Last chapter. Thank you for all the lovely reviews – I'm glad fluff mixed with geography and religion wasn't too much of a turn-off! If series 10 is really depressing, I'll write the trip these two make to cheer myself (and you) up ;-)

SPOILERS: New characters announced by Kudos for series 10 are included in this story

All the usual disclaimers apply.

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A Marriage (Not Quite) Made in Britain

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'You owe me, Tony.'

Harry was clutching Ruth's hand as if his life depended upon it. They were standing in the front porch of a run-down looking vicarage somewhere in County Armagh. It was two-thirty in the morning and it was pissing down with rain.

An old man peered at them through the crack provided by a door security chain. 'Owe you? You're talking rubbish. I don't even know who you are!'

Harry leaned closer, pulling Ruth with him. 'Do you really not recognise me?'

The Reverend Anthony Pallister hesitated and then widened his eyes. 'Harry Pearce? Goodness, I'm getting old and so are you! You'd better come in.'

'We brought reinforcements,' Ruth told him, waving a bottle of Bushmills.

'Now you're talking. What's a nice girl like you doing with a prat like him?'

'That's what we've come to see you about.'

Once the door was open, Tony retied his dressing gown and retrieved his walking stick from a nearby elephant's foot. He shuffled off down the hall, trailing Harry and Ruth in his wake as they scrambled to take off their wet coats and hang them up.

'Bring them through to the kitchen,' he called. 'The Aga's about the only thing in this place that still works properly.'

Ruth made tea, Harry poured whisky. The vicar sat in a sagging chair and watched them closely. The kitchen was sadly dishevelled but at least it was reasonably clean. The milk was fresh, the mugs only slightly chipped and the cat that settled itself on Harry's lap was a sleek and well-fed fellow.

'What brings you to see me after all this time?'

'Ruth and I would like to get married.'

'Which concerns me because?'

'We have to do it tomorrow. Today.'

'So we need a special licence,' Ruth added quickly. 'And Harry thought you were the best person to ask for help.'

'Why me?'

'Any bishop of the Church of Northern Ireland can issue a special licence, and I expect you have a few phone numbers.'

'What's the rush?'

Ruth glanced at Harry. 'How do you know each other?'

'I used to pass on information that I happened to come across. Harry helped my parishioners out from time to time. He used to be here every Sunday, regular as clockwork.'

'Oh!'

'He has a nice enough singing voice, but he never would join the choir.'

'I couldn't make it to practice,' Harry explained as if he'd had to explain numerous times before.

Ruth leaned forwards in her chair and introduced herself to the cat. 'If you used to be an agent ...'

'I wouldn't put it quite like that.'

'But if I tell you that Harry's got a dangerous mission, you might actually believe I'm telling the truth.'

'Are you?'

'God's honest.'

'When do you have to leave?'

'Friday,' replied Harry.

'When did you find out?'

'Day before yesterday.'

'What did you spend yesterday doing, then?'

Harry grinned. 'Proposing marriage.'

'I thought you were married before. June? Janet? Jane?'

'Jane. I'm afraid we got divorced some time ago. We tried to make it work, but I just kept disappointing her. Eventually she kicked me out.'

'Children?'

'Two. Both grown up now.'

'Divorce means it'll have to be the Archbishop. And I'll have to ask you about the details if I'm to convince him to give you a licence.'

'Anything that'll help. I brought the Decree Absolute with me.'

Tony finished his whisky. 'Ruth, can you go to the bureau in the study? It's the door to the left of the front door. In the bottom drawer, underneath the Christmas carol sheets, there's a folder full of printed forms. We need to fill one of them out and then phone a friend.'

'It sounds to me like it's not just the Aga that works properly around here.'

Tony grinned and held out his glass for a refill. 'God moves in mysterious ways.'

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The archbishop had known Tony since they were at school together. He arrived in a chauffeur-driven car, scrutinised the paperwork, glared at Harry and smiled at Ruth as she explained that she was christened and confirmed and a regular evensong attendee to boot. He left an hour later, leaving a special licence behind him.

Ruth became Lady Pearce in front of Tony, Tony's next-door neighbour, Tony's next-door neighbour's sister, and a couple of Canadian tourists whose SatNav had gone wrong, causing them to wander in asking for directions halfway through the Service of Preparation for Remarriage in Church.

The bride wore dark blue and had dirty hair. The groom wore olive green corduroys and smelt rather strongly of whisky. Everyone agreed that it was a lovely service.

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'Honeymoon?'Erin Watts shouted, standing up behind her desk. 'What bloody honeymoon?'

'Mine,' said Ruth. 'And Harry's.'

'HARRY?'

'Yep. I still haven't decided whether to change my name. Which do you think sounds better? Miss Ruth Evershed, or Lady Ruth Pearce?'

'You can't have bloody married him!'

'Oh, I think I can. And owing to the fact that he's just been given the old heave-ho, we've got a bit of a trip planned. I'll be back, though, don't you worry.'

Erin stared at the dark-haired woman with the huge smile and had the sinking feeling that she might just have met her match. 'Where are you going?'

'Paris. And then Rome. And then Athens, Sofia, Warsaw and Moscow. Harry's calling it our Grand Tour.'

'How long for?'

'Four weeks. I checked with HR and they're fine about it. They said I was long overdue a decent holiday.'

'How the hell did you get clearance for a trip like that?'

'The D.G. and Six are okay about it. I suspect they're hoping it'll help Harry leave quietly.'

There was no arguing with that kind of authority. Erin sat down again and shrugged her defeat elegantly. 'Well, then. Have a nice time.'

Ruth's smile grew even bigger. 'Thanks. We'll do our best.'

THE END