In this story Harry hasn't been previously married, and he doesn't have children (as I failed to mention before). This chapter might also be heading towards an M rating for the subject matter.

3 months later.

Harry went downstairs and was surprised to see Lucy already up. She was yawning and in her pyjamas, but she was awake. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"Yes please Harry," she said sweetly. "Where's mum?"

"Getting dressed," Harry said. "She'll be here in five minutes. Toast?"

Lucy nodded. Harry busied himself making her breakfast and thinking to himself. Lucy was such a charming, bright and sweet little girl. He'd been sleeping with Ruth for maybe two weeks when he'd stayed overnight and had overslept. Lucy had seen him come downstairs, even though he tried to be quiet. Ruth had been loudly cooking, trying to cover his escape when Lucy had said very loudly "Harry's here!"

Amazed that a six year old could make him blush, he went into the kitchen and stayed silent, wondering what on earth to say. Lucy had no such problems. "Did you stay here last night?"

"Er… yes, I did," he agreed.

"Where?" she asked with a child's unerring accuracy to ask awkward questions. Both adults were silent. "Did you sleep in mummy's room?"

"Um… yes," he said after a very long and uncomfortable silence. Ruth's face was flaming brightly as she buttered the toast, studiously avoiding Harry's eyes.

"Mummy, is Harry your boyfriend?"

"Yes," Ruth said. "Is that okay with you?"

"Oh yes," she said as Ruth had put the toast in front of her. "You're nice Harry."

"Thank you," he'd said. And that was that. It hadn't taken long at all for her to accept Harry. She seemed to take everything in her stride, and Harry was amazed at her acceptance. But then he'd never spent any time around children at all. Being good with children wasn't a requirement for MI5.

He poured Lucy some juice and she yawned widely. "Thank you," she said. Harry made himself some breakfast and then saw Ruth come into the kitchen, her hair wet from a quick shower. Harry felt a stab of disappointment that she'd got in the shower without him. Ruth kissed his cheek chastely and then made some coffee. "Sleep well darling?" she asked.

"Yes," both Harry and Lucy said at the same moment. Then both adults laughed as Ruth caught his eyes happily.

That night Harry and Ruth were curled up on the sofa happily, some mindless TV show on in the background, happy in the knowledge that tomorrow was Sunday so they didn't have to get up early. He turned to her and kissed her gently. "I love you Ruth." She froze, eyes wide. But she didn't say anything. Harry wasn't all that surprised, but as the seconds ticked by the silence became incredibly uncomfortable, even though he'd half been expecting it. "Ruth you have to talk to me. You need to."

"Harry…"

"You lock yourself away," he said quietly. "You refuse to let yourself feel anything for anyone. Except Lucy. Please. Talk to me."

She shook her head, trying to disentangle herself from him. "I can't," she said. "I don't know how to… put it into words."

"You were raped," he said quietly. She glared at him, ice in her eyes.

"You bastard," she said, heat in her voice. "You looked in my file?!"

"No I didn't," he said, his eyes looking deeply into hers. "And I didn't know that was the truth until just now." He sighed heavily. "Ruth, you need to talk to me. Please," he added quietly. He knew that getting angry about how she'd been abused would only make her clam up, so he kept a lid on his fury. There would be time for that later. Ruth didn't look at him and left the living room. Harry followed at a distance and watched as she opened the kitchen cupboard.

"Please Ruth," he said quietly.

"You're right," she said, not facing him. Her voice was low, masking her emotions, but he knew she was upset. Not surprisingly. "I do need to talk to you," she agreed, still keeping her back to him. "But if you think I'm doing it sober you've got another thing coming." She uncorked a bottle of red wine with a pop and poured herself a big glass. She swallowed it almost in one, and then poured another measure. Harry could do with a glass but he wasn't going to ask. Apparently he didn't need to, she poured him a glass and slid it across to him.

"Fine," she said. "Yes. I was raped. And then I ended up pregnant."

"What happened?"

"What happened Harry? Do you need all the gory details?!" she asked, finally turning to face him, looking furious. "Do you need to know how humiliated I was? How much it hurt?"

"No Ruth, I really don't," he said, his eyes blazing at her. "I can all too easily picture it, and I hate it. I wondered simple things like who did this to you? Why did you keep the baby? Where is the scum bag now? Things like that."

She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. "Just after Christmas, I was bored and lonely, tired of studying all the time to keep my straight A record so I ran away with Peter. My step brother. It was only meant to be a bit of fun. We went to Blackpool. We went over the weekend so I wouldn't miss any school," she added with a slight smile. We drank. We were both just eighteen and we spent the whole weekend drinking. On Saturday night, he took it too far. And wouldn't take no for an answer, even when I tried to fight him off. He was stronger than me, I just couldn't… do anything about it." She closed her eyes and took a fortifying gulp of wine. Harry reached for her hand. "Don't touch me," she hissed. "Not now."

"Sorry," he said.

