Malcolm, having just killed the phone alert from Ros, was now sitting with his finger hovering over the mobile dedicated to exclusive communications with Harry, preparing to activate the first stage of the agreed plan to sort out Harry and Ruth. In tandem with that anticipated action he had also made one very definite private resolution. As soon as this operation was wrapped up, correction both operations wrapped up, he was going to insist on taking some of his long postponed leave. After the covert undercover machinations to remove Giles Bamford Smythe from the service – and ultimately from the land of the living courtesy of Ilya Gavrick – events then subsequently followed by three months of Harry and Ruth's semi polite snarling at one another, now topped off by the plot to hobble uncle running in tandem with more immediate scheme billed to go live in about thirty seconds, his nerves needed a sabbatical. Quite how Harry would react if he rumbled that this was one plot he was the subject of rather than the instigator… well Malcolm really didn't want to be nearby when that particular ordure hit the fan. Whatever second thoughts he was indulging in had hatched too late to allow time to attempt instilling sanity into the team and since, without Malcolm's essential contribution the scheme would fail, he'd be in the firing line of recriminations, regardless of success, failure or cancellation.

While not emboldened by this reflection it was sufficient to chivvy him down the pathway of probable doom. Stabbing the required button on the phone when Harry picked up Malcolm, damning himself irrevocably, made his request, "Harry I'm sorry but Aaisha has insisted on some fresh air and heading with Zoe towards the summerhouse. We do need to monitor this in case of problems." A brief rumble from Harry made him press on, "Unfortunately Ruth is chaperoning Zahra on another visit of condolence to Ali while Danny and Adam on engaged on duties in the hotel. I need to perform an urgent check a camera near uncle's suite and … thanks …yes I'll set you up." Killing the call with the thought that the last bit really was true.

About five minutes later when Harry, in a less than sweet mood, barged through the door it was to the sight of a screen focused on the summerhouse door and another showing the wavering line of a sound file. A questioning look allowed Malcolm to explain. "The door is eyes only, you can see who goes inside after which the conversation can be monitored." Almost on cue Aaisha, dressed in clothing that even her twilight silhouette revealed as a hotel uniform and Zoe, similarly attired, could be seen wandering across the grassy area that bordered the lake, pausing for a couple of minutes to watch something, probably a passing water fowl, before pausing by the summerhouse door for a discussion prior to making their way inside. This being the cue for Malcolm to advise Harry, "If you feel the need to record anything just press that button."

Harry was grumbling, "Why risk this outing?"

Malcolm had his answer pat. "I know but Aaisha has been cooped up all day and uncle is in a meeting with his cohorts so its reasonably safe. I've asked to Ros to join them and Jed is also within shooting range."

Before Harry could voice any further objections or query the absence of Faizan as his sister's escort, Malcolm scarpered, just hoping that all went according to plan.

Harry with a sigh that could have been heard back in Thames House - Malcolm's call had just interrupted his pouring of an extra large therapeutic whisky- donned the headphones and prepared to listen into what he trusted would not be an embarrassing conversation regarding the euphemistically titled women's problems. His mind straying almost inevitably to his own particular woman problem as he absorbed the background sound of the summer house door closing followed by a rustling which suggested the two women were settling into the cushioned seats.

The conversation for the next few minutes was enough to lull any man to sleep, with twittering about jewellery and fashion houses. The sole effect it had on Harry being to make him regret more than ever his forsaken whisky, while simultaneously considering that at least his single status meant his bank account was free from the depredations of a trophy wife. Not that he could ever envisage Ruth, while undoubtedly desirable, as a habitue of designer shops. His ungovernable thoughts straying to the sight of her in the very smart clothes she'd been coaxed into for the duration of the operation. He was startled out of his semi concentration on that luscious image by the more formidable sight of Ros striding across the grass, heading like an Exocet missile for the summerhouse, followed once again by the sound of the entrance door opening and then shutting as her clipped tones found their way into his inner ear.

"Hello Aaisha. Good to see you still alive, but much longer in here and you'll freeze to death."

Suddenly the chances of Harry's being reunited with the whisky bottle in the very near future were sounding hopeful.

There was a lilt of humour as Aashia responded, "I can do that indoors, especially when Ruth and Harry are in the room. Honestly if it wasn't so tragic it would be funny."

