THE NEW RECRUIT
Chapter 15
The LakeMeanwhile Catherine Palmerston was trying to feign interest as Tim extolled the joys of the forthcoming cricket fixtures at the Oval.
"It's all very riveting Tim, but the only interest I ever had in cricket was sipping champagne in a deckchair during my brother's school sports day. I'd rather talk about something closer to my own hobbies."
"For example?"
Catherine smiled and rubbed the palm of her hand over the young man's groin.
"Oh I don't know, for instance shagging in a rowing boat."
The young man's eyes filled with panic.
"We can't do that here we'll capsize."
"No we won't, not if you do as I tell you. Now lie down flat in the boat, pull down your pants and let me do the rest."
Catherine was established in a settled rhythm of apparently energetic rowing when a madly waving attendant caught her eye, who appeared to be trying to catch her attention.
"Oh bloody hell, what does he want?"
Tim's head lurched up.
"Oh my God he's seen us."
"No he hasn't you idiot, keep still."
Catherine sighed deeply with annoyance and uncoupling herself from Tim rowed back towards the shore.
"This had better be good. What the hell do you want?"
"There's an urgent message for you Ms Palmerston at the hotel."
"What message?" replied Catherine suspiciously.
"Er, I believe it says contact London immediately."
Catherine crossly pulled out her mobile phone and groaned with irritation as it failed to show a signal.
"Where is this – Outer Mongolia? Why is there no signal? " and muttered under her breath
"If this is you Adam Carter I'm going to cut your balls off."
"I'm afraid the signal isn't very good here, we're in a dip of the South Downs."
"Thank you, but if I wanted a geography lesson I'd have gone back to school."
Catherine turned to the red-faced Tim still sitting in the boat.
"I'll have to go up to the hotel. Timmy be a dear, make yourself useful and bring the things up to our room."
Catherine strode away from the mooring and up the same path that Harry had carried a dripping Ruth only fifteen minutes earlier.
As Tim bent over to help tie up the boat and obediently empty it, he failed to notice two figures approaching until they stood next to him.
"Mr Timothy Harrington?"
Tim straightened up with a worried and puzzled expression on his face. A smartly dressed man of Asian appearance held out an official ID to him.
"My name's Asim Malik, I'm with the Fraud Squad, this is my colleague Miranda Walker."
Here the man gestured to an attractive willowy blond dressed in a tight navy suit.
"We have reason to believe you have been involved in illegal insider dealing along with several other employees of your firm."
"That's nonsense. This is ridiculous. I haven't done anything wrong."
"I'm sorry you will have to accompany us back to London to answer some questions."
Tim's protests were ignored by the rather intimidating official who took him firmly by the arm and marched him towards a waiting car.
"Ur … I can't just go like that. I'm here with someone. All my things are in my room."
"You're belongings are already in the car. Don't worry about your lady-friend. She's being well taken care of."
Catherine Palmerston walked up the incline towards the main entrance of the hotel as she continued to try her phone.
"Why hasn't this bloody thing got a signal?" she muttered to herself in irritation.
"Are you sure it's switched on, technology has never been your strong point has it Catherine?"
Catherine's head jerked up at the familiar voice and she found herself staring up into the cold blue gaze of her colleague.
"If you've come to remove me Adam, I warn you I won't go quietly and I'm not just referring to how loudly I can scream."
Adam smiled back at her with a relaxed sardonic expression.
"On the contrary Catherine, I'm not here to kidnap you, I've something to show you."
In a gesture of mock civility Adam indicated that Catherine should proceed into the hotel and then guided her into a small lounge where the curtains were drawn and a plasma screen flickered on the wall
"If you wanted to watch porn Adam you only had to ask."
Adam gestured to Catherine to sit down on the couch. Taking a disc out of his breast pocket he opened a DVD player that was located discreetly behind a wooden panel and slid it in. Suddenly the screen was filled with a still frame of the alluring figure of Catherine Palmerston naked apart from Harry's shirt.
"I'm sure if Turnbull and Asser fancy a more sexed-up image for this years ad campaign they would pay an impressive fee for your services Catherine."
"Where the hell did you get this? There weren't any cameras in the living room I checked."
"As I said before Catherine, technology's not your strong point. It takes the best to trap the best and I'd say you've been well and truly snookered on this occasion."
Adam pressed the remote control and the scene at Harry's house began to replay in a high quality recording that captured both the image and sound in perfect detail. Catherine looked momentarily flustered but then her normal haughty expression fell into place.
