The Gentleman's Game

[Silktie]

A bit of HR fun. With apologies to the Aussies and fellow South Africans, no disrespect is intended!

The Gentleman’s Game

He unlocked his front door with difficulty. His fingers were stiff and unresponsive, as though they belonged to someone else. He sighed with relief as he finally got inside, pushed the door to behind him, and leant heavily against it. In fact, it was not only his fingers that were a problem. His whole body seemed to be stiffening up and he pushed himself away from the door with great difficulty and trudged down the corridor. A glimpse of his reflection in the hall mirror brought him to an abrupt halt, and he reluctantly turned to face it full-on.
“Hells bells…” Harry surveyed the spectre staring back at him in some disbelief. His suit was soiled, his shirt torn and spattered with blood. His left eye was swelling shut and had taken on a nice purple hue, which did nothing to camouflage the four stitches in his eyebrow. He also had a fat lip, and when he lifted his hand to touch it, he noticed that his knuckles were raw and swelling.
With a sigh, Harry met his own good eye squarely in the mirror before muttering: “Stupid bloody fool.”

He headed straight for the drinks tray, filling a glass with lots of ice and pouring a healthy measure of single malt into it. He wasn’t one for diluting his whiskey with ice normally, but needs must, he reflected as he pressed the glass against his swollen eye. A scrabbling noise at the conservatory door reminded him that he had to let the pets in. As he opened the door, Scarlet launched herself at him enthusiastically.
“Hi, girl, okay, Scarlet, good d… Ow! Bloody hell!” Apparently he had a bruised knee as well. He put his hand on the little dog’s head to calm her down, and she sniffed at the broken skin on his knuckles cautiously.
“Yeah, your master wasn’t too clever today. Getting too old for such shenanigans, girl.” Scarlet wagged her tail and licked his hand gently. Harry fondled her ears. “At least you’re not disappointed in me…”

He straightened up with a slight groan. His good eye swung to the stairs with trepidation, before he squared his shoulders and heaved himself painfully up them, heading straight for the bathroom. Filling the bath almost to the rim, Harry stripped off, dumping his ruined clothes unceremoniously on the floor and easing his battered body into the warm water with a grateful sigh.

He continued to press the cold glass against his left eye in between sips, and gloomily contemplated the reaction he was likely to receive from the only person whose opinion he really cared about. He didn’t think he could bear her looking at him, those soulful eyes filled with disappointment. Hell, he was a little disappointed in himself, so how was she going to react? He briefly considered lying to her, but almost immediately dismissed that thought. He did enough of that in his professional life; he was not going to start down that road with her. Besides, the old trusted ‘I walked into a door’ was hardly likely to wash given the extent of his injuries. No, Harry thought disconsolately, he’d have to man up and tell her the truth. He idly wondered what time it was. Perhaps he would be lucky, and she would decide not to come over tonight, leaving him more time to think about how to explain his appearance to her… The thought was barely finished when he heard the front door open and close, followed by footsteps coming up the stairs. Harry rolled his good eye. “Of course,” he muttered sardonically, and took a generous sip of whiskey.

The bathroom door opened, followed by Ruth’s cheerful voice: “I didn’t expect to find you home, luxuriating in the b…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes fell on the blood-spattered shirt, before jumping to the figure slumped in the bath. “Oh my God…”
Harry turned his head, giving her a full view of his face.
“Harry?!!” Fear, confusion and concern vied for dominance in Ruth’s expression.
“I’m all right, Ruth. I promise. I’ve been thoroughly checked by a doctor and he assured me there would be no lasting damage.” Harry tried to smile reassuringly, but this only caused his lip to start oozing blood again and did nothing to mollify Ruth.
“How can you be all right? Look at you!” She suddenly remembered Harry’s general dislike of doctors and hospitals, and his penchant for discharging himself against medical advice. “Wait, did you really see a doctor, or are you just saying that so I wouldn’t drag you off to hospital?”
Harry rolled his eye again. “Yes, Ruth, I really saw a doctor. I’m not bloody likely to put stitches into my own eye, am I!”
Ruth glared at him. “I don’t think this is the best time for sarcasm, Harry.” She was relieved, though. He couldn’t be too badly injured if he could still muster his normal bluster.

Having calmed down slightly, she sighed. “Okay. What the hell happened?”
Harry avoided eye contact. “It’s a long story…”
Ruth eyed him curiously when he didn’t elaborate. Her first thought upon seeing him had been that he had been mugged, or in a car accident. But if that were the case, why did he seem almost… embarrassed? Her analytical skills kicking in, she considered what facts she had. Harry had said he was going to his club after work, to watch the cricket. If something had happened on the way there, why would he be embarrassed about it? Then her eyes fell on his grazed knuckles, and the pieces began to click into place. He would be embarrassed if he’d been in a fight…

She took a deep breath. “Harry, you told me you were going to your club to watch the end of the Ashes Test when you left work.”
“I did!” There was a defensive note in his voice.
Ruth regarded him incredulously. “Are you saying this happened to you at your club? Whilst watching cricket?”
Harry still would not meet her eye, muttering: “That idiot Dolby decided to invite a whole gaggle of foreign diplomats,” as if that explained everything.