Harry was almost choking, he'd been described in the past as many things, mostly unflattering including comments about his parentage, but not to his knowledge as a figure of fun. Had he been inside the summerhouse he'd have seen Ros and Zoe grinning broadly at the anticipation of what was to come, any hostility between them currently shelved as they imagined Harry's reaction to what Aaisha had just declared.

Harry was now glued to his headphones as Ros enquired, "I understand the first part of that statement, but what exactly is so funny?" Which was pretty much the question Harry would have asked had he been present, not that anyone would have dared make the characterisation to his face.

Aaisha with a sigh obliged, "Well I knew there was something wrong and while we were holed up in the hospital I finally persuaded Ruth to tell me."

"And," the gentle interrogation coming from Zoe.

"It seems that she's in love with Harry, really quite badly and not sleeping much as a result. She thought he was in love with her and then discovered that he had another interest. She quarrelled with him, said some fairly unforgivable things, and now much as she'd like to tell him she the truth she doesn't dare because she knows she's blown it and he'd reject her."

Harry's jaw was practically hitting the desk – what the fuck! How the hell had Ruth come by that notion? While his mind was racing the conversation was also galloping forward with Zoe now chiming in again,

"Not entirely inaccurate. I think the probability was that Harry did have to honeytrap another woman around the time they met and Ruth…"

Aaisha interrupting to reprise what she'd told the group earlier, "That's very unfortunate as Ruth fell rather badly for someone at University who turned out to be a lying philander. It makes her afraid that Harry is cut from the same cloth."

By now Harry was practically chewing the desk in frustration as he recalled Ruth's words the first time that they'd shared a bed. Noted at the time, but then over the subsequent weeks forgotten. How could he have been so stupid!

In the summerhouse with job done, with all three participants smirking as Ros terminated the discussion. "I doubt anything can be done – what do you think Zoe?"

A deference unusual for Ros, allowing Zoe's instant agreement, "The same – Harry does have a bit of a reputation." Then remembering that Harry was responsible for Section D hiring and firing, hastily added a caveat,"although I'm not sure it's entirely deserved, and no one wants to be on the receiving end of his sarcasm if they can avoid it."

Ros returning to practical matters, "Well we'll just have put up with them arguing. Now back to the hotel I think."

With the sound of the group departing and the sight of them trudging back to the rear of the hotel Harry felt able to breathe again. That Ruth's public antagonism towards him was motivated by her trying to deny far contrary feelings towards himself was, he supposed, good news. But how on earth did he deal with the information he had just inadvertently received. He had no immediate time to ponder this puzzle as Malcolm reappeared with the anxious enquiry, "Anything I should know about?" Hoping that the incipient smirk he was supressing went unnoticed.

He was lucky, all Harry's current efforts were focussed on maintaining a stony face and a laudable attempt at normal communication, "No nothing that need trouble you."

Malcolm noting the embarrassment that Harry was trying to hide, which would have deceived anyone less versed in his ways than Malcolm, reckoned that this was an exact truth, while Harry unable to risk any interrogation departed, more in need of a large whisky now than when he'd arrived. A few minutes later Malcolm, tidying up the desk and labelling files and photos as evidence relating to the official operation, was not surprised by the arrival of Ros.

Forged into an uneasy alliance she asked, "Did it work?"

Malcolm judicially responded, "Well he seemed a little flustered so I'd say yes."

Ros' made a slight fleeting upturn of her lips, which Malcolm presumed was her effort at a smile, before asking, "So Ruth …"

"Ah Yes. This evening she was escorting Zahra and when Zahra has been returned to her father I've asked Danny and Adam to delay her until late evening, a joint surveillance on uncle's perambulations. That should mean she avoids meeting Harry tonight. He has to go into London at around seven am tomorrow morning for the weekly Section Heads meeting, which provides a window to perform the mirror exercise with Ruth listening in."

Ros relaxing a touch, commented as she made for the door. "Quite the plotter aren't you Malcolm."

"Years of Harry tend to rub off."

"If I end up in the Section beyond this secondment I do hope so."

A parting shot that made Malcolm scrabble for his leave sheet while contemplating the joys of retirement.