the tshirt. 'Anyway, are you going to tell me what's wrong?'

She pulled down the tshirt and reached for his boxers. 'Sorry?'

'I can just about understand why you were angry when you arrived, but your reaction to Graham was...unexpected, and, well, you just seem a bit upset for some reason.'

'Can you lift your bum up a bit. Was I rude to Graham? Sorry. It was all a bit...'

'What was all a bit what? Talk to me, Ruth.'

He saw a flash of anger in her eyes. 'That's a bit rich.'

'What?'

'Look, there's a time and place. We'll talk about this when we get back to London.'

'No, we'll talk about this now!'

She pulled a pair of boxer briefs from the holdall, then sat on the edge of the bed, head bowed, plucking at the fabric.

'I don't understand why you couldn't tell me that you wanted to look for Graham. I don't understand why you had to have this ridiculous cloak and dagger charade. You were trying to find your son, for god's sake, not infiltrate an IRA cell. And worst of all, I don't understand how you could tell me a pack of lies and shunt me out of the way to GCHQ in order to ensure that I didn't find out what you were up to.'

Pause. 'Is there any chance you could put those briefs on before I answer that? I feel a bit naked.'

'Oh, put on your own bloody pants!' Ruth shouted, and throwing them at him, she grabbed her bag from the chair and stormed out.

Graham returned ten minutes later to find his father staring despairingly into space.

'Where's Ruth?'

'Things to do, people to see.'

'Dad?'

'We had a full and frank exchange of views. Well, Ruth did.'

'For fuck's sake, I was gone like ten minutes! What on earth did you do?'

'Oh, so you automatically think it's my fault?'

Graham snorted. 'Can't think why.'

Back at the B+B, Ruth had a perfunctory wash then crawled into bed. Despite the double glazing and the thick curtains, the intermittent hum of traffic along the road outside prevented her from drifting beyond a doze. She was about to give up and switch the light on to read when her mobile rang, the backlit screen casting an eerie green glow across the room. Fumbling across the top of the bedside cabinet her fingers closed on the phone and she brought it blearily to her face. Not a number she recognised.

'Hello.'

'It's me. I'm on Graham's mobile and he doesn't have much credit left so please can you just listen? I thought you'd try to stop me. I thought you'd be worried about my getting hurt if I found him, getting hurt if I didn't. I didn't want to burden you with licking my wounds if it all went pearshaped. I didn't want Graham getting wind of my being there and running a mile. I didn't want the local CID getting wind of my being there and taking a professional interest. Thankfully despite what's happened it seems they are still oblivious of who I really am. I wanted to get Jenna in to help because of her background and because she's the dead spit of the first girl Graham fell in love with. Corny, but hey, it worked. Budgets being as they are I could only wing it if it was one in, one out, and I thought that you'd turn up some kind of dodgy goings on in Cheltenham in no time and be back on the Grid before the mathematicians even took their noses out of their logarithms long enough to register you were there. And I can't remember if that is everything but this bloody thing is beeping so I'll just say I love you and please can you come and put my pants on tomorrow.' The line went dead.

Laughing despite herself, Ruth put the phone back on the bedside cabinet.

'I love you too, Harry Pearce,' she whispered. Within moments, she was asleep.