She's ready to go in less than an hour and when she steps out of her room, the smell of food wafts past her nose. She inhales deeply; suddenly realizing how hungry she is and is surprised that she has an appetite at all. She follows her nose to the kitchen and finds him wearing her apron again which makes her smile as she shakes her head.
"Ah, good, you're ready," he says cheerfully when he sees her a second later. "Are you hungry?"
"Scarily enough, Ah am," she replies as she takes a seat at the table.
"And why would hunger pangs be frightening?" he asks while he places a plate with a shepherd's pie on it. "I did notice that you haven't eaten all day, so it does stand to reason that your body would finally demand food."
"It's not the hunger that's bothersome," she tells him as she picks up her fork. "It's the fact that Ah have any appetite at all after what we just did. Ah haven't eaten anythin' all day because every time Ah thought about what we were about to do made my stomach turn."
"Then perhaps, now that the dirty work is done, your appetite has returned," he points out. "It's good that you do have the ability to eat now. While what you must do next will not be as physically taxing as your earlier exploit, you must have your wits about you and an empty stomach is not conducive to clear thinking."
"Ya really think this is gonna work?" she asks as she gets a fork full of food and starts to blow on it.
"I do," he answers as he leans against the stove.
"But what if…," she starts worriedly.
"Inspector Finch is an honorable man," he interrupts.
"But he's the head of the Nose," she points out.
"Yes, I know, it seems strange, but the Inspector is an honest cop," he replies.
"An honest cop," she echoes with a humorless laugh. "Who would think London had any of those left."
"Yes, it does seem to be a bit of an oxymoron doesn't it?" he says as he places more food on a second plate.
"Oxymoron, a word that contradicts itself, like jumbo shrimp," she pipes up.
"Very good," he responds, sounding very pleased that the tutoring he's been giving her these past few months have sunken in.
"Good to know somethin' managed to get through my thick head," she sighs.
"You are not a stupid woman," he states, raising a finger to stop her when he sees her mouth open to argue with him. "You have made some foolish choices, I will concede you that, but you are not stupid."
"But…," she starts.
"No more," he tells her sternly and her shoulders slump in defeat. "Now, how are things going with your cataloging?"
"Fine," she answers. "Ah'm almost done. Ah figure another week at most, unless ya bring in another truckload for meh and then it'll probably be at least two weeks."
"I have no current plans for liberating any more artwork, so that will not be a concern," he assures her.
"What will Ah do when that's done?" she asks.
"By then you will be preparing to make your way back to North America," he answers as he picks up his plate and starts to leave the kitchen.
"How am I gonna get there?" she inquires.
"I will tell you when the time is right," he replies, pausing in the doorway. "Just concentrate on what needs to be done tonight and then you can worry about the future. After all, your peace of mind hinges on tonight."
"But what if thangs don't go as planned?" she questions.
"Then you will be returning to North America with Inspector Finch still holding your ownership papers," he tells her. "I suggest that you finish your dinner, you will need your strength and wits about you."
"Do ya think they got it?" she softly asks as he turns to leave. "The twins Ah mean."
"It would have arrived in today's post," he tells her, barely looking back over his shoulder at her.
"Do ya think they'll like it?" she questions.
"It came from you, even though they'll probably never know the full extent of your gift, I'm sure they will enjoy it," he assures her and then leaves, knowing all to well what's to come next.
As the sound of his footsteps fades away, she takes a deep shuddering breath and she feels the first of many tears slide down her cheek. By the time the tears run out, her food is quite cold and with sniff and a sigh, she begins to eat.
"Evenin', love," Tim greets as he steps into the kitchen. "What's for dinner?"
"Leftovers," she sighs while she pulls out containers of food from the icebox.
"Somethin' the matter?" he asks as he takes the food from her hands and pulls her into his arms.
"Just Attila the Hun was on one of her rampages again," she grumbles while she lays her head on his chest. "I swear that woman delights in torturing me."
"You can always switch jobs," he points out as he rubs her back. "We've got a little bit of a cushion for you to do that."
"I've already started looking," she tells him. "I'll have to use some of my sick time to do the interviews or do them on my lunch breaks. I just hope that I don't end up with someone worse than Broomhilda."
He chuckles and just holds her, content for this quite moment, something that happens so rarely these days. As if on cue, the twins suddenly burst into the room and he reluctantly lets her go with a sigh.
"When's dinner?" Charles asks.
"I'm starved," Philip adds.
"Dinner will be in a bit," Ruth tells them. "Go set the table please."
The boys quickly gather up the things they'll need and leave the room just as speedily as they came in. She goes back to getting dinner ready by sticking the first container of food into the microwave.
"Anythin' interestin' in the post today?" he questions while she continues to get dinner ready.
"Don't know," she replies as she sticks her head back in the icebox. "I haven't had a chance to go through it yet. It's on the counter if you want to see what came in."
