Equilibrium.
"A shambles! An absolute shambles! You made yourselves and me look like a bunch of amateurs! I sometimes wonder what the hell I'm paying you lot for!"
The Conference Room was crowded with seated agents listening uncomfortably to the roasting being metered out by George Cowley, head of C.I.5. Yesterday's debacle, which had resulted in three operatives hospitalised and the subsequent escape of one of Britain's most wanted, was now the subject of an hour long postmortem and Cowley had just rounded it off with a final volley of abuse at his agents. But as he had spoken his eyes had been increasingly drawn to one of his men in particular. He had no doubt that the agent was listening just as intently as the next man but Cowley detected a distant distracted look about him.
It was now a little over a month since Bodie's departure. 'Not long, I suppose,' thought Cowley, 'for Doyle to adjust to life without him.' There had been a few days of obvious shock and disbelief at the news and that had been followed by several more days of expected despondency but, as the days had stretched on, he had seemed to become more miserable and low in spirit.
Today, for some reason, there seemed to be an added stillness and an air of silence about him. Yes, Doyle had played a part in yesterday's failed raid but Cowley didn't believe that that was now contributing to his mood.
"Alright," said Cowley eventually to his audience. "Let's break for lunch and then I want you all back in here in an hour to see where we go from here."
There was a collective rising from seats and scraping back of chairs and then Cowley's men filed out of the room in continued silence. Doyle, subdued, began to follow them.
"Doyle?" Cowley called out and his agent turned towards him.
"Everything alright,Doyle?"
"Yes, Sir." When their eyes met Cowley was shocked to feel a vast gulf of distance between them and he suddenly found he hadn't a clue what to say next. He had, on more than one occasion wanted to ask after Bodie. What was the man doing, had he secured employment elsewhere? He'd not heard a word about him and he'd held back any inquiry with Doyle for fear of further upset and the days had stretched away until he felt it too late to ask.
Cowley remembered their final meeting and the anger he had felt as Bodie had handed in his finished report. He had once told someone that he was not an emotional man but he had been full of emotion that evening. Anger that his orders had been disobeyed, fear at the possible death of another operative and swept with an overwhelming sadness that he had had to dismiss Bodie, undoubtedly one of his best agents. "Go home!" he had ordered and Bodie had left. That was the last Cowley had seen of him.
Now Cowley stood gawping blankly at Doyle. The easy rapport they usually shared had gone. They stared at each other motionless for what seemed ages, Doyle expecting something more from his boss, Cowley almost speechless.
"Good." he uttered eventually. "You'd better get yourself some lunch."
Cowley, shaken, watched Doyle leave and then he wandered thoughtfully back to his office. Standing by his desk he lifted the phone's receiver.
"Betty, get Macklin and Dr. Ross to come over to my office now, will you?"
"Yes, Sir."
Cowley gazed out of the window pondering on what he had seen in his agent's eyes. Sadness? Loss? Yes, but not blame. He hadn't read blame in those green eyes that had blinked back at him expectantly. Should he have? No. Bodie had been warned time and time again about following orders, Doyle knew that. It was only a matter of time before I had to act, thought Cowley. But I hope Doyle realises that he's not the only one who misses Bodie. I miss him too. I hope they both know how hard a decision it was for me to make. I've lost a first rate operative, one of my best men and although we weren't friends in the true sense of the word we enjoyed a good relationship, almost fatherly on my part. I'll miss that.
When Macklin and Dr. Kate Ross arrived Cowley ushered them quickly into seats.
"Doyle." he stated firmly. "How are we finding him since Bodie's gone?"
"If you want my honest opinion," began Macklin." I think he's struggling. He's used to having someone there all the time, someone who was a part of him and knew him inside out."
"I agree," nodded her head. "You've got to remember that those two weren't just partners on the job they were also friends, good friends. Now that has gone and it's left a big hole."
"Like a bereavement?" Cowley listened intently to her. He wasn't a big fan of her theories but he needed an insight into his operatives state of mind.
"If you like, yes."
"So what do you suggest?"
"Give him something to focus on. Getting him a new partner would be a start."
"That won't be easy." commented Macklin. "People like Bodie don't come along very often."
"No indeed." agreed Cowley. "And what if I do nothing, leave him on his own for the time being?"
"Then he'll continue to brood."
Cowley nodded. He'd known all this of course and had already given some thought as to who should partner Doyle but it was good to have his concerns confirmed.
