Ruth might have been found out of her comfort zone, but if nothing else she was an organiser. On what was a bitterly cold morning when the children's tiny hands were being blown on to get warm and frozen feet stamped, she took advantage of the situation and gathered her flock around the piano.
She'd spent the previous evening planning what would in essence be the nativity but with the audience participating in a sing song as the finale. She was worried that it wasn't going to be very original, but with so little time to organise it, it was all she had. She still hadn't found a volunteer to play Santa Clause.
'Come on sing up,' she told them as they went into the second verse of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.
They were a bright bunch made up of two classes which didn't make it easy, but they were were warming to the fact that normal lessons had been abandoned in the run up to the concert.
'It's going to be really exciting,' she told her audience, going on to explain that they'd be walking down the aisle, just as the choir did before the Sunday service, but that they'd be wearing their costumes, which caused a murmur of expectation and a further explanation from Ruth as to what part each of them would be playing. Ignoring previous castings which seemed very samey, she'd gone on her instinct and what she'd seen so far, so crossing her fingers she handed out the short scripts.
Having grouped together the shepherds and their sheep, assorted angels, the three wise men and then finally the first time Mary and Joseph, she turned to a disappointed James.
'I'd like you to be the narrator,' she told him, explaining what that involved and that it was a very important role.
By the time it reached mid- morning the room was a hive of activity, the children certainly weren't bored and none of them wanted a break from what they were doing. The older ones she'd split into two groups, one of which was dusting off the scenery and props whilst the other was sorting out the costumes that needed washing or repairing.
Keeping a watchful eye, Ruth was putting the four sheep and the four youngest angels through their paces, practising the first verse of Away in a Manger.
'Let's try that again and then we'll have a rest and something to drink,' she told the group in general but Maisie in particular, who now that her doll had been chosen to replace the headless Baby Jesus, supposed that her job was over and was fiddling with her plaits, and Rory who wasn't concentrating but was keeping an eye on what was happening to his sheep costume.
The next step and before the dress rehearsal took place they needed to practice in the church, which was something that she needed to discuss with Michael. Other than on Sundays when the heating such as it was came on, the church was chilly and it wasn't a good place for young children to spend hours at a time. Her second request was motivated by her own personal need and ability to cope. The mere thought of seeing a Christmas tree in the classroom every day was dragging her down, so she was going to suggest to Michael that it should be given pride of place in the church beside the pulpit.
Finding teachers who were prepared to move from more lucrative jobs on the mainland had proved a never ending problem and even more so the ability to keep them. In the wings and unseen by Ruth or the children, Rose who had taken a break from her kitchen duties had popped over to see how things were going. Robert her eldest and usually boisterous son was reading lines, totally absorbed in what he was doing and integrating with a group of the older children. If what she'd overheard was correct, he was playing Joseph. She was impressed.
Who was this extraordinary woman that had stumbled into their village and within less than a week of teaching, had succeeded in taming what up to now had been an unruly group of children?
Michael who was much more used to reading people then she was, had noticed that aside from her obvious ability to form a bond with the children, there was an inner sadness to Susan, that when her guard was down she couldn't succeed in hiding. She was far too nice a person to be alone, so perhaps her story that she'd never had had a partner or wanted children wasn't strictly true. Whatever the reason it was a crying shame and it made Rose realise how lucky she was to be part of a loving family even though they drove her crazy at times. Could Susan be persuaded to stay or would she eventually want leave the island? Rose hoped not, because dear old Mrs. Macdonald who Michael had been to visit yesterday was fading fast and certainly wasn't going to be coming back.
Four days and counting, until the night of the concert.
Michael bustled into the room frozen to the bone, telling them that he had it on good authority from Harris the butcher that it was going to be the coldest winter in living memory.
'That's nice dear,' said Rose, making Ruth inwardly smile, who at the end of the fourth day of nothing but rehearsing, had been enjoying one of Rose's mince pies with a cup of tea in their kitchen.
He had no hesitation in saying yes, when Ruth suggested that rather than hold the concert at the school, she wanted to hold it in the church and please could he find some way to encourage as many people as possible to attend. Ron the school caretaker had told her that for years it had been a repeat of the previous year's performance and apart from the proud parents for whom it was the highlight of the school year, the audience numbers had steadily dwindled. Ruth's plan was imaginative and having had so little time to put it together, Rose wanted them to help her in any way that they could. Involving the entire congregation so that everyone played a part in the story, surely ensured that they'd get bums on seats and hopefully a full house to do it justice.
'Your wish is my command,' Michael said teasing her as he always did. 'On one condition though, you have to promise to join us for Christmas Eve for the party.'
