Long before the front doorbell rang and then the door opened in front of her and Harry walked into the kitchen, it had felt like a rerun of the afternoon when she'd stumbled into the meeting room and her files had spilled out across the table. The fact that she was four years older and in terms of what she'd done during that time for the service, was four years wiser, still didn't stop his ability to make her feel in complete awe of the man that was now standing in front of her. All the time, she'd been picturing him as she'd last seen him. In a suit and tie. Wearing those braces, that set him apart from the others, who apart from Danny, almost always dressed casually. Which meant that she was surprised to see that he'd presumably gone home and changed before he'd come over, or maybe he hadn't been into work at all. It made him look different, that and he looked drawn, or maybe he was unwell? What he was thinking as he stood there looking at her, she had no idea and nor was it her job to speculate. She was very much the subordinate, and he was once again the boss that he'd been then. Untouchable in a way that had drawn her to him in a way that she knew was totally inappropriate, but had no control over. Could he see how nervous she was and that her hands had started to sweat? Did he know that she'd spent the best part of thirty-six hours building herself up for this moment?
On the other side of the table, Malcolm's hasty retreat, to settle his mother down in her room or more likely to be diplomatic, left Ruth wide open to his scrutiny and for the moment, all thought as to why he, or more particularly she was there, was lost to him. As was the power of speech, that had all but deserted him. Other than a polite 'Ruth' and then 'Harry', accompanied by a brief handshake and an attempt by him to smile and the insistence that she should sit down, neither of them had managed to say anything.
Which meant that while she'd been wondering if she should break the silence, by showing him the transcript that she'd brought with her, or just wait, he'd spent the intervening few minutes, acknowledging that his memory hadn't been playing tricks on him and that the blue eyes that set Ruth apart from anyone else that he'd ever known, were as bright as they'd ever been. The pony tail that had bounced from side to side, when she'd been excited about something she'd discovered was gone and her hair was now shoulder length and slightly untamed. It suited her he concluded, as he cleared his throat and dragged his eyes away from her, heading across the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. Something that he noticed made her expression change. Had she remembered that he enjoyed a glass of whisky? Surely not? If she had, then she certainly wouldn't know that he was currently on the enforced wagon, why would she? Unless Malcolm had told her, which was highly unlikely. More than that though, he couldn't weigh up. She looked tired, stressed even. Both of which were understandable, given that she'd risked everything to come here. Driving alone through the night, and then being forced to play companion to Malcolm's elderly mother, would have taken its toll on anyone.
He knew that he also looked out of sorts. Had she noticed and was this the reason that she was looking genuinely concerned? Whatever it was, his gut instinct was telling him to keep the conversation lighthearted until later, rather than plough right in with his usual forceful questioning. After all, they had all evening to get reacquainted and whatever it was that she was cooking, did smell good.
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If Ruth was in awe of Harry, then the same applied to Jo, but in her case, it was of Ros that she was struggling to form a bond with. She learnt very soon after she'd arrived, that if Ros told you to jump, then you didn't ask how high. Not unless you wanted to feel the full weight of her considerable boot up your backside. But having been on her own on the grid for several hours and with nothing other than a bottle of wine and what remained of the previous evenings lasagne to look forward to, she was beginning to get maudlin and in need of some company.
Malcolm and Harry had left hours ago, Harry telling her not to work too late as he's headed towards the pods. Which was all very well, because he'd had a genuine reason to go home early. Whereas she didn't.
During the two years that she'd worked at Thames House, she learnt the hard way, that what they taught you on the course, had very little bearing on the reality of working in Section D. Only just over a week ago, she'd been to see Ben's parents, to tell them that their son had been killed, something that she'd volunteered to do. The utter anguish on Ben's mother's face when she'd told her, what she would never know had been a pack of lies, were weighing hard on her conscience. Connie's betrayal and the fact that she'd spent the best part of the last god knows how many years as a Russian spy. Setting Harry up. Harry who was the bedrock of the section, who was pretending as he always did, that he was coping with yet another loss when he wasn't. She knew why. She just couldn't figure out how he managed it? So on this occasion, the unexpected arrival of her section chief, wasn't entirely unwelcome.
