Scarlet was used to the varying lengths of absences when her master left her with this person or that person. In the early years, before she'd got used to what were sometimes weeks when he was away, she'd worried that he wouldn't come back at all. He always had though. She'd also got used to his varying moods, so had learnt when to greet him enthusiastically or to just keep her head down and go back to her basket. Today she recognised was a going to be a good day. Actually, come to think of it, they'd all be good days since Ruth had come onto the scene. She'd got used to Ruth and she liked her and not only because it had stopped her master from talking to himself, or to her for that matter. It wasn't as though she was able to answer his questions, although she had to admit that despite his inclination to be grumpy, he'd never been anything other than patient with her. His little sounding board he called her, whatever that was?

Just as important if not more so, was that the loneliness which had been his only other companion had been replaced by a smile. Especially when he and Ruth were planning on having an early night. Unlike her who slept for a good deal of the day as well. Just another of life's mysteries that she'd never understood.

Leading her to conclude that humans, especially ones like her master, who never abandoned their dogs, unlike some she'd met and had conversations with on their daily walks, just needed to find the right person to love and be loved in return.

.

The shopping that they'd bought in various shops before they'd left Beer, were things that they hadn't been able to buy in the village. Bulk buying mainly, for essentials like dog food and things that could go into the cupboards, such as jars of coffee, packets of teabags and breakfast cereal. The large packet of toilet rolls suggesting that they had a family of their own, which they didn't although it felt as though they did. The turkey and all the usual trimmings, were fresh and they'd bought from the butcher that Alice had recommended, along with a Christmas cake and mince pies which she'd made herself. Sufficient to ensure that with three extra mouths to feed they'd have enough, was anyone's guess? Not so a last-minute decision which had seen them buying some Christmas decorations with Catherine and Wes in mind and of course a tree.

Lightening the mood even further, they'd laughed their way through what had turned out to be a lengthy session in a shop that sold outdoor clothing for all weathers and outdoorsy pursuits. Designed to be functional, not to make you look good. Ruth at one stage emerging from behind a mirror wearing a jacket that had swamped her given how slight she was until the very helpful assistant had found one that fitted. That and with a sturdy pair of boots, that had Ros been with them, would have received her arse kicking seal of approval. The tables being turned, when Harry had been trying on woolly hats, one of which he'd bought along with a coat that really did suit him according to Ruth, who had added rugged to the adjectives that now applied to the man that had turned her life on its head. But not before there had been a long discussion about another hat, as to the colour and whether because it had a bobble on the top, made him look manly enough, when they'd been highjacked by some elderly pensioners who were trying to decide what to buy their grandson, so had asked Harry if he'd try it on so that they could see what it looked like? Pea on a drum, bearing in mind that their grandson was a slightly built eleven-year-old, but this newly evented Harry had gone along with it.

Ruth eventually rescuing him from being invited for a cup of coffee for his trouble, by saying, 'they really needed to go.'

.

Given its size, it was hard to make a Range Rover looked cluttered, but as the wind was whipping up again and with the threat of rain, they bundled rather than stacked the last of their purchases into the car. A good deal of which was occupying the back seat along with Scarlet. Shopping wasn't her thing or his up until now and she had no idea what they'd bought, or was particularly interested unless it was food.

'Not that this will stop you carrying Scarlet when she gets tired,' said Ruth, who had hung onto the small bag which contained the padded coat that they'd bought in the pet shop and was now inspecting it.

They were driving up the hill out of Beer with the heater full on. Ruth who felt the cold, far more than Harry did, was tempering the excitement that she was feeling now that they were going home, by thinking about Harry's relationship with his dog. How happy he'd been when Scarlet had padded out to greet him. Her tail wagging twenty to the dozen as he'd picked her up. How he always bought her a Christmas present, she hadn't known.

'Of course, it's what a dog of her standing expects,' he said in a voice that suggested that she knew he was a softie when it came to his beloved dog. A dog who was no longer picking out the few words that she did recognise, because she was asleep and dreaming about terrorising cats.

Presents for each other, Harry had managed to persuade Ruth should wait until the New Year when they'd have more time. The blue paper that he'd bought was to pack the presents that they'd bought for Wes, she'd gone along with, if not entirely accepted.

The new clothes that were inside the carrier bags that were surrounding Scarlet, were because they both wanted to be hands-on when it came to sorting out the overgrown garden and when they went for what were likely to be muddy walks. Harry who was more than happy to let Adam do the really hard work, but still wanted to be involved. Not to be seen as a person that had ambition, but when the going got tough would bail out. His planned retirement, didn't mean that he was going to be reaching for a pipe and slippers because he was bored or more importantly over the proverbial hill. In the same way as people bought pets for Christmas with the imagination of a gnat. Not apparently realising that they had to be fed and walked, or would cost you bills at the vets for the rest of their lives.

