The Organization (38 page)

“We are,” Harriet said, crossing over to her and pulling her into a tight embrace, needing to hold Charlotte against her to be reassured that she was safe and real and corporeal.  “Charlie, I was so scared,” Harriet told her.

Harriet felt how tense Charlotte’s body was as she allowed Harriet to wrap her arms around her.  She was breathing shallowly and as Harriet leaned back to look at her, her hands resting on her shoulders, she observed how oddly unexpressive her face was.

Harriet looked from one eye of hers to the other and said in a low voice, “You were so… convincing, with Joanna.  I could almost believe that you were telling her the truth.”

Harriet moved back a foot or two to give her some space. Having seen how well she could obfuscate the truth, she began to panic and doubt, wondering if in fact everything had been an act and that Charlotte had been lying to her all along since being released from prison.  But as quickly as that irrational thought entered her mind, she dismissed it.  She watched Charlotte’s eyes well up with tears, her face reddening and her bottom lip beginning to shake.  Heavy tears fell from her eyes and Harriet noticed how her hands were balled up into fists.  She wondered if the contact lenses were crushed in her hand, not caring if they were.

In an unsteady voice Charlotte said, “I wanted to kill her, Harriet.  I thought… that I might.  But I just kept it inside.”

Harriet reached for her hands, her fingers wrapping around Charlotte’s knuckles.  “It’s all right, my darling.”

“I can’t go back there,” she barely managed to say.

“No, you don’t have to,” Harriet said, pulling her close again.  “You never have to go back there again.”  She smelled the alcohol on Charlotte from Zoe’s flat, combined with the smell of stale, nervous sweat.  She held the back of Charlotte’s head, burying her fingers in her hair, as she murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Chapter Sixty-Four

For the next two days, Charlotte called off sick from work.  Harriet knew better than to question her about it, to suggest that she ought to go to work to get her mind off things.  Perhaps Charlotte needed to deal with things in her own way.

Harriet went to the debriefing with her inner circle without Charlotte.  When she returned home on the second evening and found Charlotte still in her pajamas, she told her she should get dressed.

“For what?” she asked, not moving from the sofa, a blanket pulled across her lap and one of Harriet’s old books resting atop it.

“We have a meal to prepare,” Harriet told her.  “I suppose you could cook in that outfit if you wished, but I do believe you should put on something more appropriate for when Erin arrives.”

“Erin is coming over tonight?” she asked.

“Yes,” Harriet replied, hoping she wouldn’t be upset.

“Did you invite her over to rouse me from my anxiety-induced stupor?” Charlotte asked, a glint in her eyes.

Harriet walked over to the sofa and sat down next to her, angling toward her and crossing her legs at her ankles.  “Is that what you call this?”

Charlotte gave a shrug and then a small smile.

“Actually, we settled on dinner tonight before all this… before the other night.  But if you want me to cancel, I will.”  Harriet didn’t want to cancel.

Charlotte leaned over and kissed her softly on her lips.  “No.  I’ve been thinking about things since you brought up the idea of having her over for dinner.  And I appreciate what you’re trying to do.”

“Good,” Harriet said, pleasantly surprised by Charlotte’s reaction.  She resisted smiling too broadly as she said, “There’s time for a shower.”

“For me, or for us together?” she asked, as her fingers reached and unbuttoned the top of Harriet’s blouse.

Harriet led her upstairs to the shower, shedding clothes along the way.

#

Erin arrived wearing a charcoal-colored suit and accompanied by a bottle of wine and an apology.  “I meant to go home and change, but I’m afraid I ran late at work tonight.”

“If you’re uncomfortable, you’re welcome to change into something of mine,” Harriet said, and added with a wry smile, “I have a dress or two that you could wear.”  She hoped Erin would understand her statement as the joke she intended it to be.

She felt relief as Erin laughed and said, “No, this is fine.  But thank you.”

“Charlie is in the kitchen, but everything should be ready shortly,” Harriet said, lingering in the foyer.

Erin touched her arm and said in a voice too quiet for Charlotte to hear from the kitchen, “Thank you for this, Harriet.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Harriet replied.  She was about to turn to join Charlotte in the kitchen when her conscience got the better of her.  She looked at Erin and said, “You should know that it’s been a difficult few days for Charlie.”

