Chapter 1 – Love Isn't A Decision?
"Love isn't a decision. It's a feeling. If we could decide who we loved, it would be much simpler, but much less magical." Trey Parker and Matt Stone
"So how was it for you?"
Dempsey turned to watch Harry as she wended her way back to their desks, a mug of coffee in each hand.
She hadn't participated in the general chit-chat, preferring instead to listen to her colleague's humorous thoughts and observations on what had been their big night out.
"Interesting," she replied in that detached way of hers that drove Dempsey mad.
She handed him his hot drink and a supercilious smile. "A study in the fine art of treading eggshells whilst under the influence I would say."
Dempsey took his steaming mug from her, holding it gingerly at the rim and then transferring it sharply to the desk, a curse hissing from his lips.
"Maybe you just need to learn to let your hair down and loosen that corset a little, princess."
"Yes, well I don't always agree with mixing business with pleasure," Harry said smoothly, "at least not our particular business."
He laughed, pulling a biro from the tidy tube beside his stack of letter trays.
"Come on, you didn't have fun Saturday? Your guy Richard didn't have fun?"
It had been a unique occasion; not only the first official department soiree but the fifth anniversary of SI-10's inception.
Their esteemed Detective Chief Superintendent, Gordon Spikings, proud of the achievements of his team had got the top brass to cough up for a meal at The Dorchester on Park Lane along with a hundred quid behind the bar. It had been a black-tie affair with a plus one of course. Truth was that most of the boys would have preferred a slap up at the local steak house and a bit of a boogie after though to a man, the sentiment was very much appreciated.
"It was a pleasant enough evening," Harry acquiesced.
"You shoulda stuck around; we moved on to Miss Blanche's Bar after The Black Orchid. We were tearin' up the joint by midnight."
Harry gave him a look. "That's what I was afraid of."
He watched her take a small sip of coffee before busying herself by sifting through a tediously large batch of surveillance photographs.
"Yeah, yeah. I've seen you in party animal mode, tiger," he growled quietly, a deep, rolling sound causing Harry to purse her lips. "I'm guessin' you an' Richie-boy had other plans though, hah?" he continued when Harry didn't respond.
"Actually yes," Harry said, trying to ignore the leering tone in his voice. "We'd been invited to a party his cousin was throwing. Double booked," she recapitulated.
"Meeting the family…" Dempsey left his implication hanging.
She merely smiled benignly. "Did April enjoy the evening?" she asked, turning the conversation to him.
That simple question seemed to wrong-foot him for a moment and he grinned in an uncharacteristically self-conscious fashion.
"Yeah, she had a great time. She was a little nervous at the start, not knowing anybody, the ritzy venue and all. And we haven't been dating for long."
"You've been going out together for three weeks I think she said? Maybe she doesn't realise that makes you practically engaged in your book."
"Funny," he passed it off. "But the guys seemed to like her and she liked them and their ladies an' by the end of the night, it was like she was one of the gang – fit right in there, y'know."
"Shame I left early then."
"We could stay if you like – blow the party off," Richard had said at around 10:15pm.
Things had livened up considerably after they'd left The Dorchester and moved on to The Black Orchid and Harry's date was more than happy to stick around. But she had felt uncomfortable and rather irritable and had been grateful for the excuse to leave. It had been shaping up to be a great night and she should have been enjoying herself but…
"Yeah, it was a shame," said Dempsey with what sounded like genuine regret.
So, he wanted her approval probably - wanted to know that she'd liked April too. Normally he wasn't particularly concerned about what she thought of his girlfriends, mainly because he already knew. Once you'd met one, you'd met them all; attractive girls who were just a bit too aware of the fact, drowning in their own pseudo-sophistication and believing that sleeping with a man you'd just met because you chose to meant you were a strong, independent, modern woman.
Whilst Harry was all for equality between the sexes, she still held fast to old values which she liked to think were a by-product of her titled upbringing. That said, she had heard so many tales of wild hedonism and dark debauchery going on behind the closed doors of aristocratic houses down the centuries and through to present day (Camilla Clowey-Fawkes should be thoroughly ashamed of herself if the chestnut Arab/Laurent-Perrier incident was anything more than tittle tattle) that it made rather a joke of that theory. So maybe just her parent's noble and civilised attitude in the face of a steadily declining society had moulded her moral code.
But April seemed quite different. Suffice it to say, Harry's expectations of his latest 'squeeze' had been driven dramatically over to the perfectly acceptable side.
"April, I'd like to introduce you to my partner, Harry Makepeace… Harry, say hello to my girl here, April."
April had done a double-take and laughed. "Oh God, I'm sorry… 'you're' Harry?! I hadn't realised, I mean, I'd just assumed Harry was a man!"
She'd looked back at Dempsey with a reproving smile on her lips and asked, "Honestly, Jim, why didn't you say?"
He'd shrugged and simply said, "Well, now you know."
It had been at that point that Harry basically hadn't wanted to be there. Dempsey didn't talk about her to April; hadn't even got further than establishing that he had a partner by the sounds of it, even though they spent how many hours at work together? "I'd just assumed," April had said which implied the need for a pronoun had never arisen.
It had hurt more than she could ever have anticipated, the idea that when in this woman's company, she, Harry, failed to register any significance to him.
And what did that mean? Was April that special? Was she 'the one'? The thought made her insides shrivel and her mouth go dry. Up until now she had managed to keep it at bay, had refused to let herself acknowledge or even think about the strangely amorous feelings for Dempsey which had somehow developed over the past few months.
Suddenly, Dempsey cracked one of his broad sunshine-filled grins. "Hey, what say the four of us get together for dinner and drinks next weekend? Could be fun," he enthused.
"Oh sorry, not next weekend, we already have plans."
She knew she was just putting off the inevitable and sure enough, the invitation was extended to the weekend following. This in itself evoked a sinking feeling in Harry's stomach for the simple fact that he was planning ahead with April. They would be five weeks into their relationship. Still, she told herself, with Dempsey's track record, there was every chance the dinner date would come to nought – wouldn't it?
I haven't forgotten about 'Present Imperfect' even though it seems very much in the past right now. I've written another couple of chapters to it and once I've posted all of this new story, I'll definitely return to it.
I won't be making that same mistake with 'April Fool' though as I've already written the whole story and will post at regular intervals.
AF - Keeping my fingers crossed on the 'sucking in' front ;-)