OK, so he'd had to pay someone to look after his garden in London, whereas now he was looking forward to using his not inconsiderable body strength to do something practical, with the odd exception, mindful of what Rob their neighbour had said about the masses of nettles along one of the borders and how on his long list of talents, was that he was qualified to persuade vermin to move on. A small but guaranteed fact where there was water close by. Something that he hadn't mentioned to Ruth and didn't intend to. Adam yes. In fact, he could imagine Adam and certainly Scarlet despite her age, weighing in, but Ruth, Catherine and Wes absolutely not.

.

Home Sweet Home was the welcome message on the doormat where they'd left their shoes. Neither of them needing to say that although it was an old-fashioned sentiment it described exactly how they felt. Or was it surprising that it was now when Ruth's resolved to remain calm failed her. Surrounded by boxes and bags and with a million and one things to do, she flung herself into Harry's arms. Passion in a porch almost resulting in Harry owning up to her there and then, was prevented by a knock on the front door.

'Mr. Pearce?' asked the postman who introduced himself as Mark, handing over the letter from Harry's solicitor that needed to be signed for.

The furniture that they'd inherited, was functional rather than comfortable and in most cases would need to be replaced over time. Ruth telling Catherine that there might be an element of camping involved bore that out. Although it did, in a bizarre sort of way, continue to make this moment and the approaching Christmas, feel all the more special. As though they were respecting the memory of the family who had lived here before them, whilst at the same time, looking forward to building new memories.

Putting the furniture to one side, more than adequate applied to the large collection of pots, pans and assorted paraphernalia that filled the kitchen cupboards and drawers. Also, someone, they didn't know who yet but intended to find out and thank them, had been given the job of cleaning every inch of the house.

All things which when they'd viewed the house the first time had gone over their heads, but now when they were opening and closing cupboards, in the same way that children would when they were searching for Christmas presents ahead of the day, only served to heighten the realisation that everything they were looking at belonged to them.

'I'll put the kettle on, while you deal with that,' Ruth told him, her feet back on the ground and the happy tears occupying Harry's handkerchief. Harry who had looked through a pile of instruction booklets and was turning pages in the one that told him how to control the temperature on the wood burning stove in the sitting room, while she was going to organise some lunch. Beans of toast, bought with Wes in mind, but because it was easy to prepare and they were hungry, set the tone for the next couple of days. Their very own version of country life, learning as they went along, how different it was from the flick a switch method in modern houses.

.

'You will be careful when you use this?' The ever-cautious Malcolm told Adam, handing over the chainsaw that Adam was borrowing when he was helping him load his car. Malcolm who was not only totally invested in Harry and Ruth getting the happy ever after that they deserved, but wanted to contribute in any way he could. The only person that Adam knew who had a large and beautifully kept garden which had seen him accumulating the tools that were required to keep it so. Much in the same way that he could produce whatever was required of him on the grid. Harry having rung Adam the previous evening to ask what time they were setting off and to tell him to drive carefully, mentioning for no reason other than they'd watched in amazement a dead tree come down, virtually in slow motion and that they'd have to find a way to move it.

'Malcolm?' asked Adam seeing another question on Malcolm's face.

'You're not thinking of cutting and running as well, are you?

'As well?'

'Come on Adam, we both know that Harry's not coming back. I did the paperwork remember.'

'I have every incentive to do so,' was said with a glance towards Wes, 'but no I'll be back Malcolm. Wasn't enough to convince Malcolm who was also considering his future and whether he really wanted to be part of a team that didn't included his friends, might see him retiring as well. That somewhere there was another cottage that had his name over the door.

Later the same day.

Harry had driven off to meet Catherine who was arriving on the last train, so after Wes had gone to bed, Adam and Ruth were sitting in front of the fire, compiling a list of what needed to be done, having had a look around the garden. For the sole reason that Adam needed to be kept busy, he'd told them.

Adam who had contrived a way to bring her and Harry together, not perhaps to the point where they had bought a house in the country with all the appearances of having been together for years rather than a few months. Blissfully happy if anyone had asked her as was Harry. In complete contrast to Adam who had had his life torn apart in the space of a few days and despite having convinced everyone that he was coping, clearly wasn't, Ruth had picked up on as soon as she'd seen him.

'You can talk to me you know that don't you?' She told him, watching the firelight which was creating shadows on Adam's face as she handed him a glass of wine.

'I do and I want to. But I need to get through Christmas first and make it as normal as I can for Wes. Dressing the tree, wrapping presents. Having fun. Fiona always took care of that side of things and made it special. He's my son Ruth and I should be able to cope.'

'You're also a spook Adam and we both know what that does to us.'

'So, what's the answer then, I'm assuming you've got one?'

'You once told us to let things crinkle out, remember? When Tom shot Harry. When I was all over the place and Zoe and Danny were arguing. Look I know it's not the same and never will be for you. But we're not on the grid now. You don't have to pretend that everything's alright when it isn't. This Christmas was always going to be a difficult one for you and Wes, but you don't have to do this on your own. We can make it as conventional or as unconventional as you like. Although maybe we should save the chainsaw massacre until Boxing Day.'