For the first time in as long as he can remember, Harry is driving within the speed limit. The possibilities for the rest of the day and dare he think night are endless and he doesn't want to appear too eager. Because as much as he would have loved to have been the one to suggest that they went a day early he hadn't, so to ask Ruth why she's seemingly changed her mind, isn't a question he wants to ask when he's driving. Or to comment on her choice of hotel, which is close to Ely and about five miles as the crow flies from where Ros's mother lives. Because not only is set back from the towpath alongside the Great Ouse, but from what he'd gathered when he'd had a brief look online, it's exactly what he would have chosen.

What he doesn't want to think about, but can't stop himself, is whether when they're actually in bed if he'll disappoint her. After all he thinks, trying not to grind his teeth when he's doing so, is that the last man she'd slept with had been at least fifteen years younger than he is and from the brief glimpse he'd had of him on that dreadful day, considerably more athletic. Whereas he will have to rely on what he's quite sure a naked Ruth will do to his body as well as his mind.

He needn't have worried and Ruth certainly hadn't, or would she let him apologise when her implication that they ought to stop prevaricating and do something about it, had caused it to be frantic and over far more quickly than either of them would have liked. And why would they, now when they're wrapped together and breathing heavily, having missed lunch by half an hour, because in the end neither of them had been able to wait.

For Ruth to then to tell him that she hadn't been able to sleep after he'd gone home the previous evening and that she'd been imagining this moment for years, had it not been their first time and him wanting to play it down with a view to improving his performance, he might well have suggested that they stay where they were for the rest of their lives, being drip fed whatever was required to ensure endless encores.

Whereas with the promise of an evening and a whole night to look forward to, he suggested that they ought to find somewhere to at least have a snack.

Neither of them having been to Cambridgeshire before, it didn't take them long to discover when they were walking along the towpath, that even at this time of year when a warm jacket was advisable, that the atmosphere was as far removed from what they were used to in London as it could be. And despite it being early autumn, there were just as many if not more tourists both on the river as there were walking beside it. That and the air which in central London was polluted by the sheer volume of traffic, despite the rules which had been put in place to make it less so, here it was breathable in a way that cleared your head. As was the atmosphere outside the café where those who were hardy enough to be sitting in the open air, were outnumbering those who they intended to join inside.

'I can't believe we just did that,' said a smiling Ruth, lifting his spirits even further, when they'd ordered a plate of sandwiches and some warm drinks, after waiting for a table to be vacated. The novelty of not having to look at their watches or wait for the phone to ring, demanding that they be elsewhere not lost on either of them.

Nor could Harry, but curiosity was also getting the better of him, so, 'are you going to tell me what made you changed your mind?' he asked her.

'Because I don't want you to become someone I used to know, which was how it felt when I was in Cyprus. That and you deserve to know the truth.'

In what sense? sounded altogether too pushy. But the mention of Cyprus when not so long ago he'd been wondering if he'd come up to the mark, meant what?

'When I said I couldn't marry you because of all the things that we've seen, the things that we've done together, I wasn't talking about George, if that's what you were thinking? He was the distraction I needed, at least that's what I thought when I first met him. But it quickly became a fiction and the longer that it went on the harder it became for me to walk away. So, in answer to your question, no I didn't love him. And even if I had, it wouldn't have come close to the way I love you. And I might not want us to get married Harry, but I don't want us to take a backwards step either.'

'But we are married Ruth, we're the Richardson's,' was all he could come up with having heard her say that she loved him. The alternative in a café full of people, would have seen heads turning.

As was her response of, 'only until tomorrow morning.'

To which he responded, 'I'll contest that you know that don't you.'

For her to then say that 'she did and she loved his determination,' sounded better than telling him that it was the fear of someone or something tearing them apart again which was the reason she wanted to keep things as they were, at least when they were at work. That what happened away from the grid and how many nights they spent in each other's houses, had to come with a plan that meant nobody other than their close colleagues knew.

But it was only later when they were getting ready to go down to dinner that she told him that she'd turned to Malcolm for solace when she'd first come home. How he'd told her not to give up on them and how lost he'd been during the time that she'd been away. A statement which helped to fill the time when there had been a great deal of bare flesh on show, combined with two thundering heartrates. Which ensured that on the way down to dinner, Harry stopped off at reception and booked their room for a second night.

.

Now the following morning and not wanting to arrive early at Ros's mothers, they were finding it hard to call her Caroline or to imagine what she might look like, never mind why she wanted to see them, they were taking their time getting there. Something which after what had for both of them been a night when all the tension and the hiding from the possibilities that had spanned the best part of four years, had in all senses of the word been put to bed.

Because Malcolm might have seen her dress but he hadn't been the one who had said, 'allow me' when she'd been struggling to undo the zip, which had led to what even with all Harrys experience, had felt and still does, the most arousing moment of his life. The trigger which had lit the blue touch paper for both of them was that he'd done it slowly, exploring every inch of her back while Ruth had been inwardly pleading with him to take her there and then. Which meant that married or not, they'd finally made an unbreakable commitment to stay together, with for better or for worse as a given.

Thoughts which they had to park when, 'my daughter was very selective when it came to the people she trusted,' Caroline told them, ushering them through to what she called the garden room. Large enough to hold a substantial number of people before she disappeared into the kitchen. Leaving them to ponder not only that Ros had at some time told her mother that they were to be trusted, but what size of house she'd lived in before her husband or in Ros's case father, had caused her to move from where they'd been living at the time of his incarceration at her majesty's pleasure. It didn't take them long to find out, or that like Ros, Caroline wasn't someone who was afraid to speak her mind.

'Jocelyn has always been a philandering bastard and he can go rot for all I care. But the reason I will never forgive him, is that he succeeded in grooming my daughter into believing him to be perfect. Only for her to find out that he wasn't and before she and I were able to set up a long overdue bond, to have lost her is the reason I'm struggling.'

'I'm sure,' said Harry, who could see by her expression that there was more to come.

'I knew what she Rosalind did for a living and that there was the chance that something might happen to her. But for it to have happened in the manner it did, wasn't the only reason I didn't come to her funeral. I felt angry with the whole world but especially with the person or persons responsible. And I know that you can't go into detail, but my daughter had the foresight to tell me, that if I wanted a straight answer to a question, that you were the person I should speak to you. She also left this letter for both of you, which again she told me to hang onto unless something happened to her, in which case I was to hand it over.'

'Thank you,' said Ruth taking the letter, with one eye on Harry who she could see was mentally preparing what he hoped would put Caroline's mind to rest.