Chapter 4 - Tea & Sympathy
You're an arsehole, Dempsey," Harry shouted as she marched back into her bathroom to turn off the bath taps.
The water was bubbly, steaming and fragrant.
Rather than a wine glass, she now carried a pint glass filled with nothing more intoxicating than plain tap water. She still had enough presence of mind to realise she needed to get this down her if she was to stand any chance of avoiding the thick head in the morning.
She positioned the glass carefully on the side of the bath next to the loofa and stood up straight, swaying only very slightly. A tiny smile played at her lips as she stuck her hip out provocatively and pulled open the tie of her silk robe.
"You don't know what you're missing, Lieutenant," she smirked, letting the robe puddle at her feet.
For a moment, she slipped out of her role of lorelei, frowning down at the discarded item of clothing – such wanton untidiness went against the grain, even after several units of alcohol.
But the alluring scent of the bubble bath encouraged her to forget the creased silk and she stepped seductively into the warm water, relishing the soft caress of it lapping against her glistening skin.
Languidly, she eased herself back until she was lying with only her head and shoulders above the bubbles.
Harry closed her eyes.
"I could make you so sorry right now," she purred as she gently cleared away the white foam from around her breasts. Her fingertips brushed against their stiff, sensitive peaks and she let out a growling laugh. "I reeeally want to make you sorry."
For better or worse, on Saturday morning Dempsey found himself welcoming Toni and her travelling companion, Greg and all of their stuff into his apartment.
On Friday night it had seemed the obvious thing to do; why shell out on a hotel for seven days when they could use his place as their base.
Now though, he felt some vague misgivings. He didn't know Greg, they'd never met before now and he was just a tiny bit uncomfortable with the idea of sharing his amenities with such an overtly gay man. No more wandering around in his Jockys; leaving the bathroom door ajar when he used the toilet or showered and no more sleeping naked. Better to be safe than sorry.
But, he figured it wouldn't be for long and besides, it would be great to spend some time with Toni again. She had apparently met Greg about eight months ago in a bar around the neighbourhood and they'd hit it off straight away – were great friends by all accounts and Greg had talked her into taking this trip with him after his Uncle Benny had left him a few thousand dollars in his will. He had even paid Toni's airfare which was another reason Dempsey felt he should put them up for a while, as a kind of reimbursement.
"So what do you do, Greg?" Dempsey asked, setting down mugs of tea for the three of them.
Then he did a quick double-take, wondering why he had made tea rather than coffee, without even asking which they would prefer. It was a Harry thing he decided; they drank coffee all day at work so any other time, Harry always insisted on tea and Dempsey had kind of gotten into the habit himself.
"Nothing as exciting as bein' a cop, that's for sure," Greg joked. "I design potato chip packs among other things, commercial graphic design," he clarified after seeing the look of slight puzzlement on Dempsey's face.
"Gotcha," Dempsey acknowledged, silently taking in the guy's cropped hair and spiky bleached blond quiff, the blue plaid shirt and light blue baggy denims. He'd probably had a hand in the Tootsie Roll wrapper too, he decided.
"It's a living. I enjoy it." Greg sat forward a little, taking up his mug in both hands. "And next month, after I get back off this trip, I'm gonna be working on this huge cosmetics contract we've got with Max Factor! Can you believe it? I'm so excited!" Greg gushed.
"Hmmm. Max Factor" Dempsey smiled thinly, "I think I heard o' him."
"So Jimmy," Toni stepped in, "think we could fit in Covent Garden today?" she asked.
Dempsey had volunteered to escort them around London for the day, doing the tourist thing.
"Sure we could."
"And tonight, me and Greg will buy you dinner and we could go to a club or something… that is… well, you must've made plans already, right?"
Dempsey drank his tea. "Nothin' I can't cancel."
The truth was he hadn't made any firm plans, was just going to cruise a few regular haunts and hopefully meet up with a few people he knew.
"Besides, it ain't that often my wife is in town now is it?"
Ever astute, Angela sussed there was a problem after just ten minutes in Harry's company.
They were in Harvey Nichols, wandering the shoe department when Angela suddenly realised that it was she who had been doing all the talking.
"So do you want to tell me now or wait until you've wasted the entire day being miserable?"
"What?" Harry gazed at her friend uncomprehendingly.
"Something is obviously bothering you, darling. Let's go up and get a nice cup of tea and you can tell me all about it."
"Angela, it's really nothing…" Harry started.