"And? …Am I meant to be frightened by this? Grow up. It just shows that I'm damned good at my job."
"Well yes, except in this instance I didn't notice Harry dropping his boxers and succumbing to your charms, but we'll let that pass. What it shows is a junior operative trying to corrupt and bribe a Section Head. The Service takes a dim view of such activities, well at least those recorded on tape and distributed to all departments."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Watch me."
Catherine's face assumed a sulky expression as she watched herself sucking Harry Pearce's finger although even in the tight corner that she found herself in at that moment her thoughts turned to sex as she recalled the taste and feel of Harry's broad finger and felt a responding tingle in her groin.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to back off Catherine. Leave Harry and Ruth alone. Go and find another focus for your undoubted talents."
"Is that it? You mean the great Adam Carter and the might of Section D have pooled their resources just to get little old me to stop propositioning your boss? I thought Harry Pearce was a big enough boy to fight his own battles?"
Adam sighed with exasperation
"I have better things to do Catherine than sit here all day bandying insults. Your cases are already packed in the car and your toy boy is on his way back to London."
Adam opened the DVD player and retrieving the disc, slipped it back into his jacket. Catherine responded by holding out her hand.
"Oh no Catherine, this is an insurance against future lapses."
"I'm not so stupid Adam as to presume either that it's the only one or that if it was you would be willing to hand it over. No I'd just like a copy, it's the closest I've got to bedding Harry Pearce, so I'd like it as a momento."
"You're not the sort to indulge in sentimentality Catherine. If you want souvenirs try the Tower of London."
Catherine rose from the couch and stood close to Adam so that her body undulated against his and stroked his chest.
"When Harry elopes with little Red Riding Hood to Gretna Green and you get his position don't forget to give me a ring. I'm sure we could make a very interesting video just you and I and that large desk in his office."
Adam smiled back flirtatiously
"I'll bear that in mind Catherine, but you'll have to join the queue, I've had quite a few tempting offers already."
As Ruth sat on the edge of her bed the telephone on top of the bedside table rang with a jarringly loud tone that could not be ignored. Ruth lifted the receiver cautiously
"All quiet on the western front?" intoned a soft low voice.
"Is that a question or a declaration?"
"Both. Are you willing to meet on no-mans-land and discuss a ceasefire?"
"I wasn't aware that we were at war?"
"Well perhaps not war, but definitely hostilities. I've got the bruises to prove it."
"Excuse me, who slammed who against the wall?"
"Guilty as charged your Worship and in grave danger of re-offending."
It took Ruth a few seconds to realise that the last sentence came not from the telephone held to her head, but from the man who had silently entered her room and was standing only feet away from her. She sighed in mock annoyance and replaced the receiver
"I wish you'd stop sneaking up on people, it's a very irritating ha ……"
Ruth was prevented from completing her sentence by Harry who advanced and pushed her down on the bed.
"What precisely do you think you're doing Harry?"
"Pressing home my advantage of course – a classic military manoeuvre. Are you ready to surrender?"
Ruth giggled and snorted her reply
"Only if you agree to a tactical withdrawal."
"Ruth!"
Needless to say Ruth's capitulation to his superior force was immediate and absolute without the need for further negotiation.
A Magical Mystery TourRuth and Harry took lunch in the traditional elegant surroundings of the formal dining area of the hotel. Harry, gazing across the table at Ruth, whose face was animated as she described the long summers spent at her grandparent's house, felt like a teenager: infatuated, aroused ( his mind preoccupied by images of Ruth's body and the sensation of climaxing inside her) but at the same time consumed by an adult passion that made him feel both exhilarated and vulnerable. For so long he had had to look but not touch, think but not act. The old adage that it's better to journey than to arrive seemed at that moment very far from the truth. The tantalising longing for Ruth had been replaced by a feeling of joy and serenity that he never remembered experiencing before, even in the heady days of his youthful affairs. She brought out in him an old-fashioned chivalric desire to nurture and care for her, to shield her from danger. He acknowledged that such an attitude would be dismissed in the modern world as chauvinism, but there it was. His prevailing strengths of logic, pragmatism and emotional reserve (all essential qualities for a successful spy) had flown out of the window in the face of this overwhelming and transforming emotion.
"If you continue to look at me like that the rest of the guests will presume I'm wining and dining the local village idiot."
Harry, unrepentant replied
" This is the very ecstasy of love."
"Well may be, but please keep some sense of decorum. Remember your training? Observe and observed at all times? Besides which, English gentlemen are not meant to look quite so aroused at the dinner table."
