Waiting until Ruth had closed her eyes before he'd turned off the light, Harry knew that he'd never grow tired of this most precious time of the day. Here in this sleepy village, where the world really did feel as though it was standing still. Where there was no longer the constant hum of traffic to keep them awake. Complete silence, which on nights well into the future, in their own bedroom, they would be able to lie awake for longer, as they grew ever closer together.
A problem shared was a problem halved, and this one, for the moment at least, was how they'd agreed to approach the following days. What was done was done. A philosophy that when breakfast was being delivered to their table the next morning, together with a clear sky outside the window, was still very much in evidence.
'Any problems, anything you need, you just call me,' Mo reminded them, as they climbed into the car to drive the mile or so to the house. Armed with a list of shops that sold anything and everything, from a bucket to a full house of furniture.
'Nothing too modern,' Harry had told her before Ruth had arrived at the breakfast table. Where up until then, he'd been passing the time by admiring the tables and chairs in the dining room and imagining them having something similar. At which point, Mo had added another name to the list.
'If it's character you're looking for, try Dobbs in Ipswich,' she'd told him, in a voice that despite her broad accent he was starting to get used to.
.
Letting Harry carry her over the threshold, something that he'd been quite prepared to do, wasn't going to happen and Harry already knew that. Proven as soon as he opened the door and Ruth was past him. Disappearing in the direction of the kitchen, he knew exactly why and his heart lifted at the thought of it. Their forever home as Malcolm had called it when they'd shown him the details, desperately needing to share their news with someone, was a Suffolk longhouse. Chalk from cheese from both of their houses in London.
The kitchen especially, which had been installed by the previous occupants, was almost brand new and Ruth had fallen in love with it. Not quite 'bugger the rest' but pretty close. Access to the remaining rooms on the ground floor, was without a corridor or a hall, although by no means did it feel as though it was open plan. It felt quirky. It was quirky. There was exactly the same feeling on the first floor, except that here there was a passageway along one side, with circular windows like the bottoms of huge bottles, that overlooked the farmland that butted onto theirs. The three bedrooms and the bathroom, were accessed by climbing one of the two staircases at either end of the house and it was here that he finally caught up with her. That Ruth was happy this morning was an understatement. She was bouncing.
Then of course there was the garden, which Ruth had described as wonderful and something that she was longing to get to grips with. Another of the many things that had been music to his ears, even though he was a self-confessed hater of getting his hands in the soil. Admiring a well-tended garden was an entirely different matter and their new garden was certainly that. Having been added too over the years, it had become one of those rambling plots. Not unlike his brother's in France, but a lot smaller.
On the day that they'd decided to buy it, Ruth certainly hadn't needed his encouragement. A positive and excited Ruth, something that always made him feel ten years younger and capable of doing anything, whether he wanted to or not, had been egged on by Mr. Potts, the previous owner. A lovely old man who was well into his eighties, who was selling the house to move nearer to his kids, now that he was on his own. The late Mrs Potts had been the gardener, he'd told them when they'd been admiring his workshop. His favourite place where he'd spent most of his time.
As Harry had eyed up the neat rows of hammers, screw drivers and vices that he was leaving for them, he hadn't had the heart to tell him that he'd be calling in the nearest handyman for anything that turned out to be over complicated. Although contrary to public opinion, who in this case had been his former wife, he could do most jobs around the house with his eyes closed. His years in the army and then as a spy, and he could pretty much dismantle or put together anything, or anybody for that matter. It was one of the chief requirements of survival.
But that had been then and this was now and as he headed back out to the car, to bring in the few things that they had brought with them, a wave of pure happiness washed over him. An overnight case, just to be on the safe side which had become a necessity. Their laptops and the essentials for them to be able to throw together a meal. The shopping that they'd done in the village. All combined to how he was feeling and had nothing to do with the fact that it was November, so he wouldn't be summoned to cut the lawn for a few month's yet. Because today was the start of another chapter in the book that Ben had talked about, when he'd told him to take it one step at a time.
More than that, it was the realisation that for the first time since he'd fallen in love with Ruth and certainly since she'd said yes, now his favourite word in the English Language, that they could do what they liked, when they liked and without any restrictions or the need to look at their watches. They were officially free as birds. And that the one that was currently exploring their new nest, would probably appreciate a cup of tea.
It wasn't until mid-afternoon that the crunch of gravel on the drive, announced the arrival of the van. A much smaller van than had arrived at Ruth's London house the previous day, causing Harry to squeeze her hand when it slipped into his, as they watched it reverse into the space next to their car.
Respite when it came, was in the form of the man who was delivering the curtains. Sensible enough not to make the obvious comment, or worse still laugh about what would have once been described as furniture, as Ruth took him into the house. Glad that she had something tangible to do, as she guided him from room to room. Especially as his arrival was coinciding with Harry negotiating without cost, that the damaged furniture, not all of it by any means, would be taken away and disposed of. The boxes which they'd carefully labelled were in varying states. Some were crushed, some not and some were even the same shape as when they packed them. All of which were being carefully carried through to the dining room.
