Next day – Thames embankment – 1.04 pm:

Jane Townsend sat straight-backed on an empty bench beside the Thames embankment. She stared ahead of her, the familiar shape of the Houses of Parliament barely registering within her conscious mind. In retrospect, her words to Harry when she'd rung him - `Harry, we need to talk about Graham, and this time you need to become involved' – had been a little confrontational. She and Harry only ever contacted one another when there was an emergency, and mostly that emergency involved Graham and his apparent inability to become a functioning member of the human race. She allowed her mind to wander to the very few face-to-face encounters they had had during the couple of decades since their marriage had ended. It had only been a good marriage for maybe six months, and even then, sex had been the glue which had held them together. Sex with Harry had been worth the price of a few years of loneliness, and then after Graham's birth, her years spent sinking into a deep depression.

Well …... almost.

The truth was that she and Harry had never been all that compatible personality-wise. He was private and intense, while she had once been open and sociable. He would explode in an instant, while she never let the small things bother her. He was a risk-taker, while she soon learned that she preferred men who could provide her with safety and stability. For her, the crunch had come when Harry had not made it to Graham's third birthday party, when she had invited most of the children who lived in their street, along with their parents. She had felt humiliated, having to explain that her husband should be there any minute - but he never turned up. Still …... that was all water under the bridge, and Jane was happy with Philip …... except for one small thing, which had lately become a contentious issue between them, and she needed Philip in her life more than she needed to rescue her son from any further disasters of his own making.

Sensing someone watching her, Jane looked to her left, and saw a woman standing on the pavement, staring at her. The stillness in the woman's body belied the mild panic she could read in the younger woman's eyes. Jane's timing had been perfect. Ruth was standing only a few yards away, and Jane had plenty of room on the bench next to her. She slid over, and patted her hand on the seat beside her, an invitation for Ruth to sit down.

On fine days such as this, Ruth liked to eat outside, and dating back to her earliest days working on the Grid, one of her favourite spots had always been the Thames embankment. From her vantage point on a bench seat, she could observe people going about their day – some in a hurry, while others ambled. She never tired of people-watching. She liked to imagine the private lives of the people as she watched them – are that couple married, or are they lovers; is that woman a nanny, or the mother of those two small children; is that young man angry with the person on the other end of his mobile phone, or is he brokering a deal? Over the years, she and Harry had often met there, a place in the open air to discuss whatever was on their minds, or alternatively, to just sit in the quiet company of the other. At least the woman with whom Harry had been so familiar hadn't chosen the bench which she and Harry had almost always chosen. Whatever this woman was to Harry (and Ruth already had a fair idea), she had not been privy to the details of her own relationship with Harry.

Who was she kidding? Did she and Harry still share a relationship? George's death had floored Ruth, and in the months since she had returned to work at Thames House she had kept Harry at a distance. She'd wanted to blame him for George's horrific murder. She'd wanted to hold him fully responsible for the loss of a good and innocent man. As the days had passed, and turned into weeks, and now the weeks had become months, Ruth knew that she could no longer blame Harry for the events which had been orchestrated by Amish Mani. Over the past few weeks, her thoughts towards Harry had softened, and she'd again begun to see him as the gentle and decent man she had left behind when she'd chosen to go into exile. Harry always meant well, and he sometimes had to form decisions where no clear path of action existed.

Warily, Ruth approached the middle-aged woman who clearly knew Harry very well. The only way to solve the mystery of this woman's identity was to accept her invitation to join her, so very slowly and cautiously, Ruth approached her and sat down next to her. Just to maintain distance, Ruth placed her sandwich on the bench between them. When she looked up, it was to find that the woman was holding out her hand for Ruth to shake.

"I'm Jane Townsend," the woman said. "I'm Harry's ex-wife, and I need to qualify that statement by adding that I am his very ex-wife. All we still have in common are our two children. I need you to know there is nothing else between us ….. nothing at all."

Ruth stared at the hand being offered. After mentioning her name, Ruth had barely registered the remaining words Harry's ex-wife had spoken when introducing herself. Dumbly, she shook Jane's hand, her eyes never leaving their joined hands. This is so surreal, she thought. "I'm Ruth Evershed," she added quietly. "I'm Harry's senior intelligence analyst."

"It's good to meet you at last, Ruth."

"But we met only yesterday."

"I mean meet properly, woman to woman."

Ruth at last lifted her eyes to meet Jane's and nodded. Jane had very light grey eyes, and much like Harry, her eye contact was direct. She had no reason at all to dislike Jane, so she decided she should keep an open mind. Ruth allowed herself a small smile as they eyed each other.

"How about you eat your lunch while I talk?" Jane added.

"Talk? What about?"

When Jane laughed lightly, Ruth looked up from her chicken salad sandwich in surprise. What did I say that was so bloody funny?

"There is a person we have in common, Ruth. I can call you Ruth, can't I?" When Ruth nodded, her mouth full of sandwich, Jane continued. "And you must call me Jane. We have Harry in common."

"I don't have Harry anywhere."

"Maybe you should. You know …... and pardon my familiarity this early in our acquaintance ….. but Harry used to be very good …. if you know what I mean."

