Disclaimer – I still don't own anything…

Thanks to Em, Helen, Kate and Laurie


Requiem for a love affair

Chapter 10

Harry stretched out in the bed and cursed under his breath as his back protested at the sudden movement. Evidently, it wasn't just sleeping in his car he was too old for. It seemed he'd been naïve about how Ruth would respond to seeing him; an ironic notion. She had been convinced he thought she was naïve but had he really expected her to fall into his arms and smother him in kisses whilst pledging undying love? He had certainly hoped she would be happy to see him but he had been shocked by her reaction; that sudden, angry and intimate response had expressed the depth of her feelings. Their enforced separation had been unbearable for both of them but her agony had been compounded by his faked death. Her quiet revelation of the nightmares she'd suffered had broken his heart and he didn't know how he could ever make it up to her.

The sound of voices from downstairs interrupted his thoughts; the neighbour must have arrived as expected. He sat up carefully and swung his legs out of the bed. He found his watch on the bedside table and squinted at the dial; it was nearly eleven-thirty. It had been years since he'd slept this late and Ruth's assertion that he was exhausted had clearly been accurate. Now though, he needed a shower and a shave. He groaned; his razor, along with everything else, was in his car, which was where he'd left it last night and his clothes…were neatly folded on a chair by the window; her organisational skills were evidently undiminished.

-----

"I didn't realise you had a visitor Louise." A tall, elegant, immaculately dressed brunette surveyed Harry with amused curiosity when he appeared in the kitchen.

Ruth was panic-stricken. "I, well I…"

"Oh, I turned up late and totally unexpectedly." Harry offered his hand, "I'm Robert by the way, an old friend of Louise's."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Robert, I'm Claudia."

"You'll have to forgive my appearance; we spent most of the night catching up. I haven't even got my luggage out of the car yet."

The slight movement of a neatly plucked eyebrow was the only indication of Claudia's interpretation of 'catching up'. "So, have you known Louise a long time?"

"Quite a while. Our paths used to cross on a regular basis."

"Did you work at the University together?" The Italian was obviously well-informed about Ruth's legend.

"No, but Louise used to do research work for me from time to time."

Ruth watched him subtly blending truth and lies into falsehoods that fell easily from his lips; all delivered with smooth, practised charm. She felt a fleeting sense of unease. He'd already demonstrated he would willingly sacrifice his liberty for her by attempting to save her from Mace's machinations. What else had he done in her name?

"If you'll excuse me, I really should get cleaned up." Harry gave a Claudia a dazzling smile and then turned to Ruth, "have you seen my car keys?"

She stared blankly at him.

"I think I must have put them down in here." As he looked at her, he willed her not to say something out of place.

Realisation dawned. "Oh yes, I found them," she held the keys out to him.

Harry smiled at her as he took them. "I won't be long."

As he was about to leave, Claudia spoke:

"Your car, is it the Mercedes with the Swiss license plates?" Harry nodded and she continued, "I wondered who that belonged to."

Observant as well as intelligent and attractive, he noted as he held her gaze for a moment; something to bear in mind.

She turned to Ruth, "you don't mind if I borrow your handsome friend for a few minutes do you? He can walk me home and tell me all about himself."

-----

When Harry returned, Ruth was washing some dishes.

"Claudia seems nice." There was no response. "Ruth?"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't flirt with the neighbours."

"I wasn't flirting, I was being polite," he said evenly.

A plate hit the edge of the sink and cracked. "Shit!"

"Is everything alright?"

"No! It's not bloody alright!" The pieces of broken crockery landed heavily on the draining board. "Christ Harry! I had no idea what name you're using but you seemed more interested in chatting up my glamorous neighbour."

He was stung by the bitterness in her voice.

"I wasn't flirting or chatting her up or doing anything else for that matter. I was making conversation. Don't you think it might have looked a bit suspicious if I'd been offhand or ignored her?"

"I suppose so."

Harry moved closer to her. "She's worried about you. She told me you'd been upset about losing someone close."

"Well, I have been. I thought I'd lost you."

"I know." He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. "She cares about you Ruth. She told me to look after you."

