Next morning, Ruth entered the Grid as Daniela Moreno, an analyst on short-term secondment from GCHQ. Tweaking the GCHQ records was an everyday task for Malcolm.
Harry went straight to his office, but watched from his desk, as Ruth was greeted by Grid personnel.
"It's wonderful to see you here …... where you belong," Malcolm had said quietly, before heading back to his desk.
Ruth had been shocked by Jo's appearance, trying hard to not stare at her very short, bleached hair, and the barely disguised fear in her eyes. The younger woman appeared to be operating on adrenalin alone. Ruth held on to her long after the hug had officially ended. "I hope you're being careful," Ruth said against her ear.
"I am. Really, I am," Jo replied, pulling away, and looking into Ruth's eyes. "Harry needs you, Ruth. He was …. different while you were away …... detached, not quite here."
Ruth nodded. "I know."
"I'll update you in a moment …... once you've greeted everyone."
"Jo ….. I'm ….. really sorry about Zaf."
"Nothing's official yet," Jo said quickly, her eyes bright with hope. "He could be anywhere. Knowing Zaf, he'll walk in here one day, accusing us all of being slackers."
Ruth didn't know how to reply to that, so she looked past Jo to where Ros hovered, clearly uneasy.
"Hello, Ros," she said.
"Hello …... do I call you Daniela …... or can I call you Ruth?"
"I answer to either."
"I hope you don't mind if I don't ….. you know …... hug you. I don't do hugging."
"I know."
"Harry's glad you're back, and because of that, I am also."
Ruth nodded, as Ros turned, and strode back to her own desk. She had been gone for over eight months, and yet nothing – and everything – had changed.
It took Ruth less than five days to find clear links between Dr Farrin Parsi and the governments of India, USA, and France. She was playing them all off against each other, and had planned selling her vaccine to the highest bidder. To whichever country her vaccine had gone, she would not have been useful once the exchange had taken place. Gregor Campbell had sanctioned her contacts, but his signature could easily have been faked. Ruth had a suspicion that until Harry had contacted him, Campbell had not been fully informed about everything Farrin Parsi had been planning.
"I'm so glad we had you here to clear that up," Harry said, leaning over the back of her chair, his hand resting on the desk, so that his face was close to hers. "Don't tell anyone, but before you arrived, I was contemplating bringing in all the London-based security personnel from the three countries, and applying some old-fashioned techniques of persuasion. I was rather looking forward to it, too."
Ruth turned to face him, her eyes flicking between his eyes and his mouth. "It's a good thing I had to come home, then, isn't it?"
"It's much more than a good thing."
"Harry," came Ros' voice from across the Grid. "About this monumentally temperamental Iranian scientist. What should we do with her?"
"For now, we do nothing," Harry replied.
Ruth and Harry left the Grid early on the fifth day, with Harry promising to take her to dinner.
"I'd rather eat in, if that's alright," Ruth had answered.
"I'm happy if you are," Harry replied.
Ruth headed for the shower, while Harry began making dinner. She stood under the hot water, attempting to scrub away all her fears about being found and sent to prison.
Dinner was quiet, with each of them lost inside their own thoughts. Eventually, Harry was the one to speak first.
"Ros told me today she almost has everything she needs for you to reclaim your own identity."
"Yes, she told me the same thing."
"Ruth …... I've been …... I'm worried you won't want to stay in London …... that you'll want your new life back."
Ruth darted him a quick glare across the table. "What makes you think that? Even if I wanted to, I can't go back."
"And you don't want to?"
"Of course I don't want to, you daft man. I never wanted to leave London in the first place."
Ruth noticed Harry's shoulders relaxing, and then he sat back in his chair, glass of wine in one hand, as he smiled at her, his expression unreadable.
"How long will you stay in this house with me?" Ruth asked, as a little later they stood side by side at the sink, washing and drying the dishes.
"As long as it takes. I can't leave you here alone, at least until your name is cleared. You need ….."
"Protection?"
Harry nodded. "You don't mind me being her?"
"On the contrary. I like having you here. It's such a change to have company, and you're rather good company, Harry."
He turned to her then, and beamed. Sometimes, Harry was very easily pleased.
"If the service wants to sell this house, I might put in an offer, and then we can live here together. I like it here ... like this."
Ruth had no idea how to reply to that, so she pretended to not have heard him.
Once they had cleaned up after dinner, Ruth excused herself and retired to her room. The air between them had become highly charged, and she wasn't sure she was up to dealing with it. Harry had taken to giving her long looks, and she had avoided his eyes, not sure how best to respond to him. She changed into the pyjamas she'd bought on her first day back in London, and crawled under the duvet. Sleep was elusive. She lay in the semi-darkness, listening to Harry down the hall, as he visited the bathroom, flushed the toilet, and then she heard the long rush of water as he showered. Ruth had to suppress thoughts of Harry in the shower, and she even turned over in bed, and closed her eyes, which just rendered the images more vivid.