“Because of her job, or what?” Erin asked.

Harriet shook her head and replied, “No, not exactly.”

“It’s the organization, isn’t it?” she asked.

“She saw someone from her past – our past – and it was upsetting,” Harriet said.  “It was just someone she would’ve preferred not to have seen.”

“And I suppose that’s all you’re willing to tell me?” Erin asked.

Harriet nodded and replied, “I hope you understand.”  She wished she could tell Erin more but she couldn’t take any chances.  She didn’t want Erin knowing anything about Joanna or her splinter group.

“I know better than to argue,” Erin said, looking less than pleased.

Harriet headed into the kitchen and hugged Charlotte from behind as she ladled the soup into a serving bowl.  She kissed the side of Charlotte’s neck and then said, “I’m sure Erin is looking forward to seeing you.  Why don’t you go out and chat while I finish up in here?”

Charlotte kissed her and handed her the ladle.  She flashed a smile as she disappeared into the dining room.  Harriet considered pouring herself a glass of scotch, but decided against it.

#

After Erin left that evening, Charlotte played the piano for a while as Harriet washed and dried the dishes.  She enjoyed listening to Charlotte play and knew that it relaxed her.  When she finished up the dishes, she threw the dishtowel on the counter and walked out to the sitting room to listen to the music.

Charlotte finished the song and then stopped playing, smiling at Harriet when she approached the piano.

“Don’t stop.  I was enjoying listening,” Harriet told her.  She played much better than Harriet did, but even though Harriet was competitive by nature, she didn’t mind being outplayed by Charlie.

“My fingers need a rest,” Charlotte replied.

“Oh, all right,” Harriet said with an exaggerated sigh, having a seat on the nearby sofa.  “Did you have a nice time with Erin tonight?”

“Yes, it was really good to see her, to mend things with her,” she said.  She smiled but then averted her eyes.

“But?” Harriet asked.  She wanted so badly for the night to be a success and for Charlotte to go back to her normal self.

“Why do you think there’s a ‘but’?”

Harriet leaned back into the cushions of the sofa and said, “Because I know you, Charlie Parker.”

Charlotte laughed a little, but her laughter faded and left behind a more ruminating look.  “Erin was my friend for a long, long while before I went to prison.  She stuck with me through… Maggie, through everything.  And even during these past twelve years, she didn’t give up on me.”  She brushed her fingers over the piano keys in a distracted way.

“But?” Harriet asked again.

“But I feel like there are certain things that she’s just never going to understand.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Charlie,” Harriet said.  “Maybe she could surprise you.”  Even as she said it, she thought about how she wasn’t willing to tell Erin about Charlotte’s encounter with Joanna, and yet at the same time she felt as though she should defend Erin.

“I don’t think she could ever understand what happened – with Joanna, with Daniel…” Charlotte said, her voice trailing off.

Harriet got up from the sofa and walked over to Charlotte’s side.  She said, “She didn’t know them.  But that doesn’t mean she can’t relate to the feeling – to feeling angry.  Or sad.”  Harriet paused, not wanting to say the wrong thing, before adding gently, “She was Maggie’s friend, too.  So… she understands how it feels to lose someone.”

Charlotte’s expression was dark as she replied, “But does she understand how it feels for someone to have stolen twelve years of your life?  Does she know how it feels to want to kill someone?  I mean, really wanting to do it?”  She held her arms at the elbows, cradling them, and said, “I didn’t like feeling like how I did the other night.”

“I know, Charlie.  I don’t want you to have to feel like that.”  Harriet thought about how Charlotte was so introverted and analytical, but she knew from when she watched her play piano, or when they made love, that a great depth of emotion lay beneath her quiet exterior.  On occasion, Harriet would catch a glimpse of that private inner life of hers. 

She changed the topic back, saying, “And I’m sure that Erin doesn’t want you to feel like that either.  She wants you to be happy.”

“Well, I’d like to be happy, too.” Charlotte said.

Harriet tried not to react outwardly as she asked as lightly she could, “Does that mean you’re not happy now?  Here, with me?”

Her eyebrows knitted as she replied, “Harriet, it’s just been a lot to take in.  But I want to be happy.  And I want us to be happy together.  I think we can be.”