'Have you ever questioned why you do this job?' She asked Ros, watching her as perched on the edge of what had once been Adam's desk. Expecting to receive a look that would shrink her to half her size, but instead receiving one of acceptance, combined with the offer of a shared dinner.
'You choose, I'll pay and I've got a bottle of wine that needs opening,' Ros told her, closing down her computer, before wandering over to turn off the light in Harry's empty office and then reaching for her jacket and bag.
Unlike Jo, Ros knew exactly where Harry had gone and why. Would it prove to be a wise decision, only time would tell? But there wasn't any doubt in her mind, that by this time tomorrow, they'd have a new analyst working with them. What was the harm in her sharing the news with Jo? More than that, she'd spent far too many evenings on her own recently and as hard-nosed as they all thought her to be, she knew that the junior officer had been struggling to come to terms with Ben's death. It was time for her to step up and indulge in the pastoral care that she herself vehemently refused. She doubted that a a glass of wine to pave the way would be considered acceptable, but needs must.
Having never been inside Ros's flat, Jo was surprised that it looked like one of those show homes where everything was placed to make it look better than it was. Ros obviously slept there, as had Adam apparently. Several times if the gossip around the water cooler were to be believed. Other than that, it didn't feel like a home. Which was another thing that bothered her about working for the service. Her flat, humble though it was by comparison, looked lived in and was. She knew the rules, of course she did, but it didn't prevent her having friends outside of work, even if they didn't know what she did. But at least they were there. Whereas the others didn't seem to mix with anyone, other than an occasional visit to the George or to the Cricketers. They never gave of themselves, to the point where she wondered if they had any semblance of a life at all away from the grid? They spent their working days in the shadows, so surely when they went home, providing that they filled in the form and got Harry's approval, they could do what they liked with whoever they liked? Ros though, she was so together, so contained, so lacking in warmth. That it was hard to imagine her letting herself go with anyone. Plus, and here was a thought. Who did Harry have to get approval from, if at all? Did he have a life outside of the grid? If he did, he was certainly very guarded about it. There had been no mention of anyone keeping an eye on him since he'd come out of hospital, so no wonder he was struggling.
In answer to her original question about doubting her role as a spy and after a couple of glasses of wine, Ros opened up. Confirming that her life that was even less fulfilling than Jo had suspected, when it came to the personal.
'Doubt will get you killed. That and losing your focus on whatever it is that you're involved in. As a field officer, it has to take precedence over everything else. That's how Harry's survived all these years and it's a good example to follow. Even as we speak, he'll be fully focused on what he's doing.'
'Which is?' Jo asked her, curiosity getting the better of her.
'He's gone to Malcolm's for the evening, interviewing a potential replacement for Connie. Someone that used to work here years ago. She's called Ruth Evershed. Brilliant apparently and speaks numerous languages. Although Harry hasn't actually said so, I'm guessing that we'll get to meet her in the morning.'
Gone to Malcolm's thinks Jo. What's a potential employee doing at Malcolm's? Unless this is completely off the record and there's more to Ruth Evershed than Ros is telling me or perhaps doesn't know? Either way, she now has something to look forward to in the morning. Meeting this mysterious Ruth, who obviously knows Malcolm and Harry well enough to be spending an evening with them, might be a game changer on the grid.
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On the other side of London, Malcolm's evening wasn't panning out as he'd planned to be. The hour that he'd managed to draw out over dinner, had been torturous in the extreme. There had been small talk about the weather, the state of the economy and how they were all looking forward to an upturn in their personal well-being, as an unusually quiet Harry and an even more so Ruth, created the impression, that he'd already said no to his suggestion, that Ruth should come back and work for them. More than that, there had been no discussion going on about the supposed vital information that Ruth had brought with her. Downing another glass of wine, as he tried to think of something to say to break the deadlock, Harry did it for him. Pushing back his chair and to Malcolm's astonishment, he announced that he was taking Ruth home with him. That he was sorry, but he couldn't explain why at the moment, but that he'd call him first thing in the morning and arrange a place where they could all meet. A meeting that would include Ros and Jo and would be somewhere away from the grid.