As he placed it with the other one, he heard a familiar sound from the other side of the door. He stood there, arms folded, as it finally opened- and Mildred entered the apartment. "Oh. Mr. Steele," she said. "I- wasn't sure you were still here," she tried to explain.
"Wouldn't knocking have answered that question better than picking the lock?" he asked with an indulgent smile.
"I wasn't sure you'd answer the door," she replied miserably.
He smiled, putting an arm around her. "Of course I would have, Mildred."
She looked sheepish. "Besides, I needed the practice."
Remington laughed softly. "Your skills have improved greatly," he assured her. "Laura's going to be grateful for that," he said.
She glanced over at the suitcases by the door. "You're really going, aren't you?"
"It's what Laura wants, Mildred," he answered simply, as if that would answer everything.
"But- Mr. Steele-," Mildred protested, looking up at him with an expression that nearly made him re-think his decision.
"There, there, Mildred. I'll be back. Three months will pass before you know it." But it's going to seem an eternity to me, he thought to himself.
"But- what if she needs you? If something- happens?"
Remington patted her shoulder gently, then went to the telephone and wrote a number on the notepad there. "Daniel's flat in London," he told her, holding it out, only to draw it back as she would have taken it. "Only in an emergency, Mildred. I'm going to play this by Laura's rules."
"Okay, Chief," she agreed, glancing at the number. "When does your flight leave?"
He consulted his watch. "In an hour."
Mildred picked up the nearest case. "I'll drive you," she offered, but Remington shook his head, taking the heavy suitcase from her.
"Fred's on his way up."
"But-."
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he said, "I'd prefer it if you went back to the office and kept an eye on Laura. I'm counting on you to do that for me."
"I will, Mr. Steele," she promised. "I just -,"
Seeing the tears in her eyes, he gave her his best smile and a hug. "I'll be back, Mildred," he said, moving back so he could look at her. "I promise." As he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, there was a knock on the door. "That will be Fred."
Remington used his key to open the front door of Daniel's townhouse, smiling slightly as he realized that there had been a time when a hairpin or the like would have been his key of choice. Laura had certainly changed him, of that there was no doubt. He waited as the cab driver placed his luggage on the flagstone floor. "Anything else, `arry?"
"No, thank you, Louie." He pulled out his wallet and handed the man some money.
Louie gave him a toothless grin. "Thanks, `arry. It's good t'see ya back," he said, tugging on his battered cap as Remington closed the door.
"Harry?" a female voice called out in surprise.
Turning, he took in the plump figure wrapped in a worn chenille bathrobe, her iron grey hair in a thick plait over one shoulder. "Hello, Mary," he said tiredly with a lopsided grin.
The housekeeper gave him a hug. "It's good to see you, lad, but- what're you doing here?" she asked, looking him over. "Daniel told me that y'were all settled into y'life as Remington Steele."
"I am, Mary," he said. "I'm- I've no idea where to start explaining."
She put her arm through his, barely coming up to his shoulder as they moved. "Why don't you put your cases in your room, and then join me in the kitchen for a cup of tea? We'll talk there. And I MIGHT have some of those cinnamon biscuits that you've always been so fond of," she informed him with twinkling eyes.
Remington gave her another hug. "Oh, Mary, me darlin'. You're going to spoil me."
"Haven't had much chance to spoil you lately," she reminded him. "Besides, ya look like ya could be after some spoiling. Now off with ya, lad. The kettle won't take two shakes t'boil."
"All right," he agreed, picking up his bags. "I'll be down in a minute," he promised.
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Mary listened in silence as he told her everything- all about the young woman who had kept his attention for four years-longer, certainly, than anyone or anything else had ever done. Once he finished, she sat back. "I don't have t'ask if you're in love with the lass," she said. "It's there in your voice. D'you think she's in love with you?"
"I think she could be," Remington said. "If she could just- overcome her bloody inhibitions."
