The Organization (34 page)

“With everything that happened twelve years ago, he returned to London.  I needed to surround myself with the few people whom I could trust.”  Harriet thought about how she could count those people on one hand.  With Charlotte in prison and Daniel dead, Harriet had lost two of the most important people in her life.

“Sounds sensible enough,” Charlotte said with some guardedness.

“We were still married.  Technically, we still are.  And after a while, he moved back in.  I… needed protection.  And companionship.  And he wanted something more.  He wanted love.” 

“And did you give him love?” Charlotte asked, stirring the soup absently.

“I tried,” Harriet said quietly.  “We each had… flings with other people…” she said. “But eventually it came out that he wanted more.  He wanted us to be a real couple.  I didn’t, and so I ended things.”

Charlotte turned to look at her and asked, “When?”

Harriet felt anxious.  “Recently.”

“Because of me?” Charlotte asked.

“Well –” Harriet started to say.

“Does he think you strung him along?  That he was second best – good enough if you couldn’t have me? 
Did
you string him along?”  Charlotte’s anger was surfacing again.

“Charlie, it’s not like that.”  Harriet ran her fingers through her hair.  “I don’t know, honestly.  It’s just – all the events surrounding your release helped clarify my feelings, or rather my lack of those kinds of feelings for him.  I didn’t intend to string him along.”

“That doesn't mean you didn’t do it.”

“I know,” Harriet admitted. 

“You’ve never struck me as the kind of woman who’s out of touch with her feelings,” Charlotte said.

“Maybe that’s because, with you, I’ve never had any doubt about my feelings,” Harriet told her. 

Charlotte’s expression softened.  Harriet was once again struck by how right it felt to have her here, and she summoned her courage to speak her next words. 

“Listen, I know this is probably lousy timing, but I’ve been wanting to ask you something.  I’d like you to consider moving in with me.”

Charlotte gave an abrupt laugh and said, “As if Thomas doesn’t have enough reason to resent me.”

“He doesn’t resent you.  He might be a bit jealous, but he cares about me, and he knows how I feel about you.  And… we’re divorcing, finally.  He knows there’s no romantic future for him and me.  Besides, there are practical reasons for you to move in – you can’t live with Erin forever and I know your new job hardly pays anything.”

“I’ll think about it,” Charlotte replied.  She glanced at Harriet and said, “I appreciate the offer.  I just need a bit of time to consider it.”

“I understand,” Harriet said.

Charlotte was silent, turning off the burner and moving the soup to a trivet on the counter.  “Wouldn’t that be the kiss of death for your career, your reputation?  If I moved in with you?  I’m an American, an ex-con.”

Harriet wasn’t sure how much to tell her.  She worried that if she told Charlotte the wrong thing, she wouldn’t want to move in, but she knew she had to be honest with her.  “There are ways of burying that kind of information – your prison record.  And no one would really care these days about where you were born.  At least, it wouldn’t be an issue for my career.  It might even make me seem more progressive, politically.”

“Hmm,” Charlotte said noncommittally.  “I know times have changed, politically.  We did get to follow the news in prison, you know.”

“And… I’d like it, Charlie, if you were to live here.”  Harriet wished she could express how much it would mean to her, but she felt oddly inhibited.  “Just think about it, will you?”

“I will,” Charlotte replied.

#

Harriet arrived at work to find a shiny young man in a suit sitting nervously near Anna’s desk.  He hopped up from his chair as soon as Harriet went through the doorway.

“Good morning, Anna,” Harriet said before glancing at the young man.

“Good morning, Ms. Spencer,” Anna responded.  “This is Dillon Macpherson, the new intern.”

Dillon stood and anxiously smoothed back his black hair, wiped his hand on his suit trousers and then, with a crooked, embarrassed smile, held out his hand to shake Harriet’s.  “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Spencer.”

Harriet shook his hand and replied, “Likewise, I’m sure.”  Harriet wondered if he was any older than twenty-one, perhaps twenty-two years old.

“What can I do for you this morning, Ms. Spencer?” he asked, looking ever so eager.

“Coffee, Dillon.  I would love a cup of coffee,” Harriet said, managing a smile.  “Go down the street to the café on the corner and bring me back a double espresso, will you?”

