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Requiem for a Love Affair

Chapter 2

Harry watched Juliet being driven away and then wandered aimlessly along the Embankment to Westminster Bridge. He stood for a long time gazing at the river and contemplating the bombshell she had dropped on him. It seemed that Mace's penance had been served and he was now ready to return to a prime position in the Security Services. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that Mace would get the post, despite Juliet's protestations that it wasn't a certainty. There were still enough people around who supported him and regarded his treatment over the Cotterdam affair as unreasonable.

Dusk had fallen and, with a long sigh, Harry stirred himself from his position looking at the reflected lights dance in the river. He trudged wearily back towards Thames House, wondering what the next few weeks would hold for him and his team. As he was crossing Lambeth Bridge, his phone rang.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Adam couldn't disguise the concern in his voice.

"I'm fine. I'm on my way back; I'll be about five minutes." Harry ended the call. He still needed time to think about what he was going to tell the others.

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"Juliet's going to the UN? God, isn't that like putting Herod in charge of childcare provision?" Adam's attempt at levity fell flat.

"That's the least of our worries Adam." Harry toyed with his glass of whisky. He had felt in need of a drink on his return to the Grid.

"So what haven't you told me?"

"Mace is in the running to take over from Juliet."

Adam stared at him, wondering if he had heard correctly. "She told you that? It can't be right."

"She said there were two names in the frame and Mace is the favourite." Harry drained his glass.

"Well if that's the case, we're screwed. Totally screwed." Adam sat down heavily and rubbed his hands over his face. "Do you know who the other candidate is?

"No idea. Juliet chose not to share that piece of information." Harry thought for a moment. "To be fair, she may not even know."

Adam snorted. "She'll bloody know."

"Maybe."

"She's taking the piss; trying to wind you up. Mace can't possibly be in the running."

Harry studied the empty tumbler before replying. "I'm not so sure Adam."

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Three days after his meeting with Juliet, the official announcement regarding her successor was made. Harry sat disconsolately in his office watching the television news.

"In a surprise announcement today, the Home Office confirmed that Oliver Mace will be the new National Security Co-ordinator, replacing Juliet Shaw who is joining the United Nations Anti-Terrorist Committee as a Technical Expert. Mr Mace is a former Chairman of the Joint Intelligence Committee. He was forced to resign in 2006 after the fire at Cotterdam Prison was revealed to have been a Security Services ploy to enable seven terror suspects to be removed from the UK to undergo special interrogation, widely believed to be torture. Mr Mace will take up his new appointment in just over three weeks."

He switched the news off, sick of seeing Oliver's smug features grinning at him from the screen. Harry had known what was going to be in the bulletin; he had been summoned to see the DG first thing that morning. He had been told unequivocally that he either worked with Mace or he resigned. The second option had appealed to him more than he cared to admit but he wouldn't do it; because then Oliver would have won and Ruth's sacrifice would have all been in vain.

He looked at the file in front of him but it was no good; he couldn't concentrate on any of it. Instead, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a slightly crumpled postcard. It was a simple reproduction of a line drawing of King Offa. Inscribed on the back, in neat script, was a short verse:

You are the rarest soul I ever knew,
Lover of beauty, knightliest and best;
My thoughts seek you as waves that seek the shore,
And when I think of you, I am at rest.

There was no sender's name, just a single 'X' to represent a kiss, but Harry knew who the card was from; the familiar handwriting and the picture were enough for him to be sure Ruth had sent it. It had arrived exactly one year to the day after she had left; her faith in the Royal Mail obviously much stronger than his. He had stood in his kitchen and flicked through the pile of post he had picked up on his way in and the card had almost shouted out its existence. It had never left his presence since; it was either in his pocket or propped on his nightstand next to a photo of her he had acquired when he collected her cats.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Adam walking across the Grid towards his office. He replaced the card in his jacket and looked up as the younger man walked in.

"Harry, I think there might be a way of stopping Mace taking over from Juliet."

"Really?"

Adam nodded. "Yes. What about proving he murdered Ruth? We could say he blackmailed her into helping with the removal of the seven suspects from Cotterdam. Then he found out she was going to tell you the truth so he framed her for Maudsley's murder. After you attacked Mace in his club, he got his revenge by killing Ruth."

"I don't know Adam." Harry looked as doubtful as he sounded and started to pace around his office. "What about Ruth? If we were successful in framing Mace for her 'murder', she'd never be able to… to come back to her old life." He stopped and sat on the edge of his desk. The silence filled the room as both men considered the arguments for and against Adam's suggestion.

"What if she doesn't want her old life back?" The younger man had voiced one of Harry's most unwelcome thoughts.

"She might…"

"Have you heard from her?" There was a hint of accusation to the question.

"No I haven't," Harry lied. Some instinct made him hold back from telling his colleague about the postcard. "But I don't think we have any right to use her again."

"I don't think she'd mind. In fact I think she'd be quite happy for us to use her 'death' to nail Mace once and for all." Getting no response, Adam continued, "at least think about it."

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Ruth felt her breath catch as she scrolled through the news report on the BBC website. She read and re-read it, certain it must be a mistake; but it wasn't - Mace was back. She closed the website page and shut the lid down on her laptop. She stood up shakily, walked across to the open French windows and gazed out across the terraced garden. She felt safe here; had felt safe here. Now the familiar feeling of nauseating fear that plagued the first few months of her new life clawed at her stomach once again.

Her mind worked feverishly as she considered the various scenarios which might have led to Oliver's return. Harry didn't feature in any of them; Ruth was sure there was no way he would tolerate being in the same room as Mace, let alone work with him again. If that was the case then there was only one conclusion: Harry had left the service. The thought weighed heavily on her mind. She needed to find out what had happened and where he was.

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