Charlotte glanced down at the table, apparently collecting her thoughts before she answered, “There were certain accusations that the police made that were patently untrue – things about poisoning the water supply. And there were other details that I admit didn’t seem–”
Erin interrupted, whispering something in Charlotte’s ear.
Charlie took a moment then said, “But no, I was not wrongfully imprisoned. And I regret the decisions I made that led to my imprisonment.”
The panel murmured among themselves and then Mr. Conroy asked, “How can we be sure that you pose no further risk to society?”
“With respect, I’ve severed all ties with those involved in the, well, terrorist group.” She had apparently realized it was in her best interest not to contest whether it was a terrorist group. “I have no desire to reconnect with any of those people, nor with that period of my life.” As Charlotte spoke, Harriet began to have the sinking feeling that that particular statement was intended for her. “Furthermore, I would agree to any monitoring devices, curfews, or geographic restrictions that this board would require of me.”
The panel asked Charlotte questions about the nature of her volunteering in the infirmary, whether she got on well with other prisoners, and where she would live if released. After a while, Mr. Conroy conferred with his fellow panelists before turning his attention to Erin and asking her to call her next witness.
Erin looked at her and said, “My next, and last, witness is Harriet Spencer, Member of Parliament and formerly a producer at the EBC.”
Mr. Conroy motioned for Harriet to proceed with her evidence.
“I appreciate the opportunity to be here today,” Harriet began. “As an EBC producer, I was working on behalf of our government to promote and protect the public good. And Charlie provided invaluable information that aided in our government’s cause and which I firmly believe helped to shepherd in this current era of reconciliation between our government and others.” All right, Harriet thought, enough with the lies and embellishments. Tell it straight.
Harriet continued, saying, “I knew Charlie during what I imagine was an intense and confusing time in her life. I could see that she was torn between the… terrorist group… and her desire to lead an uncomplicated, transparent life. I think she came to me because she and I believed in the same things, the same moral order. She was brave to have come to me. It opened her up to unimaginable repercussions from others, such as the would-be assassins.” Harriet paused, and looked at Mr. Conroy. “I don’t believe Charlie was ever a threat to the public. I’m only sorry, truly sorry, that I wasn’t able to protect her all those years ago.”
Mr. Soller, who had largely been silent, asked, “And why did none of this come to light twelve years ago?”
“The police questioned me and I gave the same evidence that I’m giving today but, as we all know, there was no trial,” Harriet replied.
Dr. Frank seemed to study Harriet as she asked, “Ms. Spencer, do you believe that it’s your role, either as a producer at the EBC or as a Member of Parliament, to protect people who attend meetings of terrorist groups?”
Harriet felt anger rising in her chest but she kept her expression impassive. “Dr. Frank, I believe in serving the public good. And the public good was being better served with Charlie on the outside.”
There were no further questions for Harriet, and again her gaze fell on Charlotte as Ms. Finley began her summation and reiterated her recommendation. Next it was Erin’s turn to do the same. As Erin was speaking, Charlotte finally looked at Harriet again. For a moment, Charlotte’s lips parted and Harriet felt as though she wanted to say something to her, but then Charlotte yet again looked away.
Mr. Conroy spoke quietly with his fellow panel members then announced to the room that no further contribution would be needed from them. They were to leave for the panel to privately deliberate their decision, which would be communicated to Charlotte within two weeks.
Ms. Finley left first and Naomi motioned for Harriet to follow. Harriet lingered in the hallway to watch as Charlotte, Erin, and Naomi left the hearing room. Erin was hugging Charlotte goodbye when a guard said to Harriet, “This way, please.” He held open the door that Harriet knew would lead away from Charlotte and out to the exit. She watched Charlotte for another moment, wishing she could take Erin’s place in that embrace.
As Harriet turned to go, Naomi walked over and took the door from the guard. “Come to mine tonight?” she asked quietly.
Harriet shook her head and responded, “Tonight isn’t good.”
“Please,” she said. She wasn’t imploring Harriet; she was telling her.
Harriet hesitated then said, “All right.” She headed for the exit.
#
Chapter Forty-Nine
That evening, as Harriet found herself deep into a bottle of scotch, she sent Naomi a diginote to tell her she wasn’t feeling well. She asked for a rain check. It was several days later when Naomi cashed that check.
Harriet’s intercom sounded as Anna announced, “Ms. Spencer, I have a Naomi James here to see you.” Harriet really needed to figure out a way to give Anna a raise; her voice revealed nothing, no hint of anything being out of the ordinary even though Harriet had had Anna research Naomi James’s background in detail.
Harriet hit the intercom button and replied, “Please show her in.”
Naomi entered, and Anna closed the door behind her. She said, “I’m sorry to bother you at work. It’s just… I wasn’t sure when I’d see you again.” She looked too serious.
Harriet didn’t know whether she should walk over and kiss her hello, or how she should handle the situation, so she remained planted in her chair. “It’s fine, really, that you’re here.”
Naomi sat across her desk from Harriet and allowed her gaze to roam around the office. “So this is what an MP’s office looks like. It’s quite… posh.”
Harriet replied, “My assistant has good taste in decoration.”