"I thought of teaming him up with Murphy. He's due back in work on Monday having been given a clean bill of health after the shooting. They seem to get on well enough. Any objections?"
"Not from me." replied Dr, Ross.
"Nor me. Murphy's a good agent." Macklin agreed. "They'll be a good match."
"Good. I'll run that by Murphy though I don't envisage any problems."
Ray Doyle wandered aimlessly into the gardens below the C.I.5 offices. The summer air was thick with the intoxicating scent of roses and drowsy with the sound of bees. Such an atmosphere would ordinarily have lifted his spirits but not today. In fact, not any day since Bodie had gone. He took a seat on one of the wooden benches that lined the flower beds. He had known he would find it hard without Bodie but not this hard and things seemed to be going from bad to worse. Yesterday was proof.
Doyle tilted his head back and felt the warmth of the sun soak into his face. He let a loose thought drift to the front of his mind and for the first time he gave it his serious attention. He would follow Bodie's lead and leave C.I.5. He'd served his time here and it wasn't the same place anymore. It was time for pastures new. Maybe back to the police force where he'd first started out. He could see himself easily fitting back in.
He leaned forward and dragged a hand through his curls as he recalled the events of last night. He'd no sooner got into his flat when the phone had rung.
"Hello," Bodie's familiar voice was music to his ears. "I wondered if you'd be home yet. Fancy a drink? I need to tell you something."
"I'd love a drink after the day I've had." Doyle revealed.
"Yeah? What happened?"
"I'll tell you later."
"Okay, see you in the Hope and Anchor in about an hour?"
"You're on."
The minute Ray walked into the busy pub he relaxed instantly into its congenial atmosphere and the sight of Bodie seated at a table tucked in a far corner began to melt away the stress of the day. As he approached Bodie grinned at him and pushed a pint across the table.
"Cheers, mate." Ray sat down and lifted the glass to take a long and welcome draught of cold lager.
"So, why are you having a bad day?" Bodie asked.
"You know the raid I told you about? It was a disaster."
"What went wrong?" Bodie might not be at C.I.5 any longer but he couldn't hide his eagerness to know what was still going on there. Even after six weeks he was finding it hard to let go and he'd never admit it to anyone but himself that he couldn't help but worry about Ray out on potentially dangerous assignments.
"Everything." Ray sighed."Henderson, Miller and Snow were all injured and spent the night in hospital. And Novak got away. Cowley went ballistic."
"Not nice."
"No, and tomorrow he's dragging us all in to tear us apart about it. I was as much to blame. It's hard remembering that it's not you there with me. I always knew how long it would take you to reach a given point, know what you're likely to do, how you'll react, know how you'd play things. I never had to think about it. But I was with Henderson and…."
"You zigged and he zagged."
"Something like that, yeah." Ray confirmed, downing the last of the pint in one.
"Anyway, enough about my day. What have you been up to?"
"Get us another pint in and I'll tell you."
Ray noted the excitement in Bodie's eyes and he headed to the bar dutifully returning to set two more pints on the table.
"Got myself a job." Bodie grinned in answer to Ray's enquiring gaze.
"About bloody time! How long's it been? Nearly six weeks? Lazy sod! So who is so desperate as to take you on then?"
"Africa. I'm going back out to Africa." Bodie announced, his eyes shining with happiness.
Ray felt the last fragile grip on his world as he knew it suddenly fall away. "Africa?
"Yeah. Rang a mate of mine and he fixed me up."
"When?" Ray was half afraid to ask.
"In a few days."
"A few days? How long for? I mean, you'll be coming back, right?"
"Doubt it, mate. Coming back for what? There's nothing keeping me here."
In the noise of the pub there was suddenly an aching silence between the two men as Ray fought to take in Bodie's news. Not only had he lost his partner it now seemed as if he was to lose his friend as well. As if he sensed this Bodie stretched out a finger to touch Ray's arm.
"But we'll keep in touch, won't we?" he said brightly. "I mean it's only Africa. I can write." Ray knew Bodie well enough to know that that wouldn't happen. Writing letters just wasn't Bodie.
"Yeah, 'course."
"Come on," said Bodie."Let's go back to my place. You can help me finish off a bottle of scotch."
