Mornings came early at Royal Lodge Farm; Justin sat down at the kitchen table just as the old grandfather clock in the hall chimed out the hour. The low morning sun rose steady into a clear blue sky, with the smooth horizon broken occasionally by narrow seams of white thorn hedgerows that stitched together a patchwork of irregular green fields quilting the countryside.
It was always brighter at this time of year, the frost in the cool autumn air amplifying the light that flooded through the kitchen window. The fresh linen table cloth reflected against the chalk white ceiling and walls, illuminating the room further, caused Justin to squint slightly as he leaned across the table to pour another cup of hot tea.
He still felt tired from the flight the night before, but the brightness of the room and fresh country air was revitalising and had a way of waking you up and giving you new life.

A smile of discernment adorned his face as he stirred the cup with a silver spoon. He couldn’t believe he had fallen into her trap again. He had actually asked to stay here with the one that had once totally screwed up his mind, and for that matter his life, some others weren’t just so lucky. Even he wondered why he had put himself in such a position, but for the moment his options were few. She stood there, looking so breakable and fragile, or so it seemed, yet he wondered was she planning something for him, a game maybe? She was like a cat that plays with the mouse before making the kill. Was he her prey?
The presents of her eyes would captivate any man, they were glistening dark brown, but also like the eyes of a doll they could be lifeless and dull. Her beauty alone had proven many times to be a formidable weapon; she had all the power and knew it.
What dangers laid beneath this beautiful veneer, would later be revealed.

He sat down at the large wooden kitchen table. It was solid oak and well used and like the house it had seen many faces. As he sat there on the wooden carver, his eyes focused on hers as she stood across the room close to the cooking hob. Petite with refinement and more beautiful than an angel, yet more deadly than a viper she was walking his way. It was at that moment he knew, what he hoped to have been a simple chat and a cup of tea with an old friend could become the beginning of his end.
Yet, he allowed himself to be close to her with an almost uncaring ease. Seldom was it that he could be with a woman of such danger as he was today and despite her past betrayal he was still deeply attracted to her. His love for her was still alive, yet love can be a dangerous thing, like a hook it can hold you in pain being reeled into your own death.

He drank the steaming tea as fast as he would a hot whisky, which would have been a better choice of drink from where he stood. As she approached, his instinct told him to get out of the angle-vipers way, but it was way too late for that, she was by now coiled beside him, “ready to strike."
He felt he had to go through with this, it was the only way. He hoped this time around seeing Ruth again wouldn’t end in tragedy, or worse. He still feared, what may await him could turn out to be fatal, but he knew she held the key to his past and the friend he searched for, the friend he had come to find.