The Organization (41 page)

Harriet found Charlotte at the kitchen table, her shirtsleeves rolled up, her hair down and tousled.  She was sipping tea.  “Chamomile,” she said by way of a greeting.  She must have noticed her eyes on her cup.  “Would you like some?”

Harriet shook her head no and walked over to the table.  Charlotte stood and hugged Harriet close.  When Harriet felt her exhalation, felt her relax into the embrace, she let go.  “Mind if I sit?” Harriet asked.

“No, please do,” she said.

Harriet tried to make her voice sound gentle and not accusatory as she said, “I talked with Nick Clutterbuck today.”

Charlotte looked down at her cup of tea and replied, “I was going to tell you.”

“I wish you had talked to me about it first – before you resigned,” Harriet told her, willing away the hint of anger that was creeping into her voice.

“It wouldn’t have made any difference, Harriet.  I’ve made up my mind.”

“About the job?” Harriet asked.

“About… everything.  I’m leaving.”  She pushed her teacup aside and Harriet saw how her eyes were watery and concerned.  “I’ve been sitting on an offer from the University of Edinburgh for a research position, and I’ve decided to take it.  My supervising officer has already approved the move.”  She tapped her forearm where the microchip was implanted and added, “I guess they can monitor me from up north, if they need to.”

“Edinburgh,” Harriet repeated.  “How prestigious.”

“You know I don’t care about that.  But it’s a good, solid position.  And I need to go someplace new.”

“I’d say it’s someplace very old, actually,” Harriet quipped, unable to help herself.  It was easier to try to make light of the situation than to confront it.

“I need to walk down streets and not worry about seeing Geoff or Paul – ”

“They’re probably long gone, Charlie,” Harriet said quietly.

“Then I need to walk down the street and not think about it as… as that street with the café with the croissants that Maggie used to like.  Or that street where the police stopped me and called me a foreigner.  Or… or that street where Daniel and I rode our bicycles, furiously trying to get to the Bird’s Nest, although I didn’t know it yet that Thomas was there and rapidly losing blood, that you and he and been attacked.  Hell, I didn’t even know that such a place existed, much less what it was called or what I would find there.”

“I understand, Charlie.  But there will be always be new memories, good and bad, in any place that you live.”

Charlotte reached across the table and touched Harriet’s hand.  “I know.  That’s why I want you to come with me.  Come make new memories with me, in Edinburgh.”

Harriet shook her head and said, “Charlie… I can’t.  I have responsibilities here.  Besides, you don’t really want that.”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Harriet,” she said.

A small, bitter laugh escaped Harriet.  “Charlie, if you only knew the half of it… I don’t think you’d want me anywhere near you.”

“Tell me the half of it then.”  Charlotte’s eyes regarded Harriet seriously.

Harriet looked across the table at the woman whom she had defended as being stronger than others gave her credit for being.  Why, then, was she trying to protect her from the truth?  Was she trying to protect Charlotte or was she really trying to protect herself?

Harriet pulled her hand away, not wanting to wait for Charlotte to do it first.  Harriet said, “I slept with Naomi James.”

“I know,” Charlotte replied.

“How?  Did Erin tell you?” Harriet asked, her voice going up an octave.

Charlotte bowed her head for a moment before responding, “It was part of why we fought a few weeks ago.  She thought I should know what you did.  I thought… that it wasn’t her secret to share.”

“I see,” was all Harriet could say.

“I thought you might have mentioned something after I went to that meeting, after I saw… Joanna.”  Her voice quieted at the mention of Joanna.

“Yes, I remember what you said to her,” Harriet said.  “I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner.  I didn’t want you to know.”

“Clearly,” Charlotte replied.

“I didn’t want you to think less of me for what I did,” Harriet admitted.

“For what you did for me,” she said, correcting Harriet.  “I could never think less of you for what you’ve done for me.”

“And for what I’ve done for the organization, or for myself?” Harriet asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Charlie… I appreciate how understanding you’re being, but there are some things that are, I think, beyond your ability to forgive.  Things that I don’t think you need to know.”  Her heart felt heavy, knowing what she would likely have to confess to Charlotte.

“Like what happened to Joanna?” she asked, her voice low.

“Yes,” Harriet replied.