The look of undiluted lust in Harry's eyes was muted by a glint of humour.
"Oh I'm no gentleman Ruth so don't expect me to play by the rules."
Harry picked up her hand and planted a kiss on her inside wrist that seemed to burn her flesh with its intensity.
"Do you fancy the sea bass or the bream?" Ruth said faintly as she pulled her hand back and pretended to study the menu. A sensual voice murmured back with an impudent inflection
"You can run but you cannot hide."
"No, and I can't eat either unless you stop behaving like a sex-starved adolescent and decide on your food."
"Spoil-sport" replied Harry in a mock-peevish voice and calling over the waiter, quickly and expertly ordered their lunch.
"Thank you sir, there will be a slight delay until we serve the first course perhaps Sir and Madam would care to take an aperitif on the terrace? I will call you when it is ready."
Harry took up the offer with alacrity, guiding Ruth through the French doors. Immediately after they had stepped onto the terrace he pulled her out of sight of the dining room and began to kiss her passionately, his hands threaded through her hair whilst his body pressed her against the wall, releasing a fragrant scent of jasmine from the climber that clung to the mellow red brick.
"Can't you two get a room? Oh of course, I forgot you already have."
Ruth and Harry sprung apart, both flustered and embarrassed to see an amused Adam leaning against the door. Harry hastily assumed his professional mask of composure.
"Yes?"
"You don't have to come all Section Head with me Harry. I may now have definite proof that you are human after all but I promise that I won't spread it around.."
Harry relaxed and smiled fondly at Adam
"Well you're life wouldn't be worth living if you did. Do you have any specific reason to be here or is this purely a social call?"
"Er yes. Tinkerbell has been put to sleep."
Ruth's eyes widened in alarm as she forgot her embarrassment and looked directly at Adam.
"By Tinkerbell, I presume you mean Catherine Palmerston? Good God Adam, don't tell me you've killed her?"
Adam and Harry both snorted with amusement
"Tempting but no, nothing so final. I just pointed out that this hotel was not conducive to a peaceful weekend and she is re-locating back to London."
Ruth looked suspiciously from Adam to Harry and back to Adam
"What exactly did you do to get her to leave? She's not the sort to give up easily."
Adam looked across at Harry who imperceptibly shook his head.
"Oh I just offered her a night at my place. Who in their right mind would turn down such an opportunity?"
This statement was accompanied by Adam striking a modelling pose with a twinkle in his eye and a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. Ruth looked crossly at them both
"You're both lying toads, but don't worry, I'll find out the truth in the end."
Harry sighed in resigned acknowledgement of the veracity of her declaration. He turned to Adam and shook his hand briefly.
"Thanks Adam. I appreciate this. I'll see you on Monday."
Adam smiled and on impulse reached out and patted Harry on the arm whilst kissing Ruth on the cheek
"I'm really happy for both of you. I can't think of anyone I'd rather see together. I'd love to stay and discuss wedding lists but I've got a hot date of my own waiting for me in the car."
Ruth touched by his words and aware that their situation must bring painful recollections of his relationship with Fiona to mind; reached out and pulling his head down kissed him back. Anyone looking at Harry at that moment would have caught a flash of jealousy as he watched Ruth embrace her tall achingly handsome colleague. Fortunately the waiter interrupted the embrace which Adam had been happy to accept. He had never looked upon Ruth as a potential date but he fully appreciated why Harry was so bewitched by her beauty and intellect and the sensation of her soft full lips on his cheek and the scent of her delicate perfume was beginning to evoke a sensual response. Oh well from the sublime to the predictable: Adam left Harry and Ruth to their lunch and strode back to Catherine Palmerston sulking in the passenger seat of his car.
"Finished giving your end-of-term report to Daddy? Thank God for that. I thought it was going to take you the rest of the day to extricate your tongue from Harry's bottom. Now can we go home?"
Adam sat down abruptly in the driver's seat and wrenched his seatbelt across his body. He predicted it was going to be a long journey with Catherine – alternating spiteful repartee with sexual overtures and whilst he was adept and experienced at the thrust and parry of professional seductions, he would quite frankly prefer to drive back in peace and quiet and spend the afternoon with Wes in the park. He was determined however to secure privacy for Harry and Ruth for the remainder of their break and to do that he would need to keep an eye on Catherine. The bribery of the CCTV footage of her at Harry's place might have been enough to make her back off and leave Coddingham Court, but he knew her capitulation was at best temporary. Harry had rejected Catherine's advances and a woman like Catherine did not take public humiliation lying down. She wanted revenge and sooner or later she would devise a method of causing trouble for him so if the mini-break was to stand any sort of chance then football in the park would have to wait.
