Autumn Leaves Burning Part I

[Silktie]

Spoilers for season 9

DAY ONE

October 2011
Sussex

Ruth notices the watchers as soon as she turns into the street. They are sitting in a car facing her way about fifty metres down the road. She slows down to check the house numbers, acutely aware that her car is under scrutiny from the two men. Twelve, fourteen, sixteen...
Her eyes count ahead and identify the house likely to be numbered twenty-two, and it is right across from where the two men are sitting in the parked car. She turns into the kerb just short of the nondescript house and sits for a moment, observing it. Steeling herself. There is no sign of life. With a final deep breath she gets out and looks directly at the two men. They openly stare back at her, and when she turns her back on them and approaches the front door, she knows automatically that one of them is already reaching for his mobile.

Butterflies have taken up residence in her stomach and she rings the doorbell with a shaky hand. She listens intently, but can hear no noise from within. No heavy footsteps, or the pattering and barking of a little dog. In lieu of ringing a second time, she tries the doorknob, and to her surprise it opens. A glance confirms that the door is indeed equipped with a safety chain and a dead-bolt, but the occupant is clearly unconcerned about security. She ponders this for a moment, wondering whether it is an indication of changed priorities, before dismissing the thought. It probably has more to do with the two men sitting a few yards away. She closes the door softly behind her and stands, listening to the silence of the house. She doesn’t call out. A few steps forward brings her into the open-plan living room, and she surveys it with undisguised curiosity. There is nothing that gives a hint as to the identity or the personality of the occupant, and its barrenness makes her heart constrict. It looks more like a self-imposed cell than someone’s house, and she wonders again what she should read into that.

A flashing light catches her eye, and she sees a laptop sitting on the dining table, in sleep mode. She moves over to it, and hesitates for only a second before tapping one of the keys. As she waits for it to activate, she looks around one more time. The room is obsessively neat and sparkling clean; perhaps the Service is paying for a cleaner. There is a television, switched off, an impressive sound system and a comfortable chair placed before the window. A reading light is conveniently angled towards it, and this time she notices the book lying on the table beside it. Before she can make out the title, the screen in front of her comes to life, opening on an on-line chess tournament. Automatically she scans the names entered, and a smile forms when she notices one in particular. Giles Farmer has won his quarterfinal, and is scheduled to play against someone called Knight Raider in the semis. She is impressed, although she supposes she should have known that he would be good at chess.

The fragrance of burning autumn leaves reaches her through the open window, and she walks over to it and looks out over a decent-sized back garden dominated by a large oak. Smoke is rising from a drum situated in one corner; leaves have been raked into a big pile beside it. And then she sees him through the smoke, rhythmically raking more leaves into another pile. Her heart lurches, and she realises that she has never seen him doing anything so mundane, so... domestic. For the first time in a year, she dares to whisper his name.
“Harry.”
Although it is impossible for him to have heard her, he pauses in his movements and lifts his head, staring at the house. His eyes unerringly find her, and they just look at each other for an eternity. Before conscious thought catches up with her actions, Ruth finds her feet moving her through the sliding door and across the lawn towards him. Harry doesn’t move, but his eyes never leave her until she comes to a stop on the other side of the drum.

This is even harder than she expected. She has to try twice before her voice works.
“Hello, Harry.”
He has his best poker face on, but she has always been able to read him better than anyone else. He is unsettled at the sight of her.
“Hello, Ruth.” His voice sounds hoarse, as though he doesn’t use it often.
Silence settles over them again as they drink each other in. She looks wonderful, and he is forced to take a few deep breaths to rein in the emotion threatening to overwhelm him.
“I wasn’t expecting company,” he finally says, and she isn’t sure whether this is meant to excuse his casual appearance, or an indication that he wasn’t expecting to see her. Perhaps ever again. The thought is unwelcome and she pushes it aside, and instead concentrates on him. He is neatly groomed – hair cut short and clean-shaven, dressed in clean jeans and a thick light blue flannel shirt over a white t-shirt. She’s not sure what she expected. Harry has always been fastidious, and there is no reason why enforced retirement should have changed that. Still, she is relieved to see him so well put together. Part of her, she realises, feared that losing everything – his job, his reputation and yes, her – would destroy him. It pains her to think about that and she casts around for a safe topic of conversation.