"Nothing my eye." Angela linked her arm through Harry's and turned her around to walk back to the lifts. "Come on Lady Aitch, time to spill the beans."
They got a corner table by the window and peeled off their outer winter layers before settling down. A waitress appeared to take their order.
"Well then…?" Angela asked after the girl had retreated. "Is your lack-lustre mood work or pleasure related… or maybe a combination of the two?" she finished pointedly.
Harry looked up sharply and met her friend's penetrating stare.
"I do wish you wouldn't try to worm these things out of me with quite so much candor."
"Come on darling, very little gets under your skin, certainly nothing that shows – unless it's related to our trans-Atlantic cousin of course."
Harry was indignant. "If you're referring to Dempsey I'd like to point out that my life does not revolve around him!" she all but spat the last word.
"But that's just it though, Aitch – it does! " Angela pushed. "You work long hours with him, you see him socially, you live in each other's pockets and if you're going to tell me it isn't James who's put you in this mood then I'm afraid I just won't believe you."
The young waitress appeared with their pot of tea and a couple of Danish pastries and momentarily there was silence between them which continued after she had gone.
"Oh, you're not sulking are you?" Angela giggled. "Have I hit a raw nerve?"
Harry still didn't speak and Angela began pouring milk into their cups.
"I have, haven't I?" she said more seriously. Cautiously, she asked, "What's happened?"
She poured tea and slid Harry's cup and saucer in front of her followed by the plate with her pastry.
Harry swallowed audibly and now fixed her attention on the sweetmeat, nervously picking out a chocolate chip and pressing it between her lips. The sharp tang of the dark chocolate roused her into speech.
"He's fully entitled to a private life," she began breezily.
Angela waited.
"But there are some things you could expect to have learnt about a person…" she took another chocolate chip, "when you've been partnering them for over three years."
"He's gay!" Angela quipped and was met with a sad, wavering smile.
"Sorry," Angela apologised.
After hearing the words jarring inside her brain since yesterday afternoon it was hard to actually vocalise them and it took Harry a moment to summon up the courage.
"He's married," she said dully.
Angela felt herself quite shocked. "Is he now," she said indignantly after a seconds contemplation.
Harry pushed another bitter chocolate bead into her mouth. "At least you didn't say, 'You're joking'."
"It's hardly a joking matter, Harry, darling. So when did this little revelation hit the fan as it were?"
Harry almost wished she hadn't said anything; it had just made it all the more real somehow. Up until this moment it had been a feeling, a bundle of nerve endings locked away inside her that she was compelled to explore, like a child worrying at a loose tooth. Now, by exposing the hurt, she could no longer attempt to deny it.
"She turned up yesterday… at SI-10."
"My God!" Angela was incredulous. "So what did he say to that?"
"Nothing to me, we weren't introduced or anything. I was on my way out of the building you see when she walked in. I just got them to fetch him down to reception and then I went home."
Harry considered her tea cup but refrained from picking it up, afraid that her hands might tremble.
"I saw them though," she continued, "they were all over each other."
God, it was like slashing your own wrists with a blunt razor blade!
"Oh, Harry, darling, I'm so sorry." Angela reached a comforting hand across the table.
Harry tried to mask the moment with bright but unconvincing laughter. "Don't be silly. It's just a bit…" she searched for the word, "…depressing, I suppose. I thought he was a bigger man than that."
Angela nodded, taking a sip of tea. "Mm, so did I." Then she asked solicitously, "No actual harm done I take it? Nothing you haven't told me?"
Harry rolled her eyes and rested her chin in her hand, looking fondly at her friend. "No, no harm done," she said with a sigh.
"So how are you going to play it? What will you say to him?"
"I shan't say anything to him and I don't think I'd be very interested in anything he's got to say on the subject."
"What if they were estranged before he even left New York; they might have been apart for years."
"But why wouldn't he mention it? That's what I can't get my head around."
"Maybe it was something he wanted to just put behind him."
"Well it was something he was certainly enjoying being in front of him yesterday!"
She clamped her teeth onto the Danish pastry and angrily tore a mouthful away.
"A tall, leggy redhead; masses of this gorgeous red hair, just his type," she mused aloud.
Angela was nonplussed. "And I'd always been under the distinct impression that beautiful, petite blondes were more his type."
Harry had put her pastry back down on the plate and had returned to disconsolately picking out the chocolate chips. "Well, clearly you were wrong." She pushed the plate away suddenly. "Shall we talk about something else?"