Thanks for the reviews as I know that Harry without Ruth in his life is not a popular premise. I think this chapter could best be described as Harry and Jane take stock.

Car Journey 1.30 am

Under normal circumstance being chauffeur driven in a luxurious car with soft leather seats and plentiful leg room would have made Jane feel extraordinarily pampered, but these were not normal circumstances. Instead she felt extremely uneasy, courtesy of her close proximity to Harry. Part of her discomfort was due to the various aches emanating from her injuries, combined with the reflection that her current garb was distinctly undignified for a woman in her late fifties. The hem from Harry's shirt pressed across her thighs reminding her vividly of the draughts associated with her mini skirted youth. The very wearing of the shirt and coat, both permeated with Harry's smell, gave her a sense, in her own mind at least, of being branded. The limping gait, which had forced her to lean heavily upon his arm during their passage through the A & E unit, had simply reinforced her sense of being reduced to the status of a puppet. A high level of self consciousness had made her acutely aware of the curious stares from the remaining patients as she and Harry had trudged towards the exit. Harry, of course, had just treated the glances their bizarre dress had earned them with a disinterest bordering upon disdain. Jane envied him his indifference, for her part she had been relieved to enter the sanctuary of the waiting car. But now that she was being driven at considerable speed to the home of the man she'd avoided for years, and whose profession may well have been the reason for her recent shattering acquaintance with the London pavement, she was beginning to wish she'd said no to Harry's offer.

The greater part of her discomfort though was mental: What had she been thinking of? It was twenty five years since she'd instigated their very unfriendly divorce when she had eventually found herself unable to cope any longer with his lies, secrets and affairs, in fact the entire package of deception and manipulation that had become their marriage. She vividly recalled that final bitter argument: the one that had ultimately forced her into action. 'Jane this assignment is vital, regnum defende at all costs'. She could still hear her own voice screeching back in anger, 'Well fine, defend the bloody realm if you must, but pay the costs yourself because I can't any longer'. And now, after all those years, he had had the gall to stroll into her hospital ward and immediately coerce her into following his wishes. Even more irritating was the knowledge that she'd hardly put up an argument. Why hadn't she denounced his lie to the doctor? She'd identified Harry's raised voice outside the ward the instant he spoke: only his tones possessed that particular combination of authority and precision. She could have taken that microsecond of advantage to have him thrown out when he burst into her room but instead had opted to remain silent. She was still wondering at her folly when, almost as if he'd read her mind, Harry, having checked his phone for missed calls and texts, chose this moment to speak.

"Thanks for not giving me away."

"I can't work out why I didn't for the life of me." In a further attempt at conversation she added "and I'm an English teacher, I'm supposed specialise in analysis of character and motive."

She had thought to lighten the awkwardness of the situation with this last comment but instead of the repost she'd expected a stricken expression flickered across Harry's face. So quickly did it pass over his features she wondered if she'd actually seen it or if it was just an uncertainty created by the dim light that gave the illusion that he'd been momentarily paralysed by her innocent remark. Whether this was a figment of her imagination remained unclear as she continued hastily, hoping that he would assuage her curiosity,

"I'd assumed that Catherine had contacted you, clearly I was wrong."

The answer she sought didn't arrive, instead a growing silence thickened into a tangible barrier between them. Gazing at Harry through the gloom Jane felt a strange sense of displacement– the Harry she had know in his early thirties was still traceable but had morphed into the features of the man who sat beside her.. who was he now, this familiar stranger?... For a few moments in the hospital she could almost have believed he cared... but how many times in the past had she fallen for that one, 'It was necessary for the operation but of course you come first' ..'Jane I'm really sorry I didn't make it – I hope you got the chocolates I sent' ..'Honestly Jane Juliet is just my boss...' Time and again she'd forgiven him only to be let down... yet he looked so careworn, the arrogance that had so often made her want to hit him was still in evidence but some how the brashness that had been its twin seemed to have faded...toll of time perhaps... but...did leopards and aging spies really change their spots?

Harry had finally forced himself into a reply: "It's true that I was contacted as a work matter - but only because I had her address on an MI5 watch list."

"So you think our daughter is a traitor! You bastard!"

"For God's sake of course not –but .. I want to make sure she's safe..."

"You'll be telling me next my address and Graham's are on your precious list."

"Not Graham's, I don't have any contact - barring his last message via Catherine, the gist of which was that I could go and make love to myself– I don't know his address."

Jane noted the omission which instantly ignited her suppressed resentment as she flared: "Oh God – how dare you have us watched! As if you hadn't done enough to damage our lives..."

The strain of the evening was beginning to tell on Harry so it was with some exasperation that he snapped back, "Which is precisely why I have you on a watch list - and no it's not spying on your every movement, it's simply a note that if anything unusual happens I'm contacted. After the mistakes I've made the least I can do is to try and provide some minimal protection for my family."

Jane was about expostulate again along that lines that Harry's concern was a little late in the day and that she'd ceased to be a member of his family years ago, but she was pulled up short by the recognition that however remiss Harry might have been in the realms of emotional support he had never stinted either herself or the children in material comforts and he had, at considerable personal risk, extracted their daughter from more than one dangerous enterprise. Instead she said with a reluctant sigh, "I suppose the real reason I agreed to come was because I knew that you were right – I couldn't check into a hotel in this state ...and I need to know why our daughter's flat was bombed."

Harry give a wry smile before he replied, "This must be about the first time in thirty years we've had a thought in common."

"And your ulterior motive for taking me home tonight?"

"Isn't simple concern enough?"

"Harry – you've always had a hidden agenda – you simply can't help yourself. It's as if you have a disease called spy fever."

"Please believe that I would have made the offer had it been a gas explosion but ...yes you are probably going to be part of an official MI5 investigation."

As he finished speaking Harry reminded himself that whatever her other deficiencies Jane was no fool and he'd have to work hard to gain any trust from her. After all, he reflected, he'd done little in their marriage to earn it, beginning on their wedding day when, after he'd lied about his profession, he broke the news on their honeymoon; 'Er Jane I need to talk to you about my job, you know I said I'd left the army and was working as a civil servant...'. Casting a wary eye over her he had to admit that in physical appearance she'd worn a great deal better than he had over the years. Beautiful when they'd married she was still slim, her face relatively unlined and her skin remained pale from type rather than ill health. The shadow of the girl he'd taken to the altar was still visible: God they'd both been so young, so naive...and he'd neglected her time after time ...cheated on her shamelessly. Perhaps he hadn't deserved that second chance, maybe Ruth's dying words had been true after all. Fortunately before he could relive yet again the never ending agony of that sunny day by the Thames estuary he was drawn back into the equally painful present as the car drew to a halt outside his house.

Once more Harry called upon his reserves of stoicism as he exited from the vehicle, walked round to the kerbside door and unstrapped the woman who had to be focus of his current attention. Helping Jane to balance on the pavement he concentrated on the mundane, "Come on Jane your bath and bed await."

Next up Harry and Jane under the same roof!