Maybe spending your life in the service of your country did come with some perks attached to it, if this was where you were forced to live if they gave you the proverbial boot, Ros concluded, as she climbed the first few steps up what looked like a fire escape, in search of the man that Harry had insisted could help her. Ducking under something that fitted her description of tacky which was masquerading as quite recently washed underwear, pegged onto a makeshift line on the landing below his, she was of a mind to turn back. Despite him knowing the address, she was prepared to bet that Harry had never been here. Wishing that she'd chosen to wear more sensible shoes and had dressed down, she stopped to take in her surroundings and a breath of the less than fresh air. The heels that she was wearing certainly hadn't been designed for this sort of climb nor had the elegant and tight fitting suit, which she'd been purposely chosen to help her gain the upper hand at her next appointment.
If you had nothing better to do other than to laze about in the sunshine, on what according to the previous evening's weather forecaster was going to be the start of an unseasonably warm spell of weather for late April, the last person that you'd want to turn up on your doorstep at seven in the morning, hell bent on dragging back into Thames House after three years of making do and surviving, would be Ros Myers.
'Who the bloody hell are you?' and 'you've got to be kidding me,' said Alec White, through bloodshot eyes at the blonde and dressed to kill dynamo that had finally reached his doorstep, demanding that there would be no excuses and she expected to see him in an hour's time.
'Harry said you'd be pleased to see me,' she told him with a look that he couldn't quite discern, as she glanced around what for him had been his sanctuary away from the world that had deserted him, where he'd lived without being judged, and until now had been able to drink himself half to death. But the offer of more money than he'd get in the way of benefits if he saw the year out unemployed, plus the threat to speak to what she rightly presumed was his current girlfriend's husband, made her offer a no brainer.
'Read this before you arrive and don't bloody loose it,' had seen Connie's file being passed like a parcel for the second time in as many days, before Ros disappeared back outside into the early morning sunshine and down the torturous steps to drive across London to Whitehall. She quite liked the idea of flustered in a man, it reminded her of Harry in the early days when he'd been around Ruth, and look where they were now. Well you never knew did you, this particular one had looked as though he might scrub up equally nicely?
Nicholas Blake already had a full diary for his day, so when his secretary paged him to say that Ros Myers was in her office and demanding a few moments of his time when he was just about to leave for a late breakfast meeting with the opposition leader, his response was far from courteous. He was however very keen to catch up on the latest news about the once Head of Counter Terrorism and hopefully be told where the hell the man had got to. The chairman of the JIC had been on his back for days, having contacted Thames House and been given what he'd described as the run round by one of the lame brains that worked at five, and then had the gall to threatened him that there was only so much time before the press would get hold of the fact that Harry Pearce had gone walkabout, insinuating, that in the resulting fallout, the PM would more than likely re assign him to the back benches. Bastard was the word that had come to mind, but he'd been so shocked by what appeared to be a veiled threat, that he'd failed to point out to the insidious man, that he was his employer not his employee.
'By special courier yesterday and addressed to you personally as requested Miss Myers,' referred to the names and addresses of the night staff that were employed by the Home Office to work at Kettlemere, answered her first question and 'no, apart from the chairman of the JIC, there had been no other enquiries into Harry's whereabouts.'
'And Harry, how is he?' didn't feature until after Ros had finished what she'd come to say, by pointedly telling him that her section was making good progress, given that they were shockingly short staffed. God damn it, that old chestnut, the number of times he'd been brushed off by Harry with the same bullshit which had apparently rubbed off on Ros. Maybe it was endemic in section heads that they piss off the Home Secretary by deflecting their questions to their own advantage?
'Harry's very well all things considered, but as I've pointed out before Home Secretary, your own safety as well as Harry's is paramount, so I'm afraid that until the current situation is resolved, it's crucial that I keep Harry's whereabouts to myself,' wasn't the answer he wanted, but was expecting.
'And this current situation that you keep talking about, may I ask?' He tried again less forcefully. Was he was never going to get a straight answer from this woman?
'Will be nullified I assure you Home Secretary, but I must rush I have an urgent meeting to attend, I'm sorry,' and Ros was on her feet again, as she and her not entirely distasteful rear end headed towards his door.
