Thanks to all those who read and even more to those who reviewed. I've just about reached my Christmas deadline for posting. As I predicted when posting the first chapter although this story is set around Christmas it won't be finished before the 25th - in fact with five more chapters to come it is likely to extend well into post Christmas hangover that is January. Sorry but I admit to being a slow writer.
Stepping out from the warmth of the hall the contrast with the bitingly cold air made all three of them catch their breath. Even Harry the Cold War veteran who'd previously experienced sub zero temperatures during his youthful adventuring behind the Iron Curtain was prey to a sudden shivering. While they'd been joyously carousing indoors with the graciously welcoming holy huddle a cold hard frost had descended outside, rendering the pathways even more slippery than before. The gravelled track that led down from the hall to the tarmaced lane provided an adequate grip for shoes, but once they'd reached the public roadway the gritty underfoot terrain gave way to something more akin to an ice rink. Jane, the first to step out, very nearly found her feet skidding from under her as thin soled boot made its preliminary incautious contact with the treacherous ground. She saved herself from sprawling inelegantly across the path by the dint of a frantic grabbing of Harry, who, following one step behind her had remained more securely anchored to terra firma.
"Careful Jane, if I land on top of you you'll really end up squashed."
If it hadn't been for Mabel's presence Jane might have reminded him that in previous years that hadn't been an entirely unknown or indeed entirely unpleasant experience for her, as it was she merely countered with, "I'm fine. I've got my balance now."
Venturing his own foot, shod with a more substantial tread, onto the ground Harry gave the treacherous surface an exploratory skid.
"Very well. I could go for my car." He hoped his reluctance to do so was absent from his voice. The immediate area was dark, narrow and dangerously encrusted with black ice. Christmas was not the time to write your car off. Especially when the subsequent contacting of the Grid to either demand a rescue driver or explain his unscheduled absence would precipitate a slew of enquires from his staff, ostensibly relating to Jane's well being, although in actuality a thinly disguised attempt to confirm their all too obvious hope that their boss's personal life was finally being subjected to a much needed upturn.
"Thanks Harry, glad as I am that you've been cleared for driving," Pausing briefly as he shot her a warning look which advised her that, if in nothing else, they were at least united in a preference to ensure that the events of a few weeks ago remained securely under local wraps, she hurriedly explained, "I'd rather keep moving than freeze here while you fetch it." Just in case he was inclined to protest she added a clincher, "And that van is still blocking the only road wide enough to allow you to manoeuvre."
Thankful that Mabel hadn't picked up on Jane's careless slip, Harry bowed to her local knowledge of the terrain, especially when her advice was endorsed by his own observations. Since, if they didn't start to move forthwith, they would rapidly be developing a marked resemblance to the rigid, icicle dusted angels decorating the tombstones, Harry proffered the only acceptable alternative to them lingering at the roadside.
"Very well, but can I suggest that you seize one arm and Mabel my other to steady yourselves."
The grateful clutch of two hands gripped his limbs tightly, accompanied by what Harry trusted would not become a self fulfilling prophecy as Jane laughed, "And then we'll all celebrate Christmas with a broken leg a piece."
"More repairable than broken head, believe me."
Further speech ceased, subsumed by the effort required to remain upright. Mabel, a small woman with a network of facial wrinkles that placed her age as quite obviously eighty plus was remarkably spry for her years, which was fortunate since despite Jane's house being less than a mile away the ice made it inadvisable for the unsteady elderly to venture forth. It was only as they slithered past the slight widening in the roadway, in whose recessive shelter the nuisance making dark van stood brooding without any lights, that Mabel spoke for the first time.
"Who can they be visiting I wonder? The Gregsons are away, you know Jane, visiting their daughter as the baby is due any time, lovely girl and then the Roberts, I think they have their parents staying but as he's unable to drive... a mild stroke two years ago...or perhaps..."
The verbal floodgates having opened Mabel's now loosened tongue cantered onwards, effectively ensuring that Harry and Jane had no chance to converse as her endless chatter dominated the rest of the walk. Together they all slid and staggered in a rough unison past the church, diagonally across the green where Harry's car still stood - deserted, solitary and in urgent need of de-icing - to be greeted by the obstacle of the stone packhorse bridge that spanned a small, and at present, partly frozen stream. Having succeeded in their struggles to cross this successfully, mindful of the ever present hazard of crashing over the low parapet into the shallow but icy depths below, they celebrated this minor victory by halting for a moment. All three of them feeling the need to take a short breather as an essential precursor to tackling the looming incline that marked the final stage of their journey towards the small executive development wherein were domiciled Jane, Mabel and, regrettably, the utterly odious Emma Winnick. This last effort had effectively stemmed the tsunami of information emanating from Mabel, although by now anything that Harry didn't already know about the various local relationships, personal and genealogical, could have been written on the back of a postage stamp with room to spare. Jane, grabbing a quick moment from her concentrated attempts to remain upright thought she saw the ghost of a smile flicker across his face. If a terrorist was ever unwise enough to make this allegedly off the radar village the epicentre of their plotting MI5 would have a head start on Intel thanks to the stream of information that Mabel had just poured into Harry's unobstructed ears. Harry while amused by Mabel's seemingly never ending dissertation had also detected within her various comments a shrewdness that surprised him. A chatterbox without a doubt, but equally not a fool. Confronted with the effort of scaling this miniature Everest while maintaining her balance Mabel has paused before finally concluding with a touch of apology, "But I'm sure you didn't want to know all this boring village trivia." The sadness in her voice sending Harry mind whirling backwards a few weeks ago to Jane's comment,
'Mabel is a very generous and helpful soul. She might like to gossip about some things, but that is due largely to loneliness. When she moved into the village her husband was still alive, he was a local councillor so a person of importance. After he died the local in crowd instantly dropped her as superfluous to requirements.'
