This story was plotted together with Susi. Please read also Susi’s version of the story: "Georgie Boy". –
My special thanks to Renate Harrison who translated this story Vaterfreuden into English.
Disclaimer: All characters relating to The Professionals belong to Brian Clemens and Mark 1 Productions. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made from it.
Set after "Wild Justice".
THE JOYS OF FATHERHOOD
It was late afternoon as Bodie and Doyle left HQ. On the way to his car Doyle called: “Hey Bodie, you coming for a beer?”
“OK, but not for long, I’m expecting company.”
Arriving at their favourite pub, Doyle went up to the bar to get the beers, while Bodie got comfortable at a table. As Doyle passed the beer across the table he told him that the next round was on him. They drank their beers in companionable silence, lost in their own thoughts.
With a huge grin on his face, Doyle suddenly said, “Where did you get that silly water pistol? Pinched it from the kid next door?“
Bodie looked at him with a deadpan expression. “From my son.”
“What?” Bodie slapped Doyle on the back as he choked on his beer. “What was that? From your son? You’re kidding! You’ve only had one beer,” Doyle spluttered.
“No, really. From my son Georgie. He’s the reason I need 2 weeks leave. Now.”
Irritated, and not quite sure whether he was having him on, Doyle replied, “OK, you’re pulling my leg. How come you didn’t tell me this before?”
“Hey, you don’t need to know everything, mate,” Bodie replied with a scornful smirk on his face.
Doyle could hardly contain his curiosity. “OK, tell me.”
“There’s not much to tell ...” Bodie grinned to himself as he took a mouthful of beer. “Do you remember Helen?”
“Yep, she’s the one who was twice your age! I warned you about her! She had that calculating look in her eyes.”
“You do exaggerate, Ray! She was hardly older than you.” After a short pause, he continued. “A few days ago I got a parcel containing a water pistol, a photo and a short note. She asked me to look after Georgie because she has to go into hospital for an operation.”
“Just like that? But …” Doyle couldn’t hide his amazement.
“No ‘buts’ Doyle, he’s my son. I’ll look after him for the next two weeks.”
“But he doesn’t even know you. Wouldn’t he be better off with someone else? With his grandmother, Auntie or someone? You haven’t got a clue about looking after kids, Bodie!”
“Where’s the problem? I’m the father! That’s enough! Look, I have to go. Will you drive me or do I need to get a taxi?”
Bodie finished his beer and stood.
“’Cause I’ll drive you home, you berk!” Doyle finished his beer and they left the pub in silence. Doyle still couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
Just as they were getting into the car Bodie’s RT sounded. “3.7.”
“Bodie, I need you at HQ now. Where’s 4.5?“ ordered Cowley.
“4.5’s next to me, sir, but, sir, I’m on leave,” he protested.
“Your leave is cancelled,” replied Cowley gruffly. “We’ve got a tip off on a weapons deal. I need you and 4.5 here soonest.”
“But, sir, I can’t….”
Cowley didn’t let Bodie finish. “Do I have to quote the small print to you, Bodie? Briefing in one hour, my office. You’re on at 5.00am. Be prepared for a long day. Alpha 1 out.”
“What’s up?“ asked Doyle.
“The old man has us on a surveillance op,” Bodie replied angrily. “He wants us in his office in an hour. Damn …”
“And now?”
“ I have to think of something ...” Bodie wasn’t very convincing. “No, she’ll have to think of something else!”
***
The next morning Bodie arrived in Cowley’s office with what appeared to be a bundle of blankets under his arm. The bundle turned out to be a three year old boy with blue eyes and black hair with the delightful name of George.
“Bodie, what’s that child doing here?” Cowley looked incredulously at Bodie. “Have you gone completely crazy?”
“Sorry, sir, but I told you I couldn’t take part in the surveillance job. I’ve got these obligations. - This is my son George – Georgie -, sir.”
“You’ve only got one obligation and that’s to your job!” Suddenly Cowley realised what Bodie had said.
“What … I didn’t know you had a son?”
“Well, I didn’t know myself ’till a couple of weeks ago,” Bodie replied with a hint of pride.
“Well, what’s the child doing here anyway?” asked Cowley again, now visibly irritated.
“Betty will have to look after him,” said Bodie with a barely concealed grin. “And until she gets here, I’ll leave him in your care. I’ll bring in his toys and whatever you’re going to need.”
***
Georgie was good at first, probably overcome by the experience of meeting his father for the first time, or the early hour. He sat in the corner of Cowley’s office, playing with his blocks.
But it’s not long before he says, “Hey, Uncle, I’m thirsty…”
Cowley glanced up from his folders, stood up and gave the boy a bottle of fruit juice that Bodie had left. Little George seemed content for a while. A few minutes later, though, came, “Hey, Uncle, I’m hungry…”
With a sigh, Cowley got up and gave the boy a biscuit. “Damn, where’s Betty?” he grumbled.
