Joyce came into Harry's office with the monthly report and she sat down and went through it diligently with the blonde officer. As they progressed she could see her friend wasn't feeling too well as she was very pale and kept taking the occasional deep breath as if to steady herself.
Harry was feeling dreadful, waves of nausea kept hitting her but she was determined to beat it and kept refocusing on the document in front of her. This was stupid, she was rarely ill and it annoyed her when her body let her down. I mean she took excellent care of herself not like Dempsey who seemed to live off junk food unless she was supervising his diet. An image of a hot dog with lashings of mustard hovered in her mental gaze and that did it.
'Excuse me,' Harry got up and swiftly left the room for the loo where she was promptly sick, she came back twenty minutes later and apologised. 'I'm sorry, I'm not feeling well, some kind of bug I expect.'
'You are looking a bit peaky,' Joyce sympathised. 'Why don't you go home and get some rest, I'm sure this can wait.'
The Inspector shook her head and went through the rest of the report; suggested a few other topics that needed to be covered and managed to get through the day. She'd seriously have to go to the doctor's if this continued.
Unfortunately, the following morning Harry didn't feel any better so she reluctantly phoned the office and took a day's sick leave. The last thing she needed was to be on her own with her rather gloomy thoughts but the feeling of exhaustion was overwhelming so there was little choice.
Dempsey was surprised when he went up to Spikings office and Harry wasn't there, they'd met up a couple of times since their engagement party so they were on speaking terms but they hadn't worked out yet how they were going to progress their relationship and the wedding day was inexorably creeping up on them. 'Where's the D.I.,' he asked the boss curious as to Harry's whereabouts.
'Sick leave,' Spikings answered tersely, 'not like Harry, she's never ill. The girl's been looking a bit peaky lately and she has been unusually quiet so I'm guessing you've upset her in some way.' The Superintendent glowered at his second in command. 'What is it this time, you haven't played away again have you?'
'No, I haven't but thank you for that,' Dempsey growled as he handed over a report the Chief Superintendent had requested.
'Well I've definitely noted a cooling down of relations between the two of you and as my wife has invested in your wedding I don't want any funny business. What exactly is the problem this time?' The senior officer felt bloody annoyed at the amount of times he'd needed to counsel his cuckoo of a protégé, matters of the heart weren't his forte, he wasn't a romantic man if his wife was any judge.
The American glowered as he didn't like being questioned on his personal business but then he shrugged, what the hell? 'Winfield Hall, the estate, the aunts, Gregory, prenup, the heir, guess it all ganged up and got to me. I couldn't see myself in that picture, you know.'
'Poor Harry, what did she ever do to deserve you? You can jump and catch a rope from a passing helicopter, you can defuse a bomb with no thought to your personal safety and yet you can't man up to the ancestral pile.' Spikings lit a cigarette and viewed his second in command dispassionately through the smoke. 'You're a clown, Dempsey and I rue the day I put you and Harry together.'
'She's out of my league boss,' his face darkened as he spoke the words, 'and that weekend it just came home to me that…
'That you were an idiot,' Spikings concluded irritably. 'That girl loves you, God knows why and I'll tell you one thing, if you give her up you'll regret it.' He took the report and went back into his office leaving the Yank to his own thoughts.
The boss was right, he was an idiot. He went back to his office and picked up the phone and dialled Harry's number, no answer. He'd phone later. An hour later, still no reply and he'd left a couple of messages on her machine, where the hell was she?
-oOo—
Harry made an appointment with the doctor for the next day and went back to bed with a cup of tea and some lightly buttered toast which stayed down and miraculously seemed to make her feel better. As she hadn't slept well due to her current difficulties it didn't take her long to drop into a deep sleep. She subliminally registered the phone ringing but it didn't rouse her as she really didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment especially James.
Later in the day she was drowsing on the couch whilst the television was blaring out the news when a sharp knock at the door heralded her former partner. She didn't get up as she didn't feel like entertaining visitors, and if it was Dempsey, he had a key.
The American erupted into the room in his usual fashion, 'what the hell is wrong with you? I've phoned half a dozen times, are you okay?' He got down on his haunches in front of her his gaze moving over her pale face and quivering lips. 'Spikings said you were ill.'
Dempsey's vibrant presence felt a little too much as she was still feeling off colour and his cologne was very strong; had he bathed in the stuff? 'Just a stomach upset, feeling queasy,' she added for more detail. 'She wasn't ready to reconcile just yet as he'd been so remote lately.
'What, you ate something bad; do you want me to get you something, there's a chemist around the corner?' He put his hand on her forehead, 'no fever so that's good.' She looked fragile and he was worried about her and felt a certain amount of guilt cos, he knew he'd upset her.
