'Buster?' queried Finn, who had been helping Harry and Ruth pack, safe in the knowledge that this was for a holiday and that he wasn't going to be bundled off to another family. Involve him Miss. Harrington had said and they'd certainly been doing that. Which to her credit and with their patience had certainly worked. Finn had come on in leaps and bounds. His only concern now, that his most precious possession was going to be left behind. When in fact they were taking a break to gather their breath and at the same time sharing a mental checklist to make sure that they hadn't forgotten anything.
'Buster's coming with us, but we don't want to put him in a suitcase do we sweetheart?' Ruth told him, picking up what only could only be described as the most practical backpack in the world and constituted their hand luggage and where Buster would be residing on the plane. Along with a packet of wet wipes, the pre-booked tickets to the exhibition and a list of alternatives to their original plan, because Catherine and Chris had called and asked if they could spend a day with them. Together with all the other where did we put those items, that were part and parcel of a week's holiday with two inquisitive and active children in a large city. A holiday which had been booked two days after Catherine had flown home and was now only a couple of days away. Harry and Thomas having poured over a map and put together an itinerary, which would have graced the Queen herself had she been coming with them. The hotel where they were staying, having no relevance other than it was tried and tested, because it was the same one where they stayed on their honeymoon. Guaranteeing them comfort and with the ability to keep the boys close, but not too close, with plenty of room to spread out. The reason that Harry had booked so far in advance. That and because it was Easter, when an always busy London would be flooded with extra tourists. Tourists that would be planning to visit the same landmarks as they were, but without a four-year-old who had energy to burn.
'That's a lot for us to pack into just one week.' Harry had told Thomas, when amongst other things he'd been waxing lyrical about were the London Eye and The Tower of London. At opposite ends of the city. Not forgetting that they'd also promised to take him to see where they'd worked together. Something which by doing so, would present their son with a question that they'd so far managed to avoid. The yet to be discovered moment of truth, when Thomas would either accept or be horrified that his parents and his father in particular, had been spies. Something that they weren't going to lie about, but planned to be sparing when it came to any details.
.
'I've got the spare key and I'll pop in every couple of days to check that everything's alright. Who knows, I might even find time to cut the lawn,' Malcolm told Ruth in his usual reassuring voice and with an expression on his face that said don't worry about anything and have a lovely time. When he, she and Finn were standing to one side, while Harry and Thomas were collecting their boarding cards. Malcom having delivered Whisky to the vicarage for them, before insisting that he drive them to the airport for their mid-morning flight to Manchester and then onwards to London Heathrow. A taxi booked to drive them to their hotel. A route that would eventually take them over Westminster Bridge and the memories that would evoke, adding to the feeling of excitement that Ruth hadn't been expecting, but now was. Harry and Thomas arriving back in the nick of time with their priority boarding cards as their flight was announced. A flight that with a clear blue sky right across the UK, would give them perfect views as they took off and landed. More importantly and Ruth had double checked, was that Buster's head was visible from the front pocket of the backpack that Thomas was carrying. Because bears, even toy ones needed to breathe.
As it had been when they'd flown to Canada with Thomas, the advantage of having a small child with you and certainly one that was guaranteed to charm the pants of anyone, paid off. Priority boarding had allowed them to choose their seats, which were in the front row with extra leg room and close to the toilets if they needed them. That and as soon as they were in the air, they received the attention of the cabin crew or in this case Penny as she introduced herself. All of which saved them from any unforeseen dramas, as she fussed over Finn, who to his credit was living up to his reputation.
Manchester once they landed, presenting them with a completely different challenge. People in their thousands, milling about in search of whatever it was that they were looking for or didn't need, but by buying it was way to pass the time before their flight was due. Which in Harry and Ruth's case and with over an hour to wait before their onward flight to London, was something to eat and drink, but without becoming the filling in the sandwich that they were searching for. Harry carving his way through the crowds, with a trolley that also provided a seat that Finn could sit on and decided he was driving, causing Harry to become quietly optimistic that this boded well for the entirety of holiday. With Thomas chatting away twenty to the dozen as a seasoned flyer, keeping up a commentary which spared him and Ruth from saying anything, other than, 'wipe your fingers boys and does anyone need to toilet?' Until the announcement that passengers for the next flight to Heathrow, should proceed to gate 27. Onto a much larger plane and where they were able to sit two on one side and three on the other, if only in Finn's imagination. Buster having been repatriated from the overhead storage by a very biddable stewardess called Katy. Having asked Finn what his name was, to be told that it was Buster and he didn't like being up there, as opposed to Finn, which had been Katy's original question. All very confusing but caused some amusement amongst their fellow passengers. A time filler, until suddenly there it was, way below them in the distance but clearly recognisable. The city that Harry had spent his entire working life fighting to protect. The river winding is way between buildings, some new and some which had stood there for centuries. Their home for so many years.
