Wow Hesitant hedgehog is on FIRE! First one to spot the impossible quote; I'm impressed. Congratulations and a reheated by Harry meal for you with extra burnt bits. If you need it in action youtube 'spoiler alert the hour ben whishaw you are impossible' just stop after the first minute unless you want to be really depressed, although I do hear that had there been a third series the writer was planning on letting Freddie live. You've been warned.

Special thanks to Freya82 for all her help on this chapter and the kick up the backside I needed to write this properly.

Chapter 37

Thursday 4th July

Kicked Off Shoes

Harry was looking forward to dinner today, Nikki had promised to come over and Jorge and Beto were going to Skype him at seven. It seemed strange that the reason they were around on a Thursday was a public holiday given in honour of the Americans beating the British but he didn't care about the history. He'd missed his friends and he was looking forward to hearing all about Vegas. He'd sorted the dinner too and set the oven timer, so it would come on and go off perfectly. He might not be able to figure out Leo's car stereo or his SAT NAV but he could operate the cooker.

He'd been shown round some houses in the morning, none of which he'd liked; wrong location, wrong layout, too much work, too big, too small. Then he had been to see a web designer in the afternoon. His new financial adviser had scheduled a meeting for Monday and before then he wanted Harry to produce a realistic spread sheet of costs. It was hard to think of the monetary worth of his time and the cost of the tests he had run routinely in the past but if he didn't have a clear idea of how much to charge, there was no way he would ever earn a living from it.

He'd made it clear to Trevor that he didn't want to profit from people's misery. He'd seen that clearly talking to Marcia yesterday. She would have willingly thrown every penny she had at him in an attempt to think she was doing the best for her son, but nothing was going to bring that baby back and he wouldn't take people's money because it salved their consciences. Maybe his first consultation should always be free. He'd find out if the case was really worth investigating further and if he thought it would be of use to the relatives. He couldn't see his financial adviser thinking it was a smart move but it did establish a kind of decency and propriety; made him look less of an ambulance chaser.

He'd tidied the garden when he got bored of working on his spread sheet. But he'd tired of that quickly, just cutting the grass had been exhausting so he'd phoned Nikki to ask for help with the costs. Jack had picked up, they'd chatted about nothing particular only the reason for Harry's call until Jack had said,

"Well, I suppose I do owe you a favour."

He'd given Harry, Clarissa's number and within an hour Clarissa had emailed him back with the most comprehensive list he'd ever seen. She'd even included the price of an exhumation; how she'd found it out, and so quickly he'd never know but he was smart enough to realise that here was a woman he had to stay on good terms with. He wondered why Nikki had never really spent much time with her. He'd heard a lot about Jack, but little about Clarissa. She was obviously intelligent and sociable. He was missing a piece of the puzzle of that he was sure.

Nikki arrived about 6:30, Harry heard her let herself in with her key, and call out to him as she kicked off her shoes in the hallway. It was the best sound he'd heard all day. He still hadn't adjusted to the radio, and had only just found out how to log on to Leo's wifi but playing tunes out of his computer seemed wrong.

Leo's CD collection was atrocious as Harry had expected. He was surprised there weren't more early classics. No Rolling Stones, no Who not even Creedance Clearwater Revival. What had Leo been doing in his prime? Certainly not listening to music. All he'd found was 'Tubular Bells' and 'Hotel California,' he didn't even have Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, he thought everyone owned that album somewhere. He'd not bothered to look through the classical ones, the first three were all Chopin and then a Debussy, he didn't wait to see if the rest were alphabetised he just dumped them all into one of the boxes to go to the charity shop.

"Hi Nikki, how was your day?" he called out but to no answer. He could hear clanking sounds coming from the kitchen; maybe he'd join her in a cuppa before he talked to Jorge.

"How are you?" he repeated to her back, again without reply.

He walked up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder, "Nikki?" he asked.

She jumped about a foot in the air and her sudden movement dislodged one of her earphones.

"Oh, hi Harry, I didn't realise you were in," she said, moving closer to the cupboard.

"But you were coming over for dinner and to start on the books, where else would I be?"