Ray nodded and both men drank the last of their drinks and got up. A few minutes later and Bodie was opening the door to his flat. Ray stared at all the tea chests and packed cardboard boxes strewn around the lounge and noted the passport and plane ticket on the coffee table.
"You're really going then." The reality began to hit home and he quelled a sudden rush to scream, to beg Bodie not to go.
"Yeah, most of this is going into storage until I find a place out there. Then I'll have it sent over, not that I've got that much. I'm really looking forward to going. It's time for a change, a new challenge." Bodie poured equal measures of scotch into two glasses and handed one to Ray.
"I'm sorry about all this, mate." he said. "If I'd done as Cowley had asked none of this would be happening."
"I'm glad you did, it probably saved my life and Murphy's."
"How is Murphy?"
"Out of hospital and recovering at home. He's back to work on Monday."
"Reckon Cowley will partner you two?"
"Dunno." Ray shrugged.
"You like Murphy and he's a really good agent. You two will be great." Bodie said encouragingly. 'Yeah' thought Ray, 'but he's not you is he.'
"Actually," he said slowly. "I think I'll be leaving C.I.5."
"You're kidding!" Bodie exclaimed. "You love that job."
"Used to. I don't want to make your head swell but it's not the same without you."
"Don't do anything rash, Ray. Think about it carefully."
"What do you think I've been doing since you left! Perhaps it's like you say, time for a change."
"Come to Africa with me! We'd have a great time!"
"Thanks, but no thanks mate, Africa's not for me. You know I'm a home body."
"Well, if you change your mind…"
"You know I won't." Ray got to his feet. "I should be going. I want to be on the ball for Cowley's dressing down tomorrow."
"How is the old man these days?" Bodie asked casually. "Missing me?"
"Hardly. In fact he's never mentioned you. I expect he's relieved he hasn't got to worry about you messing up his plans. Just as well as I think old age or the stress of the job is getting to him; he's always in a bad mood these days. But the girls ask after you all the time."
"Ah, they would wouldn't they." Bodie smiled fondly, but inside it was cold comfort.
Ray fixed Bodie in his gaze and stared deeply into his blue eyes. "I'll see you before you go, won't I?"
"Yeah, I'll give you a ring."
When Ray had left Bodie closed the door and then leaned against it closing his eyes. 'How on earth did I manage to carry that off?' he wondered. 'I must be a bloody good actor for Ray not to have seen through my vain attempt to convince him I was looking forward to a job in Africa. Thought I might have given the game away when I asked about Cowley.' He didn't want to go, he never had. Every nerve and fibre in him screamed out for him to stay but he had no future here and no job. And he'd wanted to make it easier for Ray to bear if he thought he was excited about the trip.
His thoughts drifted back to Cowley. He had surprised himself by feeling hurt that the man hadn't asked after him, not a word. He'd always thought they shared a special relationship and he thought back to the occasional evenings when Cowley would invite him into his office at the end of the day. They'd sit in the comfortable armchairs at the far end of the room reading newspapers over a scotch and putting the world to rights. As far as Bodie was concerned Cowley could have been reading the shipping forecast; he would just lose himself in the sound of his voice and the warm sense of belonging. On rare occasions Ray would join them but he seemed to recognise that these were special moments for just Bodie and his boss. He had cherished those times. Bodie moved wearily away from the door and surveyed the myriad of boxes. Well, it was done, Ray had been told and there was nothing for it now but to move on into another phase of his life.
Doyle got up from the wooden bench to follow the path back through the flower beds to the car park. Recalling last nights meeting with Bodie had just confirmed his decision to hand in his notice, there was no point in prolonging it. He opened the door to his car and sat on the edge of the seat. His jacket lay across the passenger seat and he felt for the envelope containing his letter of resignation written last night when he had returned home. Doyle fingered the envelope feeling the folds of the single sheet of paper inside. Was he being too rash, as Bodie had warned? Was five or six weeks long enough for him to decide enough was enough? One thing Bodie had been right about; he did love the job. But was that because a large part of it was the fact he enjoyed working with Bodie? He'd nothing against Murphy but he was hardly Bodie. And anyway, it might not even be Murphy that Cowley had lined up to partner him. It could well be any one of several agents he wasn't too keen on. And shouldn't he wait until he looked into re- joining the police force?