Silence. He risked a glance at Ruth and found her staring at him with a raised eyebrow. She clearly was not satisfied with his pitiful explanation. Harry sighed. “There was, erm, a whole bunch of Australians among them. Comments were made. Insults were traded. Things escalated…” He trailed off, uncertain how to continue.
Ruth could not believe what she was hearing. “Are you saying,” she said slowly, “that there was a brawl between a bunch of middle-aged men, many of whom were diplomats, over a cricket match?”
Harry looked even more embarrassed. “Well, when you put it like that…” He made another attempt to save face. “In my defence, I didn’t start it. In fact, the whole thing was almost avoided, but then the bloody South Africans got involved as well, and that only poured fuel on the fire. You know they like nothing better than putting the boot into their old colonial masters.” Harry had regained some of his confidence by the end of his little explanation, but one look at Ruth’s face told him that it was misplaced. She folded her arms, and asked in a reasonable tone of voice: “And the reason you didn’t do the mature thing and walked away when the fight started was…?”

Harry closed his eye and pinched the bridge of his nose – carefully. That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? The question he’d been asking himself ever since ending up in the emergency room of the nearest hospital. Why didn’t he just walk away? He thought of himself as a civilised man, who used his cutting wit and words rather than his fists to sort out those who annoyed or angered him. But at the same time, he could never back down from an unavoidable fight, even those not of his own making. It seemed you could take the man out of Yorkshire, but you could never fully take Yorkshire out of the man in his case.

When he responded, he looked Ruth in the eye, and told the truth. “I don’t know. It’s another of my many limitations, I suppose. I never could walk away from a fight. And this time… They insulted England, Ruth. I couldn’t stand by and let that happen on my watch. It is my job to defend this country, and that includes defending her honour when necessary as well.”

Ruth was left speechless for once. “But…” She stared at Harry’s damaged face, fumbling for an answer. She should tell him that cricket was only a game, that civilised men did not get involved in fist fights in gentlemen’s clubs over a few insults, and that it was ridiculous to suggest that this was in any way in the same league as defending the country from terrorists. But then his earnest expression reminded her of everything she knew about this man, about his code of honour and his love for his country, and she realised he was right. Sir Harry Pearce could never back down from any fight where his beloved England’s safety or honour was at stake, even one as juvenile as fighting over a stupid cricket match.

She sighed and moved over to sit on the rim of the bath. “Here, let me see,” she said gently as she used the washcloth to wipe the blood from his lip. Silence reigned for a while, but Harry’s eye never strayed from her face. When Ruth finally met his look, hers was filled with love and understanding. As she spoke, there was a definite twinkle in her eye: “And here I was thinking cricket is the Gentleman’s Game.”
Harry was profoundly relieved that Ruth seemed to see the funny side of things. He reached up a hand to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks, Ruth.”
They shared a wordless moment, both aware that Harry meant so much more than just thanking her for being understanding about that day’s events.
It was Ruth who finally spoke. “So, who won then?”
“We did.” It was said with no little amount of smugness, making Ruth realise that Harry was referring to the fight rather than the test. He was obviously quite proud of the English gentry’s brawling abilities. The corners of Ruth’s mouth twitched. God, how she loved this man.
“I was talking about the cricket, Harry.”
“Ah, right.” Harry looked a little sheepish, and rankled the ice in his glass as a distraction.
“It was, erm, it was a draw.”

THE END

[Tea Lady]

Ha ha, that was great Silktie. Really made me laugh. Poor Harry, he's just a little too old to be getting into fist fights but just couldnt help himself. Liked the reference to Yorkshire man and Ruth being understanding in the end. Well done.

[Beatriz]

It was very funny I love Harry in this kind of situation. Lovely read!!

[Aria]

Lovely story Silktie. Great to see Harry defending Englands honour against the Aussies and South Africans
Hope you post more stories.

[lwhite53]

This is terrific Silktie -- loved action Harry and Ruth's ultimate reaction.

[JHyde]

If there must be HR fluff, this is the sort I want to read! I loved it, Silktie and laughed out loud at the idea of Harry not being able to refuse the baiting of being called chicken.

I also like that it was a slightly believable bit of fluff and had Ruth and Harry chatting with one of them in a bath. No big deal, no big explanations. Just there.

Really lovely. I do hope we can expect more!

[HellsBells]

Lovely writing Silktie, a really enjoyable story. Liked the ending that Harry was smug about winning the brawl.

[Nia M]

Really really enjoyed this Silktie

[i luv lucas]

Very cool story Silktie, it made me LOL!!

[almh]

Genius! You have just made my Geography lesson so much more fun (although my friend is wondering why I'm grinning at the screen)