She looked confused as if Harry had caught her with her hands in the biscuit tin, not just making tea.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing, I'm fine," she said and hastily plugged her earpiece back in.

She had agreed to come over, but she was still avoiding him, or punishing him. He wasn't sure which. Or maybe she was trying to distract herself from the task in hand by focusing on her music or whatever it was she was listening to. She had every right to he supposed and he'd put up with it for a while. She'd forgive him eventually wouldn't she? Maybe Jorge and Beto would be able to help.

They'd not talked about the rest of the letter Harry had written to her. Yet. They'd talked about Leo's will, Harry's plans for his new job, Jorge's new job even, but not the page at the beginning; the one where he'd explained why he was coming home. He'd never worked on anything so conscientiously before. He could have written a week's worth of post-mortems in the time it took to write those short paragraphs but she seemed to have blanked them entirely.

Had he been wrong? Had it been too much? Did he understand so little about women? About her? Maybe he should have let Beto read through it. He'd offered to help and Harry had laughed off his suggestion as if it had been a joke. But he knew it wasn't, maybe Beto would have had the words to pierce Nikki's armour plating and touch her heart. After Harry's refusal of help, Beto had begun singing 'Dear Darling,' parodying both Olly Murs' voice, Harry pretending to write his letter and a few donkey noises thrown in for fun. They'd all ended up laughing at the time. It didn't seem so funny now.

Nikki was in the study, he could hear her pushing the books around in the boxes. He looked at his laptop on the kitchen table. Leo's clock was still thundering along its peculiar countdown, it was too early to Skype but he could open it up ready. Harry clicked on the document in which he'd drafted her letter. Maybe if he looked at it again he'd see where he'd gone wrong. Nikki wasn't likely to come in. She'd made it clear she wasn't in the mood for talking. Even if she did walk in, it would just force the conversation that needed to be had. He had rewritten it so many times even he was blurry about which version he'd finally written out by hand and sent to her.

Dear Nikki,

I have tried to live life without you, on my terms, I have endured life without you, on your terms and I don't like either. I'm tired, Nikki. I'm tired of making excuses. I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of lying to myself. I'm tired of wasting time.

I need you.

I want you.

I am in love with you.

I never expected to discover that at age forty I had finally fallen in love and fallen so hard that your saying, 'goodbye,' to me after our weekend together in New York, could cause me actual physical pain. But it did, it was more terrifying and more painful than looking death in the face Nikki, and you and I both know how that feels. And then when I heard that you were going to Afghanistan, the way my heart pounded, I thought it would rupture. I knew then that I would never be able to move on from you. That my love for you was not something I could control and for my life to have any worth or joy; I needed to be with you again; to do whatever it would take to win you back.

I am a scientist, not an artist and certainly not a poet. These are the only words I have. I see the world as a scientist would, a set of stages to be worked through, investigated, classified and filed and for much of my life the conclusions I have drawn from all those investigations never made sense. I had the wrong theory, the wrong method, the wrong expectations, the wrong actions. Not coming back for Leo's funeral was wrong Nikki. I am sorry, I should have been there.

When I am with you, I have answers. With you I can see the complete picture. Your mind is open to possibilities that I cannot imagine, and so with you, when we are together, my questions are answered and I find the right theories, the right methods, the right expectations. I told you once that I wasn't sure how to get what I wanted from life, I'm still not sure how, but I know what I want.

I want to be with you, live with you, love you, raise a family with you if you wish, grow old with you.

You make my world come alive. I never fully understood that until you were gone. I don't ever want to go back to that dark place; you are my light, my illumination. Without you, I am barely a shadow.

Forgive me please. I know it will take time. I know we will have problems. I'm not expecting it to be a smooth ride but could we please try? Nikki I'm sure you loved me once.

Can you give me one more chance to make us work? Please.

He screwed up his face and leant back in his chair. Perhaps Beto could have made it better; it was too late to change now. He'd just have to try and show her that it was true. Maybe then she would believe him.

He ran his hand across his cheek, then quickly closed the window as he heard the Skype tone ring.

Never intended on writing the letter, hope it is Harry enough.