Scene: the inside of Harry's CarFluffy cumuli clouds drifted across a blue sky as Harry's car cruised smoothly through the narrow leafy roads.
"I've been thinking I might buy myself a house in the country. A bolt hole from the pollution and pressures of work."
"Why?"
"I would have thought that was obvious."
"Well for most people perhaps, but not for you Harry. When would you get out to a country property? You scarcely see the inside of your London house as it is. You spend all day every day at work, weekends included. I ought to know, I'm as sad a case as you are, because most of the time I'm there as well."
Harry smiled across at her.
"Well perhaps it's time we both reassessed our priorities. The ratio of work to leisure time in our lives in imbalanced even for two spooks."
"You're living in cloud cuckoo land Harry. You can't take your foot off the accelerator and even if you wanted to the job won't let you."
Ruth mimicked picking up a telephone:
"Hello oh yes, a major terrorist alert you said, well I'm sorry I can't make it I'm pruning my petunias."Harry chuckled
"Change doesn't happen unless you make it. There are a number of properties in this area that might be suitable, I would ideally prefer something by the coast with a boat, but I agree that would be an impracticable distance from Thames House. Would you mind if we have a look at one or two?"
"If you wanted a companion for a house search you should have invited Kirstie Allsopp for the weekend, but no Harry, I don't mind looking at a few houses as long as it doesn't take all afternoon."
They drove through successive small picturesque villages and down winding country lanes until Ruth's head was spinning. They stopped at several old churches; took refreshment at a quaint timber-framed pub and discounted three or four properties with For Sale notices outside, that were either too close to the road or too ugly to be a viable proposition. Satiated on scones and cream and bewildered by the never-ending hedgerows and cottages that flashed past her window, Ruth, despite her best endeavours to stay alert felt her eyelids close. Thus she was not aware of the direction they were taking, indeed not aware that the car had stopped moving until Harry's lips met hers.
"Wake up sleepy head, there's a house I'd like you to look at."
Ruth opened her eyes crossly
"Harry, I was enjoying that sl…… Oh my God, I don't believe it! How did you know where it was?"
Ruth's hand flew to her mouth as she gazed through the windscreen at her grandparents old home.
"I have you file remember Ruth."
Ruth sat transfixed,
"Yes but it doesn't go into that much detail – I took a peek at it after you used it to manipulate me."
"I didn't manipulate you Ruth. I just encouraged you to utilise your past history with Angela to our advantage."
"Pure semantics. Are you sure you haven't missed your true vocation Harry? With you talent for evasion and half truth you would be a perfect politician."
"Now you're just being insulting. Come on let's look around."
"We can't just barge into someone's house like this Harry."
"It's alright, I checked, the owner is away for the weekend."
Harry got out of the car and opened the door for a reluctant Ruth. He took her firmly by the hand and led her up a brick-paved pathway to a door that lay in shadow beneath an open wooden porch. The property was set back from the road and screened by mature trees and shrubbery. It was constructed of the same mellow brick as Cotterham Court and dated from the same mid-C17th period. An abundant display of old-fashioned pink roses climbed over the walls that flanked the porch and their scent hung in the air as Harry brought out a long thin metal tool and neatly picked the lock. Ruth was outraged:
"We can't break into someone's house like this Harry, without a good reason."
Harry ignored her protestations and led her into the interior.
"We have a good reason. You're going to take a trip back down memory lane. Now then, are you going to stand there all day or are you going to show me around?"
Ruth decided that as Harry was so determined to violate the owner's privacy, the best option was to go round and get out as quickly as possible. She led him through successive rooms with beamed low ceilings, wide oak floorboards and bressumered fireplaces. Little had changed structurally since her grandparents had lived there, but the place felt empty with only the minimal amount of furniture needed to cover basic needs – a few rugs scattered on the floors and the odd painting on the wall. No personal touches, no photographs and certainly none of the clutter that had greeted her whenever she had arrived there all those years ago. Ruth turned impassioned to Harry
"Typical of the weekender, no soul, no commitment. These are the very people who are destroying village life – stocking up at their city supermarkets, whizzing down for a quick touchy-feely encounter with the countryside and then buggering off back to their sleek Canary Wharf flats."