.
'Are you OK? Harry asked Ruth, when they were waiting for their luggage to appear and for the first time since they'd left home she was looking less than certain.
'I know it's silly, but I hadn't realised how emotional I'd feel being back here,' she told him above the noise of the crowd. Thomas arriving back with a trolley and Finn pointing at each and every case, saying 'ours.' An emotion that was set to increase for both of them as their taxi weaved its way through the streets of Central London and came within a stone's throw of where he'd taken Ruth out to dinner. Having already passed so many of the locations, where they'd struggled to have a conversation about anything other than work. Most of which had been on benches in one park or another. Although the most precious and belonged to them alone and why Harry had felt the need to tweak the timeline when he'd been answering Catherine's questions. In particular, when had he realised that he was in love with Ruth and how had he been so certain that she was the person that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with? Was with the certain knowledge that when he'd said to Ruth, 'they'll always be something else Ruth,' as they sat side by side after Jo's death, looking out across the river towards Greenwich, that despite her asking him what do you mean? That she'd acknowledged even before she'd sailed away from him, that he was in love with her. Because before he'd driven her home after their one and only date, that he'd had to go back to the grid. Him having realised that he'd left his phone on his desk and her saying she'd go with him. That they'd walked onto the grid and into each other's arms. Teetering on the brink of taking it further and despite both of them wanting to, that he'd driven her straight home. There was always tomorrow. But for them there had been no tomorrow and within a few weeks they'd be parted. The memory of that kiss, sustaining him throughout the time that she'd been in Cyprus, but with no hope that she'd come back. The sole reason that he'd wanted to tell her that he loved her before she'd left and precisely the reason why Ruth had stopped him. That it had taken another five years for it to happen. Years that had included his extradition and Ruth being forced to disappear. Irrelevant now, but was theirs to remember. And why now as Ruth turned to look at him, he knew that she was remembering that evening.
Thoughts that weren't easy to maintain when their eldest who had his nose pressed to the taxi window, spotted the London Eye and their youngest who was sitting on the drop-down seat facing them, was itching to break free from the lap strap. Thoughts that were rekindled as they crossed Westminster Bridge and turned along the south bank of the river in the direction of their hotel.
.
It had been four years since they'd stayed here. Although when they walked into the foyer, it felt as though they were greeting an old friend. Something that was echoed by the porter who stepped forward to relieve them of their luggage with a cheery, 'welcome back it's good to see you again and if there's anything you need just call reception.'
What they needed was five minutes to get their breath back. What they actually got, was a hug from Thomas, telling them that 'it was awesome.' Referring to the view from the balcony that stretched the length of the lounge on the third floor. One floor up from where they'd stayed on their honeymoon and was why after they unpacked and had a cup of tea to revive them, they took the boys for or a short walk along the embankment to stretch their legs. Deciding on the way back, that rather than have dinner in the restaurant that they'd have dinner in their room. Followed by an early night. Dinner that would be delivered twice. Once for the boys and then later for them. Theirs to include a bottle of wine.
'Listen to that,' Harry told her, when the boys had finally been persuaded to go to bed and they were standing on the balcony overlooking the river.
'I can't hear anything.'
Neither could Harry, but for once he was way ahead of Ruth. Determined that the evening was going to be a memorable one and waiting until Ruth turned towards him before answering her. Words that weren't pre -planned, even if the outcome was inevitable.
'I will always love you Ruth Evershed,' he told her. Reverting to the name that she'd left behind in London, but now somehow felt right. So just for one night, I'd like us to pretend that we're the only two people on earth. When have we ever been able to do that?'
Never as far as Ruth could remember. 'You're not suggesting that we do a runner and abandon our children are you?' she asked him.
'Only for the next hour or so.'
'That's very optimistic of you.'