Harriet leaned over to where she sat at the piano bench and kissed her lips softly.  “I think so too,” she said with what she hoped would be a reassuring smile.

Charlotte pulled Harriet down to sit beside her on the bench as she kissed Harriet more deeply.

Chapter Sixty-Five

Harriet smelled smoke in the early morning air before she saw anything, before she noticed that the sidewalks were more crowded than normal and that the flow of pedestrian traffic was almost all moving toward her.  Then she registered that people looked panic-stricken and, finally, she began to hear the reverberating sounds of multiple alarms.

In spite of how her ears begged her to move away from the sounds, Harriet moved closer in, managing to work her way through the crowd near enough to reach the police barricade at Parliament Square.  She flagged down a police officer and raised her voice above the noise to say, “I need to get through.”

“Sorry, but this area is closed off,” he said.

“What happened?” Harriet asked, but the police officer was occupied with trying to keep other people back.

A frantic voice to her right said, “They’re saying someone set off a bomb.”

“A bomb?” Harriet asked, feeling breathless while looking at Portcullis House – her building – and the smoke pouring out of the top, blackening the sky above it.

“I bet it was in the Tube,” someone speculated aloud.

“No, that building is bomb proof.  There’s no way it could come from underground,” someone else said.

“I heard it was set off in the inner courtyard,” another person replied.

Harriet had no patience for the idle conjecture, the expertise of the ignorant.  She knew that she should find a way to check in with her staff, but she felt a divided loyalty, wanting to head straight to Bermondsey Street to see what Rhys and the others knew.  She began to push her way back through the crowd to go to Bermondsey Street when she thought about Anna, the long hours she often put in for Harriet, and her young children, and Harriet knew she needed to fulfill her duties as a public servant, first and foremost.

#

By the time Harriet arrived at Bermondsey Street late that night, the whole city had been humming for hours with speculation about the bombing.  She was mindful of her surroundings as she approached the row house.  She looked up at the four stories of windows and saw that the windows on the first three levels were dark.  She keyed into the building, not knowing whom she would find on the top floor.  Her head felt full and heavy from digesting the reports coming out of Westminster, and she sorely wanted a drink.

She heard tense voices locked in debate as she walked up the final flight of stairs to the fourth floor meeting space, where Thomas, Rhys, Marta, Ethan, Zoe, and Charlotte all sat around the table.  Charlotte jumped up from her chair immediately upon seeing Harriet, relief washing over her features.  Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, errant strands loose around her weary face.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Thomas snapped at Harriet.  “We had no idea if you were even alive.”

“It hasn’t exactly been an easy day for me,” Harriet replied, glaring at Thomas even though she knew his outburst came from a place of concern.  “Give me five minutes.  Please,” she said, heading toward her office.

“Harriet, we need to talk with you –” Rhys said.

“I need five minutes.”  Harriet walked directly to her office and heard the footsteps of someone behind her.  She turned and told Charlotte to close the door behind her.  After she’d done so, Charlotte pulled her into an embrace.  The warmth of Charlotte’s body soothed Harriet and for a moment she was caught up in needing to hold onto something – someone – solid.

“I was worried,” Charlotte said.

“I know,” Harriet replied.

“You could have come sooner,” Charlotte said, and as with Thomas, Harriet could hear that there was anger boiling under the surface.

“No, I couldn’t have.  I was in emergency meetings… debriefings… and I had to identify a body.”  Harriet reluctantly moved away from her.  She went to her desk and pulled out her bottle of scotch, pouring herself a nearly full glass and then taking a long drink.  “My intern, Dillon, died.  They say it was instantaneous, but it’s not much comfort.  He was just a kid.”

Charlotte bowed her head, looking chastised, and said quietly, “I’m sorry.”  She then looked back up at Harriet and said, “But you need to hear what Rhys and the others have to say.”  Her jaw clenched tightly.

Something in the way that Charlotte looked at her stopped Harriet from questioning her.  She left her scotch on her desk as she brushed past Charlotte to return to the table where the others were.  She stood at the near end of the table with her hands on her hips.  Her feet ached from wearing her high-heeled shoes for too many hours, but she didn’t feel like sitting down.  She heard Charlotte follow her out of her office and she watched as Charlotte walked past and took her seat.