"Isn't that just a teeny weeny bit stereotyping." Glancing at her face however Harry recognised the signs of a full-blown diatribe in the making and hastily decided to head her off:
"On the other hand I do see your point. So shall we see what the kitchen of the typical absentee-owner looks like?"
Ruth stood in the large flag-stoned kitchen and gazed with tear-filled eyes at the old cream Aga that was still in situ.
"I hope this isn't upsetting for you Ruth."
"No no, I only have happy memories of being here. My grandparents both lived to a good age and died quietly in their sleep, you couldn't ask for a better end. It's just ….you know… thinking back to when they lived here. I'm sure it's the classic rose-tinted spectacles scenario but life felt so secure then – I felt I had a home, that I belonged somewhere. I miss it, not just this house but the sense of belonging, of being protected."
Harry replied softly
"When I was a child I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man I put away childish things."
Ruth smiled back
"Yes I know, but it's also good to escape back into childhood once in a while. Anyway shall we go into the garden."
"Ah yes, the focus of your childhood days as I recall. I'm afraid I can't guarantee too many buzzing bees at this time of year."
The old fashioned garden of lawns flanked by beds of long-stemmed fragrant flowers and roses gave out on a breath-taking view of the South Downs. Harry came up behind Ruth and put his arms around her waist and nuzzled his face into her shoulder.
"I can see why you loved this place so much."
He paused and turned her around to face him.
"I want To say something Ruth. I know we've only just acknowledged our feelings for each other, but if we're honest we'd admit that we've felt like this for longer than it was good for either of us to keep suppressed. So, anyway, I feel as if we've had a relationship or at least a commitment, not just now, but for a very long time."
Ruth squeezed his arm encouragingly and said quietly
"I know Harry, but if this is leading to some sort of proposal, it's too soon; there are too many obstacles, we both know that."
"Damn the obstacles, but no Ruth - well I do have a proposal, but not of marriage; well that is to say I have every intention of asking but not here and now."
Harry stroked her face and kissed her softly
"I have a confession to make. I've brought you here under false pretences. I didn't need to get the owner's permission because actually I am the owner."
Ruth's eyes widened in surprise and anger
"What the hell do you mean you're the owner?"
"I er, I saw the cottage advertised when I was browsing through the Country Life magazine a few weeks ago, I liked the look of it and when I rang up for details I recognised that it was the same address as your grandparents house."
"I still haven't bottomed out how you know where my grandparents lived; but never mind that for now. Why precisely did you buy it?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably under her attack.
"I liked the look of the cottage as I said and I fell in love with the view when I came to see the property." Here Harry's voice lowered
"I was already in love with one of it's previous occupants and it seemed a fortuitous buy."
Ruth, having calmed down after the initial shock of his declaration replied
"So this whole mini-break was just a ruse to reveal what you'd done?"
"Well not exactly. Oliver Mace did lean on the DG to get rid of me for a few days – I suspect so that he could tie up some of his murkier loose ends without me looking over his shoulder and I desperately wanted some time alone with you; but yes, it did cross my mind that if I booked a place around this area that the opportunity might arise to bring you here."
"Well I'm here. So what do you want me to do – lie in the grass and pretend to be seven again or congratulate you for being a devious bastard again?"
Harry's reply was quiet and hesitant
"I want you to love me Ruth and I would like you to share this place with me. Somewhere we can come away from the demands of the Service and snooping eyes. Just you and me and the petunias."
Ruth smiled back at him, unable to sustain her anger.
"There aren't any petunias here Harry, but it's a very sweet generous idea. I'm sorry I was crochety, I'm not very good with surprises."
"That's alright, you ought to know me by now, opposition only makes me doubly determined to win the argument."
Harry sat down on the mossy lawn and pulled Ruth down next to him. She lay in his arms with her head resting against his chest as they both gazed up at the sky and relaxed in the silence.
"I do agree with your family, this is a perfect place for children to play."
Ruth pulled his head down towards hers
"You, Harry Pearce, are putting the cart way, way before the horse. We'll think about our long term future only after we've decided on what colour to re-paint the lounge."
Harry groaned his protest before he was silenced by the feel of her lips fusing to his and her fingers opening the buttons of his shirt.
Finished at last! – So much for making this a short fic, although I must admit I will miss Catherine. I'm off to Hungary for a couple of weeks (plenty of postcard opportunities!) so please leave plenty of reviews for this last chapter and indeed the whole fic and just maybe I might be encouraged to embark on another when I return.(On the other hand if the thought fills you with dread then now is the opportunity to put a stop to further efforts).