Recalling that the appalling Emma Winnick had obviously classified Mabel as belonging the category labelled 'ultra inefficient kitchen maid', and therefore beneath her snobby notice, Harry's protective instincts were racing to the fore as he surged with a pang of indignation and sympathy on Mabel's behalf – who the hell was Emma to patronise Mabel! Considering their joint contributions to the evening's revels while the one had assaulted his eardrums the other soothed his taste buds. He knew who he'd be rooting for, a thought well to the forefront of his mind as he hastily refuted her admittedly truthful assessment.
"Not at all – you were talking about people and their lives, life is not a trivial topic." 'I should know I've spent most of my life trying to save those of others.'
Having mustered this reply just as they'd finally reached the ultimate destination of Jane's driveway he heard an unexpected groan from his would be hostess. Concerned that she might have hurt herself during their struggles he turned, and then followed the line of her eyes which were staring straight ahead. From the dull glow filtering through the surrounding variety of curtained windows it would seem that they were the last of the residents to arrive home. All he could discern was that one pair of windows, set at an angle overlooking Jane's front garden, remained well lit and open to the world, exposing a room stuffed full of expensive furniture and framed reproductions, that even from this distance Harry could identify as Sunday supplement modern art. Consequently he was somewhat perplexed by Jane's attitude until her explanation revealed all,
"Emma, she's spying to see if you come in, with a view to spreading tittle tattle around the village."
While Jane understandably didn't see the humour pertaining to the situation Harry was sardonically appreciating the superb irony that saw him, Sir Harry Pearce superspy, being tracked by the amateurish Emma Winnick. However not wanting to cause any further difficulties for Jane he said quietly, "Now I've escorted you safely home, I'll just go." Mentally cursing Emma Winnick, especially when he saw the look of regret that passed across Jane's features (Would Jane consider a kill order on the woman to be acceptable as a Christmas present – not really as I can't gift wrap it). Hoping to ease her obvious disappointment Harry reassured her, "I promise I'll contact you early in the New Year."
In a tart voice that took Harry by surprise it was Mabel who answered on Jane's behalf,
"What and let Madam win! She'll gossip anyway and I don't see why she should stop Jane inviting a nice young man in for coffee."
Only someone with eighty plus summers under her belt could possibly have characterised Harry as young, while various other bodies - those he'd left alive and standing - would have taken issue with the description nice, but cynical spook that he was, he was hardened neither against a sincerely meant compliment, however inaccurate, or the very real affection he detected Mabel had for Jane. Emboldened by this unexpected defence and taking a punt on Mabel possessing a sense of humour he chuckled evilly,
"Let's give her something to talk about. How about inviting Mabel in with us? Then Emma can suggest we're having a threesome."
"Harry, not in front of Mabel!" Jane scandalised tones were matched by an apprehensive look towards her neighbour, who responded by patting her arm comfortingly,
"Don't worry about me my dear. I was a teenager in London during the war, the things that went on in the Tube stations during air raids you wouldn't believe."
Harry smirking inwardly was beginning discover within himself a great liking for Mabel, while Jane pondering the suggestion finally agreed, "Very well then," prior to fumbling in her bag for her house keys. As they moved up the path Harry noticed a shadow skimming across the still unobscured window. From the outline he divined that it was Emma trying to obtain a closer look, blissfully unaware that her efforts to be covert were being severely hampered by her standing in the exact spot whereby her distinctive dumpy shape was fully illuminated by the light behind her.
Jane as she poked her key into the door snapped with ill disguised irritation, "That woman really is shameless – Harry!"
On receipt of a pretended friendly wave from Harry the woman had retreated and was now at least partly drawing the drapes, a lingering beam of light indicating that her information gathering activities remained operational.
"That's nothing to the gesture I'd like to make Jane."
Once inside the welcome centrally heated warmth of Jane's house all three of them, having shed their coats in the small hallway, stepped into the sitting room. Harry without seeming to stare was absorbing the decor. The interior was entirely innocent of anything relating to the perfidious Robin. The very impersonal atmosphere described by Laura on her first visit had been banished, replaced by a riot of personal taste, photographs of Catherine and Graham on the wall, books, DVD's and ornaments on the shelves, colours that Harry remembered were Jane's favourites, overall an ambience that was so very, very Jane. Sinking down into a comfortably squishy sofa Harry began to relax for the first time in the evening and with that also began to feel ever so slightly sleepy. The pangs of Morpheus were, for now, destined to be staved off by Mabel's renewed torrent of chatter, Jane having vanished into the kitchen to wrestle with a cafeteria.
