Birchington-on-Sea – Saturday 17th August 2013:

Ruth is woken by the touch of soft lips on her cheek. She turns towards them and sees Harry, fully dressed, leaning close to her. "Ohh," she complains sleepily. "I was hoping for …..."

"A repeat of last night?" he asks playfully, settling himself on the bed next to her, leaning in and kissing her on the lips.

"At least," Ruth mumbles between quick kisses, which end with Harry burying his face into the curve of her neck, nibbling at her skin. "You can't leave marks, Harry. However will I explain them? The people I work with think I'm a boring old spinster."

Harry sits up and looks down at her with lazy eyes. "Tell them you have a lover who breaks into your house during the night, ravishes you until you can barely walk, and then disappears when the sun comes up."

"I think I once read a book with a plot similar to that," she teases, smiling. "I take it you're due back at work this morning."

"I am, but I'd much rather be here with you. When can I come back, Ruth?"

"It's a bit far to travel just for a night of passion. I don't work Mondays and Tuesdays, but you do."

"I'll see what I can arrange. I'd suggest you come back to London and live with me, but it would be boring for you, with nothing to do during the day."

"I don't know about that. I could wallow in the bath all day, pampering myself for when you get home."

"You'd soon tire of that."

"I know." Ruth lies back against her pillow, and watches him as he closes the two buttons on his shirt which she'd only just opened.

"I can't turn up at work looking like I spent all night in a shag fest."

"If only." Ruth moves to get out of bed, but Harry puts a hand on her arm.

"Stay there," he says. "There's no need for you to see me out."

"You're going now?"

"It's almost 6 o'clock. I should be on the Grid by 8 at the latest."

They both avoid the very thing they most want to talk about. Ruth, however, feels they must address it face to face. "When, Harry? When will we see one another again? You managed to get here in an instant when you wanted to see me, but now you've seen me …. and slept with me ….. when will I see you again?"

Harry internally winces at her words. He wants to argue with her, but he knows there is also truth in what she says. "I didn't come here expecting sex, Ruth."

"I know. I wasn't implying you were. I was just ..."

"Testing me?" Ruth nods, a little embarrassed. "I can't say when we'll see one another again, but I'll try to have either Monday or Tuesday off. I don't wish to leave you here on your own for too long."

This time Ruth swings her legs out of bed, and quickly covers her nakedness with her bathrobe. She stands close to him, and he takes the bait and slides his hands under her bathrobe and around her waist. She presses her body against him. She is sure she can feel a stirring below his waist. "If you're going to get to work before midday, I'd suggest you leave now."

Harry kisses her quickly, and then turns to leave. Within twenty minutes he has booked out of his B&B and is on the road towards London. He feels a deep sadness at having to leave Ruth behind, but for now, that is the best option they have available to them.

Harry's day on the Grid passes quickly, with very little time for him to think about Ruth and worry about her. Just after 4 o'clock he rings Roxy at work, suggesting they meet for coffee at a coffee shop not far from her house. She agrees, although he can hear the coolness in her voice. He has deliberately chosen to meet for coffee at 5.30, rather than dinner at 7.30, and he hopes she can read into that code what he is about to tell her.

She has read it loud and clear. Harry arrives around five minutes late, and yet Roxy is not there. He waits for over half an hour, but she does not show. He is now the one receiving the message …. also loud and clear. Feeling annoyed with her for standing him up, he rings her mobile, only to have the call go straight through to voice mail. He'd rather explain to her face to face his decision to not see her again, and he'd also wanted to thank her for rescuing him from himself at a time in his life when he'd needed someone to care about him. He decides to leave no message, and hangs up.

He pays the bill and leaves the coffee shop, not seeing the woman sitting in an unfamiliar car across the street, covertly watching him as he strides to his car. Roxy Waterfield is hurt, and she does not take rejection well. All the same, she wants just one last look at the man who had made her feel like a woman worth loving. It had been wonderful while it lasted, but she had known all along that Harry Pearce was just too good to be true. She envies his Ruth, wherever she is.

After leaving the coffee shop, Harry heads back to work to put in another 3 hours, most of which is spent doing paperwork. Before he again addreses the pile of reports left on his desk by Grid staff, he goes online and orders a bouquet of flowers, along with an accompanying note of thanks and apology, and has them sent to Roxy at her home address. He knows it's a cop-out - an easy way to alleviate any residual guilt he feels - but it's clear she will not talk to him. He can't leave things as they are, so flowers it is. He suspects she'll throw them in the bin without reading the note, and for that he can't blame her. Apology flowers are not the same as I-love-you flowers. Jane had taught him that. Their bin at home had been a regular recipient of flowers he'd sent her in apology. Were he in Roxy's shoes, he too would be hurt and angry.

Earlier in the day he had spoken to Erin Watts, who had agreed to him working each Saturday and Sunday, leaving Monday, and even some Tuesdays free to visit Ruth in Kent. Harry is excited by the prospect, but before he can ring Ruth with the news, he rings his daughter.

"Catherine? It's Dad."

"I know that. It says so on my phone's display. Look, as much as I'd love to talk with you, I'm on a date, and I'd like to make a reasonable impression on the man concerned."

"Anyone I know?"

"I'll call you later." And then she had hung up.

