Many thanks to all who read and even more to those who reviewed my last chapter. A belated happy New Year to you all.

While the breath was being squeezed out of her and with limited room for manoeuvre, Jane wasn't sure as to her reaction. Her mind might be sending out the instruction that responding to Harry's embrace was a very bad idea indeed, but in so doing it had embarked upon a furious contest with her body, which was persistently transmitting a very different message.

Mind v body: head v heat. She was grateful to be spared making a decision, even if it came at the price of being tipped unceremoniously onto the carpet, narrowly avoiding concussion by coffee table when she was sent sprawling, the logical result of Harry's having released her just as suddenly as he grabbed her, once again without the benefit of warning.

Staring upwards from her floor based worm's eye vantage point she could see the half awake Harry now sitting bolt upright up, his face stamped with appalled bafflement as he gazed down at her. While she was temporarily occupied with heaving herself into a more dignified position the last clinging vestiges of sleep were fleeing from his face as he began to process exactly what had taken place. Almost stammering with embarrassment, in itself a rarity since spies didn't, in the normal run of life, do embarrassment,

"God I'm sorry Jane I didn't mean..." at which point he faltered, recognition having dawned that whatever he said next, however tactfully he attempted to phrase it, would be insulting. Faced with the academic problem of explaining himself he genuinely wasn't sure which would be worse. Telling a woman you didn't mean to kiss her in the first place, or when having decided in the second that, given their particular circumstances, it wasn't the act of a gentleman you'd dumped her, in this case quite literally.

From her position near Harry's feet Jane responded, "So I'd gathered, but as I'm no good at grovelling could we have this conversation once I'm not imitating a doormat."

With those words she pulled herself into a vertical position before seeking refuge in the chair directly opposite him, trying to soothe away his abashed expression with a confession. "Don't blame yourself, it was probably my fault."

Shocked out of his continuing internal debate Harry expostulated "How on earth do you make that out?"

Now it was her turn to feel uncomfortable. "You were dozing and ...I don't know what came over me but..." She faltered, decided to get it over with and then gabbled, "I leant over and kissed you on the forehead and then..."

It was a tossup who was now the more discomfited. Trying to be matter of fact, while kicking herself and deep down feeling nervous, she added, "Obviously you were thinking it was..." finishing ruefully "well we can't help our dreams." As she fought down an unexpected impulse to cry.

Harry was fighting his own impulse. Not the mannerly one that was advising him to leave now before he did anything else foolish, but the one that was inclined to back track by about three minutes and continue kissing her. Neither was good: in different ways, they'd just lead to regret, rows and, fatally, a return to their previous lengthy estrangement, thus ensuring the destruction of the one decent thing that had happened to him since Ruth's death.

Although historically Harry was rarely short of a smooth reply he was, for once, struggling to find the appropriate words to match a situation that was unexpected, unusual and very delicate. In the absence of any suitable choice he'd have favoured the defence of silence, but with Jane's eyes now staring uncertainly at her feet he felt forced to say something comforting. Emboldened by the realisation that she was feeling every bit as maladroit as himself he finally managed the risky option, the truth.

"Yes I probably did wake up to that particular imagining, as you said we can't help our unconscious mind." Taking a deep breath in lieu of a fortifying whisky he continued, "But believe me, when I realised it was you I was very tempted to continue."

If anything he'd confused her even further.

"So why ...?"

"Did I stop...out of respect."

As her eyebrows drew together in a puzzlement, which considering his past behaviours was entirely understandable, he tried again, "Jane I be lying if I said I wasn't physically attracted to you, but I want to remain on good terms and I know that I can't give you what you what you should be given in a relationship that strays beyond the borders of friendship."

She wasn't sure whether to be touched by his consideration and efforts to be tactful, not the qualities she'd associated with the Harry of three decades ago, or irritated as she enquired quietly, "Shouldn't I be the judge of what I am willing to accept?"

"Of course, but quite simply Jane you deserve better than a second best."

He was desperately trying to marshal a set of very confused thoughts into some acceptable order. He wanted to be honest and yet his attempts to avoid upsetting her were beginning to resemble an act akin to tightrope walking over Niagara Falls, and he'd always been utterly useless at emotional balance.

"You know how difficult I find this type of conversation, let's just say that unless I can be with anyone, let alone you, without..." He gave up, whatever he said would be hurtful, he'd best make his excuses and leave before she threw him out. Jane it transpired had other ideas, sighing as she picking up his abandoned thread of reasoning.