“How did she die?” Charlotte asked, her gaze feeling to Harriet like she could see right into her soul.  “I imagine you had Thomas kill her.”

Harriet could feel that she was sweating.  She wanted another drink – and not some cup of chamomile tea but a real drink, a double scotch at the least.  She replied, “I did it myself.  I looked her in the eye and I did it myself.”

Charlotte averted her eyes momentarily, plainly uncomfortable.  She asked, “Was it necessary?”

Harriet hesitated before responding, “I thought so.  I still think so.  I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”

“Not even because you needed revenge?” she asked, although her voice wasn’t unkind.

Harriet replied, “That wasn’t why.”

Charlotte sat back in her chair.  A long moment passed.  She asked, “What else?”

“What else what?” Harriet asked in return.

“What else should I know about you?”

“Isn’t that enough?” Harriet asked, bewildered.

“Is there more to know?” Charlotte asked, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.

Harriet shook her head and finally said, “No.  That’s it.”  She spread her fingers out on the table in front of her.  She said, “That’s all there is to know.  I’m an open book.”

The corner of Charlotte’s mouth tugged upward into a crooked smile.  She said softly, “I doubt you could ever be an open book.”

Harriet looked at her, wondering how she could be so calm in the face of everything she had revealed to her.  Charlotte reached out and took Harriet’s hands in hers.  Her thumb softly brushed over Harriet’s fingers, and Harriet wondered if her palm felt sweaty to Charlotte.

“Come with me, Harriet.  I’m leaving tomorrow.  You can sort out everything from Edinburgh.  I think as much as I need a fresh start, you need one even more.”

“I can’t,” Harriet said, her heart feeling like it was breaking.  “I’m sorry, Charlie.”

The hint of a smile was gone from Charlotte’s face as she replied, “I understand.” 

Charlotte’s thumb stilled and she withdrew her hand.  Harriet stood from the table and walked the one and a half steps over to her.  She gently lifted Charlotte’s chin up towards her as she leaned down and kissed her.  She felt Charlotte reach up to pull her closer, and so Harriet moved away, turning and walking quickly across the kitchen and out Erin’s front door.

#

As Harriet entered her temporary office, Anna looked up from her desk at her.  “I’d have thought you’d be changed by now,” she said.

“Sorry?” Harriet asked, confused.

“The memorial service is in an hour.  Or aren’t you going?” Anna asked cautiously.  She had picked up on how Harriet had been moody and distracted lately.

Harriet squeezed her eyes closed, and replied, “I forgot that was tonight.”  In the three days since Charlotte had left, everything had mostly been a scotch-induced blur.  Maybe she was lost in self-pity, but all she could think about was how she had had such a short time with Charlotte since she was released from prison.  Too short, and now she was gone again.

“I thought you might have.”  Anna jerked her chin toward behind the door.  “I’ve been to the cleaners for you and picked up your black suit.”

“You’re the best, Anna,” Harriet said, and saw how she blushed in response.

Harriet took her suit into her office and closed the door.  Her cream-colored, sleeveless blouse and strand of pearls would work well with the black jacket and black skirt.  She was glad she had settled on a pair of black heels that morning instead of the turquoise ones she had considered.

Less than an hour later, she was seated in Westminster Abbey amidst many other people, most of whom she didn’t know.  Given the Abbey’s capacity of a mere 2,000 people, attendance was selective.  Leadership from both Houses were invited to attend, as well as those individuals who had lost someone from their personal staff, but the majority of the crowd was composed of family members of those who had been slain.

Harriet looked up at the 18
^th
Century stained glass window, around at the crystal chandeliers and striking gothic arches, and felt it was a suitable resting place for those they had lost.  The next morning, their ashes would be buried in the Abbey.

The service was filled with music, ceremony, and speeches.  Harriet listened to the words about duty and sacrifice, feeling the sentiments weigh heavily on her heart.  When the service ended and the organ sounded again, she began filing out of the Abbey with everyone else, wanting to be lost in the crowd.

Her eyes caught when she saw a face that looked so much like Dillon yet perhaps thirty years older than he had been.  Harriet presumed this was Dillon’s father, but she hesitated, feeling like she shouldn’t approach him.  She watched as he and a woman – Dillon’s mother, perhaps – walked somberly out of the Abbey.