As if by telepathy, the phone rang. “Betty here, sir.” Cowley hardly recognised her voice, it was so husky. “I’m sorry, sir, I won’t be in today. I’ve got a really bad dose of the flu.”
“But Betty, I need you here!” Cowley tried to sound calm and not let his despair show. “Bodie has left his son here.”
“What! No, sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t come in today. Besides, I’d infect the child. Maybe tomorrow …”
“I hope you get better soon, Betty!” Cowley slammed the phone down almost angrily. Not angry at Betty, but… ‘Damn, why does she have to be sick today?’ he thought.
A small voice from the corner brought him out of his selfpity. “Uncle, I need to pee.”
‘This should be fun,’ thought Cowley. Even that Cowley handled with style. But he couldn’t get back to his files.
“You, will you play with me?”
“No, you’ve got lovely toys, so you play with them,” grumbled Cowley. At first Georgie seemed content with that.
But it wasn’t long before Georgie threw Cowley a mischievous glance across the room. Why should he play with his stupid blocks when there were so many more interesting things to find and play with, he thought? Suddenly he was up on his feet and running through the office.
‘Oh, you can climb through here’, he thought, as he slipped under the desk, between Cowley’s legs ... Suddenly the files, which were on Cowley’s desk, were on the floor, pages scattered everywhere. Before he had time to turn around the boy was out the office door.
Cowley ran after him as fast as his leg allowed him and glimpsed the boy just as he disappeared into the restroom. Murphy had just made himself comfortable on the couch. Georgie climbed up on the couch as Murphy jumped up in fright. “Hey, what the ...” He saw then that it wasn’t his partner Jax, but a little boy. “Who are you then?”
“Georgie!”
Cowley appeared at the door. Murphy looked questioningly at him.
“That’s Bodie’s son,” Cowley enlightened the dazed Murphy.
“What? I don’t believe it! That scoundrel ...” Murphy could only just stop himself laughing aloud.
Thank God Susan arrived then and Cowley convinced her to look after Georgie for a few hours. Susan struck a good rapport with Georgie immediately, so Cowley was convinced she would ‘tame’ the child by the time Bodie returned. He would be back by four at the latest, as Murphy and Jax would then take over the surveillance.
Susan came into the office with Georgie. “sir, Bodie just rang. They’re in Dover and are having car trouble and probably won’t get back before 9 pm. You’re supposed to take the boy to Bodie’s flat and put him to bed. All his things are in the travel bag in his bedroom. And don’t forget to give him his stuffed dog. He can’t sleep without it.”
“Susan, could you do that for me?” asked Cowley, giving Susan a look of despair.
“No, sorry sir, but I’m looking after my sick mother tonight.” Susan sympathised with Cowley. She’s not sure that Cowley is up to the challenge. He could handle irate cabinet ministers, or a bunch of overgrown CI5 agents, but looking after a small child? Of that Susan was not so sure. And after all, this was Bodie’s son … like father, like son … flashed through her mind.
‘Oh, well,’ thought Cowley, ‘the little fella has been running around all day, so he’s probably tired and would go straight to bed. There should be no problem.’ The boy seemed to be quite at home in Bodie’s flat. Together they ate dinner. Obviously the boy’s mother had stocked up the refrigerator. At about 8.00 pm Cowley put the boy to bed, but not until after a ‘fight’ over the necessity of brushing ones’ teeth and a short bedtime story. He seemed to fall asleep immediately. Cowley didn’t forget to give him his stuffed dog “Fiffi”.
Worn out after a long day which had started at 4.00 am to organise the surveillance op, Cowley sat down on the sofa. He did not feel comfortable here in his agent’s flat. He felt as though he was invading Bodie’s privacy, but after all it had been Bodie who had asked him to do this. Suddenly he spied a bottle of Scotch on the sideboard and helped himself. After a mouthful and a glance at the label, Cowley decided that he must be paying the lads too much, if they could afford such a good malt whiskey. ‘It’s nearly better than mine,’ he thought. He lay back on the sofa and nodded off.
Georgie wasn’t sleeping as well as Cowley thought. Hardly had Cowley closed the door, than he was out of bed and going through Bodie’s wardrobe. Very quietly. As he didn’t find anything interesting, he crept into the living room and began to empty the draws of the desk and the shelves of the wall unit. Cowley was fast asleep and oblivious to it all. He had been pleased with his handling of Georgie. ‘Must be in the name,’ was probably his thought.
Eventually Georgie’s exploration of his father’s flat ended and he crept back to bed. The flat now resembled a battle zone.
***
Bodie and Doyle returned to the flat just after midnight. Both were worn out. It had been a long and strenuous day and the car trouble had done nothing to improve their mood. They’d had to wait for an hour in the cold for the tow truck and a further two hours at the garage, waiting for the car to be repaired.
