The Children's Holiday

Everywhere that he'd contacted had been booked when just as Ruth stumbled back into the kitchen, a camping holiday with a difference where they had vacancies jumped off the page. Hill View Farm on Skye was a family run business which offered an educational but fun experience for young children. In the two and a half acre field there would be a maximum of three other families, ensuring them space and privacy and a babysitter/childminder was available should they want one.

'Just book it Harry,' she said to his 'this sounds too good to be true, what do you think?'

She'd left to the sound of expletives that were worthy of the old Harry and could imagine the ums and ahs that had continued when she'd been missing. After what felt like days rather than a couple of hours of gardening, she was desperately in need of a sit down and a cup of tea.

He hit 'book now.'

One week later.

'Man of many talents, what did I tell you Ruth,' said the now much happier Harry that she knew and loved, his arms outstretched in triumph, as the tent that in the short term was doubling as their honeymoon hotel erected itself as if by magic and the children opened mouthed looked on. 'The tent pegs are probably at the bottom,' he added, encouraging his new assistant Thomas to dig deeper into the sack, until he resurfaced equally triumphant with a new pack.

'Please let me help,' Thomas had pleaded, when they'd read the brochure and realised that erecting their own tent was part of the educational experience.

Ruth was more than happy with this arrangement, assuming that it would involve a lot of sweat, tears and bad language, but seemingly not. As Thomas handed Harry the pegs and the mallet, the customary stones that were invariably where you wanted to hammer in a peg were conspicuous by their absence, and resulted in another full blown smile.

'What's next?' he asked her, as though he erected a tent like this every day of the week, which of course he didn't. Times had moved on and long gone were the god forsaken tents that he'd slept in during his time in the army.

'This is your bedroom,' came next and brought lots of giggling from the children, and what Harry suspected would be early mornings for himself and Ruth, despite the fact that they were separated by what the brochure describe as a large storeroom.

'When can we go and see the pigs?' Alice asked Harry, who'd now turned his hand to constructing their very comfortable looking beds, and Ruth who had finally found the stove and was putting the kettle on.

The pigs in question were of the bovine variety, not the boys in blue that frequented the streets of the big cities where criminals roamed, and certainly not on Skye. Harry had no idea why that particular thought had come into his head, but it had.

'Soon sweetheart after we've sorted ourselves out, here have a sandwich,' from Ruth, and Alice temporarily pacified.

It was the first week in August, the school had broken up for the summer, the sun was shining brightly and with the prospect of spending time with the children where nobody knew them, they were both inwardly confessing that they were starting to enjoy themselves.

'I'm still hungry,' said Alice, bringing Ruth back to reality and Harry and Thomas into action, as they sorted out the table and chairs before they sat down to enjoy lunch.

Another advantage of staying on a farm that prided itself on being self–sufficient and with a shop that sold everything, was that shopping in the day to day sense of 'You did remember to buy the toilet rolls didn't you,' followed by 'I thought you said that you'd get them,' would be non-existent. Harry still detested shopping and along with the fact that there was a pub that was within walking distance where children were welcome if you had a meal, was a real bonus.

This evening though, once they'd taken the children to see the various livestock they intended cooking al fresco, which involved another look at the brochure under the heading 'camp kitchen'.

'Welcome, I'm Sally,' said a cheerful voice, as they rounded the corner in the direction of what were obviously the hen houses, where a noticeboard told you, that if you arrived between nine and nine thirty in the morning you could feed the hens and help collect the eggs. To Alice who had lived most of her four years in a city and had never seen a hen up close and personal, it was as though they'd given her all her Christmas presents at once.

'You can come closer, here come and see what I'm doing,' Sally encouraged Alice, who was holding tight to Ruth's hand as Thomas who was ever hopeful of seeing a bear, went with Harry in search of something larger.

Having lived his entire seven years on Lewis and apart from their trip to Canada when he considered himself to have been much younger, he'd never had a holiday and certainly not one like this. They'd been on what to a seven year old was a huge boat, he'd helped put up the tent and make their beds and tonight he was going to help his dad cook their dinner.

'We're booked in for egg collection a nine,' said Ruth's voice, interrupting the father and son conversation about which of the six donkeys that they were looking at was called Ryan, before reminding Harry that if they wanted to eat tonight, then they needed to investigate the shop.

'Harry,' he said, shaking the farmer's wife's hand as she arrived from where she'd been stacking the shelves, 'and this is my wife Ruth and our son Thomas and our granddaughter Alice,' was the first time that he'd introduced Ruth as his wife and was as far as he got before words stalled on his tongue.

'The children have been so excited about this holiday, you've got a lovely spot here,' Ruth helped him out, as Harry turned tail in search of a trolley.