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Erin sipped her beer.

Harriet sat across the table at the Crown & Cushion.  Harriet thought about how Erin was attractive, bright, loyal to her friends, and single.  They had never talked about whether Erin went on dates or was wholly focused on making her career a success, but Harriet thought it was a pity that she seemed to be alone in life.  Harriet hoped that Erin would, someday, find someone.

“We never really seem to have a good time here, you and me.  I don’t know why I keep agreeing to meet you here,” Harriet said lightly.

“Because you miss her, and I’m your connection to her,” Erin said.  She glanced at her glass of water and asked, “You’re not going to get a real drink?”

“Not tonight,” Harriet replied simply.  She tried to resist sighing, and she asked, “How is she?”

“Fine,” Erin said.  “She’s settling in.  I think her new position is turning out to be really good for her.”

“Is she… making friends?” Harriet asked.

“You mean, is she seeing anyone?  Harriet, it’s only been six weeks.  I know if you’re anything like me, it probably seems like longer, but still. Just six weeks.  I don’t think she’s quite gotten over you yet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“The sooner she does, the better,” Harriet said, feeling vulnerable at how easily Erin saw through her question.

“Don’t be so down on yourself.  It doesn’t become you,” Erin replied, taking another drink.  “I can’t believe you let her leave.”

This time, Harriet did sigh.  She took a long, hard look at Erin before replying.  “Why would I have stopped her?  What on earth is left for her here?” She asked, growing frustrated with Erin, or perhaps with herself.

“Besides you?” Erin asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” Harriet said flatly.  She wiped the condensation off the side of her glass with her thumb.  She idly wondered why they always sat outside when it was so blasted hot all the time.

“I don’t know.  What’s left for you?” she asked.

“There’s my job, for one,” Harriet replied.

“So is your job more important to you than Charlie?” she asked.

Harriet could feel how her face betrayed her, how she had failed to maintain her confident mask, the one that told the world that she had thought everything through and had no self-doubt.  “No,” Harriet admitted. “But I’ve made a commitment.”

“So un-make it,” Erin said.

“It’s not that easy.  And besides, Members of Parliament aren’t allowed to resign,” Harriet said. She wished she could explain it to Erin, to make her understand where she was coming from.

“Bullocks.  I know there’s a workaround for that.  Don’t they appoint you to some paid position – Crown Steward of something-and-such – and then use that as a means to give up your seat?”

“Did you learn that in your legal training?” Harriet asked.

“I picked it up somewhere, I suppose,” she replied with a small smile.

“Well, I have to get back to the office,” Harriet said, standing up.  She always found an excuse to leave when the conversation got a little too close to home.

Erin, too, stood up, and hugged her.  “Don’t be a stranger,” she said.

#

Harriet was spending more time out of the office than ever before.  She took a long stroll one morning when she should have been preparing for a committee meeting, stopping for a coffee and continuing her walk through St. James’s Park.  Eventually, she decided to sit for a while on a bench to watch others as they walked by, generally visibly perspiring from the heat but also seeming to enjoy the fresh air. Well, as fresh as the air could be in a city so large and dense. Harriet wondered if Charlotte ever sat and people-watched.  She thought it was probably something that would appeal to her.

Before too long, Harriet caught sight of two people who she recognized immediately even though she had only seen them once before.  The man and woman walked slowly arm-in-arm, looking as though they had aged significantly in the weeks since the memorial service.  Harriet knew that the experience of loss could do that to a person.

Harriet took a deep breath, knowing that she needed to approach them.  She stood up from the bench, coffee in hand, and walked over to catch up with the pair.

“Mr. and Mrs. Macpherson?” She said questioningly, not wanting to startle them.

They stopped walking and turned to her, looking apprehensive.  “Yes, may we help you?” the woman asked.

“My name is Harriet Spencer.  Dillon was completing an internship with me.  I didn’t mean to worry you, but I had seen you at the memorial service and then when I saw you again today…” Harriet trailed off, realizing she didn’t actually know what to say to them, but rather she merely felt compelled to talk to them.  “I wanted to tell you how very sorry I am for your loss.  Please accept my sincerest condolences.”