Catherine's response to what Finn had asked Ruth was heartfelt. So much so, that Harry instantly regretted mentioning it. Especially as there was no guarantee that they'd be granted permission to adopt him, despite them having the indomitable Miss. Harrington on their side. For the simple reason that Finn's birth mother was still very much alive and as such had been contacted. Protocol gone mad in his opinion, but what did he know? Which meant that all they could do was to pray that when they arrived at the hearing in a month's time, was a sentence that he couldn't bring himself to finish.
Trying to blank out the awful picture of their home without Finn and the effect that it would have, not only on the entire family but on Finn himself, he failed to adhere to the well know phrase, quit while your ahead. When changing the subject, he told Catherine that they were visiting Thames House in the morning, resulting in the previous I want to model myself on you Dad face of Chris's imagination, to be replaced by a look that he'd hoped he'd never see again. When she'd been about the same age as Thomas was now and he'd disappeared for hours or sometimes days, more than often than not to find solace with someone other than her mother.
Something that caused Ruth, who up until then had been curled up on the sofa, with no involvement other than to watch and listen, to wonder how the atmosphere had gone from one extreme to another in the space of a single sentence? Deciding that if she didn't step in and put a stop to it, that poor Chris who had gone to the bathroom, would return to find himself embroiled in a totally unnecessary family discussion, about something he knew nothing about and more importantly would struggle to understand. Added to which, Catherine was behaving like a petulant child. A side of her, that she presumed Chris hadn't witnessed.
'This needs to stop now,' she told her, with more force than she intended. Acknowledging that it would take a great deal more than this, for Catherine to accept that she speaking to her and not to both of them. But that she had to continue, if for no other reason than Harry looked visibly shaken. 'Whatever you're imagining Catherine you're mistaken,' in her head anyway, sounded better than telling Catherine she was wrong. Because the only reason that they were visiting Thames House tomorrow, was because Thomas had asked them to show him where they used to work. 'You know our history as much as anyone does, so why you think that we'd want to go back to a place that holds so many bad memories, is beyond me?' Was stopping just short of telling Catherine that it was none of her business what she and Harry got up and to keep her voice down. The expression on Harry's face now, a mixture of amused admiration and relief.
'Have I missed anything?' Asked Chris, reappearing in the nick of time.
.
'Just like the old days, you coming to my rescue,' a still grateful Harry told Ruth, once Catherine and Chris had gone home and they were finally able to go to bed. Catherine having apologised to Ruth when they'd popped into the boy's bedroom to say goodnight to Thomas, telling her that she had a lot on her mind, whatever that meant, leaving Harry and Chris to have a nightcap and a chat that told Harry he was going to pop the question in the morning.
A morning when another discussion got underway, equally important, in that it involved which shirt Harry ought to wear for the visit to Thames House.
'The blue one,' Ruth told him. Thinking what a shame it was that they wouldn't be allowed to go up onto the roof terrace, but if they had, that she'd have struggled to keep her hands to herself.
'Are you sure?' asked Harry, who was holding one of two choices, the other being grey, but as in most cases these days, was going to let Ruth have her way.
'Listen to her Dad,' from Thomas who took very little interest in what his dad did or didn't wear and in this case, had been looking at the clock for what already felt like days. Not knowing that the discussion was a time filler for his parents, who having spent the best part of four days behaving like tourists with not a care in the world and despite the bravado of the previous evening, and in Ruth case lying to Catherine without knowing it, actually going to Thames House rather than planning to go to Thames House, was causing a certain amount of nervous excitement for both of them. The discussion about what Harry should or shouldn't wear a distraction, instigated by Harry to stop Ruth from returning to the events of the previous evening and putting two and two together. Her having taken no part in the arrangements and apart from knowing that they had been invited to arrive at eleven, completely in the dark. Whereas he knew exactly what was planned and that the visit had been timed for him to take as long as he wanted it to. A National emergency of any kind withstanding. A call from reception to tell them that their taxi had arrived, finally forcing them to make a move and in Harry's case, knowing he would be faced with one of two possibilities. Physical rejection for as long as Ruth could resist him, or the night he had planned.