“Yes, right away,” he said, hurrying out of the office.

Once he was out of earshot, Anna said with a smile, “You know there will be a queue down the block.  He could have just gone down the hallway for your coffee.”

“I know.  I figured he needed some time to work out his nerves,” Harriet replied.

Anna shook her head and gave a small laugh.

When Dillon returned a half hour later, he happily presented the espresso to Harriet at her desk and then awaited his next assignment.

“Have a seat, Dillon,” she said to him, holding in a sigh.

“Yes, Ms. Spencer,” he replied, sitting across her desk from her.

“Tell me about yourself, Dillon.  Why did you want to be an intern?”  Harriet could see a flash of disappointment on his face, as though she were unfamiliar with his file.  “I know what you wrote in your application, but just tell me about yourself – your aspirations.”

Dillon talked for a while about his studies at university, how he perceived the political landscape to be evolving, and how his mother was involved in local politics.  She fought the urge to allow her attention to wander.  Dillon’s story was rather typical of most interns she had encountered.

“I was surprised in your application that you’re not a member of the Labour Party.  In fact, I saw that you have no political party affiliation,” Harriet said.

“Well, that’s not quite correct.  I mean, I appreciate the Labour Party.  I especially appreciate what MPs like you – Labour Co-operative Party MPs – are doing to help form coalitions with smaller, newer parties.”

Harriet could feel a spark of alarm ignite in the pit of her stomach.  “Which smaller, newer parties?”

“Well,” he said, sitting up straighter.  “I’ve been considering joining the Social Democratic Organization.  I wrote a little bit about it in my application.  I know they’re still somewhat controversial, but I think public support is slowly coming around.  I think, with the recognition that we need more international cooperation to continue to fight climate change, that parties favoring reunification – parties like the SDO – will gain more support.”

Harriet cursed inwardly.  How could she have missed that in his application?  Had she really been so distracted?  “Yes, I remember,” she lied.  Deciding to end the conversation there to give herself time to review his application again, she added, “I’d like you to ask Anna for a copy of the internship manual.  You should spend the rest of today reviewing it.”

Harriet could see that he was hoping for some more exciting assignment for the rest of today, but he dutifully agreed and left to talk to Anna.  She sighed and thought about how she was probably overreacting, that perhaps it was a good thing to have a young, eager intern who happened to be an SDO member – or at least a prospective member.  Maybe it was time.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

“This feels familiar,” Charlotte said with a wry smile.  She tucked the small brass key into the front pocket of her trousers. 

Harriet had given her a key to her house for the second time, but this time it wasn’t just for the convenience of Charlotte being able to let herself in when she wasn’t home.  This time she was moving in.

Harriet set Charlotte’s suitcase on the bench at the end of the bed and said, “I know you’re not completely convinced that this is the best idea.”  Charlotte looked like she was going to disagree, but she said nothing.  Harriet added, “But I really think we can make it work.”

“It’s not that I doubt the feelings between you and me, Harriet.  It’s just a lot of change in a short period of time,” Charlotte replied.  “It’s a huge transition – getting out of prison, starting to work again, and… seeing where this leads us, you and me.”

“I understand,” Harriet said.  She walked over to the closet and opened one of the doors.  “I cleared some room for you – for your things.”

Charlotte thanked her.  She then said, “Erin was upset to see me go.”

“I would have thought she’d be itching to get her space back to herself.  I’ve seen her flat – it’s not overly large,” Harriet said lightly.

Charlie shuffled toward her.  “So you thought she’d be happy that I’m moving in here?” she asked, her head cocked to one side.

Harriet studied her expression and then replied, eyebrows raised, “Well, no.  But I am surprised that she apparently told you about the little conversation she had with me about, well, you and me.”

“I didn’t know about that, actually.  But you’ve stopped mentioning her, and she gets this peculiar, concerned frown on her face whenever I mention you to her… so I figured at some point the two of you had a clash.”

Harriet’s chin dipped closer to her chest.  She replied, “I wouldn’t call it a clash.”

“So what happened?” Charlotte asked, maintaining eye contact.