"You mean until Ruth ceases to become a shadowy third in any encounter."

Grateful for her understanding he nodded, "I know how that sounds but..."

It was Jane's turn to try some reassurance as with a wan smile she informed him, "What it sounds like Harry is that at nearly sixty you've finally grown up and started acquiring some emotional intelligence."

A reply that left him wondering how on earth she contrived to throw out a reasonable statement, a compliment even, and yet still sound critical? Whatever had happened to the positive affirmation that the teaching profession were required to lavish endlessly on their charges? While he was marvelling at this particular skill set Jane embarked upon voicing her own, not dissimilar, position.

"Likewise I suppose. Until the divorce is through I shouldn't even consider becoming involved with anyone. I can do without Robin laying a counter charge of adultery, and I'd willingly bet that Emma Winnick is on the phone to him right now."

Harry, greatly relieved that they'd returned to more neutral and familiar topics, broke into a near approximation of his old boyish grin, "I'd agree that we need to stick to saying that we are old friends, mainly to avoid nosey questions, but really Jane... Emma Winnick and Cock Robin - or rather Robin the Tit... are least of your worries."

"Harry..."

"Yes"

"Just don't, and don't look so innocent either, you know exactly what I mean."

"Not to worry. If I was going to kill Robin I'd have done it years ago." Casting a downwards glance at his watch he concluded with, "Anyway if I'm going to make London before midnight I should be moving."

Expecting Jane to be look thankful at the prospect of his removing himself he was astonished when he noted that all too familiar expression on her face, a combination of exasperation and resignation.

"Don't be an idiot Harry, and don't treat me like one either. I'm assuming that you didn't just drop into see me tonight without a reason - so tell." It was a command rather than a request.

Harry almost sighed, he knew it was foolish to have come but it was equally plain that he wasn't going to get out of the front door without giving Jane some explanation for his presence, and on her record of detecting his lies it had to be the truth.

"I didn't have one reason." He smiled at her glare, 'I can still get a rise out of you, Jane' and headed off the imminent explosion, "I had two." Taking advantaged of her dumbfounded reaction he disappeared into the hallway and, having located his outdoor coat ferreted around in its deep pockets, before reappearing in the sitting room holding three small packages in his hands.

"I know that the children are visiting you for Christmas so I thought I'd drop off your presents in person." With a touch of ruthfulness he admitted, "It's unlikely I'd see Graham anyway."

A statement that instantly made Jane feel guilty, especially since Graham had been to visit her only a couple of weeks previously, 'Sorry Mum but I just can't cope with Dad at present' as she stuttered, "Well if you'd like to ..." only to be interrupted by Harry's reassuring her, "No Jane not a hint ... I'm working on Christmas day – although I might just about manage to pull a Christmas cracker with Malcolm."

"Not the female variety I assume then."

Harry laughed outright, "Hardly. We'll be manning the Grid, someone has to check the terrorists don't take advantage of everyone in the Western World being stuffed with mince pies and goodwill."

Jane nodded as she asked, "And your second reason?"

Harry began to writhe inwardly, "Ah not sure you won't think that inappropriate after the er incident we were discussing but..." reverting to delaying tactics he asked, "You know that next year we have the Queen's Diamond Jubilee closely followed by the Olympics?"

"Not having been stranded on a desert island for the past few months of course – what of it?"

Harry suddenly felt his mouth go dry, this was an utterly idiotic request but once launched he had to finish, "Well these events have a number of official receptions and events attached to them and ...well I need ..." He paused and shrugged, prior to uttering a despondent, "Forget it."

Noting his almost comical diffidence as he'd inched his apprehensive way through his not quite proposition Jane was repressing an urge to laugh as she attempt to clarify what had been left unsaid, hoping she'd not misinterpreted his intentions, "Harry are you by any chance making an enquiry about my availability to be a plus one?" Harry having noted that she certainly didn't look affronted at the suggestion confirmed her guess, "I mean no strings, but it would help me out and give you some good networking opportunities if you were so minded."

Presented as fifty percent for him and fifty for her Jane had no difficultly in divining his more hidden motive. "I assume you mean that you need protection from predatory females keen to soothe your hurts. "

As ever she'd seen through him. "I know that sounds conceited but..."

"No need for modesty Harry, remember I've seen the effect you have on women first hand. 'And been a victim myself come to that' Of course I'll help you out, I need to visit London more frequently these days anyway so just send me the dates so I can organise myself." As an afterthought she added, "And promise me one thing."