She surveys the neat garden and realises that she is missing something.
“Where’s Scarlet?”
He turns away suddenly. “Died two months ago,” he says gruffly before bending down to gather an armful of leaves and depositing them into the drum. He watches fixedly as the flames swallow up the new arrivals.
Ruth’s heart breaks at the thought of Harry losing his faithful companion. “Oh, Harry,” she says softly and takes a step towards him, but he backs away and shakes his head.
Don’t do this, his whole demeanour screams at her, this is hard enough for me.
He is looking intently at her now. There is wariness in his eyes, and an unmistakable warning.
“Why are you here, Ruth?” The question is asked bluntly, and his intentions are clear. He wants no more games. Only the truth.
She obliges. “I’ve resigned. Yesterday was my last day on the Grid.”

Her answer knocks the fight out of him. He stares at her, genuinely surprised. “Why? You loved your job.”
She laughs hopelessly. “Mostly, yes. But there were also times when I hated it.” Her eyes find his. “Those times became too numerous. The personal cost has become too high; it’s time to move on,” she says meaningfully.
He closes his eyes briefly, then bends down to gather more leaves, taking his time over it. She watches as he feeds them into the fire. He does not acknowledge what she said, and her head drops at his carefully neutral expression.
So much for that, then. She swallows hard, and nods to herself. “All right,” she says resignedly, defeat in her voice. When she lifts her head there is a sheen in her eyes, and it almost breaks his resolve but he forces himself not to move towards her.
“I hope you’re happy, Harry-“ Her voice catches, and he can’t bear it.
“Ruth-“
“-and I wish things could have been different. I’ll leave you in peace-“
“Ruth!”
She has already turned away when his voice gets through to her and she stops, unsure.
He is in front of her now and his hand is on her arm. “Don’t cry,” he says gently, handing her his handkerchief. He gives her a few moments before he tries to explain. “I can’t give you what you want. Not here.”
She looks at him, and his eyes are ever so sad and adoring, and it reminds her of another conversation between them. “Because this is a little house in Sussex?” she guesses.
For a moment she sees the old familiar sparkle of amusement in his face. “Ironic, isn’t it?” he acknowledges wryly.

Her emotions now back under control, she hands back his handkerchief. “So what do you talk to the neighbours about?” she asks lightly. There is no sense in prolonging the pain they both feel by rehashing lost opportunities, she decides.
“Oh, the weather, politics, sport.” He pauses before adding, “The nosy couple across the street.”
She searches his face, intrigued by his inflection.
“I wish things could have been different too, Ruth,” he continues, taking her elbow and steering her back into the house.
“Yes.” She smiles bravely. “Perhaps in a different life...”
“Or another time and place,” he finishes for her, glancing sideways at her. She hesitates momentarily, before murmuring a soft “Yes”. It makes him smile cautiously.
“Catherine has invited me to spend a weekend with her and her husband,” he says suddenly, apropos of nothing. “She wants to revisit this place along the coast I once took her and her brother to. I’m not sure though, one can never regain the magic of childhood, can one?”
Surprised by this unelicited confidence, she studies him carefully. “I think you should go. The magic of childhood might be gone, but it is perhaps a chance to rebuild your relationship with her?” She sounds uncertain, worried that she is misinterpreting his intentions and thus overstepping the boundaries of their acquaintance, but his smile doesn’t falter.
They pass the laptop and he notices the active screen, and lifts an eyebrow at her. He seems amused rather than angry at her snooping, and she shrugs with a smile. “Good luck against Knight Raider.”
He laughs, then sobers quickly. “Thanks. The match is in five days’ time, eight in the evening, if you wanted to watch it online.”
They have reached the front door and he turns to her, staring at her anxiously, as though her answer to his non-question matters very much to him.
“I will,” she promises, her voice turning husky with sudden emotion.
Neither of them move, and they stand, gazing at each other, knowing they may never meet again. Then Ruth takes a step forward, and Harry reciprocates, and they’re in each other’s arms, kissing briefly but passionately. She buries her face in his neck as he clutches her against him, and he smells like autumn leaves burning. He allows them only a few seconds before he gently pushes her away and opens the door.
“Goodbye, Ruth.” He doesn’t hide the raw emotion in his voice, and she gives him a watery smile.
“Goodbye, Harry.”
He stands in the door and watches her whilst she gets in the car. He’s still there as she drives past. The last thing she sees him do, is lift a hand to his mouth, and then she turns the corner and he is out of sight.