'We've lived here all our lives, my husband was born on the farm,' sounded very familiar, as Lucy mark two then went on to tell them to make themselves at home while they were there and if there was anything that they needed, then they only had to ask.

'Do you have sausages?' asked Thomas.

They did, but no mention was made of their origin and that until quite recently they'd been enjoying the same summer sunshine as their visitors.

'Strangely enough I've never been asked that question,' Lucy responded to Ruth's raised eyebrows, as Harry took the children outside to load the car while she hung back to pay.

As day one came to an end, the question of bedtime reared its head and in the case of the children a much needed shower.

'Where are they?' was the children's next question, as Ruth gathered their towels and wash togs together.

The concept of walking across a field for a shower with a towel over your shoulder wouldn't have been alien to seasoned campers and certainly not to Harry or Ruth, but the children's reaction was priceless.

'No it wasn't a hot tub it was called a shower block,' brought more questions. This particular shower block came with all mod cons and was one of the first things that Harry had checked before he'd booked. Cold showers he'd had aplenty, but this certainly live up to his expectations in that it was spotlessly clean, was heated and there was plenty of steaming hot water.

'That's a silly name,' came with more giggles, as Harry told Thomas to stand still on the duck board, while he bent down to retrieve the soap that had predictably slid in slow motion into the adjacent cubicle where Ruth was showering Alice.

The real upside of all this activity was that the children were worn out, so as soon as they tucked them up in bed they fell asleep. They'd survived their first day which had been a long one, given that they'd left home at 8am.

'Happy?' was a ridiculous question, but Harry asked her anyway.

The sun had started to set and with it had come the same feeling of contentment that they shared at home, each and every evening. But here, sitting in the middle of a field under a star filled sky it felt different and strangely romantic, knowing that without saying anything that the person that you were sitting with felt exactly the same.

'I love you too,' Ruth told him breaking the silence. She'd seen it in his eyes.

'In that case I fancy an early night,' came with no argument, as they finished the bottle of wine and headed for bed.

Harry was as usual was keeping his promise, and the music that he'd told her would never stop played on as he kissed her goodnight.

Christmas

Life for both of them had changed immeasurably over the past couple of years, but more so for Harry. What had once been Ruth's domain was now theirs, and as they approached another Christmas together he belonged and he knew it.

'I don't suppose you've seen Michael? ' Rose asked him as he popped out from behind some scenery that he and some of the other dads were erecting. Not surprisingly he'd been recruited into the small band of helpers who were currently getting the church ready for the Christmas Concert and the hall for the Christmas Party.

He hadn't, well not since about nine o'clock which seemed a long time ago and he was starting to feel hungry. Ruth's insistence that they ate regularly had paid off and it was time for his elevenses.

Rose could read Harry like a book, well almost as well as Ruth. In fact she was the founder member of the, we think Harry's lovely fan club.

'Pop over to the school, it's break time and if you're lucky, Ruth might just have saved you a biscuit,' was said with genuine fondness.

The preparations for the concert were at the final stage and as he walked into the school room the sound of children singing was electrifying. Thomas spotted him and grinned, but Ruth had her back to him. He rarely saw her at work other than when he was persuaded to give a hand, which usually meant that Ron who still popped in from time to time fancied a chat.

The energy and encouragement that she'd poured into drawing the best out of the children had paid off, but it still astounded him how well they'd responded. They were practicing Silent Night and she was literally drawing the emotion from them. It had captivated him that first Christmas and it still did.

'Well done,' she told them, although in Harry's opinion it went way beyond well done.

'Absolutely not,' had been Michael's response to Harry suggesting that as Graham and his family were also coming to the service that they should sit further back. 'Don't be ridiculous,' he'd told him, 'Ruth's the organiser Harry, you'll sit at the front with Rose and me.'

If he'd struggled to get through the evening the first time, then he knew that this time it was going to be ten times more difficult. Ruth was his wife now, the other half of him, and Thomas's adoption had been finalised, he was their son.

Just as she had done two years ago, Ruth walked down the aisle with the narrator. This year it was Robert. Turning towards the other children she smiled, the signal for them to start walking towards her.

It was the third time that he'd watched the performance and he knew the format by heart. He also knew how much effort Ruth had put into it and how important it was to her that the evening went well. Every nerve that he knew was coursing through her he could feel, excruciatingly beautiful as well as difficult. She was standing almost within touching distance, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight and her body framed by the Christmas tree that he'd help decorate. He was truly struggling.

'It'll be fine Harry,' he heard Lucy whisper, her hand searching his in reassurance, as Ruth caught his eye and held his gaze and Thomas, this year dressed as a shepherd, walked with Liam beside him towards Bethlehem.

