Summer 2006
In the ten days since Ruth crushed Harry's very heart and soul, work had thankfully taken most of his attention. Section D had been tasked with overseeing the Addressing Africa Summit at the Havensworth Hotel. Harry had been spending hours and hours with the Foreign Secretary. Malcolm was working on the surveillance, rolling out his magnificent Diaspora program which would track the location and the calls on every mobile phone at the summit. Adam and Ros and Zaf would be undercover at the event; Ros and Zaf were installed at the hotel a few days early while Adam and Harry himself were working closely with the politicians. Ruth and Jo were working on prepping the African presidents, writing speeches and doing background research for everything they'd need in order to get the agreement signed.
Harry remained distracted until the day he arrived up in Berkshire with Adam. "Everyone ready?"
"Yep. Ros is playing happy hostess, Zaf is getting in with the waitstaff," Adam informed him.
"And Ruth?"
"Ruth's on the Grid with Jo and Malcolm."
Harry frowned. "She should be here. We'll need someone monitoring from the hotel."
"I thought so, too, but Ruth requested to stay back."
"Overrule her," Harry ordered.
Adam got on the phone and called back to Thames House to get Ruth up to the hotel as soon as possible.
Harry told himself that they truly did need her there. And of course they did. Everything always went better when Ruth was closely involved. But with all this Havensworth business, Harry had a feeling that they'd perhaps have a moment away from work, away from the stress of the Grid, to talk. She'd barely given him a reason why she couldn't see him and now she was avoiding him. She'd asked not to go to Havensworth. Perhaps it was a bit of a powerplay and manipulation to order her to come on this operation, but Harry was in a certain position that allowed him to put circumstances in his own favor.
The summit had just begun when Malcolm informed Harry that Ruth was entering the hotel. He walked out to greet her. She was laden down with bags and practically strangling herself in her own scarf.
"Hello," he greeted, trying as best he could to be gentle and warm, hoping to see her smile at him if he were lucky. "I'm glad you're here. We'll need your organizational skills on this operation." Harry reached into his pocket to pull out the security badge for her. "I've got your pass."
She looked a bit harried. Obviously displeased by the inconvenience of having to travel all that way. She was avoiding eye contact as she took the badge from him. No luck of a smile. "Ah, do I need to organize a room?"
"No, it's all arranged," he informed her. "Your room."
The way Ruth looked up at him in that moment, with a distant sparkle of affection mixed with utter terror was not one he particularly appreciated. Made him feel as though yes, she did recall sharing her room with him once and wasn't particularly keen to repeat it.
"It's your own room," Harry clarified, soldiering on as unaffected as he could manage as his stomach twisted in knots being so physically close to her.
Ruth averted her gaze again. "Of course. Right."
Harry's mobile started ringing, so he fished it out of his pocket, trying to suppress the feeling of desperation he felt at the grief over their awkward interaction. He and Ruth hadn't ever been like this. It had never been this difficult, they'd never had this barrier of horrible tension between them, not like this. "I've got to take this," he said, seeing who the caller was. Not a conversation he was looking forward to. "Do you want to…"
"Sure." Ruth nodded and made her way to her room to set up, and Harry walked in the opposite direction to see what fresh hell awaited him on this call from the DG.
Of course, it was worse than he'd imagined. Harry immediately got off the phone and sent a message for Adam to meet him on the grounds where they could speak privately. They had far too much to be concerned with at this summit, between the international implications and Harry's own muddied feelings that he'd foolishly brought to the surface by insisting Ruth join them at the hotel. That conversation in the lobby was the first time they'd spoken without other present in ten days. Harry was rudely reminded of that fact as he walked outside to meet Adam. He needed to confide in his Section Chief about this, if nothing else. One less burden for him to carry alone.
"Adam, I've just had a call with the DG about Ros's father," Harry said, seeing Adam waiting under a large tree by the river. "My request for leniency's been turned down. They've decided to make an example of him."
"How many?" Adam asked, cutting to the chase.
"Twenty. Minimum," Harry replied regretfully.
"He'll be over eighty when he gets out. She'll be devastated.
"Keep it to yourself," Harry advised. "We need her focused on this operation."
Adam's mobile rang, interrupting them. Back to work. Harry followed behind as they both headed back to the hotel. Adam had matters well in hand, and he'd brief Harry after giving his orders. Harry, on the other hand, was already regretting telling Adam about the fate of Sir Jocelyn Myers. It wasn't something Adam needed to know, particularly if they both had to keep it from Ros for the duration of the operation. Obviously Harry knew he'd made the right decision keeping it from her, but perhaps he should have kept it to himself.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry heard Ruth's voice of reason, that unfailing moral compass, say, "All you've done is gossip, and that solves nothing." Perhaps that wasn't what Ruth would have said. He had thought he'd known her rather well, up until ten days ago. But now he wasn't so sure. He wanted to seek her counsel on this and all things, knowing that her clever mind would hone in on the precise piece that was missing, cut directly to the heart of the issue. He couldn't go running to her, of course, as much as he might have wanted to. They all had a job to do, and they'd bloody do it.