Mabel was expressing her anxieties out loud, "I do hope Emma doesn't make trouble for Jane – she became really foul when Jane announced she was divorcing Robin, made all sorts of insinuations about Jane not supporting him and never being around and she's such a lovely person."
Harry assumed this last was a reference to Jane not Emma. Lovely wasn't the description he'd have employed a few weeks ago to described his ex – but circumstances since had ensured that he'd become insatiably curious about Jane's home life in his absence and Mabel was an impeccable source of Intel.
"When Arnold my husband died Jane was such a support, so very good helping me go to church when I was too depressed and couldn't face going on my own. Taking me shopping, just calling round for a chat when no one else came, she's been like a daughter to me."
It forcibly occurred to Harry that the relationship between Mabel and Jane was one of mutual support and he, while envious, was glad for Jane's sake. He knew exactly what it was like to feel alone both mentally and physically, it wasn't something he wanted for her. Mabel was continuing her informative monologue, "I'm afraid dear Jane has had bad luck with husbands. I don't know anything about her first as she never talks about her troubles, I only found out how awful Robin was being to her when she finally broke down one day – her sister was really ill, chemotherapy side effects, and he was complaining that she was spending all her time with Rebecca instead of being around for him. I heard him once yelling that she should be grateful he'd taken her and the children on when her first husband didn't want to know."
Harry wondered how Mabel would take the revelation that she was seated in the presence of Jane's uncaring first husband but while he was debating the wisdom of revealing his exact identity Jane emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with three mugs and cafeteria. Her arrival being the signal for Mabel to haul herself out of her armchair.
"Thank you but I'll skip coffee. I'll go home now my dear. I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up with."
Even as they both uttered polite disclaimers Harry was struck again by the kernel of understanding contained within Mabel's witterings as she threw a very knowing smile in his direction, "I see Jane most days but thank you Harry it's been a pleasure to meet you."
Jane recognising when someone was adamant, she'd had plenty of practice when married to Harry, insisted, "Very well Mabel but I'm walking you to your door – with luck Emma's now sitting down telephoning everyone in the village with the latest version of my scarlet woman antics."
Mabel, now out of Harry's sight as she retrieved her coat from the passageway, but blessed with the raised voice of the slightly deaf was heard to say as they departed, "She's just jealous my dear – when did an attractive man last show any interest in her."
Harry, having already gained the approval of Lottie, now felt as if he'd passed the hurdle of some sort of unspoken mother in law test. The one he'd failed miserably when married. The other part of his mind was still wondering if he'd been wise to come, it was good to see Jane happy and relaxed but he was all too aware of the slant that the likes of Emma Winnick would put on their relationship. He'd unintentionally made Jane the centre of uncomfortable gossip, perhaps he should just leave. Even as he considered that option he knew he'd reject it – as an activity it smacked of sneaking out of a woman's bedroom in the middle of the night without saying goodbye or even thanks. He'd done his fair share of that in his youth and what was unbecoming in youth was inexcusable in late middle age. It did make him wonder though if he should mention the underlying reason for his unexpected visit. Perhaps not, he'd just sit back and wait, have a coffee and leave. It occurred to him as he sank cosily into the sofa – he must congratulate Jane on her comfortable seating - that she'd been absent for longer than he expected, Mabel's tongue in action he assumed. Harry didn't really follow any thought through, the insidious warmth of the room and a long day had taken their toll as he gently dozed off.
Jane returning some twenty minutes later really felt that she owed Harry an apology. He obviously wanted to talk to her, as badly no doubt as she wanted to talk to him. Although she'd never plucked up the courage, after sending him her house keys and that note, to initiate any further contact with him, she'd hated the thought that he might think she was shunning him over Ruth Evershed. It was simply that she'd needed time to consider the outcomes of those frantic three weeks during which they'd attempted to reconnect with one another, and then the hassle of Christmas had intervened. Suddenly, unexpectedly he'd arrived, she wasn't entirely sure why or what he was seeking but of one thing she was certain, tonight Harry had for her sake endured an evening of the type he'd normally avoid. She appreciated his social efforts and his sensitivity in suggesting that he should leave, as she'd also appreciated his tolerance of Mabel. Entering the room quietly she saw him half stretched on the sofa, his chest rising and falling gently. It would be cruel to disturb him but oh dear, would they ever get the chance to talk.
Moving over towards him she noticed how tired he looked, shadows under his eyes bespoke overwork and his face, even in repose, seemed drawn. Some long denied quasi maternal instinct overtaking her she leant over him and brushed her lips gently against his cheek.
Within seconds a pair of strong arms were encircling her, pulling downwards as she was ruthlessly kissed.
This will be my last post before Christmas. Apologies as it is not an ideal point at which to delay posting. In the meantime a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone wherever they are in the world.