A/N: This is the final chapter. Thank you to readers, and especially to those who have reviewed.
"What did Catherine ask you to tell me?" Ruth says, once they are dressed, and back in the kitchen. Harry is making a pot of coffee, and he turns towards her before speaking.
"She wants you to answer the door when she arrives. I don't know why, and in a way, I don't want to know."
They don't have long to wait. Just over thirty minutes after Catherine's phone call, they hear the knock on the door. They look at one another, and Ruth gets up from where she is sitting on the sofa, and heads to the front door, while Harry remains in the sitting room, with the coffee pot and cups. She can read the nervousness behind his expression. She stops and reaches down to him, placing a soft kiss on his lips before she leaves the room.
"It's alright, Harry," she says quietly. "I'll not let anything bad happen to you."
Harry smiles to himself as Ruth leaves the living room. He has always believed he to be the one who should be looking after her.
Ruth opens the door to Catherine. She's not yet met her, but she recognises her from the footage Danny had shot of her a number of years previously. She looks a little older, and seems more grown up. They hug briefly, and then pull apart.
"I've been longing to meet you," Catherine says, "and I couldn't wait another month. I'm flying out in the morning."
"It's lovely to meet you at last. Harry's …... your dad's in the sitting room. He's a bit …... nervous about this surprise you have for him."
Catherine laughs lightly, and shakes her head. "He probably thinks I'm about to tell him I'm getting married, or worse, that I'm pregnant. No, this is much better than that."
Ruth is surprised when Catherine turns away from her, and steps back on to the small front porch, before she gestures to a figure standing by the gate. "It's alright," she says, "you can come inside now."
The figure slowly walks down the path, and joins Catherine on the porch. Ruth knows as soon as she sees his face, that she is looking into the eyes of Graham Pearce. It's not so much that he looks like Harry, which, apart from his mouth and the shape of his jaw, he doesn't. It is the look of him, a serious and hostile attitude which reminds her of Harry, and immediately she knows that this young man and his father are so much alike that they must surely bring out the very worst in each other. She puts out her hand to him, and he shakes it, smiling slightly.
"I'd know you anywhere. Welcome, Graham. Harry won't be expecting this."
"You don't think it too much all at once?" Catherine says from behind her brother. "I mean, in less than two weeks, Dad has dumped his wife -"
"Actually, I think she dumped him first," Ruth interrupts.
"Split up from her, then. He's found you – after all this time – and now it's the prodigal son at his front door."
"As long as you come with an open mind and a peaceful heart, Graham," Ruth says, looking into the pale grey eyes of the young man whom she may one day be able to call her step-son, "I'm sure Harry will be receptive. We can't stay out here too long, though. He can be quite suspicious of things over which he has no control."
With those words, Graham's slim face breaks into a wide smile. "That sounds like Harry."
"Graham, would you like to go into the sitting room alone, and Catherine and I will wait in the hallway outside the door, just in case either of you need calming down."
"I'm calm," Graham says, holding out his hands to show how steady they are. "I want this over with."
And Graham, true to his word, steps inside the house, and opens the door to the sitting room, shutting it behind him.
Harry turns when he hears the door close, and then he stops breathing. They each stare at the other, like a couple of male lions eyeing up the other. Harry knows he has to be the one to move first, so he gets up from the sofa, and steps towards his son, not sure whether Graham will welcome even a hand shake.
"This is such a wonderful surprise," Harry says, stepping close enough to grasp Graham's shoulder with one hand. Feeling no resistance in his son's body, he pulls him close for a quick hug, followed by a back slap. Then he pushes him to arm's length, and looks into his eyes. They are clear, and the intelligence has returned. After all, it is 9 years since they last saw one another, and that meeting had not gone at all well. "I hope this is your idea as well as Catherine's," Harry says.
Graham nods. "I thought it about time I acted like the adult I claim to be. Even Mum thought it a good idea."
Harry lifts his eyebrows in surprise at that last piece of news. "Would you like a coffee?" he asks.
