Harriet's Arrangement

"I need help"

Harriet slept that afternoon, after Tom had finished taking care of her, murmuring how proud he was of her. She fell asleep tucked under a blanket on the sofa, cup of coffee half drunk on the table beside her, quiet and peaceful. When she woke a couple of hours later, it was to the smell of something delicious wafting through from the kitchen, and she sat up, blinking as she came back to the present. She stood, wincing as she did so, and made her way through to the kitchen. He had the radio on quietly and was humming to himself, a notebook open on the side and a pan of something garlicky sizzling away on the stove. She stood in the doorway, watching him for a moment as he flitted between jotting things down in the notebook and checking on the food. He noticed her before she said anything and smiled, putting his pen down and pulling her into a warm hug.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

"Sore," she said, ruefully, "But better."

He kissed her. "Are you hungry?"

"A little," she said, "What's cooking?"

"Paella," he said, ducking back over to the stove to check it, "Nice and simple, we can eat on the sofa if you like."

She blushed, his insinuation that she perhaps wouldn't manage a meal on the harder kitchen chairs perfectly obvious to her. "Thanks, Tom," she said, smiling, "Sounds perfect."

"Go sit," he said, "I'll bring you wine. This'll wait for a while."

He followed her through a few minutes later, two glasses of white in his hands, and handed her one as he sat down beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

She ran a finger round the rim of her glass, thinking. "I'm not sure," she said, truthfully, "I don't know that there's much point speculating."

He nodded. "No," he agreed, "But do you want to have a plan for what to do if she contacts you?"

"Is that your way of saying that my plan should be to immediately call you and to never meet her on my own?"

"Watch it, Miss Hattie," he warned, only a little playfully, "But yes, that's the gist."

She bit her lip at his raised eyebrow and hid a smile. "That's as much of a plan as I think I can have – until I know what the situation is. We can figure it out if we need to, right?"

"Right," he said, "And Hattie... although I was upset that you'd done that without speaking to me first, and the fact that you went on your own, and the fact that you didn't tell me straight away... I do think that had you asked me or had I been there I would have agreed that you did the right thing. But I stand by what I said before: you're my first priority, and you must never put yourself in a position like that again. If she needs help we'll do it together, safely. Understand?"

She nodded. "Yes. Sorry, again, I really am," she said, "And thank you. I so appreciate your support."

He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. "Always," he said.

**

A few weeks went by without much incident. Lily and Adam returned from their honeymoon, more gooey-eyed than ever, and Lily had no reservations about sharing every detail with Eva and Harriet at the first opportunity. Eva had teased a little information out of Harriet in the days following the wedding about how Tom had dealt with learning about what had happened with Malcolm and Jennifer. Harriet had been guarded in her response, but had given Eva enough detail – mostly about the night of the wedding than about the actual punishment – to make her feel like she was party to secret information. She'd been fascinated by the crop, and Harriet's somewhat love-hate relationship with it. The way she felt about the crop was a dulled down version of the way she felt about the cane, which Tom saved for sessions that were a little more in-depth and took her longer to come down from. She hadn't talked about the cane with Eva, or indeed the paddle – but for different reasons. Those feelings she felt were for Tom and Tom alone.