“Oh, God, what’s happened here?” exclaimed Bodie as he almost tripped over some files.
Doyle put a finger to his lips. “SShh … look, Cowley’s asleep on the couch,” he whispered.
“Where is Georgie?” Bodie was concerned and went to the bedroom. Georgie lay asleep on the bed with his stuffed dog in his arms.
“Hey, looks like the old man has things well in hand,” whispered Doyle, with a malicious grin. “Let’s go for a drink. I know a club which is still open and I’ll pay. Wasn’t our favourite day today.”
„You’ll pay?“ Bodie whispered in disbelieve.
„Yes, that’s what I said, but just this time. Or would you prefer to stay here and clear up?”
„No, there is enough time for this tomorrow. And our two Georgies are sleeping so peaceful. I couldn’t clear up right now without waking them.” With a wide grin on their faces they sneaked out of the flat and closed the door very quietly.
***
As Bodie returned later that night, or better early that morning, Cowley was just waking up. “Bodie, where … What time is it?” he grumbled.
“About 4.00 am, sir. Sorry but it took longer than we thought.” Bodie had the grace to look embarrassed.
“Where is the boy?”
“He’s asleep.”
Then Cowley saw the chaos in the flat. “But who did … oh, damn the little rascal, and I thought he was asleep.”
“Apparently he is now. Can I bring him to the office tomorrow? I didn’t have time today to organise a baby sitter.”
“No, Bodie, no. But you can have your two weeks leave. I hope you have a good time.” Cowley could barely conceal his panic.
***
Two weeks later, Helen arrived to pick up her son.
“Hi, Bodie, how are you? You’re looking pale. Oh, Georgie, come here sweetie, had a good time with daddy?” George ran happily to his mother’s waiting arms. She lifted him in the air and kissed him.
“Helen, I suppose you’d like me to pay some maintenance for Georgie?” Bodie looked at the floor in embarrassment.
“Oh, no, Bodie. I’m not really sure that you’re …” Helen stopped mid sentence. Her cheeks had gone red.
“What? You’re not sure that I’m ... what?” Bodie was upset. Did she mean what he thought?
“Oh, forget it, no, Georgie and I will get along without your help.”
Silently they packed Georgie’s things into his bag. “Bye, Bodie. We’ll see you again.” Helen headed for the door.
“Bye, Daddy, and say hello to Uncle George for me.” The boy gave Bodie a big kiss on the cheek.
“Bye, son … Helen.”
Bodie led them to Helen’s car and waved goodbye. He stood quietly on the footpath, deep in thought, as the car disappeared. After a while, he shook himself out of his reverie and returned to the flat.
***
Unsure about his feelings, but nevertheless pleased with himself, he rang Doyle. “Done, Doyle, he’s gone. Want to go for a drink?”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll pick you up. See you shortly.” Doyle was curious to know what Bodie had been doing these past two weeks. Two weeks with a little child. Doyle still couldn’t picture Bodie as a father.
This time Doyle managed to get Bodie to pay for the drinks. He lounged comfortably back in his chair, drinking his beer, and waited for Bodie to talk in his own time. He was not disappointed, even though it was hard for Bodie to open up. He told him about the two weeks with Georgie. Obviously he had enjoyed the time, even though it hadn’t been easy, especially when the boy cried for his mother.
Doyle fetched another beer and they sat in silence for a time. Both were deep in their own thoughts. Then Bodie broke the silence. “You know, Doyle, it’s funny knowing you have a child.”
“Yes, but ...“ Doyle was not sure how to answer. A child, a family - how often has he had these thoughts lately. But with his job! Unthinkable!
“As Helen left, she said something strange.” Bodie’s face gave nothing away.
“What? Does she want to get married?”
“Rubbish. No, she said she wasn’t sure.” Reluctantly the words left his lips.
“Yeah, being sure about you is hard,” laughed Doyle.
“No, I think she meant something else.”
“What?” Doyle’s curiosity was aroused.
“Yeah, well …”
It dawned on Doyle what Helen may have meant. “Probably she meant that maybe you’re not the father? I don’t trust her. I told you before I thought she had ulterior motives. I warned you about older women. Don’t you remember?”
“What, so I offered two weeks of my precious time to a bastard?” Bodie was aware of his harsh words. The memory of the exuberant, happy boy left him smiling to himself, but Doyle’s words gave him food for thought. ‘Yes, what about when …? Had Doyle been right before?’ Bodie couldn’t let these thoughts go. He stared at the bottom of his beer glass, as if the answer was there.
“Still, Bodie, look at it in a positive light. Now you know what you’ve missed and maybe he is …” Doyle laughed as Bodie became paler and mumbled to himself ...
End
(Gitti, October 2000)
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