'We've got less than an hour and I haven't even packed yet, let alone had a shower or changed,' is pretty obvious from where Ruth is standing in his hallway, looking at Harry who is every inch someone who has spent the last couple of hours in mental turmoil. An image that she knows had mirrored her own when she'd watched him smiling at Miss perfect body. At the same time as Harry is wondering by the expression on her face and the lack of makeup, if she's been crying.
Which means that his attempt to apologise and hers to confront him by saying that had he asked her, rather than assume that she wouldn't have been interested, she would have said yes to going to Geneva with him. That and ask him how he could have possibly said that they'd reached the end of the line when it came to working together? Are left hanging in the air. Along with all the other possibilities which are tucked in a filing cabinet marked tomorrow is always another day.
Although whether it's the expression on her face which changes to suggest that she's never seen him looking like something that the cat's dragged in, or that the clock is edging ever nearer to the moment when they'll have to leave, he finally says, 'the kitchens through there if you'd like to make yourself a cup of tea,' before turning for the stairs. The privacy of his bedroom, allowing him to smile. Because apart from knowing that he'll have his work cut out to repair want he'd thought was lost to him, the fact that she's here is, well it's just wonderful.
Having showered and padded across the landing with a towel wrapped around his waist, he tips the contents of his half-packed suitcase onto the bed, rejecting some of the items as he does so. Before repacking it with a new sense of enthusiasm. If not with a view to enjoying the first week, when the talks he knows will go on ad nauseum. But with an eye on the second and what should be, when all the main players have gone home and he's left with an assorted bunch of Europeans, far less formal. In a location he sees as romantic and certainly with a reduction in the delegates, will by tea time, leave him free to do whatever he likes or in this case craves. Spending time with and talking to Ruth, without the pressures that life on the grid always throws up. Anything more than that he's not banking on until he's determined how the land lies.
Whilst Harry has been selecting shirts which he hopes will allow her to see him in a different light and getting dressed, Ruth having made herself a cup of tea, is wondering if she should make him a cup of coffee? Being in Harry's immaculately tidy kitchen in itself feels surreal, but she can only imagine what the rest of the house might look like. Unlike hers which she now remembers he's seen. Well at least the downstairs which sort of evens thing up. The night when Gary Hicks had turned up. How when she'd called him, he'd asked her if she was alright? When she said yes, how he'd said, that's good. Then when she'd asked him if he could come over, his hesitant reply had been to yours? Implying that he thought she was ringing him for an altogether reason. And as if that hadn't been worthy of headlines that read just get on with it why don't you, on the date they'd talked in riddles rather than getting to the point. The two of them so wretchedly tongue tied that they hadn't been able to say what they were really thinking and still are.
She's so caught up in her memories and the thought that they really must get past this ridiculous hesitancy, that she has no idea that he's somehow managed to come downstairs without her hearing him, until he says, 'all packed and ready to go.'
But it isn't the statement that throws her, or that he's taken less than half an hour to get ready. It's that the usual shirt, tie and suit, have been replaced by the same trousers and shirt that he'd worn on that night. Obvious maybe, but it's enough for her to forgive him. Completely comes with the proviso that sometime between now and bedtime, the thought of which makes her wonder how the rooms in the hotel will have been arranged and how close to each other they'll be, that he doesn't abandon her in favour of mixing with people who are way above her capability of conversing with.
A thought which she doesn't voice until the taxi pulls up in front of London City Airport and the driver opens the door and loads their luggage onto a trolley. Her question answered when James Allan the Foreign Secretary spots them and marches across the concourse with his Personal Private Secretary in tow. A forty something sharp faced man who introduces himself as Martin. Both of whom Harry smiles at. In a way she recognises as meaning will you find someone else to pester, I've got better things to do with my time.
Harry for his part is determined that he and Ruth are not going to talk shop until they need to, so once the formal introductions have been made, he guides her through to where their fellow passengers who are booked on Swiss Air flight 2196 are assembling. That Ruth hadn't eaten anything since lunchtime was born out by her stomach rumbling in the taxi. Which somehow gives him the courage to press his hand gently against her back and guide her towards the least crowded eatery and a table.
Whatever Harry's thinking, she has no idea. But as she watches him standing in the queue, she can't get past the thought that she wishes they were just an ordinary couple going on holiday. Her thoughts once again turning to Malcolm and what he'd said and how she'd be feeling now, had she been sitting at home.
.
The decent into Geneva airport if you're sitting in a window seat which Ruth is and with Harry next to her, is of the lake and the fountain which at all times of the day and night have a draw of unimaginable proportions. Unlike the conversation which by and large has been instigated by Ruth, to the extent that Harry now feels encouraged enough to lean even closer that he has been throughout the flight. At one point when she'd closed her eyes, he'd dared to look at her unashamedly until he'd been interrupted by the steward asking if he'd like something to drink. Which is why he now makes the decision to hold back from disembarking, so that by the time they go through passport control and the luggage pick up area, the Foreign Secretary and his entourage are disappearing in the distance. Allowing him to summon a taxi of their own for the drive to the hotel.
One of several which are dotted around the city and as far back as a year ago, had been booked to hold what will be eight delegations. That the Foreign Office had opted for small and far from opulent when it comes to the British contingent, takes a good deal of the stress away from Ruth, both when they are walking across the foyer and when they're booking in. A feeling that continues when they reach the second floor and she discovers that their rooms are opposite each other at the far end of a reasonably long corridor. Even Harry, in his current mood of attempted reconciliation she tells herself, wouldn't have been presumptuous enough to have organised this.
Only to hear him say, 'Ruth I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner tonight. Somewhere other than in the dining room here?'
.
No let me,' insists Adam, when he walks over to where 'Malcolm is standing at the bar in the George for their prearranged core staff meeting. With Zaf and Jo already sitting at a table deep in conversation. The temporary hierarchy for the two weeks that Harry and Ruth will be away having been settled over the course of the afternoon by the witch who has eyes in the back of her head. Him stepping up and with Ros Myers coming over from six to make up the numbers. Complete with a reputation that when Malcolm had looked her up, means that he hopes she'll find him insignificant enough to leave alone.
In contrast to Adam who he's always found approachable and ready to listen and is why he feels able to ask, 'why is Harry's even going on this trip?'
'Political rebuilding on Allan's part. Let's just say that his credit rating amongst his peers across Europe isn't as good as he'd like it to be. Take Harry Pearce with you as political arm candy and they'll see you in a whole new light.'
It has nothing to do with security then?'
'Not as far as I'm aware. I'm assuming that the Swiss and the French are taking care of that. Besides you only have to look at the Headquarters of the United Nations to know that it's as safe as the Bank of England. Not that I wouldn't have given an arm and a leg for us to have been invited.'
'And the second week?'
'Providing Ruth has taken board what you said. Which given that she's not here, suggests that she has. And our esteemed leader doesn't put his foot in it again, I'd like to think that we'll have one less thing to worry about when they come home.'
'So do I Adam and I know it's not my place to say so. But you do know that they're in love don't you. That this isn't some sordid affair that's going to peter out. And because of that, that we'll need to ensure that we as their closest colleagues place a ring of steel around them in the early days. With that in mind, I want you to promise me that you'll stamp on any gossip if it kicks off again.'
'Gossip?' says a voice from behind them. Before adding, 'mine's a pint.'
'Ros glad you could join us, this is Malcolm,' say's Adam.