Ruth stood in the hallway and watched the door close behind him, with a mixture of confusion and a deep sadness engulfing her. In one single sentence when she'd set out to convince him that it didn't matter to her that he was a spook, she succeeded in driving him away. That she'd lost him as a client was bad enough, considering the rapidly depleting state of her finances, but that she'd lost him as a man felt ten times worse. He'd made all the moves hadn't he? Without actually putting it into words, he'd encouraged her to believe that once his divorce had been finalised that they'd be more to each than just a solicitor and client, and now what? The house had come to life in the week that he'd been coming there, their day with Jacob had been lovely and now with barely a look back she'd been cast aside . She'd waited a long time for someone to walk into her life that could make her feel the way that Harry did. His smile, his eyes, his gentle and well - educated voice. Their shared interest in music and the rare books that she'd collected over the years. Spook or not, his interest in her was genuine, she was sure about that. Screaming wasn't going to solve anything but she did it anyway, relieving the pressure cooker of emotions that were building inside her. She'd done what she'd told herself that she'd never do, she'd fallen for someone. But this wasn't just anyone, this was Harry. Warts and all he was special, and she wasn't about to give him up without a fight.
Had she called him at that moment, then Harry would have turned the car around from where he was parked at the end of her road and driven back. Instead of which, as Ruth attempted to eat the omelette rather than plaster the walls of her kitchen with it, he restarted the car and paused before putting it into gear and driving away. He was heading towards home to what he knew would be a resounding welcome from Scarlet before another long evening and even longer night, spent rattling around in his empty house alone. But tonight home didn't appeal, so he did what he always did when he needed time to think, he drove in the direction of the river and parked no more than a mile from Thames House. As he lent against the river wall and gazed into its unfathomable depths, he barely saw the lights that were sparkling on the water. He could and should have handled this better, given her a proper explanation rather than the well - practised platitudes that he'd reeled off numerous times over the years. Ruth was worth more than that and he'd balls it up as usual. As he tried to concentrate on something less morbid than what it might feel like to throw himself in and how cold the water might be, which knowing his luck would see him plastered across the front pages of the tabloids, he smiled, indulging himself for the moment that he still had modicum of a sense of humour. What was it that Ruth had said? Something about having arranged a meeting with Jane's solicitor the day after tomorrow, needing to know how his meeting with Juliet had panned out, and being his solicitor had been her last words. How on earth was that going to work after what he'd said? He needed to calm himself and the only way to do that was to have a drink. His younger self would have sought out a bar and a faceless woman to bury himself in, but Juliet was right in one respect at least, he was tired and way beyond going in search of an easy pick up. Ruth Evershed had got under his skin and she wasn't just an itch that he needed to scratch. Without any effort, she'd burrowed her way into not only his head but his heart and Adam had seen it, he felt sure. Turning the car around and going back to her wasn't an option for this evening, he needed to think this through with a clear head and hope that by the time he called her in the morning, that she hadn't put his file in the shredder and moved onto her next client.
It was Fiona who answered the phone.
'Adam's doing the washing up and Wes is asleep and yes of course you can come over, providing that you don't need to talk to me because I'm just heading off to bed,' she told Harry tactfully, when he called and said that he was less than ten minutes away and could he call in to see them because he needed to talk to someone.
'I'll head on up,' she said to Adam, giving him a peck on the cheek and a look that said try not to be too long, as they heard Harry's car door close and Adam reached for the whisky. This wasn't the first time by any means that he'd been to their house. He was Wes's Uncle Harry in every sense of the word and as far as Wes was concerned, Harry walked on water and could do no wrong. The innocence of a child they'd once said ruefully, during a conversation that they'd all shared at a time when Fiona had been doubting her commitment to the cause and the merits or otherwise of her and Adam having a child. Harry had been the voice of reason on that night and smoothed things over between them, after which he and Adam had become as close as it came to having a friend. Adam was well aware that if Harry was in trouble or needed to unburden himself, then there was no one else that he could turn too. A sad but real reflection of the loneliness that walked hand in hand with his boss.
He passed Harry his glass and waited, watching as Harry'd threw back a more than generous amount, before in Harry's mind he admitted what he'd done.
Idiot thought Adam, although if Harry's body language matched what he was thinking, then saying so wasn't the best option.
'Doubts are healthy Harry, they make us question our decisions, so yes you were wise to take a step back, but walking away as though she didn't matter, what on earth were you thinking?'
'I suspect that I wasn't thinking at all, well certainly not about the consequences of what I was doing,' was an answer directed to the floor.
'Then put it right, before it's too late. Yes, it might be difficult having a relationship in our profession at whatever level, but isn't unattainable for heaven's sake, otherwise none of us in the service would be partnered or have children. I saw you on Saturday Harry or have you forgotten that as well? You were happy, so was Ruth, it was so bloody obvious that she means more to you than just your solicitor,' made perfect sense to Adam, but this was Harry.
'You make it sound so simple, but it's not that easy, if that's what you're implying Adam,' was barely audible.
Adam wasn't implying anything, he was struggling to understand what was holding Harry back, when he'd torn Juliet to bits about the selfsame subject. But maybe that was it. Maybe Juliet was right and Harry couldn't? No that was impossible surely, but he could hardly ask. The only other and more plausible option was that Harry had fallen hook line and sinker for Ruth, which to Adam was the best news he'd had in years, whereas his work obsessed boss would be weighing up the implications as to where a relationship with her might lead, and more so because Ruth didn't work for the service. In which case it was game on and he just had to find the right words. Deciding to plump for the second option he ploughed on.
