"Hello," the boy says as he jumps off his bike. "Is this Malcolm's place?"
Harry hesitates momentarily, years of training telling him to deny it, until he remembers that Malcolm's no longer in the service and that he'd explicitly asked him to endeavour to be open and trusting with the people around here. He's on friendly terms with all his neighbours apparently. "Yes," he replies, straightening up and wiping his hands on a rag as he observes the boy closely. He looks to be in his early teens and a happy child, open and trusting.
"Is he home?" he asks next.
"No," he shakes his head. "He's not back yet."
"Oh," he murmurs in disappointment. Then he brightens up and asks, "What are you doing?"
"I'm just changing the oil," he responds, nodding towards the boat's engine.
"Right," he replies. "Want some help?"
"Are you from around here?" he asks, wondering where this boy came from and if someone's looking for him. He was certainly right in his assessment of the lad. He's far too trusting for his own good, in his opinion, and he wonders at that. He's probably grown up in a village or small town, he concludes, and around people who love him.
"No, I'm visiting Ms. Thomas with my step mum," he volunteers.
"Ms. Thomas?" he asks.
"Yes," he replies. "Ms. Jean Thomas. She's an author. She lives just up the road. You can probably see her house from your back garden."
"Ah, yes," he smiles. "I had the pleasure of meeting her earlier today. And does your mother know where you are?" he asks with a frown.
"I'm fourteen, you know," he declares with a hint of annoyance, but seeing that Harry doesn't stop staring at him and waiting for a reply, he adds, "Yeah. She knows I went to the beach. I was just on my way home... only I thought I'd drop in to see Malcolm. He saved my life once, you know."
Harry's heart almost stops at those words, and he swallows hard before he can speak, his voice coming out in a whisper. "What's your name?"
"Nico," he replies. "What's yours?"
"Nico," Harry murmurs and swallows, his throat suddenly dry and his breathing laboured. He turns slowly, and moving over to the low wall on the other side of the drive, he pours himself some water from the jug on the tray there and brings it to his lips, noticing with dismay that his hands are trembling slightly. He takes greedy gulps of the water, draining the glass and pouring himself another. Did Malcolm plan this?
"Are you all right, Sir?" Nico asks and approaches him cautiously.
"Yes," he murmurs after he's drained the second glass and taken a deep steadying breath. With some effort, he pulls himself together before turning to face the boy again and offering, "Would you like some water, Nico?"
"Yes, please," he smiles, and Harry pours him a glass and offers it out to him, pleased that his hands are steady again now. "Thanks," he says and begins to drink.
"Have you been here long, Nico?" Harry asks once he's finished as he takes the glass from the boy's hand.
"No," he smiles. "We arrived at lunchtime. It's Easter break right now, so I don't have school, and Ms. Thomas invited us over here for two weeks. She's always asking us over, but Ruth, that's my step mum, she's always saying no."
"What changed her mind?" Harry asks casually, carefully hiding his investment in the answer.
Nico leans in conspiratorially and whispers, "She doesn't know I know this, but she just broke up with her boyfriend, and I think, that's why she wanted to leave for a bit." He smiles and adds more loudly, "Anyway, I'm not complaining. It's only the second time I've got to visit another country and it's nice here."
"Yes, it is," Harry replies calmly, while inside he's experiencing a roller-coaster of emotions.
"So are you Malcolm's... friend? Partner?" he asks a little hesitantly.
"A friend," he answers, somewhat taken aback by the question. It's not the kind of thing Harry would have thought of, let alone dared to ask an adult when he was fourteen, and it suddenly makes him feel old and out of touch. Then again, when he was a kid, it hadn't been the kind of thing adults advertised about themselves. Nowadays, probably at least half the children in the boy's class have more than two parents and gay couples are common. Shaking his head free of these thoughts, he adds, "I'm Harry."
"Ruth has a very good friend called Harry," he frowns. "She worked with him and Malcolm years ago before she met my dad. He died, you know, my dad... I miss him. He was a doctor, you know. I remember we used to play football together. Then one day some men came after us and they tried to kill us. I was with Dad, but they sent me inside the house and then they shot him. And Malcolm, he came there and stopped them from killing me too. Ruth says that we'd all be dead if her friends, Harry and Malcolm, hadn't stopped them. She says that they tried to protect my dad too, but they couldn't. But she says that they got them all, the people who did it. They're all dead or in prison... I'm glad about that. It's good to know that his death was avenged."
"I'm sorry, Son," Harry says in a husky voice, laced with emotion.
"Are you Ruth's friend Harry?" he asks.
"Yes," he murmurs quietly.
"Thank you for saving Ruth and me," he says earnestly.
"I'm sorry I couldn't save your father too," Harry replies in a choked voice.
He nods and answers, "At least I have Ruth. She's a good mother."
"I have no doubt," he murmurs in agreement. "She's a special person."
They're silent for a little while and Harry struggles to suppress the memories that are threatening to engulf and overwhelm him.
"I want to be a musician when I grow up," Nico volunteers suddenly.
"Really?" Harry smiles, glad of the change in subject.
"Yes," he confirms. "I want to go to a music school, but they don't have any where I live. Thia Maria, my aunt, she says there are some good ones in England, but Ruth says we can't go there again. She says it's too dangerous for her. Do you think it's too dangerous for her, Harry?"
"I think perhaps it is right now, but that it's possible to change that," he murmurs quietly, his mind already working feverishly to find a solution to Ruth's problem with her status in England. Even if she never wants to see him again, he still wants to make it possible for her to come back home to England if she wants to.
They hear a car coming down the road, and moments later, Malcolm appears, parking the Land Rover in the driveway and getting swiftly out. Harry notes that he looks a little worried as he approaches and greets Nico.
"Hello again," he smiles at the boy and glances over at Harry apprehensively.
"Hi, Malcolm," Nico replies. "I was coming back from the beach and I stopped to see if you were home."
"That was nice of you," he murmurs. "Did you swim?"
"Yes, I did," the boy replies, "but it was freezing."
"Well, it's only the beginning of May," he states. "It won't warm up for another month." He pauses for a few moments and then asks, "Have you met my friend, Harry?"
"Nico and I have been getting to know each other," Harry replies. "He tells me that he and Ruth will be staying here for two weeks."
"I expect that she'll be wondering where you've got to, Nico," Malcolm says quietly as he turns to the boy. "Perhaps one of these days we can all go out in my boat and do some fishing."
"That would be great," Nico beams and gets back on this bike. "Bye," he calls as he rides away.
Harry and Malcolm call goodbye to him and watch him cycle up the lane. Once he's out of earshot, Malcolm turns to Harry and says, "I'm sorry, Harry. I had no idea that Ruth was coming to stay with Jean. I didn't even know that they were acquainted."
"It's all right, Malcolm," Harry nods. "I'd quite like to see her."
"I thought you might," Malcolm murmurs, "so I invited them round for dinner this evening."