Never a believer, there was something about being in this tiny church that on nights such as this, knocked on the door of his innermost consciousness and made him wonder. It was a spine tingling and very special moment.

Christmas Day wasn't quite as they'd planned it to be, although they weren't to worry Catherine had told them when she'd rung to say that she was going to her mothers and that she was no longer with Callum. Unlike the others he'd gone back to five, apparently unable to cope without the buzz.

'I'm absolutely fine Dad, stop fussing I'll see you at Easter,' she'd told them, before wishing them all a Happy Christmas'

It certainly made for a better atmosphere and a more relaxed Graham, who had joined in the let's have a silly day, that when he'd been a child his father had always instigated at Christmas. The new much larger house had really come into its own and it didn't matter that the floor was covered with presents and wrapping paper and the children were pretty much allowed to get away with anything.

Ruth generally watched on, loving this other Harry, who just for one day seemed to abandon all the rules and play the fool. It was at moments like this that just for a second, she wondered what their long gone colleagues would have thought if they could have seen him playing hide and seek and pretending to be a bear. Alice squealing with delight at being found and Thomas playing along, she would never ever take it for granted she told herself, this precious new life that they'd made for themselves.

'My turn, my turn,' came from Thomas who was somewhere upstairs, as she joined Lucy who was taking a breather in the kitchen with Whisky who was doing a very good impression of a dog with paws over his ears.

'Harry used to be so contained, married life really suits him,' said Lucy unexpectedly, as the man in question who had gone out to fetch another basket of logs to bank up the fire, appeared at the kitchen window with a big grin on his face.

Contained wasn't a word that Ruth would have used to describe the former Harry, who with a few words could quell the most confident of people, but she knew what Lucy meant. Just how much Graham had told Lucy about their former life she wasn't sure, so she opted for another explanation.

'Harry loves his children, all of them, he always has,' she told her as Lucy nodded. 'They just fell into the hole between two warring parents, they were never the reason just the victims,' left the door open for whatever Lucy was really trying to say, which didn't take long.

'Graham was very bitter when I first met him until he met my nightmare parents. It was then that he realised that what Catherine had been trying to drum into him for ages, might actually be true. Her ringing when Harry was hurt and pleading with him to come to London was the impetuous that he needed and I just want you to know how grateful I am, because without it we wouldn't have moved here and make me feel part of a real family.'

'Boo,' said Alice, who had crept in unnoticed in search of Thomas, who was clearly still upstairs.

'Where does he get his energy from, I'm shattered?' Lucy asked Ruth, when three hours later Harry was upstairs reading the children a bedtime story before they went to sleep. She and Lucy had washed up the dishes and tidied up the chaos in the sitting room, before slumping onto the sofa beside Graham who was already asleep in Harry's large chair.

Making up for lost time thought Ruth, but Lucy was right Harry rarely got tired any more. Not strictly true in this case, when an hour later she went upstairs to find him, and he was curled up next to Thomas fast asleep.

The Honeymoon

Six years ago when they'd been babysitting some high ranking politician whose name he could no longer remember, he'd been passing Ruth's door on his way to bed and had overheard a chance remark that she'd made to Jo.

He'd loved her even then otherwise why would he have remembered, but whether he was doing the right thing in considering London as the location for their honeymoon he wasn't sure, until he'd spoken to Catherine.

'When have you two ever had a chance to enjoy London together Dad and do normal things, Ruth will love it and so will you,' she'd told him, his mind going into overdrive imaging them watching a concert at the Royal Festival Hall or walking beside the Thames her arm linked through his.

It had been two days after their wedding before Catherine had flown home and she and Ruth had gone for a walk.

'That's fine sir, one double room for three nights, we look forward to seeing you,' had been the chirpy receptionists response to Harry's call, suggesting that as they were bound to get busy at that time of year, that he might be wise book now.

'We'll take it,' and it was done. Well apart from him booking their flights and talking to Rose to reaffirm that she was still happy for Thomas to stay at the vicarage for a few nights, and at this stage keep it from Ruth.

Now with only a week to go, he needed to tell Graham and Lucy before the suggestion of why don't you come to us for New Year became a problem, and decide which if any was the best way to tell Ruth. The chances were that even with the flight that they were booked on she might not guess where they were staying, six years was a long time even with Ruth's amazing memory.

Far from being daunted by the thought of going back to London, Ruth was equally pleased. The years when they been constrained by their work and their ridiculous hesitancy had prevented them doing so many of the things that she'd really wanted to.