Maybe thought Ruth as she thanked them again, before retrieving her coat from the pile in the corner and heading back out into the cold for the short drive home. It was here, from the moment that she opened her door that the fantasy that she was happy and making progress died. Her days she could cope with, it was the long evenings and the sometimes sleepless nights when she longed to be with Harry, that life got tough again. It was Christmas for goodness sake when people were supposed to be with the people that they loved, and what did she have to look forward too? A good book, a bottle of wine and some mindless television. She'd always longed for the school holidays when she'd been a child and now she dreaded the one that was fast approaching, how ironic was that. She'd lost count of the times that she'd picked up her phone to dial an oh so familiar number, knowing that within seconds it would be either Harry or Catherine that would pick it up and she would be able to hear his voice and be able to tell him how much she was missing him.
What had Michael said about the weather? Storms and freezing temperatures over the Christmas period, oh joy. She'd so far managed to spend at least half an hour each evening wrapped in a blanket and cuddling a cup of tea on the porch that ran the full length at the back of the house, where you could hear if not see the sea. On a starlit night there was nowhere a better place to be and it was here in her solitude that she felt closest to Harry.
Everyone was being so kind so she could hardly refuse to go to the party could she? In an effort to raise her spirits, she poured herself a glass of wine, climbed the stairs and ran herself a bath. Cleaner, certainly warmer and back in her comfortable clothes she ate the omelette that she'd prepared and then settled down on her sofa to think about the concert and pencil down the sequence of carols. Tomorrow she wanted to take the children to the church and walk them through the performance. Play it down she told herself, don't make too much of it, the only thing that matters is that the children enjoyed it.
'That'll be your old pal Bob,' Callum told Harry, when the doorbell rang just as he was about to go back to the grid. Malcolm and Tariq were already ensconced in Harry's office and Harry, who had been persuaded with the combined effort of Callum and Catherine that they really needed his help, was working his way through what was a mountain of closed files that Beth had delivered the previous evening. There was each and every one that he and Ruth had worked on together and Harry had signed off, although in most cases with only a cursory glance at Ruth's note that said sign here. Now reading them in depth they made for interesting reading and for Harry, an increased admiration as to how astute Ruth had been in her efforts to define the salient points. Highlights and circles had left him with little or no work to do other than to sign, whereas now, in what was a do or die situation with Ruth missing, he was reading every word.
'Glad to see you looking better,' said Bob, as Catherine who was thrilled that her dad seemed more energised and was getting used to playing hostess to half of the grid, delivered two cups of coffee as Bob joined Harry at his dining room table.
'I've been led to believe that I owe you a debt of gratitude and congratulations by the way, a little birdie told me that you got married,' Harry told his guest.
'I sure did and my flight home's first thing tomorrow, but I'm free today and you look as though you could do with some help,' Bob told him, spotting the as yet unread Albany file, knowing full well that this was the op that had caused Harry to be suspended because he'd given away a state secret in order to save Ruth's life.
'You've got a good team, they will find her,' broke what had now been half an hour of silence during which time they'd continued reading and Bob had fully appreciated how important Ruth had been to Harry, professionally as well as personally. The fact that Harry was in love with Ruth was well known throughout the security services and Bob had been around in the two dark years when Ruth had been exiled. It went without saying that having it happen again must be devastating. They were both of an age when you got to believe that it was now or never and he'd go crazy if he lost Helen.
Harry didn't respond, studiously studying the file that lay in front of him, but Bob wasn't fooled or daunted. Callum had asked him to call and try and drag Harry back from what they all feared was a precipice and he was determined to do it.
'I know that we haven't always seen eye to eye Harry,' he said, stating the blindingly obvious, 'but I am genuinely sorry that Ruth's missing, what's she like?'
'I take it you don't mean professionally?' was said with a hint of sarcasm, before Harry dragged himself to his feet and picked up a book that stood on a side table, handing Bob a photograph that he had hidden just inside the cover.
'Not your usual sort,' had Harry balling up his fists, but he thought better of it. Bob had come here as a friend and despite how he was feeling he didn't need to be churlish.
'In a word she's perfect,' was said so quietly that Bob barely heard it, as Harry took the photograph back and after gazing at it for a few seconds took a deep breath and stood it on his mantelpiece.
'I have another question,' Bob told him an hour later, when he'd finished picking apart the Albany file and they were eating the sandwiches that Catherine had delivered. 'What the hell happened to the money that the Chinese gave to Lucas?'
'He bought a fake bomb which succeeded in getting me onto the roof before he jumped, it's all in the file,' had Bob asking Harry to humour him.
'Lucas would have been given thousands by the Chinese, maybe as much as a million and far more then was needed to buy a bomb, fake or otherwise, am I right? He had an exit plan with Miya and yet none of the money was found on his body, so where did it go because it certainly isn't documented?'
If the money had gone missing as Bob was suggesting, then it had to have happened between Thames House and the Home Office. Lucas's death and his subsequent two month suspension had been sufficient to distract his staff, especially Ruth who had been side lined almost instantly by Erin. She'd have had no involvement or so seen the report that he'd written about her, during the long two months that they'd been separated.