Their taxi driver, the same one who had taken them to Tower Bridge on the first day, was as cheery now as he had been then and showed no signs recognising the destination for what it was, when he dropped them within fifty metres of the front door. Of the building that held no memories for the two boys, but for them was resonating in their heads like a symphony orchestra approaching the climax. Increasing in its volume, until they were standing at the bottom of the oh familiar steps. At which point, without thought and to Ruth's huge relief, Harry's hand closed around hers. In complete contrast to when they'd left here more than five years ago. Harry to face extradition and near death and Ruth to what she'd believed at the time, to be a second exile from which there would be no way back. Now climbing the steps as a family, Harry's other hand involuntarily reaching up to straighten a non-existent tie and Ruth's to hold Finns, for the reassure that his small frame always gave her.
.
Most things changed over a period of time, so it came as no surprise that the layout of the grid was different. As were most of the personnel who either had their eyes glued to their screens or were buried in paperwork. Either way, no one looked up to acknowledge who they were. Ruth's eyes though as they always had been, were instantly drawn to what had once been Harry's office, which apart from being empty looked exactly the same. Only looking away, when Dimitri appeared from what had once been Malcolm's domain to greet them. One of Harry's staunchest supporters who in the interim had been promoted to Section Chief. Now with a seriousness about him that suggested he took his new job seriously, but with the same twinkle in his eye, that had marked him out as having as sense of humour and as someone who was pleased to see them again.
'Callum's moved on,' he told them both, but Harry in particular. Harry who of course already knew this and was relieved that he didn't have to spend the morning, in the company of the bastard who had messed with his daughter's head, when he'd chosen to come back to work here. 'Erin's moved over to Six,' he continued to a relieved Ruth. Knowing that she'd never really taken to Harry's replacement and why and that whoever had got the job, apart from perhaps Adam, would have been unworthy in Ruth's eyes. Before ushering the couple, who had somehow in the intervening years acquired two children, through the swing doors and along the corridor, until they were standing in front of the door to the meeting room.
Which left only once question, the answer to which Harry of course knew and was the single reason that they'd been allowed access to the inner sanctum. The grown-up version of whose been sitting in my chair.
Having assumed that she'd be faced by Erin, Ruth no longer cared who the Section Head was. What she got, was a surprise that almost caused her to stop breathing. Tom Quinn, as large as life, sitting at the end of the table as though he'd never been away.
'Wheels within wheels,' he explained to Ruth, when her legs finally allowed her to walk to a chair and sit down. Her last memory of Tom having seen her weeping buckets, when Harry had decommissioned him. Resurrected to the dizzy heights of Section Head, because in his words, 'they'd been desperate,' Ruth doubted very much. Whilst at the same time wondering why Harry hadn't told her. Watching him pouring cups of tea and coffee, in the same way that Sam had done all those years ago. With an innocent look on his face, that suggested that this wasn't the last surprise that he had up his sleeve. Given the chance to ask him, when Dimitri came back in to the room and told Tom that he was needed elsewhere, but deciding that she'd leave it until later, because the boys who she'd temporarily forgotten existed, were within earshot were looking between her and Harry. Only to be struck completely dumb, as was Harry, although he made a far better job of hiding it than she did, when Thomas asked them if Wes had ever been in here?
Wes? Asked Harry in his head, as Ruth pushed the plate of biscuits towards Finn without telling him that he mustn't eat them all.
'Why would Wes have been in here?' Harry finally managed, clutching at invisible straws to buy himself some time. Thinking back to the one and only time that Thomas had met Wes. Which was at least four years ago, when Malcolm had brought him with him on one of his impromptu visits. Trying to remember how much time the two boys had spent together and second guess what Wes might have told Thomas, or more importantly why?
He didn't have to wait long, because what came next was a matter of fact explanation, that began with 'I know what goes on here Dad,' and finished, 'I know you were a good spy because Wes told me everything.' The infill almost entirely about Adam and Fiona and how sad it was that Wes didn't have a mum and dad, completely ignored, as they both tried to assimilate what Thomas meant by everything?
'Everything alright?' asked the adult Tom, as though he was bloody psychic or had been listening outside the door, arriving back and preventing any more revelations about what Harry had or hadn't done. Before telling them that if they wanted to take the boys up to the roof terrace to look at the view, then he'd make sure that they weren't disturbed. A suggestion that caused Ruth to look at Harry, who just smiled back at her, with an expression on his face that told her that this entire visit had been pre planned, revelations excepting. But after what had just transpired, that she'd forgive him anything.