"But aren't those inhibitions one of the things that you love about her?" Mary countered. "Y'know, Daniel's told me a bit about your Laura."
Remington grimaced. "I can just imagine what he said."
"It was all complimentary, Harry," she said, then smiled at his doubtful expression. "Most of it, anyway. He said she was stubborn- almost as stubborn as you are- but that she's kept you on the straight and narrow well enough. Kept you from winding up in prison somewhere. Or worse. He might not have told you, but he thinks very highly of the lass."
Remington was stunned. "Really? That's not the impression he's given me- Or Laura, for that matter. Speaking of Daniel, I'm surprised he hasn't come downstairs." He glanced at his watch, then adjusted for the time difference. "Daniel's always been an early riser. Never understood it myself, but-."
"That's because YOU never learned that there were hours of daylight BEFORE noon," she teased.
"Ah, that was Harry," he assured her. "Remington Steele's a totally different man. At the office by nine- well, ten at the latest, five days a week."
"I somehow don't think Remington Steele's all that different from the Harry I've known all these years, lad. You've always had the kindest heart of any man I've ever known. Too kind sometimes," she said, a serious note in her Irish brogue. "Always willin' t'jump in and help a friend- or even a stranger- in trouble. And you were that way even before Daniel found you, I'd wager."
"Speaking of Daniel?" he prodded again.
"He's not here. But he's due back today." Mary watched him from across the table. "Why don't y'go up t'your room and get some rest? Y'did say that you'd have the devil of a time getting here."
He nodded, suddenly realizing that he could barely keep his eyes open. "Good idea." Rising, he gave her a pat on the shoulder. "See you later. And thanks."
She smiled at him, looking for all the world like the leprechaun he'd always thought her to be in his youth. "My pleasure, lad."
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Remington woke around noon, feeling only a little better than he had earlier. He resisted the strong urge to call Los Angeles, if only to hear Laura's voice. Is she wanted him to find out if life with her- as Remington Steele- was what he really wanted, then he'd do his best to do just that.
As he came from his room, he noticed that the door to Daniel's room was open, remembered that it had been closed earlier. He approached the room intending to greet his old friend, but paused upon seeing Daniel standing before the chest of drawers, placing a bottle of what looked to be pills into the top drawer before picking up a photograph that Remington hadn't seen in years.
The photo had been on Daniel's night table when he'd first come to stay with Daniel. He remembered asking about the pretty, sad eyed woman in the picture. "Who's she?" he asked. "Your bird?"
Daniel had quickly taken the silver frame from his grubby fingers and replied, "Someone I knew- a long time ago."
Remington hadn't seen the photograph again. The next time he'd gone into Daniel's room, it had been out of sight. As he stood at the door now, he saw Daniel place the frame into the same drawer with the pills.
Pills. That was another thing. Daniel had never been ill. Getting him to take an aspirin for a headache had always taken an act of Parliament. It was something that Remington himself had adopted, a dislike of pills and medication. There was something strange going on here.
Remington shook his head. Laura's influence, no doubt, causing him to see a mystery where there was probably nothing. So Daniel was taking medication. He wasn't as young as he used to be. As for the picture- if Laura thought HIM reticent about his past, she'd have a heyday with Daniel. Even now, Remington knew precious little about his mentor's life prior to their meeting in Brixton. If Daniel preferred not to talk about the young woman in the picture, Remington decided, it was his choice.
Smiling, he tapped on the door frame. "Hello?"
Daniel turned, returning the smile as he crossed the room. "Harry," he said, as they embraced. "You're looking well. Mary told me you were here."
"And why, I'll bet."
"Yes, well, she'd concerned. Said you looked a bit in when you arrived."
"Just needed some sleep," Remington assured him. "What about you?"
Daniel's eyes took on a wary gleam. "Me?"
"Mary said you were away? A job?"
"Oh, no. I WAS offered the position of Chief of Security for the Earl, but I turned it down."