"Did she?" Her words were muffled.

"Yes; and that's what I intend to do."

"Good, because I quite like that idea," she wrinkled her nose slightly and pushed him away, "but you really do need a shower."

"And whose fault is that? I seem to recall you got me all hot and bothered."

"I seem to recall it didn't take that much effort…" she was cut off by a passionate but tender kiss, which she savoured before wriggling out of his grasp. "Please have a shave as well – the designer stubble look doesn't suit you."

"Anything else?"

"No," she shooed him out of the kitchen, "go on and I'll make us some lunch."

-----

A familiar, but much missed, sensation made Ruth turn around. Harry was watching her as he leant casually against the doorframe. Her eyes travelled over him, taking in his appearance. He looked leaner and fitter than when she had left him in London, and younger too, now he was clean-shaven.

"So, do I pass muster then?" He was smiling as he spoke.

"You seem to be in quite good condition for a dead man." She dried her hands as she gazed at him, "come here, I need to do a closer inspection."

Harry pushed himself upright and walked slowly across the floor. He stopped just in front of her and she studied his face carefully, raising a hand to tilt his chin up when she spotted something on his jaw line.

"That's new," she said running a finger over a small red mark, "how did you get it?"

"Someone punched me." At her questioning look he continued, "I probably deserved it."

"Hmmm." She reached up and kissed the scar gently, increasing the pressure as she felt his arms wrap round her. Her lips moved to his neck and she smiled against him when he sighed her name.

They stood for several minutes, contentedly holding on to each other.

"I love you Ruth." He had spoken so quietly she wasn't sure he'd said the words out loud until she met his gaze. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes and months of loneliness and grief started to recede.

"And I love you, always."

She didn't know whether he kissed her or she kissed him; she didn't know anything apart from the taste of his mouth and the sensation of his tongue stroking against hers. When they broke apart, they were both breathless and slightly dazed.

Harry pressed his lips to her forehead before whispering, "we could go back to bed."

"You are incorrigible!" The remark was accompanied by a playful slap on his chest and she felt something in the breast pocket of his shirt. Without waiting to ask him, she retrieved the item.

He watched the emotions pass across her face as she realised what she was holding: the postcard of Offa she had sent him over a year ago.

"You kept it…" her voice was choked and her eyes shone.

"Next to my heart."

She half-laughed, half-sobbed, "You silly, wonderful, romantic old fool."

"Not so old if you don't mind," he murmured as he brushed away a rogue tear that had evaded her attempts to suppress it; "but definitely a fool. I should never have let you get on that boat..."

"Stop," she pressed her fingers against his lips. "What's done is done. No more regrets Harry, please."

He nodded. "OK."

She smiled at him and tucked the small piece of card back into his shirt pocket as he leant down and kissed her. Ruth felt him wince as she slid her arms round his waist. "Is your back still sore?"

"Yes, a bit."

"I've got something for that."

She started to hunt through one of the cupboards and a few moments later turned to face him again holding up what appeared to be a tube of antiseptic cream.

"You'll have to take your shirt off."

He gave her an amused look. "That's how I ended up in this state in the first place."

"Stop complaining," she tugged at the material as he started to undo the buttons.

"I can manage."

"Hmm, you'll have to undo your trousers too." Her fingers were already freeing the buckle of his belt.

"I wouldn't have bothered getting dressed if I'd known you wanted to…"

"Behave!" She glared at him but the effect was lessened as the smile she was trying to hold back broke free.

As Harry removed his shirt, she made him turn round and lean against the counter. Her fingers worked carefully over his damaged skin, the pain diminishing more from her touch than from whatever ointment she was applying.

"Better?"

"Much."

Her hands moved round to his chest and he smiled as he felt her stand on tiptoe and kiss the back of his neck. "Is this all part of the treatment?" he asked her softly.

"Yes it is," her teeth grazed over his earlobe, "and didn't you say something about going back to bed?"

"What about lunch?"

"Lunch can wait."

He laughed, "and I thought I was the incorrigible one."

A review would be lovely… and will encourage me to write the next chapter, which starts to tie up a few loose ends