A feeling that continued as they climbed the back stairs and Harry pushed open the door. Ushering the boys towards the railings, with strict instructions to Finn that he had to hold Thomas's hand and that he wasn't to lean through. Thomas as calm as he'd been all day, with no idea as to the turmoil that he'd caused by what he'd said, or the variety of conversations that had taken place here, all with the same barely concealed undercurrent. Only interested in pointing out to his baby brother all the buildings that he recognised.
Which left Harry and Ruth alone to deal with their memories. Of dancing bread rolls, of the meal that had followed and the discussion about Harry's planned Grand Tour. At a time when everything had seemed possible. To be replaced by so many missed colleagues and friends, whose deaths had sent them up here to comfort each other. Away from the prying eyes on the grid. A huge percentage of which were closed now and would never reopen.
This though wasn't a time for sadness, it was a time for a different goodbye and for one last kiss. In a place where a sign appeared in the sky every night when the stars came out. Proclaiming that these few metres of concrete had always belonged to them. For a kiss that Harry had been planning from the moment that Thomas had asked them if they could come here. To form a tableau, that surely even the worst of their enemies would have conceded they deserved, when with the boys standing in front of them, Harry closed a chapter on their previous life.
.
Tom had been the one to see them off, making them promise that they'd keep in touch. So different from the last time when he'd told Harry that he'd never see him again, before a nod that told Harry that he'd arranged what he'd asked him to do. Which meant that if Ruth was under any illusion that this was the last surprise before they flew home, then she'd be wrong. Harry had always been a fixer and in this case had planned one final hurrah for their final evening.
'Use my title if you have to, but tell them that we don't want any fuss or special treatment,' he'd told Tom, when he'd suggested that it might be a bit short notice. Adding 'he's called Buster,' when the teddy bear in question had waved to his once Section Chief. Before telling Tom that they always booked for five.
That was for tomorrow, for now they needed to find somewhere to get some lunch. Not easy to do when they were already running late and was why they ended up in Regent's Park. Only remembering when they arrived at the gates that there was a zoo. Not their place of choice, but conceding that as so many species were endangered these days, that it was somewhere that they ought to take the boys. Especially as ghastly and inhumane cages, had been replaced by habitats, that despite being small, represented the animal's natural habitat.
'Lunch first, animals second,' announced Harry, regaining control, when Buster who had been out of his backpack was put back in.
Lunch which outside and after the confines of the grid, was enjoyable and they stretched out until the inevitable, 'please can we go now?' from Thomas.
Thomas the decision maker who Finn generally followed, surprisingly ignored when without deferring to his older brother, he grabbed Ruth's hand and pointed in the direction of one of the smaller attractions. An excited group of penguins, who according to the announcement, were about to be fed. A small percentage of whom were vying for position on a rocky outcrop, while others, who had worked out that the best way to achieve what they wanted quickly, was to stay in the water. Splashing about like a mass of miniature waiters without lifejackets. Much more fun in Ruth's opinion and a perfect distraction from whatever else was on offer.
'Much better if you've got a little one like yours,' said one half of a couple who were also holding tight to their own small child's hand, budging up so that she and Finn could squeeze in between them. Which left Harry to go in search of whatever it was that Thomas wanted to look at, with a shout of 'I'll meet you back here in an hour.' Wondering if this might be a good moment to re-introduce the conversation that Wes had had with Thomas? Deciding that on balance and because he didn't want to spoil what was turning out to be a very enjoyable day, that it would be better to wait until they got home, or better still let sleeping dogs lie.
.
Until the evening when the boys who were dressed for bed, were eking out the time by watching a cartoon and he and Ruth were tidying up in an effort to stay awake and he asked her if she was happy. Not having had the heart to tell the boys to go to bed, when it was still daylight and they'd been thanked endlessly for the day.
'If you're referring to your ability to organise today and keep me completely in the dark, then ultimately yes,' she told him. With the inference that if they ever got to bed, he'd find out just how much she appreciated what he'd done and was the reason that he decided to turn his phone off.
Only to discover when he turned it back on when he was making the morning tea, with Ruth still asleep, that he had two messages. The first from Catherine asking him to call her. Presumably to tell him what he already knew, that Chris had asked her to marry him. The second from Jane. Asking him to meet her, but with no clue as to the reason. More than that though, there was an edge to her voice. Which on the last day before they flew home was the last thing he needed from his ex-wife.
Something that was taken out of his hands during breakfast. When he was forced to concede that she had a point.