Harry's well documented self- restraint, was about to face its strongest test. Asking Ruth to marry him, he wanted to keep simple. Unless of course he took the conventional root and went down on one knee, in which case he knew that he'd have to say a great deal more than just 'marry me Ruth'. What was bothering him and was the reason that he hadn't already asked her, was that in order to make the most of the moment and to ensure that it wasn't overshadowed by anything else, he needed to wait until they'd made up their minds about the house. Because each question was an entity in itself and the logical order, was that the decision about the house, had to take precedence over his proposal. Only after that and assuming that Ruth said yes to both, would he be able to relax. Which wasn't going to be easy, now that they had the hotel to themselves and a four-poster bed with crisp white sheets in which to spend a second night. Added to which and God knows why, George's error of proposing to Ruth during sex, had taken up residence at the forefront of his mind. An incentive for him to do things properly if ever there was one. Not to just blurt it out as if it had only just popped into his head, which of course it hadn't. His concerns, if that was the right word, being based on something that Ruth had said about herself.
That she was still the fiercely capable soul she'd been when he'd first met her, he didn't doubt. Or that a chink had developed in that armour, given what had happened to her. But that she'd openly acknowledged that there were still days when she felt vulnerable and had what she'd described as a desperate need for him to look after her, meant that he had to choose his moment wisely. The one person on earth she'd told him, that she could say anything too and know that at some stage along the line it wouldn't be thrown back at her. A loving and understanding husband in the making, not voiced, but he could see she imagined. Because look after her he could and certainly would, but importantly, without suffocating all the wonderful attributes that made her who she was. Her never give up attitude, her a sense of humour, that always won through in the end and of course the sheer magnetism of her appearance, which unlike most women he'd known, she didn't use to get what she wanted.
Which was why, ''I fancy a walk by the river,' he told her when they'd finished dinner. Hoping that the fresh air would help him to get off to sleep more quickly and wake up with a plan that went beyond saying, 'yes we'll buy the house and marry me Ruth,' all in one sentence.
Always up for a walk, Ruth was only too pleased to delay going to bed. Her expectation having seen the house from the outside, meant that if she and Harry did make love, her enthusiasm would be transferred to the bedroom and as a result, it would be over far too quickly. Which wasn't at all what she wanted. Whereas if she could delay it happening, because happen it would, it might last long enough that she'd be able to sleep afterwards. Because Harry was in a word, perfection in that department, especially if she could persuade him to take his time.
The only trouble with both their theories, was that after half an hour of walking beside the river, the desire to do more than lean against a tree, where Harry kissed Ruth in a way that suggested he was thinking about the night to come and she responded by adjusting her body, to suggest that she was as well, was that they had to walk back again. More than a mile in the sultry heat of the evening, preventing them from speeding up. Causing an ever-increasing desire, that when they did get back to the hotel, saw them fumbling for the key to the front door with one eye on who might be watching them, which of course amounted to no one. Until they eventually, tumbled would be the best way to describe it, into their room, where they fulfilled at least Harry's expectation.
'How do I describe that in the diary?' Ruth asked him, presumably joking or at least he hoped so, when he was lying flat on his back and gazing at the ceiling. Taking in huge gulps of air, with all thoughts about what tomorrow might bring, having been obliterated by what had just happened.
'Just draw a smiley face and a lot of stars,' he told her, forcing himself to turn onto his side so that he was facing her. Not easy to do when he had all the appearances and energy of a spent starfish. The reference to a diary from Ruth, though how she'd got the energy to speak he had no idea, was that she'd decided to keep a daily record, once they settled on somewhere to live. The 'are you sure this is the house you want' conversation, still to be had, but by what she'd just said, inferred that she'd made up her mind, which of course she had. What he hadn't banked on was Ruth persuading him that he had the energy to go down what he could only describe as the best road he'd ever trodden for a second time, which meant that it came as no surprise when they woke up in the morning, it was to find that they'd overslept and needed to contact Valerie to ask if their appointment could be put back by an hour. It was either that or miss breakfast and they were both ravenously hungry.
.
Not that it mattered, because it was a very calm Valerie who was waiting for them, when they climbed the final set if steps and apologised for being late.
'You take as long as you want, I've got all the time in the world,' she told them, opening the front door and inviting them to go in ahead of her. Before opening what was a second door, a verbal one, by telling them that she'd spoken to the owners and explained their situation. A Parisian couple, who providing they didn't delay their decision beyond a week and signed the appropriate paperwork, that they'd pretty much accept any sort of deal. More than that, the furniture was included in the asking price. Furniture which as they went from room to room, several times to convince themselves that they weren't dreaming, suited the house and more importantly was in good condition. None of the muddy footprints that Valerie had referred to. Ending up in what was a farmhouse style kitchen, put in by the owners no more than four years ago apparently and large enough to accommodate what Harry estimated to be eight people around the dining room table. Visions of the party after their wedding, causing him to drift off into the distance and only when Valerie suggested she make them a of a cup of coffee, did he come back.
'I know this is a huge decision and something that you need to talk about on your own, so if you sign this, I can leave you with the keys. You'll need to drop them into the office before we close at four,' she told them.
