One phone call in a whole week and that had been from him to Malcolm. Which implied not so subtly that they were managing without him? In contrast to one night sharing a bed with Ruth which has changed his evaluation on how life might be if he wasn't steering the ship. If they were together. A couple in every sense of the word. Free from the responsibilities that he'd imagined would see him out, whereas now he was vowing to take more care of himself.

And yes, he'd been careful at first, hesitant even. With no suggestion either verbal or by his actions that she was anything other than special. Until the clamour from the street had died down and with it, a coming together that was not only long overdue, but so very much worth the wait.

Now with the first light of a new day, he's putting to memory every glorious detail from the previous combined needs finally satisfied beyond anything he's ever experienced and that includes the years spent with his ex-wife. Which means that the extent to which he loves Ruth has reached the point where he's doubly determined to tell her.

.

Waking up from what has been a dream free sleep, it's to hear what sounds like milk bottles being delivered to doorsteps. Muffled voices in the street, which until Ruth turns over and rubs her eyes, rekindles childhood memories of holidays by the sea with Peter and her parents. Which are quickly overtaken by remembering what happened the previous night. That and as she can hear a kettle boiling, suggests that room service has been replaced by the man whose causing her to smile as her body reacts yet again to the thought of what happened. Good together in bed she'd previously had to imagine. Just how good she now knows and then some, during a night which had been made all the more magical because it had been their first time.

Facing each other with nothing but the gentle glow from the street light as a means to see each other, with him propped up on one elbow, his free hand hovering in mid-air as though he'd believed that if he touched her, she'd claim she was tired, or worse still had changed her mind, hadn't surprised her. What had and had been born out of sheer frustration on her part, was that having come this far and as the seconds had ticked by, that she'd taken his free hand in hers and guided it to where they both wanted it to be. Shocking herself in the process and causing her to close her eyes rather than to see what she knew would be an expression of astonishment on his face. At the same time as reminding herself that this moment was long overdue. Her chance to prove to him how wrong he'd been. When he'd leaned in, his breath ghosting against her cheek. Suggesting he was a limited man. That self- control and self- denial was all that mattered.

A combination of thoughts which made for a very late breakfast and meant that this time when they drove away from the hotel, their intention was to concentrate on where they were going, rather than to get side tracked into wondering what was going to happen when bedtime rolled round once again. Which wasn't easy bearing in mind that they were both still reeling from what had happened and if not voicing it, were creating an atmosphere that wasn't conducive to following the directions on Ruth's phone. That and because the higher up they drove the snow was getting deeper and with it the visibility reducing. Until they found themselves taking an altogether different route because the signal on Ruth's phone had completely disappeared.

Just as well then that they weren't under pressure to get anywhere particular and were happy thought Harry, who for the second time was picturing his ex – wife in similar circumstances balling him out for getting lost and Juliet who would have insisted that she should have been driving and not him. Neither of which were likely to apply to Ruth he thought, even when they skidded to a halt when the road came to an abrupt end in what looked to be a farmyard.

Where ten minutes later they found themselves sitting in front of a roaring fire, with Ruth explaining to the young couple who owned what at first glance had looked to be far too large a house for just a couple, that they were on holiday and hadn't expected so much snow to fall so quickly. That and with what was becoming a customary wave of her hand, that they were heading for the border with France where they were going to meet up with some friends at the weekend. Him quite happy to sit back and listen to this new confident Ruth engaging in a conversation, which resulted in them being offered accommodation for the night.

Thanking them whilst protesting that they couldn't foist themselves at such short notice, was rejected out of hand and not just because the nearest hotel was twenty miles away. Which left them with no option other than to accept and to spend what was left of the day and night in an environment that was so removed from what they were used to, that it allowed any tension that might have been lingering as to what might be in store when they actually reached their final destination to evaporate.

'Please you must let us help,' saw Harry being offered a pair of boots and following Anton, husband or partner to Louisa they hadn't yet established, outside into the bitter cold to check on the cattle which he'd earlier brought into one of what looked to be several barns. While Ruth was presented with a veggie peeler and a selection of home-grown veg. Normality in Harry's case being as so far removed from what he usually did, that once he got used to the smell and wondering if they'd be eating beef in any shape or form whilst they were there, chose to assume that not hearing back from Malcolm was a good thing. Instead following his host who amongst a pile of unrelated items that were piled up in a corner, produced a tarpaulin which he insisted he put over their car. Before ignoring Harry's protest that he wasn't cold by telling him to go back to the house. Which he did by entering what he thought was the same door, before kicking off the boots and put them in the corner below where Ruth's coat was hanging alongside several others. Confronted by three doors, his second attempt found him in the kitchen where Ruth who had finished peeling the veggies was standing at the sink doing something that was as mundane as wiping down the worktops. Not extraordinary in itself, but gave him a brief look at domesticity and what life could be like if they too had a home together.

What he didn't know as he watched her drying her hands, sighing as she did so, was that she was way ahead of him and had been since she'd peeled the first potato. She'd always enjoyed cooking, but never seemed to get the time to do it. Well not in any meaningful way. Work she'd thought and not for the first time, apart from spending time with Harry, had in so many ways, prevented her reaching so many of the goals that she'd set herself. Not though her ability to recognise his footfall anywhere, even in heavily sock clad feet, when a blast of cold air which had accompanied the door opening had died down.

The fire was crackling in the grate. They were alone for how long he didn't know. But tell Harry Pearce that he couldn't do anything at your peril, saw him walking up behind her and daring to ask if she needed any help? Waiting for the indignant response that didn't come, he was rewarded with a look that in a way set the tone for the evening.

Which as the hours clicked by became the most relaxed that they'd spent since they'd left London. Largely because during dinner, their host in response to Harry asking how long they'd lived there and were the winters always as cold as this? Had been quite happy to tell them, that he and Louisa had met when they'd both been working in Zurich in the banking sector. Which had required them to work long hours and as a consequence when they'd got home, they'd been too tired to do anything other than to eat and fall into bed. Ignoring the startling similarities or commenting that they knew how they felt, they went on to learn that when Anton's father had died, the farm where he'd grown up had been left to them. Doubtful at first as to what to do, they'd taken a month's leave during which they'd made the decision to move here permanently. Trial and a lot of errors along the way, but with support from their neighbours and they'd never been happier. Besides there was nothing like being your own boss. Especially during the spring and summer, when the fields and hedgerows were covered in flowers.

Which of course prompted the question as to what he and Ruth did?

Unable to say a job that means we don't normally get any time to ourselves either or give the impression that they were anything less than a conventional couple who had been together for years, 'nothing as enterprising as this,' said Harry. 'We both work in London in a very average office pushing paper around our desks.'

Leaving Ruth to answer the next question from Louisa. 'And your boss, what's he or maybe it's a she like?'