"After it was over, I blacked out," she said. "I was in pain and he wasn't gentle. I'd been a virgin before hand and I couldn't stop shaking. When I came around he wasn't there. So I grabbed my purse and left, not caring that there wasn't any transport or that I'd had no sleep. I went to the train station and waited for the first one back to Exeter in the morning. It was so cold. My mum had been really worried so she didn't actually tell me off at all. She wanted to know where Peter was. I didn't know. He came back about a week later.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," Ruth said simply. "I didn't speak to him again. We lived in the same house for five months."

"And you never said anything? You never told anyone?" he asked in disbelief.

"I locked myself in my room," she said simply. "My mum knew something was wrong but I couldn't talk about it. It's been seven years now and I still find it really difficult. I managed to convince her it was the stress of exams and getting into university. I don't think she believed me but couldn't work out what else it was. And I'd always been a quiet and studious girl."

"How did you live with him for so long?"

"We went to different schools," she said. "We were never at home at the same time except to sleep. He had football practice. And rugby, and cricket. I put three locks on my door, but I don't think he'd have come near me anyway. He was terrified I'd tell someone."

"What happened when you discovered you were pregnant?"

"It took about two months," she said. "A bit more really before I could accept it. My period was late and I ignored it. Straight A students bound for Oxford did not get pregnant in high school. I could not be pregnant. I refused to accept the possibility. It took a while before I could admit to myself that I was. I dug my head in the sand. I can be stubborn when I want to be."

"Why didn't you… an abortion?" he asked.

"It was too late," she said simply. "I'm ashamed to say I would have done it though. Without thinking twice. But by the time I worked up the courage to see a doctor, I was too far gone. They did a scan on me and found out it was a girl." Ruth smiled at that, a strained smile, but genuine. "I didn't want her. I didn't want her in any way, I didn't love her or care for her. Not until she was born and I was holding her did that change, but that scan was the first time I thought of my pregnancy as something other than a horrific problem. She was a person, and it wasn't just my life any more. There were two of us. So I went home and I told my mother everything." Ruth stopped talking as two tears ran down her cheeks. Harry felt slightly guilty for bringing this up, but knew he had to know the truth.

"And?" he prompted quietly.

"And she believed me completely," Ruth said, the tears falling unchecked down her face, her voice close to breaking. "She knew something had happened that weekend, but never did she imagine it was that. She went ballistic."

"At you?!" Harry asked in indignation.

"No, of course not," she said, catching his eye for a moment before looking away. "At them."

"Them?"

"Peter and David, my stepfather," she said. "David told my mother that I was a liar and a slut. He could hardly deny I was pregnant, because out of my loose jumpers it was obvious. He said his son wouldn't do anything like that. My mum said her daughter wasn't a liar. It was longer than that and the screaming and crying went on for hours. Eventually Peter admitted it. My mum threw them both out of the house, and I've never seen them since. She told them that if she or I saw them again, we'd go to the police. That was a lie. I never would have."

"Why not? He deserves to be in prison."

"Because I couldn't relive it," she said. "I couldn't stand in front of a courtroom full of total strangers and describe what he did to me. And what would be the point? Conviction rates are so low for rape, add to that the fact we'd both been drinking, I had a previous relationship with the perpetrator and went on to have his child… He would never have been found guilty, and even if he had, he'd be out of prison by now anyway. There was no point Harry."

"So he's… just out there somewhere?"

"Yes," Ruth said. She poured herself another glass of wine. Harry had forgotten his own drink in his hand, but now swallowed. He needed the alcohol.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know and I don't care," she said without any emotion. "There you go," she added in the silence. That's the truth." She wiped her face dry of the tears. "Say something."

"Please don't push me away," he said, the first thought that had come into his head.

"Please don't treat me like I'm broken, or damaged," she asked. "I couldn't bear that and it's one of the reasons I haven't told you."

"What other reasons are there?"

"I've only ever told one person," she said slowly. "Talking about it makes me think about it again. I try so hard to keep it buried and forget about it but when you insist on knowing…"

"I had a right to know," he said quietly.

"Yes," she said simply.

"You should have told me before. Before we slept together."

"No," she said just as easily. She brushed her hair out of her face. "Just because I've been raped doesn't mean that I don't enjoy sex Harry. It doesn't mean that I don't feel passion and desire. I was never going to tell you before I slept with you."

The silence filled the kitchen, neither knowing what to say. Harry eventually took the first move. "Ruth, can I hold you?" he asked quietly. She doesn't answer straight away. Then, slowly she nods. He approached her slowly, like he would with a wild animal. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her. He put his hands on her waist and gently pulled her to him. She rested her head against his shoulder and after a moment burst into tears. Quiet tears which shook her body as they soaked into the fabric of his shirt. He stroked her back lovingly and gently, letting her cry out her despair.

He doesn't think of Peter. He can't. Because if he does he'll get so angry he'll see red. And that can't happen when Ruth needs him.