In terms of the previous night, sleeping and absolutely nothing else, had followed what had amounted to a long into the evening catch up. Which meant that Harry had eventually told Ruth what Connie James had done and that he should still have been in hospital. Resulting in her taking things more slowly than her usual breakneck speed, when she'd told him why she'd felt the need to come and see him personally, albeit via Malcolm. All the while with Harry sitting in what had looked like a well-used armchair and her on the settee opposite him. After which, with every attribute of a gentleman, he'd shown her his spare bedroom and told her to sleep well. The problem being that the situation she'd found herself in had felt so surreal, that it had taken her the best part of an hour to fall asleep. Whether Harry had been asleep during her pondering, she'd had no idea.

Now several hours later, what Harry hadn't yet told his colleagues, apart from Malcolm who had arrived in advance of the others and of course already knew that she'd spent the previous night sleeping in his spare bedroom, was that he and Ruth, had on his insistence, moved into the safe house where they were currently sitting. Within walking distance of Thames House and spacious enough so that Malcolm could set up an office, it had long since been declassified. In a side street with a wrought iron gate and surrounded by high stone walls, Norwood House had been left to the service, by Harry's predecessor on his death.

With a tray of coffee on the table in front of them, Harry commenced the briefing. Should anyone ask why he wasn't sitting behind his desk, then the official line was to say that he was still recuperating at home. Whereas in reality, he was taking what Ruth had told him very seriously and could make an equally effective contribution from here. Which was true, other than what he had no intention of telling them, although he was pretty sure that Malcolm had joined up the dots, that Ruth, without even trying, had worked her magic and won him over, and not just only because she was a bloody good analyst. The sincerity with which she'd told him the story last evening. Her need to leave almost immediately, with the realisation that by doing so, she would be implicated in what was to come. With seemingly no regard for her own safety or that she might end up without a job. Which as far as he was concerned, meant that someone had to stay with her, so why not him? Maybe it would be professional suicide on the gossip train, should anyone put two and two together, unlikely as that was. Whatever his motives, they were here now together, for as long as it took them to uncover what was potentially another traitor.

What Ruth hadn't been expecting, was for Harry to say 'you tell them Ruth', leaving her open to the scrutiny of people that she'd only been introduced too moments before. Shocked at first, but encouraged by his brief smile, she realised that he was acknowledging to the others, that he had accepted what she'd told him as being worthy of this most unconventional of meetings. That and a brief but to the point statement, that she was joining the team as Connie's replacement, but with no mention that she'd worked for him before. But since Harry had put her on the front line and with several sets of eyes now boring into hers, that she needed to get on with it.

'My job at GCHQ, was she said to emphasise the point, to monitor what we perceive to be disillusioned ex employees. More specifically, those who've left the service under a cloud. A list that runs into the high hundreds as I'm sure you can imagine. Many of whom, not surprisingly hold a grudge and if they're still young enough and desperate enough, very often strike out on their own. The Official Secrets Act being flouted as they seek to make a living, by whatever means, in all corners of the globe. It was three nights ago when I was covering for a colleague that I overheard a conversation of interest. If it hadn't been for the fact that Harry's name was mentioned, I'd have logged it to be dealt with in the morning. But having worked here before, there she'd said it, and for reasons that I can't explain, even to myself, I felt that I needed to come and tell Harry in person. There were two men talking. I had no idea who they were and I still don't. Without digging deeper I have nothing to go on, other than fifteen years was mentioned and I'm sure they were British. My real concern was the insistence by the one of them, that if the other didn't tell Harry who he was, then he would. More than that, there was the suggestion that whatever it was that they were talking about, would at best lead to Harry losing his job and at worst get him killed. The problem that I now have, is that I can't prove that this conversation ever took place, because when it ended, at which point I can usually run it through again, it had disappeared. It had been either blocked or wiped. Whoever these men are, they know how to get into GCHQ's system at the highest level and that's impossible, or so I thought up until now.'

'Could this be what Blake was referring to? Asked Ros, who'd been watching Harry out of the corner of her eye while Ruth had been speaking. Wondering if his decision to baby sit Ruth himself was a wise one or had an underlying reason. Deciding that it didn't and that if there were two people whose lives were potentially and simultaneously being threatened, that it made sense that they were kept together under one roof.