When the whirlwind of activity finally stopped, Ruth drew the curtains in the kitchen and took stock. Good choice she thought, admiring what they'd chosen. Gazing around her favourite room as she unpacked the crockery and the other bits and bobs that Mo had lent them. Despite everything, or perhaps because of what had happened, she suddenly felt grateful. The house was still wrapped around them. They were together. Not a word that she'd often been able to use before now, without crossing her fingers. Harry was close by and was lighting the fire. The worst was over. It was only going to get better from now on.
The following day.
Having spent the night, sleeping on a mattress on the floor, with bedding that they'd borrowed, a new bed or in this case beds, were essential. And not because they hadn't slept well, because they had. Like logs in fact. Until they'd be woken up by a call from Catherine, wanting to know how they were settling in.
'Do you need any help?' ceased to be a question, as soon as Harry opened his mouth. Remembering only too late, that his headstrong daughter revelled in a challenge, and would immediately throw one back at him.
'Could she bring the boys, or should she leave them at her mother's?' Was only going to get one answer. Harry hadn't seen his grandsons for almost three months. Even then, it had only been for an hour or so, before he'd been called back into work.
'I'll see you tomorrow then, give my love to Ruth,' she told him. Not before adding that 'it would be fun.'
'Do we really need three-year old twin boys and Catherine to add to the chaos?' he asked Ruth over breakfast. Already imagining their smiling faces, and to hell with the added carnage that the two small boys would surely create. Wes briefly crossing his mind. How they needed to ring him when they had a moment. How Adam had talked about bonding with his son. How here in their new house, with his family that now included Ruth, he'd have time on their hands to enjoy himself.
'Why not? Either way, that's what we're going to get. Perhaps we ought to hide that chocolate you're so fond of,' Ruth suggested. And not entirely because she was concerned about the boy's teeth. Harry and his stash of chocolate buttons was legendary. She was also secretly pleased that she was going to spend some time with Catherine again. Harry could cope with the boys. After all, he'd been a boy himself once hadn't he?
Dobbs when they found it, was on a trading estate on the outskirts of town. Two large warehouses, linked by a glass walkway, which at first glance, would probably have somewhere that they'd have rejected, had it not been for Mo's insistence that it sold everything! Ends of lines from the more conventional shops and high end second hand. Well worth a look as it turned out.
Would they be able to deliver in the morning? Absolutely! How often did they get customers, who intended spending more in a single day than they usually took in the space of a week? Even managing to rustle up some coffee and biscuits, half way through the course of their shopping, which by then had covered pretty much all of the larger items.
'Now I know why kids end up knackered in a toy shop,' Harry mumbled, when the very helpful assistant called Tina, left them alone to catch their breath. With the instructions to call her when they were ready to set off again, or if they needed anything else. Anything else, in this case was to choose some crockery that they both liked. Some glasses and what amounted to everything that you might need to use in a kitchen. Thank goodness for the list, thought Harry, steadily crossing off more items as they moved on into the section that sold bedding and towels.
'That's it, what we haven't got will have to wait,' he said, with the patience of a saint, when they piled the last of what they'd chosen into the umpteenth trolley. Thinking that, if for the sake of his sanity, Ruth could convince him that the reason they were doing this, was because they wanted too and not because they'd been forced too, that he might even take up sky diving.
.
The twenty tiny fingers and twenty tiny toes that belonged to Michael and Tom, were accompanied by two very loud and excited voices. Combine with legs that moved rapidly, the moment that they clapped eyes on Harry, until they'd successfully got him in a knee lock times two, pretty much summed up how things were going to pan out. These tiny assassins, potentially far more troublesome than any he'd encountered in his working life, had spent the entire journey from London on a wave of expectation. Because their grandpa who they loved to bits, now lived in the country. Where there would be sheep and cows and puddles to jump into when it rained.
The fact their grandpa had been planning to christen his new marital bed, in a time honoured fashion, now that they had a bed, wasn't something that Catherine had considered. With a partner who spent weeks on end abroad in the line of duty, or in this case to bring in a good wage, something that she struggled with in the same way that her mother once had, she'd long since accepted bouts of chastity, as the price she had to pay.
With the play school where she worked closed for a couple of weeks, she could have gone to her mother's. But what would that have achieved? Home from home, where the boys would be restricted to staying indoors and doing the same old. Besides, since she'd rekindled her relationship with her dad and since the boys had been born, she'd faced up to the fact, that what she could actually remember of her early childhood, had been fun. This need she had to spend more time with him now, might be very strong, but it wasn't just about her. She wanted him to understand he hadn't failed her. He'd been a great dad and that she'd always loved him. Where better to come than to a totally new environment. Suffolk, where he'd set up home with Ruth, who she already knew would want this for her dad as much as she did.
All of which she'd have to tell him later. Because oblivious to the fact that she and Ruth had been standing together watching him, with huge smiles on their faces, Harry had finally stopped pretending that he was their captive and had extricated himself from the two little limpets.