Doyle sighed wondering just when it was that he became so indecisive. He pushed the envelope back inside the jacket and got out of the oppressive heat building up in the car. He spent what was left of the hour sharing lunch with Cowley's secretaries Betty and Ruth whose first question whenever they saw him was always to ask after Bodie but lately he himself seemed to have become the focus of their concern.
Doyle was just leaving the two women when Cowley caught sight of him.
"Oh, Doyle. Got a minute? I'd like a word."
Doyle dutifully followed the Scot into his office and was ushered into a chair.
"I think it's high time I teamed you up with another operative and, whilst I've not run this by Murphy yet I would like to place the two of you together. I wondered about your thoughts on that."
"Yeah, fine." There wasn't much enthusiasm in the voice of the man's response and Cowley leaned forward to view Doyle with some understanding and feeling the same slightly uncomfortable silence falling between the two of them again.
"You do understand, Doyle, why I had to let Bodie go, don't you?"
"Yes, Sir." Doyle replied but as he looked across the desk at his boss the injustice of his situation began to consume him.
"Actually, no I don't." he said suddenly. "You employed Bodie for his years of experience and for using his initiative and that means assessing a situation and acting on it. He has a loyalty and commitment to his work that is second to none and yes, he is a bit of a live wire but for all that he has always put the welfare of his colleagues first." Doyle felt his anger rising and he got to his feet. "In all the years I've worked with him I've never had a moments doubt about my safety and nor, I think you'll find, have any of the other lads. What happened to Murphy was unfortunate but what would have happened had Bodie not taken action when he did would have been far worse."
"You have to understand, Doyle, that it's not Bodie that is responsible for the lives of the men in this organisation. It's me." Cowley explained. "I'm responsible for each and every one of them, the buck stops with me."
Doyle turned to walk away. "At least his skills and abilities will be appreciated in Africa."
"Africa?"
"He's going back for good in a few days. And the worse thing is he doesn't want to go but feels he has no alternative. Oh yes, he gave me all the patter last night to convince me otherwise but I saw through it. I saw the truth in his eyes. He's heartbroken and miserable to have left C.I.5. It was good for him, I think he needed it. I know I needed him. I think you did too." Doyle strode out of the office.
As the door swung shut Cowley sank back in his seat with one word ringing in his ears. Africa. His operative was returning to Africa. No, make that his ex- operative. He didn't know why he felt so shocked and dismayed at this revelation ,after all Bodie was nothing to him now. And what had he expected the man to do? Well not go back there, that's for sure. Some kind of job in security he had presumed but no, on reflection, Bodie was a man of action. Bodie had been C.I.5 material and some of the best material at that. But, thought Cowley coldly, that was then and this is now. He's gone and Doyle would just have to accept it, and, he realised, so would he.
Glancing at the clock above the door Cowley realised his men would be assembled and awaiting instructions from him in the Conference Room. He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and hurried from the room with an unsettling irritation pricking at him. The low murmur of hushed conversation ceased as he entered and strode down to the front.
"Let's put yesterday's fiasco behind us and hope we've all learnt something from it." Cowley scanned the room briefly noting the absence of Doyle. "Right, Anson and Jax get down to Rawton Place and continue searching. Sharp and Meadows take Andrews and Ford with you and run down your contacts. Someone somewhere must know something about Novak's whereabouts. The rest of you carry on with your own enquiries."
As the room emptied it still struck Cowley as odd not to be issuing instructions to Bodie and Doyle. They had been so much a part of C.I.5. He still had Doyle but, without Bodie….
The Scot wandered back to his office still strangely unsettled by Doyle's news on Bodie. He had done the right thing, hadn't he; dismissing the agent or, rather, giving him the chance to resign first? He couldn't have his men taking it upon themselves to ignore his orders and Lord knows the man had been warned on several occasions in the past.
Cowley heard a soft knock on the door and looked up from his reverie to see Doyle in the doorway.
"Bodie was unique, a one off, special. I was privileged to have had the chance to work with him and with you too," Doyle said as he approached the desk. "For that I thank you but now I feel the time has come to move on. I will of course work a month's notice." He produced a white envelope and placed it on the desk. Without another word he turned and walked out of the room stunning Cowley into silence.
It was late. How late George Cowley didn't know. He had gone through the motions of his job like an automaton and was now only vaguely aware that the room was in darkness. He leaned forward to turn on the desk lamp and then opened the filing cabinet behind him extracting a thin blue folder. He read through the descriptive text of Bodie's report on the fire at Replex Products and the subsequent non fatal shooting of Murphy culminating in the death of Richard Crane a well known and much sought after villain. Cowley closed the file and turned off the lamp.