Harry hesitated, reluctant to ask which impossible condition she was about to make as an excuse to renege on her just given word, "Which is?"

"Don't get shot, it cost a fortune getting my dress cleaned after the last event we plus oned at."

Harry was nearly sagging with relief, "I'll try to avoid that eventuality. Thanks and now I really must go if I'm to make London in reasonable time."

Jane rolled her eyes as she complained in a mournful tone, "Now you've got what you want, you depart. Typical."

Harry was about to apologise and reassure her when he caught the mischievous glint in her eye.

"Well I'd hate you to think I was an entirely changed man."

"Leopards and spots Harry, anyway I suppose that you prove the truth of that old feminist saw." Unable to resist his quizzical expression she continued,"It's not an exact quote but is something along the lines that when a woman chooses a mate for life she has a choice between something wild and exciting like a mountain goat, or tame and uninteresting like a goldfish."

Harry could have been affronted but instead chose to laugh, "Well you can let me know which category you think Towers comes into, he was asking after you the other day. I think you made quite an impression there."

"Almost literally when I cannoned into him at the Reception. Anyway if you do have to go I'd best fetch your coat."

Jane vanished to pick up said item leaving him to contemplate the tenor of their conversation. Had he been right to come? On balance he thought he had been. Despite the acute embarrassment of their inadvertent tangling on the sofa they had established a level of understanding and some ground rules, nor was what he'd admitted to Jane a lie, with the Christmas party season in full swing he'd been forced to swat away some very direct feminine approaches, Jane and her tongue were a very acceptable, not to say decorative, form of defence. His reverie was disturbed by a loudly proclaimed, 'Damn,' emanating from the area currently inhabited by Jane.

Curious as what had brought forth the exclamation he wasn't left in doubt for long when Jane reappeared carrying his coat and wearing an annoyed expression on her face. Accurately assessing his worry as to what he'd done now she hastily explained, "Sorry Harry I'm furious with myself for leaving my scarf behind at the Hall."

"Surely you have more than one!" Harry found it hard to believe that Jane, whose wardrobe could never have been described as under stocked, was so attached to a particular item of clothing.

"Of course I have, but this happens to be a silk scarf Catherine brought back from her travels."

That testy reply made sense, Harry had a couple of odd gifts at home, small object's d'art that Catherine brought home from her travels, and he cherished them for that very reason, a symbol that his child had thought of him. Not that Jane had any cause for concern; a simple solution was at hand.

"I have a picklock with me so if we head down to the Hall I can..."

Jane broke across his forthcoming suggestion with a scandalised, "Harry you can't."

"And the alternative?"

"I go the Vicarage and ask James for the key."

Harry really believed that she was making an unnecessary fuss, a quiet trip and click to the Hall lock and the matter would be resolved, but he recognised determination when he heard it, and was fearful that if he argued she'd recall why she hated his job, and with that recollection withdraw her consent to being his plus one. The women who kept stalking him were a far greater risk threat to his well being than the loss of time implied by tamely bothering the cleric. Especially when the latter was almost certainly cosily ensconced at home, recovering from the evening's revels while trying to compose a sermon that might just be listened to, so doing things Jane's way was hardly likely to delay him by more than fifteen minutes or so. Sighing with the resignation of one whose only real choice was capitulation he agreed,

"Very well Jane put your coat on. I'll escort you there, and to the Hall. Then we'll pick up my car on the way back which will allow me to drop you home before setting off myself."

Jane inevitably began with unnecessary disclaimers which he stoutly cut across, he'd only stand for so much nonsense.

"Yes it is necessary Jane. This may be a quiet country village but the paths are more like a municipal skating rink, do you really want to risk a broken leg for Christmas."

Jane subsided, not entirely overborne by his arguments but, glad of his company which she'd rather missed since her return to singledom a few weeks ago, did as she was bid and muffled herself up in a warm woollen coat before grabbing her keys accompanied by a single word, "Ready."

Once outside the freezing air again made them catch their breaths. Harry's quick glance towards the Winnick mansion revealed that while the potentially envious audience, ie Emma Winnick, may have drawn her blinds, an infinitesimal twitch indicated that she was still on watch. Really did the woman have nothing else to do – no wonder her husband drank to the point of almost oblivion!

Thinking of neighbours reminded Harry to enquire of Jane, "Was there a problem at Mabel's? You were gone rather longer than I'd expected."

