It had started with a text. Camille was totally oblivious of the chain of events she put in place when she left her iphone on the bar alongside her bag while she had visited the bathroom. But as fate would have it, it vibrated almost as soon as she was out of sight, the phone dancing its customary jig as it skipped its way across the bar, drawing attention to the message that had just been sent, its face lighting up at the knowledge that it had done its job correctly.

It was also fate that her mother had been standing near enough to the phone for it to catch her eye and, although she hadn't meant to read the message, it had been short enough for her to do so at a glance.

Home, courtesy of an earlier ferry. What time can you get away? R

Catherine wasn't a nosy woman by nature, she was happy for everyone to keep their own council and make their own mistakes, who was she to judge them after all. But she found herself reading the missive again to make sure that her eyes hadn't been playing tricks on her. It seemed innocuous enough, after all there was no flirting or affection, there hadn't even been a kiss at the end of it. It could be as innocent as him inviting her to catch up with police work after his time away. But something about it niggled at her. The message was almost needy in its nature, promised something in its tone, spoke of the existence of emotions that she hadn't yet grasped. She was about to dismiss it, to turn away, when the screen lit up again for a second time.

Ps I've missed you x

If the first message could have been misconstrued, then the second was unmistakeable in its meaning. Biting back a smile she turned her back on the phone, not wanting to be caught prying and busied herself with the rearranging the glasses, waiting for her daughter to return.

She felt that the pieces of a jigsaw were finally sliding into place. She had suspected for some time now that things had changed between them. Oh, they still argued as much as ever, but lately it had seemed like a charade, a carefully constructed rouse designed to play to people's expectations and perceptions of their usual behaviour. There was less aggravated tension, less exasperation towards each other. And if you watched the two of them together you could often see a glimpse of something deeper that they shared. At first she had thought it had meant that they were finally putting their differences behind them, becoming friends, building a stronger team through mutually shared trust, respect and understanding. But as time went on, and they still insisted on their play arguments, she began to think that a different game was afoot.

Catherine smiled again thinking about the text. Well, she was happy for them. She wondered how long they had been seeing each other whilst idly polishing the glasses in front of her, and then stopped abruptly.

Richard was quite possibly the most unsentimental man she had ever met. His lack of tact and charm was legendary on the island and he found it difficult to manage even the simplest of courtesies without offending people. Socially inept, she believed was the correct term. It was true, she was fond of him, although she would never let him know that fact. But she imagined that for him to have sent a text telling her daughter that he missed her, then he must be suitably smitten.

So how long did an emotionally reserved man (to say the least) take to become smitten, or indeed comfortable enough to tell someone that he was smitten? Weeks? Months? She suddenly came to the realisation that their relationship, whatever it was, was no fledgling affair, but in all probability something of substance for both of them.

So why hadn't Camille told her? They were close, had always confided to each other about everything that mattered and most things that didn't. They'd had to. They were the only family the other had and since her husband had left, Catherine had played the difficult part of being both parent and friend. She had known about every one of her daughter's previous relationships, had held her in her arms when they had broken down and counselled her when she had needed advice. She knew about her daughter's love life in more detail than perhaps was normal for a mother. So why was Camille hiding this from her?

She had a feeling that it was because of Richard. He hated attention of any sort, none more so than that of a personal nature. Had he insisted on them keeping it quiet? She thought about it and decided that that was likely. She could imagine he would be embarrassed by the island gossip that would accompany the union of one of their own with such a staid and uptight Englishman. He would prefer to be left alone, without the scrutiny of her friends and their colleagues. She imagined that he would be flustered by the idle chatter of people discussing their odd pairing, the insinuations and banter he would incur when people playfully mentioned their sex life. Oh goodness, she wondered what their sex life was like. She had always thought...No. She squashed that thought instantly. Best not to go there...

Before she could dedicate any more time to the subject she heard Camille sit back down on the stool behind her. She realised that her current thoughts had furrowed her brow so rearranged her features to something she hoped was more relaxed, turned around and smiled brightly.

"What are you up to for the weekend ma cherie?"

"Oh nothing really. I thought that I might just go to the beach and relax, I'm not sleeping well at the moment."

"Richard's coming back tonight isn't he?" She was probing gently, "why don't you show him a little more of the island?"

Camille thought about this, "I suppose I could do, but he's getting the late ferry and will probably be tired. Besides, you know he hates being a tourist. He'd much rather stay at home reading. Honestly Maman he can be so boring sometimes."

Catherine laughed to herself at Camille's rather obvious attempt to make her believe that she didn't enjoy his company. She had seen them alone together at the bar too often when the rest of the team had gone home for her to truly believe that. She was also rather pleased that her little trap had been so easy to lay. Now all she had to do was spring it.

"I think I heard your phone buzz, ma cherie," Catherine said innocently, watching as Camille picked up her phone, scrutinizing her for any flicker of emotion on her daughters face as she read the messages. But there was nothing.

"Who was it?"

"Richard."

Catherine was a little surprised – she hadn't thought it was going to be this easy. Perhaps Camille had been waiting for the right time to talk to her about this new relationship.

Camille continued, "he's still stuck on Guadeloupe – he wants me to feed Harry this evening." She looked her mother dead in the eye and Catherine found herself more than a little hurt by her daughters barefaced lie.

"Oh." Then, "well we still have some time before you have to go don't we? Do you want another drink?"

"No, thank you Maman, its nearly 8. Harry always gets fed at 6, I should go." And with that, Camille jumped down from the stool, picked up her things and walked coolly out of the bar blowing her customary two kisses to her mother behind her as she left.

And all Catherine could think of was that maybe Camille was as smitten as Richard was.

Later, however after she had time to give the matter more thought, she decided to call Commissioner Patterson. It was a short phone call and a sweet one, at least to her mind. Clearing his throat with a small cough, the Commissioner had simply stated that he couldn't discuss the personal lives of two of his officers. It was all she needed as confirmation that the two of them were indeed in a relationship, she knew Selwyn well enough that he would have told her the truth if there was nothing going on. She could feel the beginnings of a plan coming on. She didn't want to meddle but she was annoyed that Richard was hiding their relationship.

Well, if he wanted to be single then Catherine was going to treat him that way.