To Harry the week had been both strange and depressing. Strange because Dempsey was very keen for his name to be left out of the report about the death of the American Hitman. The most he would concede to was Makepeace writing about 'the actions she took with her partner' and what's more at the end of it all Spikings had agreed that Dempsey need not sign it.
Depressing because Jimmy's funeral had taken place and she hated these reminders about the risks involved in their work. At the wake when Dempsey had said 'life is hard and then you die' she had been about to slap his face but Tom had come up to Dempsey and asked if everything was ok since he'd been so quiet at the pub the night before. Given that he obviously had a glimmer of humanity within his soul she had simply wandered off to speak with other guys on the team.
For all the times he quoted 'life is hard…' Dempsey wasn't ready to give the mob his new address. He'd been agitated enough that Spikings had simply expected to use him and his contacts back in the States during the investigation without any consideration to his problem and the whole reason for his continued presence in the UK. Again he'd become disconcerted when he realised his name could go back to New York under the sharing of important information; Spikings had actually proved surprisingly helpful on the report writing which had given Dempsey some comfort he didn't know he'd been looking for.
"I'm sure glad it's Friday tomorrow" Dempsey was driving them both back to the office from the docks.
"Thursday! It's Thursday today!" Makepeace appeared astounded.
"Yeh, cos it's Friday tomorrow, like I said"
Makepeace winced just a little as she broached her next question, quite convinced it wouldn't go down well at all. "Can we go via Knightsbridge please?" she asked trying not to beg. The only reason Dempsey conceded was that it would delay their return to the ever mounting pile of paperwork that seemed to breed overnight in the SI10 office.
They parked and Dempsey followed Makepeace through the doors of Harvey Nichols. He put his hand forward to stop the glass door swinging back into his face and as he drew level with the marching woman he called his partner he spoke again.
"What do you mean 'It won't take long' women always take a long time!"
Although tempted to stop and argue Makepeace chose to continue through and up the stairs speaking as she strode "Look I've asked them to select me some dresses to try on; I just need to choose one. You can sit down, read your paper – they'll even give you some fresh coffee."
"As if you Brits even know how to make coffee" was his ungrateful response
"Well we're a nation of tea drinkers – if you don't want coffee no one is forcing you"
"I didn't say that"
And so Dempsey sat on a sofa reading the New York Times; the broad sheet hid most of his upper body. Above the paper you could see some wavy dark hair, below the crossed legs of a pair of jeans.
Occasionally he turned the page, passing one sheet from right to left hand, but what he was really waiting for was the moments when Harry paraded around the floor, moving from the changing room into the larger area with natural light and full mirrors. During those times he feigned interest in his paper but held it in such a way that the sheets dipped allowing him to watch Harry pull, push and smooth each dress as she discussed it with the personal shopper. He was forced to admire both women; Harry for her looks – she somehow managed to look stunning every time but also the assistant who seemed to have the ability to pull together the outfit with shoes and various suggestions for types of jewellery. Dempsey kept quiet; each time he passed no comment, but his facial gestures displayed either raised eye brows or mouth scrunching as he tried not to reveal his interest in the situation.
Whilst Harry was totally absorbed by the task of trying on dresses and trying to make a decision her personal assistant wasn't. She noted Dempsey's interest and his reactions to the different dresses and in her own subtle way she passed on such observations to Makepeace in the privacy of the changing area couching them in general terms and mixing them with her own honest thoughts. Lady Harriet was well known at 'Harvey Nics' and the shopper had chosen four dresses she knew were exactly Lady Harriet's style and two more that were somewhat bolder – it was one of these that had raised Dempsey's interest.
Makepeace retried two of the dresses and sighed "Oh I really don't know! Which one did you prefer?" She threw her question towards Dempsey but he continued to read his paper; "Dempsey"
"Yeh? You ready to go?" he asked as he folded his paper
"Which one did you prefer?"
He paused whilst he judged the wisdom of answering the question, tilted his head to one side, manoeuvred his face and pursed his lips and just as he decided it was really much wiser not to answer found his mouth opening and replying "The silver one"
"What?" she sounded uncertain
Dempsey put his paper right down and grinned, now he'd gotten involved he might as well risk all "You looked stunning, sexy and I ain't ever seen you in anything quite like that partner"
She smiled, he had taken more notice than she had thought, the silver one hadn't ever been a contender – it was the more daring of the two 'bolder choice'.
Dempsey sat up "What's the occasion anyway?"
"The Annual Hunt Ball at Winfield Hall"
"Who goes?" Dempsey asked simultaneously aware that something akin to disappointment or even hurt had seeped into his realization that this had nothing to do with the police ball.
"Just members of the Wessex Hunt"
"Like Lords and Dukes? Any of them single?"
"Quite a few as I recall"
"Am I on the guest list?"
"No"
"In that case you'd better get the blue dress – those big sleeves will keep the men away". Dempsey gave a small wry smile at least she was going with him to the Deputy Comissioners retrirement ball.
"Thank you" her mind was decided, it was neither of those dresses but it was an easy decision now. She felt rash and excited and noted that the observations of her shopping assistant had proven to be more on track than she had given her credit for.
Makepeace put two large bags into the boot of her car. "So which one did you get?" Dempsey peeped into the first bag and noted the red silk; the second bag was firmly sealed, "accessories" came the explanation although there had been no question.
"Can we do some police work now?" Dempsey asked
"Have you finished your paper?"
"Barely started it" he admitted. Makepeace looked at him sceptically; she knew how long they'd been in there. "Well the views were somewhat distracting" he grinned then added "You want to go to any other departments?"
Makepeace looked confused – the whole thing about personal shopping was that they brought everything to you. Dempsey had no real idea but he did explain his logic.
"I don't mind a visit to the lingerie department" he winked
"I'm sure you wouldn't but let me reassure you that there is no need"
"I was just offering"
"Hmmph" Makepeace snorted knowing full well where his hopes lay.