She looked back at Harriet, a guarded expression on her face. Harriet had the distinct impression that Naomi had prepared something she wanted to say, and Harriet didn’t want to hear whatever it was. Harriet decided to take control. “Let’s go get a cup of coffee,” she said, standing.
“All right,” Naomi replied, seemingly with reluctance.
Harriet trusted Naomi’s sense of discretion, that she wouldn’t say anything too personal if they stayed in the company of other people. Harriet kept to the crowded hallways and then led them to one of Westminster’s cafés, telling her along the way about the history of her building. To Naomi’s credit, she at least tried to show interest.
“So now I’ve seen where you work, and you’ve seen where I work,” Harriet said, keeping her tone light. Harriet took their two coffees from the takeaway counter at the café and handed one to Naomi.
“Yes, about the other day, at Drake Hall and the hearing…” Naomi began to say, before glancing at a couple of aides who said good morning to Harriet.
Harriet replied quietly, saying, “This isn’t really the place to talk about that.” She smiled at Naomi to soften her comment and then took a sip of her piping hot coffee.
Harriet led them back down the street toward her building, the noise of the crowd on the sidewalk making it impossible to have any intimate conversation. She stopped at the entrance and touched Naomi’s arm as she said, “It was really good of you to surprise me.”
“Harriet, I was hoping we could talk,” Naomi replied. Harriet silently observed that she hadn’t yet taken a single sip of her coffee.
“All right,” Harriet replied. “But I have to get back to work now. You understand.”
“Yes, I understand,” Naomi replied, her mouth tugging downward into a frown.
Harriet needed to keep on Naomi’s good side. She gave her arm a squeeze and said, “But let’s get together soon – my place or yours, it doesn’t matter. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” Naomi said, although
it was plain that she was still bothered.
Harriet gave her a quick peck on the cheek and replied, “Brilliant. I’ll be in touch.” She flashed a smile at Naomi before disappearing through the doors.
#
With her bottle of scotch and an empty glass resting on the piano, Harriet finished playing another song and then reached for a drink. Well, another drink. She had lost count of how many she had had.
She hadn’t heard Thomas walk into the room, but he helped himself to a seat on the couch nearby, saying, “Really, I’m amazed that you still play.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t be so easily offended, Harriet. You play beautifully. I just didn’t think you’d stick with it. They say it’s difficult to learn to play an instrument as an adult,” Thomas said.
She took a large swallow of scotch then motioned with her glass toward Thomas. “Would you like some?”
He shook his head no. He hesitated before saying, “I just wish that playing the piano made you… happier. Where do you go in your mind, when you’re playing?”
“To the same place I went, physically, last week,” she said muddily, pouring herself another glass.
“Now you’ve lost me,” Thomas said with a hint of a smile.
Harriet looked over at this man whom she had known for so long. “To Drake Hall. To Charlie. Playing the piano makes me feel closer to Charlie,” she replied, knowing that her words would hurt him.
There was no trace of a smile on his lips as he asked, “You saw Charlie?”
Harriet shrugged and took another drink. She seemed distracted as she said, “It’s a shame. She and I never did take that trip to Edinburgh that we had planned. There just wasn’t the time.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
“About Edinburgh?” Harriet asked dryly.
“About seeing Charlie,” Thomas said.
“It wasn’t a social visit. We were never alone together, if that’s what’s worrying you,” she said, sighing. “I attended her hearing.”
Thomas’s eyebrows arched. “What kind of hearing?”
“With the parole board. They were deciding whether to release her. She should find out next week, I imagine.”
“Harriet, Charlie is being released from prison?” he asked. She couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised or angry.
“It’s doubtful, but yes, it’s a possibility.” She took a long sip of scotch.
“I can’t believe you wouldn’t mention this to me.” His eyes cast downward, he was quiet for a moment. Looking at Harriet again, he said, “This is why you’ve been acting so strangely lately, isn’t it?” She didn’t answer, so he then asked, “So, what does this mean, Harriet? To the organization, and… to me?”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, Thomas.”
“You’re being purposely obtuse. Don’t insult me.” He stood and walked over to where Harriet still sat at the piano. “If Charlie gets out, are you letting her back into the fold of the organization? Can we still trust her after all that’s happened?”
Harriet felt her anger growing again, an anger that the scotch no longer seemed to dull. “That woman has served twelve years for us, Thomas. Twelve years and she hasn’t revealed anything. So yes, I think we can still trust her.”
“Harriet, I didn’t mean –”
“I know exactly what you meant, Thomas,” she said, an icy tone to her voice. “But for now, we don’t even know if she’s being released. Honestly, it’s rather unlikely that she will be.”
His face flushed, he asked, “Are you going to tell the others?” By others, Harriet knew he meant Zoe, Ethan, and the other members of the inner circle.
“When it’s necessary – if it becomes necessary – then yes.”
“I guess that’s your prerogative,” Thomas said, looking like he wanted to say far more than just that.
“Yes, it is,” Harriet replied. Standing up, she took the bottle off the piano and added, “I’m going to bed.”