Bodie was fairly sure now that the buzzing noise he had initially thought was in his head wasn't. It was too loud and insistent and he swayed, mussy headed, from the bedroom to the front door of his flat.
"Who is it?" he called out dragging a hand sleepily through his hair.
"Mr. Cowley."
'Cowley? What the hell does he want and at this hour?' He opened the door pulling his dressing gown around him.
"Do you know what time it is?" Bodie leaned against the door squinting in the dim yellow light of the landing lamp.
"No." Cowley replied stone faced and truthful.
Suddenly Bodie felt his heart leap into his mouth. There could only be one reason why Cowley would be here at this unearthly hour.
"Doy-"
"No, no. Doyle's fine, though it is him in part that I've come about. Can I come in?"
Bodie closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself and then stood back to allow the man in.
"Are you alone?" Cowley asked, walking through to the lounge clutching the file.
"Well, I was just getting to know a rather tasty little redhead until you turned up and shattered my dream."
Cowley allowed himself the beginnings of a wry smile while Bodie stood wondering whether to offer his ex boss a drink. Surely it was far too late for a scotch even for him.
"So," said Cowley slowly as he settled into the sofa and placed the blue folder down beside him. "What are we going to do about this whole sorry incident?"
Completely baffled Bodie stared at the man through narrowed eyes as he sat down opposite him.
"Sir?"
"I've lost one good agent and now it seems I am to lose another."
"Doyle?" Bodie hazarded a guess.
"Aye."
"He said as much."
"Did he now?"
"I tried to put him off, he loves that job."
"I don't want to lose him." Cowley said firmly.
"That's up to Doyle." Bodie wondered again what Cowley was doing here.
"Aye." Cowley replied wistfully and then there was a moments silence before he cast an arm in the direction of the packing cases.
"I hear you're off to Africa."
"Yeah, day after tomorrow. Can't wait. It will be great to have a change of scene."
Cowley lay a hand on the folder for a moment and then picked it up.
"This made for some interesting reading, your report on Crane's death. Unusual, especially from you."
"When I started it it felt too…..clinical, too cold, just the bare facts. I needed you to know what it was really like for me, why I went in."
" Oh, I got the gist of that alright." There followed another lapse into silence and Bodie could almost feel some kind of internal struggle going on in the older man.
"Look, Sir," he began, trying to quell impatience. "If there's nothing else I really need to get back to bed. I've a lot to finalise tomorrow."
"I want you back." Cowley blurted out suddenly. The words were firm and direct and only now did Cowley stare Bodie squarely in the face. Surprised Bodie stared back as he digested the words.
"You want me back or you want me back to avoid losing Doyle?"
"Both. I never wanted to lose you in the first place but you left me no option."
"But you wait til now to come and see me."
"Damn it man, do you want your job back or not?" The late hour and the postion he had put himself in made Cowley snap.
"I've made plans, bought plane tickets and after tomorrow I have no flat."
"I'm sure we can come to some sort of financial compensation." the Scot said reluctantly.
"You really are desperate to have me back aren't you!" Bodie grinned.
"So do we have a deal?" Cowley got wearily to his feet.
Bodie paused for effect and then extended his hand. "Yes, Sir."
Cowley didn't take the agent's hand and moved away. "Oh, and if anyone asks you've been away undercover and Doyle knew about it but was asked to keep quiet."
Bodie nodded and when they reached the door Cowley pressed a finger to Bodie's chest.
"If there's a next time there will be no second chances. Things are going to change from now on. Be in the office for eight o'clock."
Bodie was left staring down the hallway disconcerted, watching the departing figure.
Bodie stood in the quiet of the empty restroom idly stirring a cup of coffee. He revelled in the deep sense of well being that being back was giving him. Arriving a good half hour early he'd spent five minutes chatting with Fred on Security at the main door before sauntering upstairs. Betty and Ruth hadn't arrived yet but he was looking forward to re aquainting himself with them. Now he drifted into the Conference Room with all its chairs still laid out for yesterdays meeting and stood looking at the photo's and plans pinned to the boards at the head of the room. He smiled at the pleasing sense of happiness at his return; soon he'd be a part of all this again. He couldn't remember when he'd last felt as happy. On hearing the door being pushed open Bodie turned to see Cowley standing in the doorway.