"But why, Daniel? It would have been perfect for you. Legitimate, easier than being on the run -."
Daniel laughed. "Oh, the leopard's too old to be changing his spots at this stage of the game, Harry, my boy. No. I was- on vacation. Just a bit of time away from town, that's all. But I DO have something in the works," Daniel admitted. "If you want to keep busy while you're here."
There it was. The choice. He could return to his old life- risk getting caught, risk destroying his future- and Laura's. "Sorry, Daniel. Thanks for the offer, but, I've worked too hard the last few years to risk it all that way." He thought he saw a flash of pride- and relief?- in Daniel's eyes before the older man turned toward the door.
As they went down the stairs, Daniel said, "Well, you know you're welcome to stay here as long as you like, Harry. Now, I think Mary probably has lunch ready. And she's no doubt prepared all your favorite dishes."
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He accompanied Daniel to the club that evening after dinner, and while Remington won handily at Baccarat, something was missing.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Daniel asked, approaching as the tall blonde who had been hanging on Remington's arm all evening finally moved on to greener pastures. "Ingrid looks positively furious."
"Guess she's not used to being brushed off," Remington explained.
"Brushed off?" Daniel repeated, looking again at the lovely lady. "Really, Harry-."
"It's not her, Daniel. It's just- I'm- it's not the same without Laura standing next to me, nagging me not to make a bet or take that chance."
Daniel watched as he cashed in his chips. "You've only been in London for a day, Harry. You've got three whole months to go."
"I know, Daniel," Remington sighed as he got into the vintage Bentley limousine. "I know."
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Remington took to taking long walks around the area, exhausting himself physically so he could sleep. He noticed Daniel and Mary's concerned looks when he could come in near dawn and wearily climb the stairs to his room, but he couldn't seem to shake himself out of the depression that he settled on him.
Then one morning, a few days after his arrival, he was passing a newsstand when a photograph leapt out at him. Picking up the paper, he read the article, his despair and anger fighting for pre-eminence. Associate of Remington Steele Captures Hit Man. Accompanying the headline and article was a photograph of Laura with Lt. James Jarvis and an FBI agent, Greg Fiske. Tossing the old man at the counter some money, he walked back toward the townhouse, reading all about Laura's close encounter with Charlie Devon, a hit man that the FBI and Interpol had both been looking to capture for several years. "Damn!" he muttered. "Damn, damn, damn!" he was saying as he entered the house.
Mary called from the dining room. "Harry? Breakfast is ready, if you'd care to eat before going t'bed."
He turned toward the room, newspaper still in hand. "Good morning, Harry," Daniel said.
"Hmm," Remington replied, reading the article once again.
"Something interesting in the paper, my boy?" he asked, shaking out his napkin.
"Oh, nothing much. Only that Laura risked her life to capture a hit man that the FBI had been looking for AND got her picture on the front page of the Los Angeles paper," he said, tossing the offending rag in Daniel's direction.
Daniel glanced at the photo and article as Remington began to pile food on his plate. "Takes a good picture, doesn't she?"
"I don't give a - She shouldn't have taken that kind of risk. The bastard might have killed her. If I'd tried something like that, she'd have raised the bloody roof!" Mary sent him a cautionary glance. "Sorry, Mary. But it would appear that she hasn't wasted any time getting on with her life without me."
Daniel nodded, finishing the article before folding the paper and placing it beside his plate. "Apparently. What are you going to do?"
Remington thought for a moment. "Is that invitation to join you and your partner in the South of France still open?"
"Of course it is, my boy, but- I thought you didn't want to get involved in that sort of thing."
"I'm not saying I'll get involved," Remington said. "But I might be able to help in some way. And even if I don't, it will be a change of scenery." He missed the look that passed between Mary and Daniel as he picked up the paper once again. If Laura could get on with things, then so could he.
To Be Continued . . .