His only concession to the past was that he'd been in touch with his favourite taxi driver who had been waiting to meet them at Heathrow and was at your disposal Arry. Ruth didn't doubt it. She knew London as well as Harry did, but not by the routes that taxi drivers took, so it wasn't until the very last minute that she realised where they were staying. How on earth he knew about this hotel she had no idea or if he didn't, then the coincidence was amazing.

It had been years since she'd been there. It was to a wedding reception of one of her friends from Cambridge, who in those days Ruth thought had more money than sense. Now though, standing by their window on the third floor overlooking the Thames from the South Bank and close to the Shard with a stunning view of the London skyline and the majestic buildings that were so familiar, she felt differently. Whatever else Harry had up his sleeve she wanted him to keep there, whatever he had planned would be perfect, she knew that now.

As his strong arms enveloped her, she closed her eyes and leant back into him, perfectly content. This was a just a fantasy; home was where Thomas was and where they belonged, but just for a few days she was determined to enjoy it.

'What's it to be then?' he asked after they'd unpacked and had a couple of hours free before dinner.

'Take me to bed Harry,' was what he wanted her to say, she could see it on his face but that could come later, so they settled for a walk.

'Walking in the streets,' he said predictably, as they headed away from the hotel, with her hand now tightly held by his.

It might have been the last week in December with the chill from the river permeating the air, but Ruth had never felt warmer. People passed them in both directions, ordinary people they would have once called them, but now just people like them.

They found a small bar that served coffee and that's where they gravitated. A drink with their dinner could wait and they wanted to ring Thomas.

'We're having fish fingers and chips,' followed, 'yes I am,' to Ruth's question that 'she hoped he was behaving and was he enjoying himself?' as Harry waited patiently for the phone to be handed over.

No they weren't having fish and chips, although Mummy might have fish because it was her favourite, were amongst the questions that Harry had to answer before asking to speak to Rose.

'He's absolutely fine and yes we still plan to take the children to the New Year's Eve bonfire and fireworks display tomorrow and you're not to worry,' the ever dependable Rose told him.

In the eight years that they'd known each other, you could count on one hand the number of times that they'd eaten in a restaurant. This one surpassed all of them, but despite its opulence Ruth still felt comfortable. How could she not when Harry was being so attentive. He'd pretty much thought of everything or at least he hoped he had and had pre booked a table by the window. The plush carpet cut out all sound of chairs being moved in or out or passing diners and the layout of the tables offered sufficient room for privacy.

They'd ordered their meal and the waiter had poured their first glass of wine. 'To us,' Harry toasted, raising his glass as the world around them disappeared beyond their bubble. He'd developed the habit of turning Ruth's wedding ring in circles on her finger and he was doing it now, as though he still couldn't quite believe that they'd made it.

'Tell me how you knew about this hotel?' Ruth asked him, stilling his hand, only to be staggered that he'd remembered after all this time.

'I only remember the good things now,' he told her, 'the rest is history, but I want to tell you this here and now and hope that even on bad days you will never forget.'

'What bad days?' She was worried.

'Well not bad days in the really bad day sense, just when I'm grumpy because the internet's gone down or England's lost a Test Match or my knee's giving me jip.'

'Oh those bad days,' a relieved Ruth said, smiling at his earnest face, 'what mustn't I never forget?'

'That I love you Ruth with all my heart and I always will, more than I'll ever adequately be able to express.'

'That's good,' as Ruth's response, wouldn't have been adequate to anyone other than them, but its meaning was as clear as it was full of memories.

The waiter had hung back. He was used to watching their guests and had learnt not to interrupt at inappropriate moments. Now though the conversation had stopped and both parties were smiling. It was time to deliver their first course.

The following few days flew by. They spent a lot of time in bed, had a wonderful evening at The Festival Hall, walked what felt like the length and breath of the Thames and sought out what would always be their bench in St James's Park. Most importantly though, they laughed rather than cried about the stupidity on both their parts to have reached this moment.

There had been many times over the years when one or other of them had manufactured the situation to enable them to see the New Year in together. The balcony at Thames House, that was undoubtable theirs and where only those with a death wish or who wanted to be posted to far flung climes dared tread, was within touching distance. But if what Ruth suspected was their final goodbye to London and the first step into a future that they had both for so long dreamed of, then what better place do it than amongst real people by the London Eye.

The countdown in all the major countries went worldwide on TV these days. Sydney, then London and finally New York were the so called competitors as to the best fireworks, if what you read in the newspapers was to be believed. Did it really matter Ruth thought, no it didn't. Most people lived where we are born and this was why Harry had spent a lifetime trying to protect London.

Tomorrow they would fly home to their tiny island and to Thomas who was their future. But for this one precious moment as Big Ben struck midnight and Harry kissed her, the world belonged to them.