He easily finds the pile, picks it up and then starts to sort through it.
"Bill, bill, junk, bill," he mutters. "What's this?"
"What's what?" she asks, turning to see what he's talking about.
"This," he replies as he holds up a square cardboard envelope. "It's addressed to the boys. There's no return address."
"Then let them open it," she tells him, she can feel her stomach starts doing strange little flip flops. "Boys! You've got mail."
"What is it?" Philip asks as soon as they step into the room and then takes the item handed to him.
"Who's it from?" Charles inquires, looking over his brother's shoulder.
"Doesn't say," Philip tells him.
"Well, open it up then," Charles encourages with a bit of a nudge.
"Ok, ok, keep your shirt on," Philip tells him grumpily as he opens the small package.
A moment later, a small disk and a folded piece of paper slide out onto Philip's hand. The boy unfolds the piece of paper only to have his brother snatch it out of his hand.
"Hey!" Philip yells in protest.
"It's from Mum," Charles announces, pushing his brother away to keep him from grabbing it back.
"I had it first!" Philip shouts as he tries to grab the note back and Tim reaches over, snagging the message before a full blown fight can break out.
"'My dearest boys, I hope you like this. Play it and think of me. Love, Mum,'" Tim reads aloud.
"Can we play it now?" Charles asks excitedly.
"Sure," Ruth tells him.
The boys tear out of the room with the adults following at a more sedate pace. By the time Ruth and Tim have reached the living room, they boys are having a fight over who gets to put the disk in. Before either of the grown ups can say anything, the kids get it sorted out and a moment later a woman's clear strong voice comes through the speakers of the CD player.
If I should stay
I would only be in your way
So I'll go, But I know
I'll think of you every step of the way
And I will always love you
I will always love you
You, my darlings you, Mmmmmmm
Bittersweet memories
That is all I'm taking with me
So goodbye, Please don't cry
We all know, I'm not what you, you need
And I will always love you
I will always love you.
I hope life treats you kind
And I hope you have all you dreamed of
And I wish you joy and happiness
But above all this I wish you love.
And I will always love you
I will always love you
I will always love you
I will always love you
I will always love you
I…I will always love you…you
Darlings, I love you
I'll always… I'll always love you
As the last notes fade away, the boys look at each other in confusion and then look back at their aunt and uncle. Ruth's face is white as a sheet and with a choked sob; she dashes out of the room and down the hall. Tim swiftly follows her and finds her in their bedroom taking in big gasps of air to try and stop the tears, but it doesn't help.
He shuts the door behind him and then quickly pulls her into his arms where she buries her face into his chest. He holds her shaking form to him, ignoring the fact that his shirt is rapidly getting wet. He strokes her hair while he gently rocks her from side to side; knowing that any hope of their lives going back to the way it was has been shot to hell.
"She's not coming back," she whispers several minutes later.
"I know," he softly replies. "Do you think that was her singin'?"
"It could have been," she says with a sigh. "I hope she'll be happy wherever she ends up going."
"I don't know how we're goin' to survive," he quietly admits. "The jewelry's only goin' to get us so far."
"I know," she quietly admits.
"Aunt Ruth? Uncle Tim?" Charles voice calls through the door. "Phil and I finished heating up the food that was on the counter. Can we eat now?"
"Yeah, we'll be out in just a minute," she tells the boy as she reluctantly leaves her husband's arms to search for the box of tissues.
"Ruth, the money," Tim nearly growls.
"We'll deal with it when it's time," she tells him while she wipes her face dry. "Let's not go borrowing trouble."
With that, she blows her nose, tosses out the tissue and leaves the room with Tim right behind her. Both of them know that they're headed for a train wreck and neither one of them knows how to stop it.
"Audrey?" he softly calls from the doorway of the storage room.
"It's time?" she asks, not bothering to turn and look at the dark figure behind her.
"Yes," he answers.
She nods that she understands and with a sad sigh, gets up out of the desk chair she had been sitting in.
"The boys got my gift," she tells him as she walks past him. "Ruth and Tim weren't too happy about it."
"No, I imagine they weren't," he replies, following behind her. "Unfortunately, there is no other way."
"The boys want to know if Ah'm ever gonna come back," she continues while they make their way to the door.
"Have you replied to them?" he asks as they reach the door.
"No," she answers, watching him as he swings his cloak into place with a flare.
"Good, it's best that you don't," he tells her while he fastens the clasp on the cloak.
"Ah know, but that doesn't make it any easier," she sighs.
"I'm sorry, Audrey, but this is the way it has to be," he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Ya keep sayin' that, but it don't make it any easier," she grumbles.
"Doesn't," he automatically corrects. "It doesn't make it any easier. Now come, the Inspector awaits."
With that, he's out the door with a flourish and she sedately follows him, trying to concentrate on the task at hand instead of her breaking heart.
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to I will always love you, though the slight modifications to the song are made by me.