"Morning, Sir." He said brightly, sipping his coffee. "Just familiarising myself with this Novak character." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the photographs.
"Wait here." Cowley instructed tersely and left.
"Morning to you too." Bodie muttered but nothing could even dent his good mood.
Raymond Doyle turned off the engine of his car and, heavy hearted, stared up at the C.I.5 offices. There wouldn't be many more days of arriving with eager anticipation of what the day held in store, not that he had been arriving eagerly lately. He headed inside and met Cowley in the corridor.
"Doyle. Come and meet your partner."
"Murphy's back then? I didn't expect him til Monday, Sir."
His boss said nothing but led him along the hallway and into the Conference Room
"You have one minute to fill Doyle in and then I want you both in my office. We have work to do."
Doyle looked up and saw Bodie grinning back at him. He stared in utter disbelief and shock.
"I …..I don't understand. What are you doing here?"
"I'm back!"
"Back?"
"Well don't look so pleased! Seems our illustrious leader couldn't do without me!"
"But what about Africa?"
"What about it?! I'm staying. But listen, mate, all anyone needs to know is that I've been away working undercover. You knew but were sworn to secrecy, okay? Come on, we'd better catch up with Cowley."
Doyle nodded dumbly, still in a state of shock. Bodie lay an arm across Doyle's shoulder and steered him out of the room.
Doyle's watchful green eyes viewed Bodie with mounting concern. The days had melted seamlessly into weeks and dispite the hard relentless work both agents threw themselves into it with a renewed vigour, their relationship, Doyle thought, strengthened by the near miss of a permanent seperation. But now it began to slowly become apparent to him that the odd days when Bodie appeared unusually quiet were becoming more frequent. Of course, he's asked casually if things were okay but only got back the expected reply of 'yeah, fine'.
The longer he observed his partner the more Doyle felt his eyes drawn to Cowley who he now studied with equal thoughtfulness, so much so that he often lost the drift of the conversation when the three men were together. It seemed to Doyle that Cowley was holding Bodie on a very tight but invisible rein. He no longer entertained the agent's usual humorous quips and even his suggestions on a case they were working on were barely paid any attention. Doyle noted that Bodie's response to this was to keep quiet and accept the fact that his relationship with his boss was now very different from the one he'd previously enjoyed.
"Did you get that, Doyle?" Doyle suddenly realised Cowley was staring straight at him and that Bodie was getting to his feet.
"Eh? Yes, Sir. Be here at seven o'clock tomorrow." Doyle grasped at the last piece of conversation that had subconsciously entered his brain. Cowley looked at him dubiously and then dismissed them both.
"Fancy going for a pint? We could sit in the beer garden, great evening for it." Ray suggested as the two men left the cool of the C.I.5 offices for the car park.
"No thanks,mate. Think I'll get an early night." Bodie replied despondently. Ray drove the short distance to Bodie's flat and drew up outside to let him out but as he did so he turned of the engine and started to get out himself.
"What ya doing?" Bodie glanced back at him.
"Coming in for a cup of tea."
"I don't remember giving you an invitation."
"I didn't think I needed one." Ray bounded ahead of him leaving his partner frowning behind him.
Inside Ray filled the kettle and set about finding mugs and tea while Bodie looked on incredulously.
"Remind me again,who's flat is this?" He heard a low snigger from Ray and then, sighing, he threw himself onto the sofa. Stretching out the stiffness of weary muscles he let his mind drift aimlessly. Ray watched him for a few moments as he waited for the kettle to boil.
"What's going on with you and Cowley?" he asked.
"Nothin'"
Ray carried in two mugs of tea and, handing one to Bodie he sat down opposite him.
"After all we've been through together over the years you should know by now that you can trust me with anything."
Bodie gazed up at his partner with doleful eyes and regarded him for a moment before he ran a hand through his hair and took a sip of tea.
"He's wiped his hands of me." he said, his voice so quiet that Ray struggled to hear him. "I think I've lost him for good this time."
"Oh mate, you haven't lost him," Ray replied softly, and he was shocked to see the bright blue eyes that usually danced with fun and mischief were now suddenly sparkling with tears. "You know what Cowley's like. Just give him time and keep on the right side of him; he'll soon come round."