Harry stands for a moment longer, looking down the empty street, irrationally hoping that she’ll turn around and come back. She doesn’t, and he turns to stare at the two men seated in the car across the road pensively. Finally he goes back inside and closes the door behind him. He doesn’t lock it.

* * *

DAY TWO

London, Ruth’s flat

She is sitting in her favourite chair with a book on her lap. But she is not reading. Instead she stares off into the distance, pondering for the umpteenth time her visit to Harry’s. She weighs every word that was spoken between them critically, trying to reach a decision. She is almost fully convinced that her analysis is right, but she can’t get rid of the tiny sliver of doubt that remains lodged in her heart. Her thoughts are interrupted by a loud hammering at her door. Startled, she glances at the clock on the table. It is almost ten in the evening. She approaches the front door cautiously and peers through the peephole before drawing back swiftly, surprised. Frowning, she unlatches the door and opens it to the JIC Chairman, Richard Dolby.
“What do you want?” she asks harshly. Every time she sees him her anger at the way he treated Harry comes back in full force.
He brushes past her before demanding brusquely, “Where is he?”
Ruth shakes her head, confused. “Who?”
Dolby advances on her, and for the first time she notices that his face is contorted by full-scale panic. He stares at her wildly before almost shouting it out.
“Harry Pearce!”
When Ruth just looks at him uncomprehendingly, he states more calmly: “Harry has disappeared.”

tbc

[Sparky]

I'm really loving this one already! Looking forward to the next part(s) and hoping Ruth finds Harry.

[pookster]

Blimey ... the day one part was so heart wrenching. 'Perhaps in a different life' an amazing line and very emotional. Poor Ruth and Harry. And then the intrigue of Harry's disappearance. Looking forward to more. Please

[beatrice4ruth]

What a heart-breaking beginning! I feel for both of them. I assume that they were prohibited to see each other after the investigation. I hope that Harry is in a black op which might explain ““I can’t give you what you want. Not here” and the fact that he disappeared just after Ruth’s visit. I do not want to believe that Harry was kidnapped by his minders because Ruth found him. At home Ruth realized that Harry was giving her some clues about his situation. I know I am clutching at straws, but I cannot bear to see them unhappy.

[A Cousin]

Yea! A new one!

Mark my words, Ruth: 4 days time, 8pm, online game of chess with Knight Raider, somewhere seaside. Has to have significance.

BTW, Harry and Ruth's reunion made me cry. Seriously. I cried! I almost NEVER do that.

[kmac82]

Silktie. I love your fiction. Full stop. Keep it up!

[DogSoSmall]

Oh happy days! Well, sad days, but you know what I mean.

[Tea Lady]

Ok ok, this is great Silktie. I'm thinking that Harry and Ruth set this up perhaps? Maybe a year ago. The chess thing was a code?

Glad to see Giles Farmer get a mention and that Harry's computer skills seem to have improved.

[beatrice4ruth]

Tea Lady - interesting suggestion. You might be right. It would be more hopeful for the two than my idea that Harry might be undercover for the government as an outcome of the investigation. It is such a nail-biting story!

[Tineke]

Thanks Silktie, for making my day with your fics. This one is again very promising.
And I wonder, is Scarlet really dead ...?