When she awoke, it was still dark outside, and the street outside her window was quiet, but it was a sound from within the house that had woken her. She sat up in bed and listened. It was Harry, and he was talking to someone. Very quietly, she climbed out of bed, slipped on her slippers and bathrobe, and crept down the hallway, and across the landing to Harry's door, which was slightly ajar. She slid silently through the gap in the doorway, and rested her back against the wall, while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She could see the shape of him under the duvet, and he was moving his head from side to side, mumbling something about tug boats. Ruth knew she was taking liberties, but she crept across the carpet, and sat on Harry's bed, less than a yard away from where he was chattering about the Thames, tug boats, and Zaf. It was clear to Ruth he was not in any kind of distress, and perhaps he always talked in his sleep, so she was about to stand and leave, when he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, exhaling heavily in a long sigh.
"Are you alright?" she whispered.
Harry turned his head, and took a few moments to move from his dreaming state to being awake.
"How did you get in here?" he asked her.
"I walked. Down the hallway. You were talking in your sleep, and it woke me. Do you want to talk about it?"
Harry shook his head, still staring at her. Ruth looked around the room. It was sparse and uninspiring. She'd have nightmares, too, were she to have to sleep in it.
"Come to my room, Harry. You can sleep in my bed. There's plenty of room. It might help with the nightmares were you to have company."
In asking him to share her bed, Ruth had no ulterior motive. It simply appeared to be the most practical solution. "I'm talking about sleeping, Harry. I'm not trying to seduce you."
"Pity," he said, smiling.
"I'm going back to bed now. You can follow me. Or not. It's your choice, but you're very welcome to join me."
Back in her own room, Ruth slid over to the far side of her bed, should Harry want to join her in bed. She had only just settled against her pillow, when she heard a light knock on her bedroom door, and when it opened, Harry stood there. He slowly made his way to the bed, but stopped, his hand grasping the corner of the duvet.
"Are you sure about this?" he whispered.
"I'm sure. Get in, before we both freeze."
Harry removed his bathrobe, and then slid under the duvet, while Ruth watched. He wore a pair of striped blue and white pyjama pants, and a black t-shirt. She smiled to herself. Somehow, she had expected him to wear a shirt and tie to bed. It took a while before both were comfortable.
"It's been a long time since I slept with anyone," he said.
"Me too."
"I didn't mean that as …... I wasn't talking about sleeping in a biblical sense, Ruth."
"I know. Nor was I."
"Can I …... can I move closer to you? I'd like some of your warmth."
"Of course. We won't be the only ones on the bed who are curled up together for warmth and comfort."
"What?" Harry lifted his head and looked around. On the foot of the bed, Scarlet and Fidget were wound around one another, sleeping, although Scarlet had lifted her head when first she'd heard Harry's voice. Fidget slept on, clearly disinterested.
"Cross species loving," Harry commented wryly.
"I think it's a case of attraction between opposites."
"They certainly get on well," Harry added, sliding his feet under the covers until they rested against her feet. "Right from the start, they hit it off."
"Her gentle, forgiving nature provides a counterpoint to his moodiness and sudden bursts of temper."
"But that's no doubt because he doesn't always know what to say to her …... or how to tell her how he feels about her."
By this time, they both knew they were no longer discussing Scarlet and Fidget.
"But she forgives him anyway, and lets him share her sleeping space," Ruth added quietly.
"If they were ever to be parted again, he'd be distraught, so they sleep together to make their time together more …..."
"To give it meaning."
"Yes. Can I put my arms around you, Ruth? I promise to not touch you inappropriately."
Ruth turned towards him, and he saw she was smiling. He reached out, and slid his arm across her, and around her waist, his hand resting on the small of her back. He very carefully pulled her closer to him, until her head rested against his shoulder.
"You never know ... I might be up for some inappropriate touching," Ruth said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
"You won't regret it, Ruth."
"I know."
Ruth was on the cusp of sleep when Harry again spoke, his mouth close to her ear, his breath tickling her sensitive skin.
"I was dreaming that Zaf was being taken away on a tug boat down the Thames, while I stood on the dock watching, unable to do anything about it."
"That's ... sad."
"It is, isn't it?" Harry said, waiting a few breaths before he continued. "I think it means …... that I believe Zaf isn't coming home …... and it means that I'm afraid I'll lose you again."
"Maybe."
"I don't want to lose you again, Ruth."
"You won't lose me. I ... I won't let it happen. Not again."
Ruth's last awareness before sleeping, was of the soft pressure of Harry's lips on her cheek. She fell into sleep smiling.
Fin
A/N: Thank you to all readers, and especially to those who have left reviews. Much appreciated.