'No, I'm feeling a bit better, just tired. I'm sorry I worried you and as you can see I'm all right, I'll be back at work as soon as possible. I'm going to the doctors tomorrow and I'll ask for something to settle my stomach.' She sat up, feeling at a disadvantage lying down. 'I'll be fine.' She wished he'd go as she wasn't feeling up to another one of their stilted conversations about her responsibilities to Winfield Hall and its estate.
'I'm sorry about how I've been lately,' he sat back against the couch as he subliminally monitored the items on the news. 'It was a lot you know, thought I'd got my head around it and then wham it hit me. I couldn't imagine bringing my Mom to that place, she'd be overwhelmed.'
'Your mother would have been made very welcome,' Harry sighed heavily, she was exhausted and not up for this kind of conversation. 'Look James, I'm sorry but I'm rather tired, do you think you could go. I'm not up to hearing a repeat of how unattractive a proposition I am with Winfield Hall swinging round my neck, thank you very much.'
Dempsey turned to face her looking awkward, he got up and sat next to her on the couch taking hold of her fingers and playing with them. 'I didn't come to tell you that. I came to tell you I've been an idiot or a clown, both if you listen to Spikings, I'm sorry Harry, you didn't deserve that.'
Harry freed her hand, she'd been through hell since the ill-fated engagement party and wasn't willing to kiss and make up. 'You're becoming an expert at telling me what I don't deserve, James. And for once I agree, I don't deserve you, I have never deserved you and I never will. There you go, are you happy now?' She was being irritable because she was feeling ill and she wasn't coping very well; but even so her uncharacteristic burst of bad temper surprised her.
It wasn't like Harry to be unpleasant when he made a conciliatory gesture she'd usually melt like a snow cone in the sun. Dempsey got up and looked down at her his eyes had that bruised look she remembered from her outburst at the Natural History Museum.
'Don't look at me like that James, just remember whom rejected whom?' She hated it when he looked hurt and she felt immediately sorry and not sorry at the same time.
'Okay,' he shrugged, 'came here to make it up but you obviously don't want that so I'll go.' He walked to the door and then turned to look at her. 'If you change your mind you know where to find me. Balls in your court Harry,' he went out and closed the door very quietly which wasn't at all like him.
-oOo—
It was a very glum Harriet Makepeace that attended her doctor's appointment the next morning. She felt physically weak after a bout of retching prior to leaving her home and she felt mentally anguished about the way she'd handled the last meeting with her ex-partner.
She leafed through a glossy magazine in the pleasant, private waiting room but kept seeing Dempsey's hurt expression and that made her feel rather tearful which wasn't at all like her. In fact, she felt like bawling her eyes out and felt it might do her a lot of good although obviously that would show weakness.
The next half an hour with the doctor and the subsequent diagnosis shocked her to her core and she ordered a taxi for the journey home feeling that driving while distracted was a bad idea. Isobel, the clinic's receptionist said she'd arrange for Lady Harriet's car to be delivered back to her and Harry handed over the keys.
When she reached the sanctuary of her home she pondered the information she'd been given and followed the dietary advice which made her feel a lot better physically, at least. She took a shower and looked at her pale, golden body in the mirror, she'd definitely lost weight over the last few weeks that was only too evident.
Her mind moved to her 'Yank' and his last comment to her, 'the balls in your court Harry,' and she gave a wry grimace at her own reflection. The ball was most definitely in her court and to use an American expression, which felt particularly apt under the circumstances, she was about to knock it out of the park.
-oOo-
Harry went to see Freddie at the weekend. She'd avoided James for the rest of the week which was difficult as they were in a lot of meetings together and she could see people were wondering what was going on. Joyce had tried to get to the bottom of it all but had been stonewalled by both parties.
The blonde was welcomed by her father with open arms and ended up sobbing on his chest as he tried but failed to make head or tails out of what was going on. All he knew was his daughter was upset and it must be something to do with that blasted Yank. He calmed her down and tried to get her to eat some soup as she was looking very fragile and then she went off to her room with him none the wiser as to what the problem may be.
Dempsey was at home drinking coffee and reading the newspaper when the phone rang and he got a rather snippy Lord Winfield on the line. 'Hello sir,' he greeted the older man.
'My daughter is in tears what on earth is going on?' Freddie got straight to the point, 'she doesn't appear to be wearing her engagement ring, have you split up? Is the wedding off?'
The American was rather taken aback, 'I'm not quite sure where we are. She hasn't spoken to me all week, I tried to see her but she blew me off.' He was still feeling bad about that so the rejection had rankled.
'Well I suggest you get yourself down here and sort it out. The girl is beside herself which would be a strange reaction if she wanted to knock you into the long grass.'
Dempsey had no idea what that metaphor meant but it was evident that Lord Winfield expected him to present himself at the Hall. It was weird of Harry to show her pain because she didn't do that so he was worried about her. It occurred to him that he'd been a crap boyfriend over the past few weeks so self-absorbed in his own misgivings which weren't about Harry when you came down to it. He was mad at himself, Spiking was right he was a damned clown.