This is the last chapter of this fic. I feel the need for H & R to be allowed to get on with their lives without us `watching them'.
Thanks to all who have read this and enjoyed it, and especially to you kind folk who have taken the trouble to review. I have enjoyed writing this fic perhaps more than any other to date. I have thoroughly enjoyed writing Towers, a character for whom I find writing dialogue to be an enjoyable indulgence.
oOo
The cottage in Suffolk; 16 weeks after the bombing, and 14½ weeks after the kidnapping: 11.13am
Harry quietly and stealthily gathered the empty bottles and glasses, plates and cups, and stacked the dishwasher. The smattering of confetti on the carpet would have to wait until he fired up the vacuum cleaner. Knight of the realm or not, he was not beyond doing a little light housework. The lumpy figure under the blanket on the sofa rolled over, and he was faced with the bleary eyes of MalcolmWynn-Jones.
"Harry, you should have woken me. I promised I'd help you clean up," Malcolm said as he very slowly sat up and planted his feet on the floor.
"I'll let you press the Start button on the dishwasher, then."
Malcolm smiled at Harry's attempt at humour. There had been a remarkable change in his friend over the past few months, most of it down to a certain brunette. The light which struggled through the window suddenly caught the gold ring on the third finger of Harry's left hand.
"Being married suits you, Harry."
Harry looked up at Malcolm and smiled. "It's Ruth who suits me," he replied. "Marriage is simply a bonus. And as it's been less than 24 hours, perhaps we should withhold our judgements for a while."
"If ever a couple needed to be married, it's you and Ruth."
"Thank you, Malcolm."
"Dad, you were meant to have woken me," complained a ruffled and hungover Catherine from the doorway.
"Princess," Harry said, her little-girl name rolling easily from his lips, "you needed your sleep more if you're to drive back to London today. Malcolm has offered to help here."
"Oh, hi Malcolm," Catherine added, turning to see the other man sitting on the edge of the couch.
"Good morning, Catherine," replied Malcolm. "It seems you and I have been playing gooseberry to your father and Ruth."
"Since Ruth and I were the ones who invited you all back here last night, you can hardly hold yourselves responsible for this marriage having not yet being consummated."
"Dad! That's way too much information."
Harry and Malcolm both chuckled at Catherine's discomfort. "Middle-aged people have sex too, you know," added Harry, "and I'll have you know, dear daughter of mine, that I'm enjoying sex far more now than I did when I was your age."
"Now that is too much information."
"Would you like something to eat?" Harry asked, directing the question at either or both Malcolm and Catherine. Both groaned at the thought of food.
"I'll make us coffee," said Malcolm, standing and assessing his ability to cover the twelve or so steps from the couch to the kitchen.
"Coffee I can handle," said Catherine.
The three of them sat around the table, coffee in front of them, a plate of biscuits untouched between them.
"Where's Ruth?" asked Catherine after a long silence.
"Still asleep, I hope," replied Harry.
Catherine looked at her father over the rim of her coffee cup, wanting to speak her mind, but also not wanting to embarrass him in front of Malcolm. "She's easily the best thing that's ever happened to you, Dad," she said.
"Thank you, Catherine. I know that already, but don't think that -"
"This minimises the importance of Graham and me? I know how hard you tried to balance a young family and your work. I can't hold that against you."
"I know," Harry added. "I think of Ruth as the best thing that has come into my life along with you and your brother."
"Thank you, Dad. That means a lot."
"What means a lot?" said a weary voice from the doorway to the kitchen.
Ruth's entrance was greeted with hello's and good morning's from the three who sat at the table. She was showered and dressed, but she still looked as though she could benefit from at least another four hours sleep. She said good morning to Malcolm with a hand on his shoulder, then Harry, with a quick kiss, and lastly Catherine with a peck on her cheek. She sat next to Catherine at the table, while the two men sat opposite.
"I was just telling Dad how good you are for him," said Catherine.
"As is he for me," Ruth replied.
"I can vouch for both those statements being true," Malcolm observed.
"So," continued Catherine, "what's it like being married to my Dad?"
"Ask me that in around ten years, Catherine," Ruth replied. "So far we've been in the honeymoon phase, and that's been a joy. I find your father to be kind, sensitive and attentive. And I couldn't wish for more." She looked across at Harry, and for that moment in time, neither Catherine nor Malcolm existed for them.
.