Chapter Fifty
Harriet leaned back in her chair, her elbows resting on the arms of the chair and her fingers steepled in front of her, as she listened to Zoe’s report. Zoe described in detail how she had gone to check out the meeting of a group that could possibly be connected to Joanna.
“But you still don’t know for sure whether Joanna is behind that organization,” Harriet said, growing irritated by how long Zoe’s report was taking. Normally she would appreciate Zoe’s thoroughness, but her nerves were feeling taxed.
Thomas interjected, “What do they call themselves, anyway? This organization, that organization… I don’t need the confusion.” Apparently Harriet wasn’t the only aggravated person in the room.
Zoe looked from Thomas to Harriet and replied, “Sisters and Brothers of the Revolution. But no, I don’t know if Joanna is behind it.”
Harriet made a mental note that it sounded like a name Joanna would come up with. She asked, “Did it feel like it could be her?”
Zoe was starting to flush, the pink in her skin rising from her chest up to her cheeks. “I never met her first-hand, remember. When I started as a supplier, it was an acquaintance that set everything up between us. But from what I’ve learned about Joanna over these past several years… yes, it could be her. I mean, the meeting felt like… well…”
“Yes?” Harriet asked with her eyebrows raised.
“It felt like our meetings. The Big Circle meetings, I mean.” Zoe was using their shorthand for how they referred to the large meetings of the SDO. “But it also felt like how you described how our meetings used to be – back when they were secret and closed, and when any new person would be frisked at the door.”
“Joanna helped to develop that procedure,” Ethan said.
“And then there was something else, too,” Zoe said. She ran her fingers through her short, bleach blond hair. “I think they had me followed after I left.”
Harriet could feel the frown forming on her face. “Go on.”
“I can’t be sure, but I heard someone behind me when I was a couple of blocks from the meeting so I stopped off for a cup of tea. Someone else arrived soon after me and then I saw him again at the Tube station after I left. I lost him on the Tube, though.”
“Are you sure?” Ethan asked.
There was a flicker of doubt before Zoe replied, “Yes.”
“We’ll need you to go back, Zoe,” Harriet said. “Did they encourage you to return? Do you know when their next meeting is?”
She nodded and said, “It’s this Friday.”
“Good. Be careful. This might take some time, but we need to figure out who’s behind these ‘Sisters and Brothers.’”
#
Harriet took a long walk and ended up at 1 Bridge Street where her office was located in Portcullis House, part of the expanded buildings of Parliament. Sitting in her chair in her mostly darkened office, she browsed the notes that Anna had left for her about which constituents needed attention, plus a reminder to look through the internship applications. Harriet felt like she had been neglecting her work lately, that even when she was physically present, her mind was elsewhere.
Harriet called up her diginotes and saw there was one from Erin. Bringing it into view, she read that Erin wanted to meet as soon as possible. Harriet sent her a reply asking if she could meet first thing the next morning, and then she turned and stared out her window. Across the street, the massive neo-gothic building, especially with its yellow glow at night, never failed to put her in her place and make her feel appropriately small.
She looked back to her desk and saw that Erin had already replied. Erin gave Harriet her address, even though Harriet could’ve have looked it up on her own, and said she would be home all night. Erin asked that if Harriet couldn’t stop by, she would meet her in the morning at her office.
Harriet decided the internship applications could wait.
When Harriet arrived at Erin’s flat, it was late enough that she should
have been asleep and it was possibly past Erin’s bedtime as well. The city had made some improvements, such as sunscreens over the street, which meant that some of the populace had returned to daytime schedules. She presumed that Erin, like most Londoners, had kept up a nocturnal schedule. Scientists were still hard at work trying to combat climate change, the only apparent benefit being that political forces saw that they could not afford to go it alone – that alliances with other countries were finally deemed necessarily. Nevertheless, some Londoners had eased back into a diurnal schedule, and Harriet wondered whether she would find Erin asleep.
Harriet knocked softly on the door with her knuckles, and Erin opened it a moment later. “Hi, Harriet. Come in. Or should I say Ms. Spencer?” she asked dryly.
Harriet entered her flat, observing the modest but homey décor, and replied evenly, “Would you have preferred that I tell Naomi James that you and I knew each other? That we’re on a first-name basis?”
Erin walked into her kitchen, so Harriet followed her. Erin went to the sink, turned on the tap, and started filling a teakettle. “Cuppa?” she asked.
“Please,” Harriet said. She noted how Erin’s flowing blouse and capri pants were by far the most casual clothes Harriet had seen her in before.
“Milk and sugar?”
“Milk, no sugar,” Harriet said.
“We haven’t known each other very long, really,” Erin finally said as a reply. “It’s just that we’ve both known Charlie for so long.” She placed the kettle on the burner and turned the knob, then took a seat at the vintage kitchen table nearby. Harriet sat down in a chair catty-corner to her.
“I don’t even know if I… know… Charlie, or if I just knew her, past tense, for a while a long time ago.” Harriet looked away and said, “You probably don’t want to hear about this.”
“I’m sure you’ve known a lot of people. What makes Charlie any different? Or isn’t she different?” Erin asked, and although her words were biting, her tone was kind.
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