9. Chapter 9 (1/2)

harry introduces he and ruth to the contractors as michael and ruth james.

"why those names?" she'd asked him the afternoon before, while they lay in bed after having made love.

"common names are best. something which doesn't stand out. we're having to live with these names for the rest of our lives."

"how come i get to keep my name?"

"because i love your name. i love how it sounds in my mouth, and on my tongue."

he'd placed emphasis on the word, `tongue', and so ruth had kissed him – deeply – and then much more enjoyable activities had replaced the conversation.

they'd followed sandor and jack around the interior of the house; sandor had commented on what he saw needed doing, and jack had taken photos, and written notes. there is a lot needs doing. it is in relation to upstairs that the most discussion takes place.

"you need to block off the southern end, and have a bathroom and a single bedroom built in the space," sandor had said, his eyes taking in the whole area under the roof.

"we don't need an extra bedroom," ruth explains.

"no kids, then?"

"no," ruth replies, suddenly feeling guilty that she hasn't added to the world's over-population problem.

"pity," sandor replies, not even looking at her. "kids can be a joy," he says, with an expression which suggests the very opposite is true. "the missus and i have four."

they spend an hour and a half going over every single repair and refurbishing in detail. by half past midday, they have a plan. jack and his small crew will do the clean up, and change the locks, and replace any

oken windows. while that is being done, sandor will work on a quote, and some plans for the upstairs. they exchange phone numbers, and harry gives sandor his newest email address, the one he'd created for michael james.

"if we can get hold of the right paint, and all the other bits and bobs, the whole job should be finished within 10 weeks …... hopefully less."

"that soon?" ruth asks, as she wonders when it was `bits and bobs' had become building terms.

"it's the financial crisis," sandor continues. "there's been little work for me and my men these last six months or so. we're all keen to get stuck into this place. with the right touch, it should come up a treat."

ruth certainly hopes so. she can't help wondering whether harry's faith in this man's abilities is founded in optimism.

harry's first week back at work is chaotic, with him spending most of his time in meetings, most of which he has to be off grid to attend. the threat to his life is never mentioned - by the home secretary, members of the jic, or the other section heads. it is as though the bullet made it's way into his arm all on its own - a misdirected missile, meant for someone else. by the following sunday, he is looking forward to spending his day off with ruth.

"i'll come around to yours," she says, when he rings her sunday morning. "beth is home, so it would be awkward were you to come over here."

"you know what i'm about to say," harry says over a lunch of chicken and salads, "about your living arrangements."

"as much as i would love to move in with you, harry, i don't think it wise …. not now, and not after how i was kidnapped."

"i know, and you're right. it's just that i miss you."

they clean up after lunch, standing together at the sink, he washing and she wiping.

"i could throw this lot into the dishwasher," he explains, enjoying the touch of her shoulder against his, "but then, we wouldn't be able to do this," and he bends down to kiss her.

he turns to face her, so that he can slide his arms around her, pulling her close to him, as the kiss continues.

"upstairs?" he says huskily.

"mmm," she replies, nodding, running her tongue around her lips.

but then the doorbell rings, not once or twice, but three times in quick succession.

"ignore it," harry says, grasping ruth's hand.

"it might be important. i think you should at least see who it is."

harry sighs heavily, knowing ruth is right. ruth listens as harry answers the door, but she cannot detect any voice other than his own. it is only when two sets of footsteps walk back down the hallway that ruth hears a female voice, and she is sure she hears this voice utter the word, `dad'.

"ruth?" harry says, as he steps into the kitchen, "i'd like you to meet my daughter. catherine ….. this is ruth."

ruth has turned from the sink, and she moves to greet harry's daughter. a quick look at harry's face tells her that he is unprepared, and perhaps even a little embarrassed.

"hello, catherine," ruth says, holding out her hand for catherine to shake. "i was the one who left you a phone message when harry was in hospital."

"it was only yesterday that i got the message. i've been in palestine these past few weeks. i'm glad to meet you at last, ruth." catherine turns to look right into harry's eyes. "and when were you planning to tell me about this?"

"about what?"

"about you having a girlfriend …..." catherine turns towards ruth, her eyes large. "you are dad's girlfriend, aren't you? i haven't just jumped to the wrong conclusion …... have i?"

harry steps forward, placing a calming hand on his daughter's forearm. "yes, ruth is my girlfriend. she and i are …... together, but we're not yet living together."