14. Chapter 14 (1/2)

it is lunchtime the next day when ruth slowly eases her car into the driveway of the cottage at bude. she had been too tired to drive all the way to bude in one afternoon, so had spent the night in a hotel in north

istol, ringing harry just before dinner time, and feeling bad when she heard the disappointment in his voice.

"i'll be there tomorrow," she'd said. "that's definite."

"when?"

"probably just before lunch - late morning, maybe. i'm tired, harry. i need to rest."

"sorry, ruth. it's just that i'm so looking forward to -"

"i know. i know."

once the call ended, ruth had felt bad, but it couldn't be helped. better she rest than risk causing a pileup on the m5. besides, she'd wanted to take her time driving through exeter. she'd planned to drive past her family home, the one where she and her mother and father had lived, before her father had died. she needed to allow time for that.

harry's new car – a silver peugot – sits under the carport. that tells ruth that harry is home. she could announce herself, by sounding her car's horn. she could slam the door and call out, or she could just walk quietly around the back of the house, and surprise him.

she chooses to surprise him.

she hears him before she sees him. even before she reaches the back of the house, she recognises the clunk of a hammer on wood. she waits just by the corner of the house, while she watches the muscles in harry's back and shoulders strain with holding the length of wood steady, while he hammers a nail through the crossbeam, and into the upright. an electric drill lies on a chair beside him. harry is building a pergola over the terrace.

ruth smiles. suddenly, the last almost twelve weeks away from him are erased. they no longer exist, other than as a rather painful memory.

harry takes another nail from his pocket, carefully places it, and continues hammering. ruth remains statue still, watching how his body moves as he performs this unfamiliar task – to her eyes, at least. she can see by the way he directs the hammer cleanly on to the nail, that he is familiar with diy. suddenly, he stops hammering, and stands very still, as though listening for a sound from behind him. ruth is absolutely silent, so she knows that harry can feel her presence. that is how things have always been between them. there is an electric current which joins them, so that when one of them is close by, the other can sense their presence.

ruth is about to call out to him, when he turns. they stand where they are – she beside the corner of the house, with harry ten yards away, on the far edge of the terrace, a hammer still in his right hand. the longest of moments passes as they each watch the other.

afterwards, neither would be able to say who had moved first. harry speaks first …... just ruth's name, and nothing else. then they each slowly move towards the other, and at the last moment, ruth runs to him, and into his arms. the hammer clatters on the slate surface of the terrace, as he realises that were he to hug her properly, he'd need both arms. kissing, speaking, silent touching will have to wait. they hold on to one another for the longest time.

"come inside," he says, pulling away just a little, to give ruth some

eathing space. "i'd like to show you around."

he grasps her hand, and pulls her through the back door, now a series of sliding glass doors. "to let the light in," harry explains. his excitement is infectious, and she smiles up at him each time they enter a new room. all rooms have been painted, but so far, the only room which seems finished and furnished is the kitchen.

"i haven't had time to furnish it yet," he explains, "other than our bedroom, because that's the most important room in the house."

"here it is," he says. they have climbed the stairs, and are standing just inside the door to their bedroom. "what do you think?"

ruth gazes around the space. behind her is clearly the bathroom, and off to the side is a small bedroom. in front of her, directly under the roof ridge, their bed takes pride of place. harry has already bought their bedding – white sheets and pillowcases, and the bed is covered by a large, plush, patchwork eiderdown. ruth steps closer, and touches the eiderdown, and then she sits on the edge of the bed, and eventually lies along one side – the side closest the window which overlooks the sea – and rests her head on the pillow.

"do you like it?" harry asks, sitting on the opposite edge of the bed.

ruth nods, and pats the bed beside her. "lie down next to me," she says, smiling into his eyes.

harry lies down, and the turns towards her, and for the first time in almost 12 weeks, they kiss. the kiss is one of longing, but the passion is held in check, while they run their hands over the arms and shoulders of the other. once they pull apart, harry's hands remain on her hips, while ruth frames his face between her hands.

"i have missed this so much," he whispers.

"do you mind terribly if we don't …... have sex …... today? i've been feeling …... a bit off."

harry leans away from her, to get a clearer view of her face. he had been looking forward to their reunion, and yes, he had been looking forward to the sex. he had been counting the hours.

"is something wrong, ruth? tell me."

"you know how i've been rather emotional …... i've also been tired, and i've needed more sleep than usual."

"ruth – are you sick? is something wrong."

"what?"

"tell me what it is. i need to know."

she reads the desperation in his voice, and shakes her head. "it's not …... anything bad. i think that catherine believed i was pregnant," she says, shaking her head.