Optimism that had been well justified, providing an extra spring to Harry's step when they were walking down to breakfast the next morning and with the decision made to install sound proofing when they got home.
Added to which there was a cooked breakfast available and it was light years since he'd had one of those. The table that would be theirs for the duration of their stay was already laid and received another awesome from Thomas and a giggle from Finn, when the waiter asked him what Buster wanted for his breakfast.
Please god we don't lose Buster during the week thought Ruth. Still not able to believe that they were actually here and that so far, they'd escaped any dramas. Apart from the previous night, when Harry had caused fireworks to rain down from the ceiling and memories of a time before they'd had children. Causing her to look across the table to where Harry was going through the menu with Thomas, wondering if it would be wrong to ask Catherine and Chris to take the boys off their hands for a day. Cool as a cucumber to anyone but her, who recognised every expression that crossed his face and what they meant. Including the current one that he was blatantly refusing to hide.
That the reasons she loved Harry, she'd rearranged in order and that at number one, was his ability to turn the clock back. To make her feel younger and to bring back the other Ruth. But this time with the ability to change their destiny.
Dragged out of her daydream when Finn said, 'mummy I need a wee.' Which would in normal circumstances have seen her telling him that he should have gone before he sat down, but now didn't matter, as she pushed her chair back and picked him up. That in the space of one single night, Harry had succeeded in making her determined that nothing was going to phase her, or stop her from enjoying this holiday.
.
Getting around London as tourists with a four-year-old, as opposed to Harry being able to summon his own driver with a flick of his fingers, having already eliminated the underground as a regular means of getting from A to B, provided the next challenge. Solved when the receptionist who had been watching them pouring over the huge map on the wall in the foyer, told them that the hotel had an arrangement with a taxi company, who would pick them up at the door and take them to the destination of their choice for a very competitive price.
And why fifteen minutes later, they were weaving in and out of the traffic and heading in the direction of Tower Bridge, with red buses being the latest thing to have grabbed the boy's attention. Ruth's favourite mode of transport way back then and would have been now. Except that they only had a week and despite all the planning, were on their first day, making it up as they went along. With the Millennium Bridge and St Paul's as a backdrop just around the next corner and did they really want to walk across there again?
'Drop us off here please,' Harry told the driver, answering her question, as he stopped outside the Tate Modern to let people cross in front of them.
Harry did want to walk across the bridge again. To show the boys what for him had been the place where the door had re-opened. When Ruth had told him that they needed to talk. That he was no longer a man who paced, or was dressed in a suit and tie or generally looked stressed, he was a tourist whose time was his own. Out for the day with his family and as such, could walk slowly and take in the views. Until they reached the centre of the bridge which was when his phone beeped. Catherine suggesting that they come to lunch on Saturday and texting him the address. The moorings at Richmond, eight miles from where they were staying and that she'd pick them up at the hotel around ten. He showed Ruth the message, before picking Finn up so that he could see. Just as one of the Pleasure Launches that were ploughing their way along the river caught his eye.
Approaching Tower Bridge and the Tower of London, where they were going to disembark with ease from The Royal Princess, was impressive by anyone's standards and none more so than Harry's. He couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of it before as a means of transport, as he sat back with Finn on his knee and saw the structure of the bridge and the gate where dozens of people through the ages, had sailed in to a certain beheading. Thinking that nothing much had changed and that the world was still a cruel and dangerous place. Grateful that home for them was on a tiny remote island. The innocence of children and long may it continue for theirs.
'Once more into the breach,' he said to Ruth as they watched Thomas take hold of Finn's hand and head off on the direction of the ravens who were being fed. After which they were booked in for a tour of the battlements, when Finn would be the one in heaven.
.
With day one over. 'Come and look at this,' Ruth told Harry. Who to all intents and purposes was entering into the spirit of things, by helping Thomas and Finn with a jigsaw puzzle borrowed from reception. But with little enthusiasm as they waited for six o'clock to come around, which was when their table was booked. Ruth who was using Thomas's tablet and had been looking at The Moorings for five minutes and wondering if she'd found the right place and that the row of huge Victorian Houses with even larger gardens that back onto the Thames, was where Chris lived. If so then school teachers earnt a whole lot more than they were reported to or perhaps Chris still lived with his parents? That either way that they should approach tomorrow with an open mind and be prepared to like Chris.