Ruth did know what she meant, but decided to ignore the comment. What Harry was like in bed was none of her business, and nor was it any longer Jane's business. "I don't think we should be discussing Harry ….. like this," she managed to say, looking down in an effort to break eye contact with Jane, but chiefly to get her to stop babbling about what Harry was like in bed. Ruth had already surmised that Harry would be rather good between the sheets, but she didn't need to hear that qualified by someone who had actually slept with him.

"Alright. We'll not discuss Harry, but you surely must realise that you have considerable influence over him."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"I beg to differ."

What followed was a silence of over a minute, during which Ruth ate her sandwich, and Jane stared across the Thames, wondering what she should say next, and how was it this woman and Harry managed to communicate at all if neither of them liked to speak.

"You know," Jane said at last, "you're nothing at all like I expected."

"Why should you expect anything?" Ruth replied. "Harry and I are just colleagues."

"That's something similar to what he said, but my daughter – Catherine – told me how terribly low Harry was while you were away …... in exile, was it?" When Ruth said nothing, she kept going. She'd have to reply to her eventually, even if it was just to tell her to be quiet. "I've been curious about you ever since. It would have to take someone special to upset Harry like that …... at least, the Harry I used to know. I've had my own mental image of you, and …... I have to say, you're nothing at all like I imagined."

"You imagined someone beautiful ….. or glamorous."

Jane looked across at Ruth in surprise, but Ruth was busily examining her sandwich. "No, as it turns out. During our marriage he had affairs …." and Ruth darted her a surprised look at her turn in conversation. "Oh, I knew about his other women. He thought he was discreet, but he'd come home smelling of someone else's perfume, and I knew what he'd been up to. I'm sure he's no longer like that, so you shouldn't worry."

"I don't."

"Good. No, it's just that I knew many of the women Harry slept with, and all of them were beautiful, and he grew tired of each of them rather quickly. The only woman capable of holding his attention for as long as you have would have to have some extraordinary qualities, and I sense this in you, Ruth. Harry has always needed someone who is his intellectual equal, and I can see you are that. What I hadn't expected was that you'd also be so much younger than he, as well as attractive."

Well …... Ruth hadn't expected that. She'd been chewing her sandwich furiously, until it was almost mush in her mouth, and then this ex-wife of Harry's had come out with that little gem. Ruth had been used to being called plain …. or quite-pretty-in-your-own-way …... or (on many occasions) unique, whatever the hell that meant. Jane Townsend had just called her intelligent ….. Harry's intellectual equal …. and attractive. The reference to her age was hardly news. Surprisingly, the words from this unusually forthright woman had warmed Ruth from the inside. Despite her intention to remain unmoved, she felt herself smiling.

"You didn't expect that, did you?" Jane asked, her voice softer, kinder, more intimate.

Bloody woman should be a spy, Ruth thought. She'd have the terrorists quivering before her, begging her to let them lick her feet. "No …. I didn't. Your observations are …... interesting." Ruth surprised herself by looking up into Jane's eyes, and she knew that her own eyes conveyed her new-found respect for Harry's ex-wife.

"I just happen to think that you and Harry might be rather good together. Added to that, you're in the security business, and that's an important part of understanding how the man ticks. I believe you have a rather thorough understanding of the man Harry is."

Ruth almost laughed aloud. She was playing matchmaker. The cheek of the woman! "Why does it matter to you whether Harry is partnered or not? Most ex-wives would rather see their exes dead, not happy."

"Very astute, Ruth. I do have my reasons." Jane waited while a particularly noisy group of men in suits walked past, arguing amongst themselves, while a couple of them also talked loudly on their mobile phones. "Tossers!" Jane said quietly, before again turning towards Ruth. "I didn't meet you today for my own benefit, or for yours, and certainly not for Harry's. I stopped loving Harry over twenty years ago, but I love my children, and even though they're adults, there are times when they need their father. Harry needs to spend some time with his son, and he's more likely to do that if he's happy ….. and I think you make him happy."

Jane took a quick look at her companion, who appeared to be unmoved by her observations.

"If Harry is miserable when you're away, it's reasonable to believe that he'll be happy when you're close to him." She smiled at Ruth, as the younger woman suddenly saw through the whole accidental meeting by the Thames. "Harry always called me a devious bitch, and he's right. I am. I hope you don't mind, Ruth."

"I can hardly judge you for wanting the best for your children," Ruth replied, still surprised by the strange conversation she was having with this woman, almost the last person in the world she'd expected to like.

"Everything you have said to me since you sat down has shown me how much you care for Harry, and everything he said to me yesterday reflected to me his deep regard for you, and his accompanying desire to protect you. Don't throw that away. It's a rare thing. Harry only ever protects that which is precious to him." Jane turned and gathered together her shoulder bag, and leather gloves. "I'll leave you in peace, Ruth. I've enjoyed talking with you. You're different enough from me to be very good for Harry." Jane turned her body on the bench to face Ruth. "If he ever treats you badly, just give me a call."

With that, Jane smiled at Ruth, and then stood and walked off along the embankment. Ruth watched her back as she walked away. She stayed on the bench for another few minutes, thinking about the previous half hour. What a strange day it was turning out to be.

Ruth then decided it was time she and Harry talked.