"That would be nice. Thank you," and as he adds sugar and milk to his cup, he smiles across the coffee table at his father. "Shall we tell Catherine and Ruth to come in? They're waiting just the other side of that door."
Harry grins at his son. "We could either do that, or pretend to have the most disastrous reunion of all time."
In the end, it is Graham who opens the door to Ruth an Catherine, both of whom are taken by surprise, and have been having a close and quiet conversation of their own.
The four of them begin to talk all at once, and when Harry realises they are a cup short, he offers to get it from the kitchen. "And I'll bring some biscuits as well," he says to no-one in particular. When, five minutes later, he hasn't returned, Ruth notices.
"I'll just go and check on Harry," she says, as she leaves the room. Catherine and Graham are occupied inspecting the photographs Harry has displayed around the room. Apart from one of Ruth on her own, and another of he and Ruth – faces close together, both smiling at the camera - taken by Stefan in his coffee shop in Polis the week before, all the photographs are of Catherine and Graham.
"I can't remember ever seeing this photo," Graham says, as Ruth quietly leaves the room.
In the kitchen, all is quiet, and Harry stands at the sink. At first glance, he appears to be staring out the window, but as she gets closer, she can see his shoulders shaking. With the stealth of the spy she knows herself to be, Ruth steps beside him, and slides her arm around his waist, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. She knows that nothing is wrong, and that Harry is just overwhelmed by the emotion of seeing his son again.
"I love you, Harry," she says quietly, lifting her face so that she can see his reflection in the window above the sink.
He passes a hand down his face, and sniffs loudly as he wipes his nose with the back of his hand. "I don't know what to do with these …... these feelings," he says, his voice nasal from his nose being blocked.
"Just let them out," Ruth replies, pressing her lips to his neck.
"I'm not used to …... feeling so much. Firstly you turn up again in my life, and now, on top of that, Graham comes in …... in peace. I think I must be the luckiest man in the world."
"I think it's your son who's the luckiest man, Harry. He's lucky he has such a wonderful man for a father."
"I haven't been much of a father to him."
"Then it's a good thing he's here now, ready to get to know the man you are now …... the man I love."
Ruth reaches up to grasp his face between her hands. She kisses his lips with a soft and gentle kiss, and she can taste his tears. She wipes her thumbs across his cheeks, removing the tears.
"These are tears of joy, Ruth."
"I know. You have to join us now."
"I'll wash my face first."
Harry slips into the utilities room, just off the kitchen, where she hears water running, while she gathers an extra coffee mug, and puts a few biscuits on a plate. By the time she is ready to return to the sitting room, Harry is standing beside her, his eyes shining.
"I love you too, Ruth," he says, his hand on the small of her back.
"I know you do. You show me every day."
"I don't know how I lived these last two and a half years without you. I was just existing ….. going through the motions, feeling nothing."
"As was I, Harry. We're luckier than most. We've found one another again, before it was too late."
They watch the face they each love the most, and then Ruth turns towards the sitting room, Harry close behind her. When they re-enter the sitting room, it is clear they have not been missed, although Graham notices their quiet entry.
"How come you kept all these old photographs?" he asks.
"I had to remember you somehow," Harry says quietly.
"You really need a few which are up to date, though. I mean, will you look at my hair? Most of these were taken in the nineties."
Harry and Ruth exchange a glance, and Ruth says, "We may as well fix that tonight. I'll get your camera."
"It's in the second drawer -"
"In the desk in your office, I know."
"You know?" Harry asks her. Ruth has turned towards the door.
"You forget, Harry. I know everything."
They exchange a smile, one which is just between them. Ruth heads off upstairs, while Harry talks with his children. He is part of a family again – he and Ruth, Catherine and Graham – and this is where he belongs.
Upstairs, Ruth closes the second drawer in Harry's desk, and heads back downstairs. It is years since she's been part of a family, and she doesn't want to miss even a minute of it.