'Well thank you for the update Miss Myers, you've been most helpful and please give my best to Harry when you see him,' drifted into the ether, leaving him no further forward in knowing what was going on than before she'd arrived. Ros on the other hand had got exactly what she wanted. The creep Mace had been sniffing around had he, now that was interesting?
With a clear plan for the rest of her day firmly in her head, she'd warned everyone with the exception of their suspected traitor, to be late on pain of death.
'Alec White seconded to us from another section to make up the numbers until Harry gets back,' Ros told Connie, well after the introductions and explanations as to the reasons that he was there, had been made to the rest of her staff.
'So Harry's coming back to us is he?' She felt obliged to ask, trying to appear interested.
'Well eventually, we're all assuming so, aren't you?' Jo asked her.
'Do we know where he is yet?' Ben asked the room in general, as Connie continued to wait for Ros to haul the children back to a subject that didn't involve their no longer boss. These don't tell Connie what's going on games were getting very tedious, not that it mattered, she already knew the answers to most of the questions.
She got her wish right on cue, as Ros suggested that they get back to more pressing matters that they did have some control over and would Alec give her a moment and then come into her office for a briefing.
One of the things that Connie didn't know was that Tariq had installed a programme into her computer that linked it to Ruth's, so holding Connie back as the other's filed out of the meeting room, Ros told her that there was a rumour floating about that the CIA were up to something and she wanted her to spend as much time as it took to find out what it was.
'Ethic's don't come into it,' Ros had told Tariq, when he questioned whether he should be feeding Connie false information to keep her busy. 'It's a way of us keeping her at her desk and for Ruth to monitor what if anything else she's looking at or more importantly who she's communicating with. She may well be innocent and I hope that she is, but until we prove otherwise, I want that bloody woman watched night and day.'
In the few moments that she had to herself before Alec arrived, Ros turned her attention to Jo and Ben. They'd already left the grid to interview the two overnight guards. Dressed as police officers, their plan was to ask questions about a reported break in that had occurred in the property closest to Kettlemere, one of a small row of workers cottages that had once belonged to the main house in the glory days of having servants. Jo was making a good fist of protecting Ben, Ros knew that, and why not. She'd have done the same in the days when she'd been section chief, it was part of the job and she appreciated the way that Jo had stepped up.
Parking their car in the only available space, in what looked to be a very upmarket road in Highbury, Jo rang Malcolm.
'Based on the amount of traffic and the distance between where Ron Davies lives and where he works, it could take him anything up to an hour to get to and from work,' he told her.
They'd checked the cctv from the days either side of finding Harry's guard hanging, and there had been no sign of Ron either leaving or arriving at his house. His mobile phone appeared to be turned off and his wife who didn't go out to work hadn't answered the house phone. Ros was concerned that they'd find another body or worse still two.
'Is there anything wrong, can I help?' asked an inquisitive neighbour who was cutting his garden hedge and had seen the police car pull up and Ben ring the bell.
'Maybe you can sir. We've had reports of a stolen car that is registered to Mr Davies and we'd like to have a word with him, do you know where he is?' Jo asked.
'On holiday love, he and his misses have been gone for three weeks, some sort of prize it was, they're in the Bahamas.'
At the same time as their colleagues on the grid were trying to solve the multiples of unanswered questions and by working all hours, ensuring that they were kept safe, Harry was doing his best to prepare another late morning after breakfast. That was to say, it was the second morning after the kiss breakfast when nothing more had happened or been said, about what for both of them should have been a huge step forward. It had taken every ounce of his restraint not to take Ruth to bed after what had been a kiss that would live with him forever. With the previous understanding that they'd developed seemingly blown to bits, she leant into him and responded with everything she had. Now though, he was totally confused as to what he might have said or done that had seen her backtracking from the moment that she'd laid eyes on him the following morning, whereas for Ruth it was simple. After all the years of indecision, she'd finally summoned up the courage to give Harry the green light and how had he responded? He'd kissed her and then said goodnight. Did he honestly not know how dreadful she was feeling, having offered herself to him on a plate and then been rejected?