"No," Bodie shook his head. "He told me things were going to change. I thought he meant he was going to be watching me, you know,making sure I didn't step out of line. I didn't think he meant he was going to treat me…..well like, just another operative. Sometimes I feel he can barely bring himself to look at me."
"I think you're reading too much into it, mate. It couldn't have been easy for him to ask you back. It was like admitting he was wrong and if there's one thing George Cowley doesn't like to be it's wrong."
"I don't know, mate." Bodie shrugged doubtfully. "It's been weeks now. Perhaps I should have made a clean break of things when I had the chance and got out of this country."
"You never wanted to go back to Africa, and don't tell me you did because I never believed you for a second." Ray finished the last of his tea and set the mug down on the coffee table. " Look, like I said, just give the old man a bit more time. He'll soon come round. Sure you don't want to come out for a pint?"
"No, mate, but thanks."
"You gonna to be alright?"
"Of course I am. Like you said, I'm probably reading too much into it." Bodie forced a smile, embarrassed he'd shown too much of himself even to Ray.
Outside, sitting in his car, Ray sat for a few seconds responding to something deep within him and then he turned the car around sharply and headed back to the headquarters of C.I.5. Minutes later and he was standing in the open doorway of George Cowley's office.
"Doyle." Cowley looked up briefly but something in his manner told Ray that Cowley knew why he was here.
"I was just wondering, Sir," he began as he approached the desk. "When it is that you are going to stop punishing Bodie, because if you were hoping to upset him then I can confirm that you have."
There was just the briefest moment when Ray saw the older man hesitate but then continue to write. Ray pushed down his anger.
"I don't know what he's told you about his early life but he's not had anyone in it that he could look up to or was a guiding influence. Perhaps that's why he's always sought out institutions like the Army for their discipline and direction." Ray paused for a beat and then continued, aware that his words were being absorbed dispite all the evidence to the contrary. He softened his voice. "The thing is, Sir, you are now that discipline and direction and I know it might not seem like it at times but Bodie thinks the world of you and I think, deep down, that that feeling is reciprocated. You can't tell me that your're happy with all this bad feeling."
Ray moved slowly away from the desk wondering if he had made things worse for Bodie and now for himself.
"Doyle?"
Ray turned and looked at his boss.
"Are you going to be making a habit of coming in here telling me what you think?"
"Only when it involves the people I care for most in the world. That even includes you." Ray turned back and walked silently out of the room.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo000oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"That, gentlemen," declared George Cowley triumphantly, "was a good afternoon's work!" It had been a long time, it seemed, when he had had at last something to be proud of his men for. He now led Bodie Doyle, Mc Cabe and Lucas back up the steps of the C.I.5 building after a successful raid down at the docks.
"Especially you, Bodie! First class! You can all get yourselves off home, I have phone calls to make.
As McCabe and Lucas peeled off into the restroom Doyle and Bodie exchanged surprised glances.
"Did he just….." began Bodie, staring at the disappearing figure of their boss.
"He did. I told you you just had to keep on the right side of him. I have to admit though, you were pretty good out there today."
"Yeah, I was wasn't I?" Bodie agreed smugly, as Doyle enjoyed the first real smile he'd seen from his partner for ages.
"Fancy a cuppa before we go?" he suggested.
"Yeah, go on then."
After a good twenty minutes Doyle began to wonder where Bodie had got to having said he was going to the toilet. Stepping into the hallway he heard muffled voices coming from Cowley's office. He put his head cautiously around the door and was surprised to find the two men seated in armchairs at the far end of the room. Bodie sat with a tumbler of scotch in his hand a look of utter contentment on his face while Cowley had spread a newspaper across his knee.
"I made tea for you. What happened?" Doyle asked, feigning hurt.
"Got a better offer!" Bodie grinned raising his glass.
"Doyle! Come and join us." Cowley beckoned him in.
"Thank you, Sir, but I think I'll leave you two to it."
"Please, Ray." Bodie's voice was full of warmth and his eyes shone with obvious happiness.
"Go on then, I'll stay for one."
"Good man, pull up a chair! Cowley enthused as Bodie poured scotch into another glass and handed it to his partner.
When eventually he did make his excuses to leave Doyle stood at the door for a moment looking back at the two men. They were oblivious to his gaze; Cowley reading from the newspaper holding Bodie rapt with his soft voice that blended with the occasional laugh from his listener. Ray smiled warmly, committed the scene to memory and left for home.