Ruth waited in the kitchen, swallowing down a gin and tonic while Harry went to open the door. She insisted he go so she could stir the sauce they'd been preparing to go with the roast Harry had just taken out of the oven. The table was set. They would have drinks while the meat rested, and then they'd sit down to have their meal together.
She was looking forward to seeing Malcolm. She'd been looking forward to seeing him all week. But now that he had rung the doorbell and the moment was upon them that someone other than Harry and Ruth themselves would know about their engagement, she suddenly felt like she was going to be sick. Drinking down alcohol like this probably wasn't smart, but she couldn't be bothered, honestly.
"Hello, Harry. It's wonderful to see you. Thank you for inviting me," Ruth heard Malcolm say as he entered.
"Oh thank you," Harry answered. "We're having roast for dinner, so this will go wonderfully. Please come in. Ruth's in the kitchen." She presumed Malcolm handed Harry a bottle of wine.
"Is she?" Malcolm responded with a knowing grin in his voice.
Ruth felt another wave of nausea. The memory of that tone, the look on his face when Malcolm had called Ruth a dark horse. The old feelings all came flooding back, the insecurity and cowardice, it all threatened to overwhelm her. Ruth shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath. "Buck up, Evershed," she whispered to herself. She was not the same woman she had been back then. Before Cotterdam. Before her exile. Before Mani. Before this last year of being back on the Grid as a Senior Analyst and commanding a room because she had the authority to do so. And she had Harry's ring on her finger now. She belonged here, and she wanted to be able to stand up in the world as his wife. And she would. This was the first step of many. She was ready.
With a small huff of determination, Ruth walked out of Harry's kitchen to the foyer where Malcolm was taking off his coat. He grinned the second he saw her. "Hello, Ruth," he greeted happily.
She smiled, too. "Hello, Malcolm." After his coat was hung up, she stepped forward to embrace him. It really was so nice to see her old friend again. They'd not been able to spend much time together when she first came back to England with George and Nico. For obvious reasons.
Ruth led Malcolm into the living room while Harry went to check the food. She poured them all a drink.
"How have you been?" she asked him, hoping small talk could ease them into the real discussion of the evening.
"Very well, thank you. I do some independent cyber security and consulting for private companies here and there. Keeps me occupied. Mother's doing very well still. Her mind is going, but she's otherwise healthy. A neighbor comes to be with her when I go out."
"That's nice," Ruth answered pleasantly.
"And I know I can't ask about details on the Grid, but how are things? I heard about Ros."
Ruth's face fell at that. "That was a hard loss," she said quietly.
Malcolm nodded. "I think Harry was hoping for her to be in his chair one day."
"I think so. I never would have thought it, the Ros Myers we knew back before Cotterdam to who she was when I returned."
"The Grid changes people. And I think Harry tries his best to influence them into changing for the better when he can."
In spite of herself, Ruth smiled. "Yes, Harry's very good at that."
"What's Harry good at?" the man himself asked, walking back into the living room.
Ruth chuckled and handed him a drink. "Never mind that," she said. He hummed in thanks as he took the glass from her.
"I'd like to propose a toast, if I may," Malcolm said.
"Of course," Harry answered, standing beside Ruth—close but not quite touching her—and turning toward Malcolm.
"I'd first like to say to seeing old friends. I'm very glad that I can see you both again. But more importantly, I ought to offer my best wishes and congratulations on your engagement."
Ruth's heart sunk into her stomach and her jaw dropped. "You already told him!?" she accused Harry.
"I did nothing of the sort! I merely invited him to dinner at my house and told him you'd be here," Harry defended.
Malcolm interjected, "No, Harry didn't say anything. I may be retired from MI-5, but I've not lost all my powers of observation. The two of you are here together and Ruth's got that ring, and it looks like something Harry would buy from some posh jewelry store in Mayfair, probably."
Ruth relaxed slightly, knowing at least that Harry hadn't gone behind her back about things. She sighed in resignation. It wasn't how she'd wanted to tell Malcolm, but it did eliminate the problem of figuring out exactly how to bring it up. Ruth held out her left hand and showed off her beautiful ring. "You're absolutely right, of course. He took me to Cartier in Mayfair last Saturday."
Malcolm grinned, taking Ruth's hand to look at the ring. "It's beautiful. I'm so happy for you both. I'd say it was about time, but knowing you two, I suppose it's a miracle it happened at all."
A blush crept up Ruth's cheeks as she took her hand back. "Yes, well…" she muttered.
Harry grinned and put his arm around her, now free to do so as they had no secret to keep. "I'm quite lucky she said yes."
"You got the ring a week ago, but when did you propose, Harry?" Malcolm asked.
"The same day. After Ros's funeral."
"At the funeral, actually," Ruth added.
"Oh Harry, you didn't!" Malcolm chided. "And Ruth, you still said yes?"
Ruth smiled. "I just knew that if he'd asked me in a better way and in a better place, I'd have said yes. And in our world, things never really work out perfectly. I didn't want to miss the opportunity."
"This is the most wonderful thing. I'm so happy for you. I've said that already, but I don't know what else to say," Malcolm gushed.
"Well, you can think of something else to say at the dinner table. Everything's ready. Let's go sit down," Harry suggested.
Ruth and Malcolm both followed Harry into the dining room. He carved the meat at the table and Ruth served the vegetables and potatoes and passed around the sauce. Harry opened the wine Malcolm brought.
There were compliments all around about the food. Harry was a very good cook, but Ruth had assisted with everything. It all came out wonderfully. Ruth sat at the dining table eating delicious food beside the man she was going to marry while their best friend sat across from them. It was like a moment out of someone else's life. Ruth hadn't felt happiness like this in a very long time. She hadn't felt complete like this…well, ever.
"So tell me," Malcolm began, "what are the wedding plans?"
Ruth opened her mouth to explain that they hadn't discussed any of that yet, but Harry started speaking first. "Sometime next summer, I should think. Probably just a registrar's office, but an outdoor reception might be nice. A garden luncheon somewhere with a dancefloor under a marquee or something like that. Neither of us are churchgoers, after all."
"White gown and morning coat and all that?" Malcolm teased.
Harry nodded. "Oh certainly. I did that for my first wedding—"
"Yes, I remember," Malcolm interrupted.
"That's right, you'll be the only person, I think, to be present at both my weddings. But this one will be much nicer. And I want Ruth to have the perfect wedding of her dreams, whatever that might be," Harry added. He smiled, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze.
Ruth didn't squeeze his hand back. She had a tight smile on her face to hide the bubbling rage consuming her at that moment. She and Harry hadn't talked about the wedding at all. She had no idea he'd been thinking about all this. Thinking about it and apparently deciding what they'd do. Ruth herself hadn't even thought about the wedding!
But Harry wasn't finished yet at all. "We'll probably join you in retirement sometime around then, too," he said, as though announcing this on behalf of both of them were something so casual and easy.
Never mind that Ruth had just practically bullied Harry earlier this very week into not resigning from the Service yet. Never mind that Ruth had never once expressed any desire to leave the job she'd only been back at for a year. Never mind that Harry hadn't once expressed to Ruth that getting married meant that they should retire together. Never mind that Ruth Evershed wasn't even forty years old yet and nowhere near retirement age at all!
Oh she was going to kill him. It was all she could do to just keep eating her dinner and sipping her wine quietly. It wasn't fair to anyone for Ruth to ruin the evening by shouting at her stupid, presumptuous fiancé. He'd ruined the evening for her without a doubt, but she was going to try and enjoy Malcolm's company for the time being. She'd kill Harry later.