Once she'd re located to the Home Office her curiosity would have got the better of her and she'd have wanted to read it. She was like a dog with a bone was his Ruth, it was in her nature. Ultimately she'd have stumbled upon the truth and then what would she have done? She'd have told the only person that she could truly trust. She'd have told him.
Suddenly everything was starting to make sense.
'I'm sorry but I need to make some enquiries,' he told Bob, knowing full well that funds of that magnitude would have been deemed to be the property of Her Majesty's Government and as such would have been registered at the Home Office. He'd read through what he'd been led to believe had been Ruth's workload but it had revealed nothing. Perhaps if he talked to Margo he'd get some answers? He'd get Callum to ring her.
'Let me know when you find that Ruth of yours and get yourself married, I can recommend it,' Bob told a wistful looking Harry as he called cheerio to Catherine and shook his friend's hand.
Margo liked Harry, but at the same time she was slightly daunted by the fact that he had a knighthood and what she felt was a presence. That he and Ruth were attracted to each other was obvious, but whether their relationship had moved beyond that she didn't know. Ruth was an extremely private person and Margo respected that and didn't listen to the tittle tattle that was rife in political circles. If everything you heard was true, then there'd never be time to get any work done. Ruth was missing and according to her knew boss was probably dead and she should forget her, but she couldn't. So when Callum called and asked if she'd be prepared to meet Harry, she'd agreed.
With Beth driving to Ruth's house, Harry was outdoors for the first time in weeks. Callum had suggested that if anyone was watching Harry, then it would be the last place that they'd expect him to go and it also offered anonymity for Margo. Beth had done her best to remove all traces of Ruth, but it was impossible to change the heart of a building and from the moment that Harry walked through the door, his heartrate increased. The pictures on the walls, the mishmash of furnishings and the homeliness were all so achingly familiar, that his resolve to rise above it and cope crumbled, as Beth witnessed him he rubbing his fingers across his forehead, in an all too familiar gesture.
'I don't know if this helps?' Margo asked Beth, who having seen Harry's distress had taken over, handing her a USB that she'd managed to remove from Ruth's desk before her new boss had been catapulted in.
'He'll be away until the New Year, he and Mrs Dolby are having a Christmas Holiday in the sun,' the DG's personal secretary told Erin, when she rang for an appointment, sending the meeting room into a frenzy of activity and the CIA sharpening their knives.
'Instigate an all ports warning and check CCTV at the tunnel and the airports,' had Dimitri and Beth racing back to their desks and Callum ringing Harry.
'Assuming that you don't want to come back to Thames House, Erin says that you can hang onto Tariq for a bit,' Callum told him, 'but if Malcolm wants to stay, he'll have to do it for love not money from now on,' had Harry muttering something that sounded remarkably like sod Erin, she's not the boss yet, which Callum chose to ignore. 'Tell Catherine that I'll try to get home early enough for dinner, I want to be involved in the search for Ruth,' made Harry wish that his probable son in law would end up sitting in his chair, because he was a much more sensitive people person than Erin Watts would ever be.
Harry's office was small and functional and nothing more, whereas his sitting room was warm, comfortable and much more conducive to creating the right atmosphere in which to work when there were three of you needing to be together. Tariq and Catherine had juggled with the furniture and the kitchen table had been carried through to enable Harry, Malcolm and Tariq to set up their computers. They had one aim and that was to find Ruth. Safe in the knowledge that Mrs Dolby, with or without her knowledge that her husband was a criminal and Europe's most wanted, had gone with him, meant that Ruth was no longer in danger or so that had to believe.
She hadn't taken her passport, that was safely tucked in Harry's safe, although she'd have been sent packing with a new name and that presented a further problem in that she could be anywhere in Europe or indeed the world. They'd trawled through Dolby's personal file starting from the moment that he'd joined the service and as they did so it became more and more evident that his career had mirrored Harrys, right up until the time that Harry had received his knighthood and Dolby who by then was DG, had been ignored. He and Mrs Dolby lived in what only could be described as 'a pile' in Surrey and a team which included Dimitri and Beth, had been sent there to tear the place apart.
True to his word, Callum arrived home at seven to find Catherine in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to their dinner.
'How's you dad?' he asked her, hopeful that now they had managed to solve one problem that Harry might be more relaxed.
'Like a coiled spring,' was Catherine's apt description, as Harry who wasn't known for his patience under any circumstances could be heard reiterating that didn't they know it was only three days until Christmas Eve. When she'd popped in to tell them that dinner would soon be ready he'd been in full flow, telling them that wherever Ruth was that they bloody well needed to find her, because she wasn't going to be spending Christmas alone, even if it meant he had to fly half way around the world to be with her.
Harry shouting was music to the ears as far as Malcolm and Tariq were concerned, it meant that he was back to being the grid Harry, that had been buried for far too long. He may not have regained much of the weight that he'd lost but that wasn't important, his mental state was what had concerned them. If he was telling them that he was prepared to fly anywhere in the world to be with Ruth at Christmas, then they'd move heaven and earth to find her, with or without pay.