Let's dance to the music.
I have been asked to re-post my stories.
In the course of his life Harry Pearce had been to lots of places, many of them he'd never expected or wanted to be. He'd endured the hell of Northern Ireland, losing friends and colleagues, some in circumstances that if he dwelt on them for long would have surely made him lose his mind. From there he had plunged headlong into the incestuous, depraved world of West and East Berlin where he had learnt the trade of murder, lies and double dealing that had made him the man he was today.
The man that he had ultimately come to despise, but none the less the man who had become the colossus of the British Security Services. The man who was feared but given grudging respect even by his bitterest enemies. The man who had no perceivable weaknesses.
And now because of circumstances that he had failed to control he found himself in a place that he had hoped, even dreamt he might be one day. Outside the window the Eiffel Tower lit up the night sky. The stars behind it shone brightly in heavens of deepest blue. It was an impressive view, the kind that was featured on postcards, the kind of view that stayed with you forever. But as he looked across the room at the woman whose dark hair was spread across the pillow he knew that this would be the picture that he would recall as he lay dying. Sleeping soundly she shifted slightly as he slid back into the bed besides her resting her head against his naked chest. Sleep lent her features a serenity and stillness that was rarely present in her everyday life, for she was a woman of passion, a woman of ideas whose whole life was bound up in uncovering the hidden and the clandestine. Hers was a mind that very rarely found repose but right now as he wove his fingers through her hair she sighed and snuggled in closer to him. The smile on her face indicated pleasant dreams, dreams he hoped were about him.
He'd not planned for this to happen. In fact all the plans that he'd made were to prevent this. When he'd learnt Section d were expected to accompany the Home Secretary to Paris to discuss mutual concerns regarding the ongoing situation with refugees in Calais and perceived threats to the Channel Tunnel he had refused point blank. The Home Secretary had made it clear that refusing was not an option but had allowed Harry to pick and choose who he took with him. It was then Harry realised that he had to make a decision that would upset one member of his team a great deal.
He had called them all into the meeting room and explained the circumstances. Explained that because the Foreign Secretary would also be attending the Home Secretary had decided that he must have a full entourage with him. As he had said
"Bloody politicians, always needing their egos massaging!"
He'd gone on to explain who he would be taking with him and what their roles would be. They had all looked expectantly at him waiting for him to tell Ruth what she would be doing. They were all aware that Harry and Ruth worked well together, that Ruth was special, that Ruth was the one person that Harry seemed to trust implicitly. He'd then dropped the bombshell telling them that Ruth would be staying on the Grid where he felt she would be more use. The shocked faces that looked back at him showed that they were all confused by his decision and he quickly dismissed them before they could voice any concerns or questions.
Along with the others Ruth had stood and gathered her papers together her face a blank. As she reached the door he had asked her to remain as he wanted to talk to her
"I'm sorry to spring that on you Ruth. I should have had the decency to talk to you before the others. But I do think that you will be better employed here."
"Forget it Harry" she'd replied "You don't have to explain anything to me. As you say best if someone is left to hold the fort. And who in their right mind would want to go on a trip to Paris? Anything else Harry because I'm really up to my neck in it at the moment. I swear if Six try and palm any more work on us I'll scream."
And with that she was out of the door and back at her desk. Over the next few days he began to feel more and more uncomfortable as the girls going on the trip began to talk non stop about the shopping, the sight seeing and the fun they intended to have. Even the boys seemed to be swept up in the general jollity that pervaded the Grid. On a couple of occasions he had very nearly called them all together and told them he'd changed his mind and that Ruth would be coming with them. But he knew that he couldn't do that. Ruth in Paris with him was an explosive mixture. It was the stuff of dreams. Dreams of an erotic and sensual nature. Dreams that pursued him most nights. Dreams that he longed to act upon. But self control and self restraint. His enemies were always looking for weaknesses that they could use against him and any indication that he cared for Ruth Evershed would put her in danger.