'I've made you toast,' he tried, as she pottered into the kitchen with her head down and all the joy that he'd seen in her eyes two evenings ago seemingly gone. Her hand was resting on the table and his attempt to hold it just added to his misery, as it was snapped back before he could make contact. Christ what the hell was wrong with the woman, she'd thrown him a lifeline and the kiss had been amazing and now this. Would he ever understand women?
The day passed perilously slowly, as they worked as best they could, side by side but not touching, until Jo arrived as arranged just before dinner which Harry alone was cooking.
As soon as Ruth opened the door, Jo's heart sank. Either something catastrophic had happened between the gird and here, although as she hadn't been red flashed more likely between Harry and Ruth. What was the matter with these two, and after the day that she'd had, did she really have the energy to find out?
'Harry's cooking dinner, I'm in here,' didn't bode well, especially as Ruth had a large glass of wine next to her computer as opposed to her usual cup of tea.
For what felt like an age to Jo but not long enough for Ruth, Jo updated her on the outcome of the day. Ros's visit to see the Home Secretary, her trip with Ben that proved without doubt that the usual night staff had been replaced by two that only Harry could identify, that Alec White had arrived and although she hadn't actually talked to him other than for a few minutes, that she agreed with Harry's assessment that he was a good addition to the team, and that Tariq had completed the link to her computer so that she could access what Connie was doing.
'We're still no further forward though, that's the trouble, how about you two?' she asked Ruth,
There could have been so many other ways that Jo could have worded that sentence and she hadn't meant it in any context other than work, but as Ruth's face crumbled, she knew that she'd put her foot in it big time, and felt compelled her to take Ruth's hands in her own.
'Talk to me Ruth,' she suggested.
With work forgotten such was her despair, Ruth did what she'd never done before and spoke to the only person other than Harry that she truly trusted, starting by telling Jo that she'd got it wrong about Harry's feelings for her, and as a result she'd made a fool of herself.
'Don't be ridiculous,' was Jo's unsaid response, 'tell me how if you want to?' she went with, in a way that she hoped would make Ruth feel that she could continue and sort out this will they won't they once and for all. Even with her resolve to right the wrongs, this was getting tedious.
With Ruth's memory that was second to none she started to speak, hesitatingly at first until it became an almost he said I said account, as she told Jo what had happened. The only glimmer of a smile came when she told her about the look of horror on Harry's face when he'd said 'well you should try sleeping in it.'
'And what happened after that?' Jo asked her.
'I virtually threw myself at him and all I got was a kiss, and now it's almost impossible to continue to be near him, how could I have possibly got it so wrong?'
If Ruth hadn't looked so totally alone and as though all the energy had been sucked out of her, Jo would have started her response with don't be such an idiot. But this was Ruth, who was brilliant beyond any of them when it came to solving work related problems, but so utterly inept when it came to dealing with what she perceived to be problems in her private life. She'd watched the pair of them together, she knew how Harry felt, she wasn't wrong, so bugger it, one last try she thought.
'Have you and Harry actually sat down and discussed what happens after this is over Ruth, surely you can see things from his point of view can't you?'
'Well I've told him all about my new job and where I was living,'
'As in 'It was lovely, I was really enjoying myself Harry?'
'Well yes I suppose so,'
'But you haven't actually told him why you came back for instance?'
'I thought that was obvious?'
'Nothing's ever been obvious about you two, well apart from,'
'What do you mean?'
Enough Ruth, stop being obtuse, was what she wanted to say, but she took a gentler route, she was running out of ideas and this might be the only chance that she had.
'If you'd done what you both so obviously wanted to do, and at the end of this op, how can I put it, maybe you say 'cheerio Harry I'm flying back to the States tomorrow,' he'll be devastated. You're not just a pick up and put down to Harry, I've told you before, he's in love with you,'
'But that's not what I'll say,'
'Quite, but Harry's not a minder reader Ruth, well not all the time, he needs you to tell him.'
He hadn't intending listening outside the door, but having arrived to tell them that dinner was ready and heard Ruth say that it was impossible to be near him now that she'd got it so wrong, he'd felt compelled him to stay. The fact that Ruth was feeling confident enough to talk to Jo rather than him, really hurt. How could she possibly believe that he wouldn't want her beyond this op? But that was his fault, not hers. As soon as dinner was over and Jo had gone, they'd have that conversation and he'd bloody well prove it to her.