Harry sits looking at his phone, wondering what it is about him that people don't wish to talk to him. It is just past 8 pm when he rings Ruth's mobile. It rings and rings, and eventually he is able to leave a voice mail. He is only mildly worried about her not answering the phone. Ruth is hardly the kind of woman to be waiting by the phone for a man to call. She may even have forgotten he was planning to ring her. Ten minutes later his mobile phone rings.

"Harry …. it's me. I was in the shower when you rang. I put in a full day at work today, and I have to work from 10 until 7 tomorrow."

"I wish I'd known you were in the shower. One of these days you should take the phone to the bathroom and put it on speaker phone, and I can then -"

"Harry!"

"What?"

"You're talking about phone sex, aren't you?"

"Yes. What's wrong with that?"

"Here was I thinking you're a nice, conservative man who always has sex in a bed every Friday night."

"You must be thinking of someone else, Ruth." Ruth giggles, and he feels his body responding to the tone of her voice. He never had this response when he spoke on the phone to Roxy. He sits up straight, and takes a deep breath. "I spoke to Erin today. She is encouraging me to see you regularly. Her words were something like: `Happy Section Head, happy section'. I've offered to work each weekend, so that I can spend Mondays, and - as often as I can – Tuesdays with you in Kent. I'll drive down each Sunday night, and come back either Tuesday or Wednesday morning. There's not a lot on at the moment, and Erin has agreed to take my meetings when they fall early in the week. Of course, there may be occasions when I can't get away at all."

"That's wonderful, Harry. You'll be here tomorrow night?"

"Wild horses can't keep me away."

They chat for a little longer before he hears Ruth stifling a yawn.

"Harry, if I'm to greet you tomorrow night with the passion you've come to expect, I need my beauty sleep."

"Alright. I understand. I'll let you go."

They take another few minutes over their goodnights, and then they agree to not speak again until Harry arrives after work the next evening.

Harry has settled on the sofa, BBC News playing on the TV in the background, a glass of whisky beside him on the small table, and his laptop resting on his knees. With one part of his brain he listens to the world news, while with another he checks his personal email. When his mobile phone rings, he notices that it is 11.17 pm. He prays that it is not work.

"Dad …." his daughter's voice greets him, "you're up late."

"As are you, sweetheart," he says gently. "Is something wrong?"

"Don't you want to know about my date?"

"Whenever I've asked you questions about boyfriends in the past, you've always growled at me, so as curious as I am, I'm not about to ask."

"How was Ruth? Was she pleased to see you?"

"Eventually."

"You stayed away two nights, Dad. Something must have gone right."

"If you say so."

"Calum said you were almost glowing today."

"Calum? When did you see him?"

"Oops. I've said too much already."

Oops? Since when does Catherine say Oops? "Your date was Calum? Are you completely out of your mind? For a start, he's years older than you." Harry can feel his voice getting louder as he imagines giving his precious daughter away at her marriage to Calum Bloody Reid. Over my dead body!

"This is the very reason I never tell you about my dates. He's only five years older than me. Tell me again the age difference between you and Ruth?"

Tou-bloody-ché. Trust his clever daughter to pick up on that one. "He's a spy."

"So are you."

"Do you love him?"

"Define love. I dare you."

"Alright, alright. I agree that's none of my business, and it's a stupid question."

"Do you love Ruth?"

"Of course I love her."

"Define what that means."

"I can't. I just know it. I would give my life to save hers, just as I would give my life to save yours."

"Well, I have no desire to do that for Calum, so no, I guess I don't love him, and as annoying as I find him, he makes me laugh."

"Alright, but if he hurts you, I'll be recommending the death sentence for him."

"Oh, Dad …."

"What?"

"I'm tougher than that."

"I know you are, sweetheart. Just don't let him hurt you. If he treats you badly, I'll sack him, or send him to the Middle East."

"I didn't know MI5 had agents in the Middle East."

"They don't, but I can easily create a new position ….. just for him. Do you like him?"

"Yes. I do. We've spent the last eighteen months fighting, but we discovered only a few days ago – the night you found out Ruth was still alive – that we had simply misunderstood one another. He's quite sweet, you know."

Harry grimaces, and then he yawns. "I think I should turn in," he says.

They say their goodnights, and the last words Harry says to his daughter before they end the call is "Be careful." They are the very words he needs to be saying to himself.

As he curls his body under the duvet, his last thought before he falls asleep is of Ruth. In less than 24 hours he will again be holding her in his arms.

Towards morning Harry again dreams.

This time, he is walking along one side of the street, watching Ruth walking in the same direction on the other side. Every now and again a large vehicle – a bus, a lorry – drives past, and he expects to lose sight of her, but when the vehicle has passed, she is still there, head down, walking purposefully. Harry almost bumps into a lamp post and he steps aside to avoid it. When he again looks towards Ruth she has gone. He attempts to cross the road to get closer, but the road is suddenly busy with cyclists, taxis and several buses. He stands – frustrated – unable to cross, catching sight of her in the distance, hurrying away from him.

When Harry wakes, he is exhausted and upset. Perhaps there is a part of him which still fears losing Ruth. He sighs and rolls out of bed. He has a full day of work to get through before he will see Ruth again.