After their small wedding ceremony at the village church in late afternoon, rather than taking their wedding guests to eat out, they'd invited them back to the cottage. Most, such as Ruth's mother and step-father, and Catherine's boyfriend, had left after eating and before the real celebrating had begun. Dimitri, Erin, Calum, Tariq and Alec had wisely booked rooms at the hotel. Bob and Merrilyn, Ruth and Harry's next door neighbours, discreetly slipped back to their own cottage at around 2am. Only Malcolm and Catherine had found themselves the worse for the long night of celebration, and with nowhere to spend the night other than with Harry and Ruth at the cottage.
Harry had set the fire in the living room, and with the connecting doors open, the whole downstairs was soon warm and toasty. Catherine left for London as soon as she was dressed, so then Ruth put plates of leftover food from the previous evening on the table. "You two help yourselves," she added. "I haven't the stomach for food yet."
"A little too much wedding cheer, darling?" Harry suggested.
"I think that I enjoyed myself a little too much," she replied. "It was so good to see everyone again. The social side is what I miss most by being at the Home Office." Ruth looked at Harry and grasped his hand in her own. "And you, of course. I miss gazing at you through your office window."
"Other than that, you're enjoying your new job, Ruth?" asked Malcolm.
"Yes, it's more like a proper job. Not as much fun – or as dangerous – but the money's better."
"And how do you find Towers?" Malcolm added, fully aware of Harry's thoughts on the subject.
Ruth stole a quick glance at Harry before replying. "He's a very good boss. Very professional. But he's a politician through and through." She hesitated before adding, "And he's not Harry."
"No-one can replace Harry," Malcolm said.
"Now you're talking about me like I'm dead."
"No, darling," Ruth said, "Malcolm and I were complimenting you."
.
They ate slowly, and with little conversation. With the three of them together like this, private thoughts always drifted to the past, and those who could not be there. Whenever he saw Ruth, Malcolm was always reminded of how she'd lost both George and Nico, and that part these events had played in his retirement.
"Oh, look. It's the first snow of the season," Ruth said, pointing to the window.
"That's why Scarlett and Fidget have taken over the hearth," Harry observed.
"There is something I've been meaning to suggest to you, Harry," began Malcolm. "As you no doubt know, I'm continually developing new security software. I've never thought to do much with it, because I have little need for the money, but I've been thinking. When you're ready to leave MI5, you and I could market this software to the private sector. There's so much that you and I could package and market to the private sector, and not just software. It would be a serious oversight were we not to at least attempt to create a small business from it. It wouldn't require much of our time – I'm thinking perhaps two to three days a week. I don't expect an answer today, mind you. I'm just throwing the idea out there. Now Ruth is working for the Home Secretary, you're freer to retire early. If that's what takes your fancy."
"What a good idea, Malcolm," Ruth said, smiling at him. "The work would have to be safer, too. I don't want to lose my husband to some trigger-happy gunman who believes his cause is worth the price of a few lives lost."
"It's good of you to think of me, Malcolm," Harry said at last. "I've committed myself to MI5 until the Olympics are over, but after that, who knows? I'll give it some thought, and Ruth and I will have to talk it over, too."
"As I said," Malcolm added, "there's no rush. I just think that the security services both private and public need to be using the best technology available. I'm updating my own software regularly, and I'd like to see it in use."
'
Malcolm left after lunch, leaving the newly-weds alone for the first time since they'd taken their vows the previous day. They curled up on the sofa together, Harry at the back and Ruth curved along his front, both facing the fire.
"Hopefully now can you see why I insisted we buy the larger sized couch." Harry reminded Ruth.
"I thought your idea to get a larger couch had more to do with the use to which you were planning to put it."
"Now, you see, you have completely the wrong idea about me, Ruth. You seem to think I'm some kind of sex-obsessed, genitally-focussed libertine, out to seduce you in every room of this house."
"I certainly hope so!"
Harry laughed into her hair and squeezed her with his arms. Ruth turned herself around so that her body faced his, and nestled her head against his arm.
"I think this sofa may be a very good place for sleeping," Ruth said quietly. "It's big enough for two, the room is warm, the company is …. exemplary …..."
"And I'm here also," added Harry, smiling down at her.
Ruth reached up to kiss him, just a quick glance of lips on lips. "You do realise that we had our honeymoon before the wedding?"
Harry nodded. "Lucky, aren't we?"
"Exceptionally," she replied, snuggling into him, hoping to catch another hour or two of sleep.