“She was simply being your friend, trying to look out for you,” Harriet said evenly.  In spite of Erin’s harsh words, Harriet didn’t want to alienate Charlotte from her friend.

“What did she say to you?”

Harriet noticed in the bright light of the bedroom that Charlotte did indeed have fine lines near her eyes, lines that formed during these past twelve years.  She wondered if they were formed from smiling, from squinting at too many lines of text, or from squeezing her eyes tightly closed to try to forget where she was.

Harriet snapped herself out of her thoughts. “She wanted me to stop seeing you.”

Charlotte blinked a few times in rapid succession and looked away, her jaw clenching.

“Don’t be angry, Charlie,” Harriet told her, reaching out and touching her arm.

“Why would she want to keep you from me?” Charlotte asked with her brow furrowed.

“She just wants to keep you from getting hurt.  I told her about my role within the organization, and I think it scared her.  She just wants to protect you.”  Harriet stroked Charlotte’s arm with her thumb.

“That’s ridiculous.  When have you ever hurt me?”

“Charlie, if you had never met me…” Harriet started to say before her courage died out and she couldn’t complete the sentence.

“I’m glad I met you, Harriet,” Charlotte said, gazing intently into her eyes.

“But you’d have never have gone to prison,” Harriet said, finally completing the thought.

“I know,” Charlotte replied.  She kissed Harriet’s forehead gently.  When she looked at Harriet again, there was something darker in her expression.

“What are you thinking?” Harriet asked.

“I was just thinking about how Joanna has never been held accountable for what she did.  She’s just managed to slip through the cracks, to disappear to who knows where.  You know, I imagined her being caught – sometimes I’d imagine it was the police, other times I’d think about people from the organization, your bodyguards, finding her hiding in some dirty corner of some tiny room. I imagined such horrible, wonderful things being done.  I imagined her being tortured, and that kind of thought would make me feel better until it made me feel worse.”

Harriet’s lips parted but she didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have told you all that,” Charlotte said.

“It’s all right, darling,” Harriet said simply.  They were both quiet for a long moment before Harriet said, “I don’t think it’s so wrong that Erin wants to protect you.”

“What could I possibly need protection from?  What’s left?” Charlotte asked.

Harriet recalled with guilt how she had agreed to ask Charlotte about going to the meetings with Zoe – had she really agreed to ask Charlotte to be bait?  Harriet replied, “Me.”  She added, “I need to tell you something.”

Harriet moved out of her personal space, walking over to the bed and sitting gingerly on the edge.  She recounted the conversation she had had with Rhys – not the part about covering up Charlotte’s prison sentence, but only about Rhys’s suspicions that Charlotte would be more successful in drawing out Joanna.  Before she had a chance to voice her hesitation or to ask Charlotte anything, Charlotte interrupted.

“I’ll do it,” she said.

“No,” Harriet said more forcefully than she intended.

“I want to.  I
need
to, Harriet.  You have no idea how… powerless… I have felt.  This is a chance to do something.  How can you deny me that?”

As Charlotte spoke, Harriet realized she was every bit the monster that Erin must have imagined her to be, or at the very least she was foolish not to foresee the present outcome.  Of course Charlotte would want to go.  That was the very reason Harriet never should have mentioned it to her.  She never should have brought her back to the organization.  She looked at Charlotte’s flushed cheeks, her eyes glistening with anger and need, and Harriet knew she couldn’t stop her now.

#

Marta placed the contact lens case on the table and slid it over to Charlotte.  Rhys explained, “So these will allow us to see what you’re seeing.”

“And for sound?” Charlotte asked.

“Similar idea, but it’ll take a bit more finesse.  It’s best if someone else does it for you.  Basically it’s a tiny device that will go in one ear and rest against your eardrum.  It might be a tad uncomfortable at first,” Rhys answered.

“And for me?  Do you want me to go in bugged, too?” Zoe asked.

“Nothing for you,” Marta replied.  “They don’t seem that interested in you – no offense intended – and, besides, we’ve only got one set of eyes and ears.  Well, ear.”

Rhys added, “Just stick close to Charlie, if possible.”

“That’s no problem at all,” Zoe replied with a flirty grin.  Harriet noticed that Charlotte averted her eyes and moved to pour herself another cup of tea.