He had to wait a few seconds for a reply as Jane was fighting to stay on her feet. When they finally reached the marginally less frosted portion of paving that lead down to the bridge, and thence to the green where Harry had parked his car, she managed to deliver a semi breathless explanation.

"Ah that was due to Crispin Winnick, Emma's son calling round. He'd sneaked out the back door and come to apologise to Mabel for his parents' behaviour." After catching her breath she owned up an earlier misjudgement. "I used to think he was as awful as the rest of the family but recently he's joined the local Army Cadets and they seem to have taught him a few manners and sense of responsibility. Anyway whatever the reason he's turned into a very nice boy, his Mum doesn't know but while she's out and about spreading her poison he's been undertaking various bits of heavy gardening for Mabel for free."

"Ah nothing like the military to drum some discipline into young men. I should know."

"Yes I'm currently clutching a shining example." Before Harry could work out if this was sarcasm, he never quite knew with Jane these days, part of the attraction he supposed, she added a piece of information that startled him slightly, "And of course that is why Emma loathes James."

"Sorry you've lost me!"

"James our vicar, he's ex military and chaplain to the local Army Cadet Force. Emma blames him for Crispin joining, in that arty household it's all a bit too macho."

That nugget of information explained why Harry had felt an instant sense of kinship with James, although he did wonder how he'd fetched up in a country village. Not wanting to ask obtrusive questions, he'd use the Grid sources for that, he turned the conversation as they crossed the silent green, currently something of misnomer given its crunchy underfoot coating of white, its light colour illuminated only by the dim moonbeams, partly obscured by a few straying clouds.

"Speaking of young men Wes wanted to know when you are turning up at his school. They're hoping for more on the 'Titus'."

"Next term but I thought we'd work on Macbeth – the lust for power, betrayal of friends, the sheer paranoia of wondering who is planning to topple you."

"Sounds like my working life."

Jane caught the odd note of sadness but didn't have time to pick up the reference as they'd now reached the outer edge of the frosted green. Opening the gate that lead up to the slightly shabby house on the corner, that Harry assumed served as the Vicarage, she approached the door. Ringing the bell firmly she was surprised to receive no reply. When a second long ring was equally unforthcoming she turned to Harry with what, under cruel glare of the security light, was a washed out troubled face.

"Strange, he should be back by now unless..."

Taking advantage of the pause for thought Harry asked "Unless what..."

"Well I suppose he might be checking something at the Church, I know we've a couple of days to go before Christmas but..."

Harry repressed a groan, if only she'd let him break into the Hall it would be so much easier. Not wanting to refloat that solution he suggested as evenly as he could, "Then let's go and check."

Jane was feeling ultra guilty by now. If only she'd kept her mouth shut about the scarf, which she could have retrieved tomorrow, Harry wouldn't have been delayed and by now would be well on his way home. He was looking as if exhaustion was permanently etched upon his face. With a pang she recalled that it was only a few weeks ago since he'd been fighting for his life. Knowing him, and having had the eye opening experience of life as an honorary spook, she was quite certain that he'd not been taking life easy, more likely he was back to working silly hours eased by only by the relaxation of overdosing on whisky. Still she'd dragged him so far and the church was only a short slither down the lane.

Hugging arms again they approached the church, both noticing almost simultaneously that the large van that had been so inconsiderately parked earlier had been moved. Just about to voice her pleasure that its owners had seemingly departed from the village Jane suddenly felt herself being jerked backwards by Harry, his other arm suddenly going around her neck, his hand across her mouth stifling the exclamation she was about to make. Before she could begin to struggle she felt his breath warm on her ear as he hissed, "Quiet Jane and don't move. Do you see where that van is now?"

As the constricting arm eased she glanced up at him, the sight of his eyes grim and alert only increased her apprehensions. Following his line of vision she noted that the vehicle in question had only been moved about three yards and was now standing so near the gate to the church pathway that it was virtually blocking all access up and down the deserted lane. As her eyes focussed she discerned faint lights moving around in the dark of the churchyard.

Turning back to Harry she was about to ask but he'd second guessed her, saying in a very low whisper designed to carry only as far as her ears,

"I don't know what is up Jane, but with James absent from the vicarage it's nothing good." Fishing in his pockets he produced his car keys.

"Take the car, go home and ring for help."

Jane was about to argue with his peremptory tone when a crash, followed by a loud alarmed shout echoed across from the direction of the graveyard. Releasing her Harry turned towards the sound as he instructed her staccato style.

"Jane. Go. Now."

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