'I'm not implying anything Harry, but have you even considered that Ruth might feel exactly the same as you do and be prepared to take that risk? We have the resources to protect her Harry, more so now than we ever did. Unless you put this right now you'll lose her I guarantee it, is that really what you want? ' Sounded harsh even to Adam, but he was determined to make Harry face up to the alternative. 'You have to move past this ridiculous indecision Harry, why don't you just ring her?' he suggested.
'She might be asleep,' and Adam was back to contemplating shaking Harry. But what was the point in that? He settled on humour.
'Yes and you might be swimming fully clothed in front of half the country's media, but you're not. For God's sake Harry just listen to yourself. It's nine o'clock in the evening, you're roaming the streets in search of something that's right under your nose and do you seriously expect her to not answer her phone when she sees it's you whose calling her?'
Harry could. Adam hadn't seen the look of disbelief and hurt on Ruth's face when he'd told her that he had to go.
'She can be quite feisty,' he told him in his defence.
'Well then lucky old you,' said Adam with a grin, relieved that Harry had at last used a word that meant something, deciding that a strong cup of coffee was a wiser option than another glass of whisky, if Harry could be persuaded to ring Ruth. 'By the way, Wes has revised his opinion of Ruth, he thinks she's lovely,' he told him, as he headed in the direction of the kitchen, pondering the naivety with which his worldly - wise boss approached his out of work life, and in particular women. Adam knew how old Harry was and if he'd been lucky enough to find someone who cared for him enough to have spent the best part of a week with him, when he'd possibly spent god knows how many years on his own, then pursuing a relationship with Ruth, had to be risk worth taking. He just needed to be sure that he was completely sober before he bundled him back into his car.
Whilst Harry and Adam had been enjoying the whisky and Adam making the most of this opportunity to try and convince Harry to get himself out of the rut, Ruth was taking a different path to oblivion, by frantically scribbling notes at the rate of knots. She'd avoided opening the bottle of wine that Harry had brought with him and had managed to school her thoughts towards the meeting that was or maybe wasn't going to take place with Jane's solicitor, and how she was going to advise Harry that they should approach it. Divorce was rarely straightforward, but the fact that Jane had found herself another partner and wanted a divorce, to which Harry had agreed, should pave the way to an easy transition. Unless and she really hoped that this wasn't the case, that Harry had lied to her about Jane knowing that he'd been between the sheets with Juliet Shaw when Graham had rung him. Because if he had, then all hell would break loose and it wouldn't only be Jane that was lighting the bonfire and setting fire to his trousers, she'd help her. It was a conversation that she needed to have with him before the meeting. She needed to be absolutely sure and with the meeting two days away, that meant it had to be tomorrow. It was only nine o'clock but what the hell she was tired and there wasn't anything that couldn't wait until the morning, so she turned off her phone and headed upstairs to bed.
In her sumptuous flat on the opposite side of the river, Juliet Shaw was suffering in silence as the weasel faced Jason Belling sat across the room from her enjoying a glass of the cheap wine that she'd invested in on her way home. Cheap as in him, she'd thought to herself, as she poured him another glass and re iterated what would happen to him if he let her down.
'It's not only your balls that you'll need to be worried about Jason, do you understand me?' She told him, watching him squirm and a flicker of uncertainty cross his face. The power that she had over men was extraordinary, stirring the same instinct as it had when she'd bedded Harry all those years ago, only to be rejected because of his sodding loyalty to his children. 'I want his every move watched and keep an eye on Adam Carter as well, I don't trust him an inch when it comes to protecting Harry. Do you think you're up to that small task?' She asked him, crossing her legs provocatively and in as suggestive a voice as she could muster, without actually being sick.
'Absolutely,' the weasel grinned back, his eyes drawn to her legs and seeing not only his payroll in terms of his rise up the ranks in the security services increasing by the minute, should Juliet be sitting in the hot seat on the top floor at six, which was apparently an absolute certainty.
'You do this on your own, you tell nobody and you report back to me on a regular basis do you understand?' She told him, handing him a phone that she'd already primed with her number. 'If you get caught, then you're on your own, so watch your back, they're slippery little buggers over the river. Harry's up to something I'm sure of it and I need you to find out what it is. Go through his dirty washing if you need to, you do know where he lives and how to pick a lock I presume? A little phone tapping wouldn't go amiss either,' she added, as his face spread into a reptilian grin. 'You rub my back and I'll rub yours,' at which point Jason's imagination revisited the top of Juliet's thighs and beyond, only to be halted by Juliet's next words. 'Right off you go now, go home and play with yourself and I'll expect to hear from you tomorrow.'
Desperate times called for desperate measures, Jason wouldn't dare squeal she knew that, as she stood at her window and watched him cross the road. This was her time. She'd instigated her way back in and she meant to make it count. It was a shame really that Harry would be made to suffer, because he'd actually been the best that she'd had when it came to a romp in the sack. It was just a pity that it hadn't been more than one time, although who knows, if she played her cards right before the shit really hit the fan, despite what he'd said, he still might be up for a bit of out of hours entertainment. A delicious and image provoking prospect that had her needing to satisfy herself.