Tempting Harry to say all sorts of things. Firstly, to Ruth, 'can you imagine being left with the keys to a house and told to drop them into the office, if you were looking at a house in London,' and to Valerie, 'we'll see you long before four.' Instead saying, 'thank you,' as he signed the slip of paper and watched the keys, potentially their keys, land on the kitchen worktop in front of him.
'I can't believe this,' Ruth told him. Not talking about being entrusted with the keys, but having read from cover to cover the why's and wherefores of buying a house in France which had been described as simple, now knowing it was true. Something that she'd seriously considered for herself when she'd left the UK. That and finding what they wanted so quickly and quite honestly, was in her opinion and she was sure Harry's as well, the perfect house. Yes, it was in a remote location and being so high up, three hundred meters above the river according to the details, would undoubtably present some problems in the winter. But that meant a challenge and she and Harry had always coped with challenges. Besides, they weren't a sit down and put your feet up sort of couple, well not yet and they'd be bored stiff if they didn't have something to do every day. Which after they'd finished their coffee and now that Valerie had gone, saw them opening and closing cupboard doors, drawers and looking in every other nook and cranny to see what else they were inheriting.
That done, they went back outside and opened the door to what was described in the details as the guest accommodation. A small barn that had been converted by the current owners and according to the visitor's book, which strategically or not was lying on the coffee table, brought in additional income during the summer months. People who if they took the same route as the current owners, would come and go. Something that for however many months they chose to do it, would ensure that they themselves didn't turn into unsociable hermits.
All of which resulted in him saying, 'this is just perfect isn't it,' when they were sitting on the patio and gazing out across the valley. Not a sound, apart from a tractor in the distance and a herd of cattle who were grazing in an adjacent field. Ruth who had been the one to comment as they gone from room to room, now very quiet, responding by smiling and saying, 'it is.' The simplest of answers, but combined with the way that she was looking at him, the face that had been etched behind his eyes during those awful years without her, saw his resolve shattering. His legs propelling him upwards and turning to face the woman he loved, before getting down on one knee. Ruth's face a picture that he knew would stay with him for the rest of his life, as was her saying, 'yes Harry', in answer to both his questions.
.
That it would be another month before the house was legally theirs, but that they could move in soon as they'd signed a legally binding agreement to buy, together with a deposit, started off a succession of trips to shops that they'd never had gone into, if this had just been a holiday. Buying simple but essential things, such as light bulbs and a torch. Candles in case of power cuts, towels and bedlinen and a multitude of other things, as the list had grown rather than diminish. Most of which they bought in the small town of Espalion. More than double the size of the village where they signed the required paperwork the following day and where Harry had booked a table for dinner. In what according to the information pack in the house, something that was proving very useful for all sorts of reasons, was the best restaurant in the area. Somewhere that they could celebrate what had miraculously happened, almost without them realising it, such was the speed in which things were happening. The weight of the world, which had lived on his shoulders for decades, buried the instant that Ruth had said 'yes'.
The restaurant living up to its reputation. Not only because it had a creative menu that made it difficult to choose what to eat, but the intimate atmosphere that Harry so wanted. Where despite being full, the cleverly arranged tables created an illusion, so that each and every party, or couple in their case, had the feeling of being on their own. An evening, when they'd finished their meal and had driven home, not only was Ruth wearing a ring, but September had been replaced by October. A month during which what were left of the leaves on the trees, turned from green to gold and in the case of the chestnuts which made up more than half in the valley, to a burnt orange. When the house with the extra things that they bought and continued to do so, became familiar. Where they settled into life at a pace that suited them and took it one day at a time.
.
Although not everything fell into place as they'd planned it. The timing of their wedding was the first thing that had to be rearranged, because as they discovered when they'd gone to register, Christmas in France was when the country shut down. At least bureaucratical side did. For two weeks that took them into the New Year and beyond.
The shops and the markets of course did stay open, right up until the last moment on Christmas Eve. A Christmas that they were now going to spend on their own. Something which when they adjusted to the idea that they weren't going to married by then, they were looking forward to. More so, because when Harry had called Paul to confirm the date, Paul had told him that for reasons best known to army, the dates for his posting had been changed. That if they'd been getting married that when they'd originally planned, that he and Ellie wouldn't have been able to come. Whereas now, when it was pencilled in for late January, it would be fine. That the boys who were going to a boarding school, would be well and truly settled in so wouldn't be able to come, but Maddie of course would.
Which when all was said and done, left them more time to plan. To enjoy Christmas and before that the run up. When the village was transformed overnight, with what were elaborate decorations given its size. Strung across the high street in the form of angels and shepherds. With a small Christmas tree outside every shop, competing not surprisingly in its decoration, with its neighbours on either side.
The market square where they were now shopping as though they were locals, lit by coloured lights and with a giant tree in one corner. Combined with Christmas music from the sound system, transcending both the nation that they'd left behind and the one where they now lived, as Santa Claus is coming to town, rang out.
Where Harry's tentative suggestion, that they could have spent Christmas in Paris, not by any means rejected, when Ruth replied by saying, 'will you be upset if we put it on hold?'
To which he replied, 'of course not,' and meant it. With the expectation of waking up on Christmas morning in the own house, a positive one and with the decision that to visit Paris in the Spring, when the blossom would be on the trees, would be a wonderful way to celebrate her birthday.
A conversation when they were having coffee, in the same café where they'd sat on that first day that they'd arrived here. Two days before Christmas and one month to the day from their wedding.