'If it was we won't be able to ask him, because Blake's just resigned,' Jo told them. Only to be interrupted by Malcolm, who could see all sorts of scenarios developing and not all of them work related.

'Until we discover what's really going on, this heightens the need to up the security here and if it's OK with you Harry, I'd like to bring in young Tariq?' He asked him

.

During the interim, while they waited for Malcolm to return with Tariq and after Ros and Jo had headed back to the grid, working wasn't an option. Getting settled in was and from Harry's point of view, the need to keep the conversation lighthearted. Ruth running for the hills wasn't what he wanted, either professionally or personally. But it was years since he'd lived under the same roof with anyone, never mind with a woman and he was very out of practice when it came to small talk. He'd dug himself a potential deep hole, he knew that, as he followed her up the stairs, with the suggestion that maybe they should spend the time by unpacking.

'I'll take this one,' he told her when she hesitated outside one of the bedroom doors, pointing her in the direction of what he knew was a much nicer room and nearer to the bathroom. Another thing that he'd forgotten, was that older houses generally only had one bathroom and that was the reason that Ruth had struggled at Malcolm's.

Saved on this occasion, by the front door re opening and Malcolm's cheerful voice, announcing that they'd come bearing gifts, lifting up the all too familiar case. Tariq with his arms full of cables trailing in behind him, saying that he needed to go back out to the car because there was a lot more to bring in. Harry was also saved from mentioning the words bedroom and Ruth in the same sentence, as he watched Malcolm heading up the stairs, allowing him to retreated to the kitchen and unpack the shopping.

'How is he Malcolm, really? He seems so less full of bluster than he used to be,' Ruth asked him, as she followed him into what was Harry's bedroom and watched him fit the same sensor on the window frame that he'd fitted on hers. Harry clothes still lying on the bed in unbelievably tidy piles and his shoes in a neat row by the door.

'Worried about losing you, so soon after Ben and Connie. Worried about everything if I'm being honest. It's been a dreadful few years for all of us, but none more so than Harry. Now that you've asked the question and before we go downstairs, I want to ask you to do me a favour. Talk to him Ruth, or better still force him to talk to you. It's what he needs right now, more than anything.'

'He's a Knight of the Realm Malcolm and I'm a returning bad girl. Are you seriously suggesting that I can persuade Harry to bare his soul?'

'Don't underestimate yourself Ruth and everyone's susceptible to beautiful blue eyes, even Harry.'

'What are you suggesting Malcolm?'

'Nothing, other than someone has to do it, so why not you. Plus it's not as though he can run away, is it?'

.

'Can we really do all this without anyone knowing?' Harry asked Tariq, as he listened to the various means they had available to them, to look through anyone's archives, record messages from agency to agency and conversations that went from Whitehall around the world. Hoping for an answer in words of no more than one syllable.

'Absolutely,' Tariq told him, firing up Harry's computer and waiting for a few seconds, as Malcolm climbed the ladder behind them and fitted another motion sensor on the last of the windows.

All of which was happening, while Ruth had escaped to the kitchen to take stock. Both of what had been delivered in the way of food and to think about what had happened during the course of the morning. Malcolm's insane request that she should act as Harry's what? Psychologist, friend, confidant? None of which made sense. Except that now she was back, it sort of did. That she was holed up in a safe house with Harry, hadn't been part of her plan, but then she hadn't really had a plan. Other than to get back to where she wanted to be. Ros had barely acknowledged her presence, unnervingly so, but Jo had squeezed her hand when she'd been leaving and said that she was glad she was here. Tariq seemed a nice lad and Malcolm - well he was just Malcolm.

As for Harry, apart from the obvious safety issue and the fact that neither of them could go back to the grid, not yet anyway, she still didn't know how she'd been manipulated into sharing a house with him. Blindly following him, as they all did, she hadn't even questioned why when he'd dragged her away from Malcolm's. Although and there had always been an although where Harry was concerned. What had Malcolm said? That Harry didn't want to lose her. Malcolm had been talking professionally she knew that, but then Malcolm didn't know how she felt about Harry. The excitement that welled up inside her when he walked into the room. The mystery that surrounded his life. The sheer power of the man that overwhelmed her. None of which had diminished in the time that she'd been away.