As she approached the house that would be her home here in London from now on, Camille felt her heart beating faster with excitement. She was looking forward to seeing Margaret and Robert and spending the evening with them – and Richard, of course! – would be fun. Richard had explained that they had come to London after he had informed them that she'd come to stay for a few days – they wanted to celebrate her arrival in Europe…

Apparently, the Commissioner had been in close contact with the department in France, and once Humphrey had let him know that he had indeed decided to let her go, Selwyn Patterson had spoken to someone in the French HR department who had then made all necessary arrangements for Camille's flight and the connections. With the time difference between the Caribbean and Europe, that had been a bit challenging, but it had all worked out fine, and Richard had been informed by the French as well. Potter and he had discussed the matter as soon as they had heard from Leblanc that Camille was interested, and Richard's superior had agreed that it would be a good idea to bring her to London rightaway so she could get to know the other members of the British team.

Richard had talked to Leblanc again who had given him the number of the officer in charge of travel arrangements for the French members of the team – a very nice young lady with a quick grasp and a lovely accent. She had made all the necessary phone calls and online procedures, and so the ball had started rolling. Poor Michael Shaw had been ordered to take the car and pick up Camille at the airport at 7 – so he had had a rather short night – after all, it took a while to get to Heathrow from the North of London…

So far, the day had gone very well for her, Camille mused. She hadn't had any clue about what this trip to London would be about when she had found the ticket in her travel documents, but well… she certainly didn't complain about how things had developed.

As she climbed the steps to the entrance of the house, the door opened, and Margaret stood there with open arms, welcoming her. Robert was lingering in the hallway behind her, trying to hide his emotions behind a serious face, but even he couldn't help but smile broadly when Camille threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on both cheeks. Margaret watched them with a smile – it was amazing how Camille had gained her husband's affection and respect. Most people were put off by his formal behaviour… but then again, Camille had also torn down Richard's fences, so it wasn't such a surprise that Robert's stiff attitude couldn't frighten her.

Shortly afterwards, Camille and Margaret rummaged around in the kitchen together as if they had never done anything else, and Robert watched them with an amused smile on his face. Camille fixed herself some coffee (she wrinkled her nose when she saw the instant coffee, but Richard knew she was particular with coffee and most likely wanted her to choose her own favourite instead of buying the wrong brand), and Margaret brewed a pot of tea. There also was cake, and soon enough, the three of them had made themselves comfortable in the living room. The windows were open, a wonderful bouquet of summer flowers was on the table, and Camille let out a deep sigh as she kicked off her shoes and sat down on the sofa, the plate with cake on her knees.

"So, tell us… how did that all happen all of a sudden?" Margaret asked, and Camille began to give them a rundown on the events of the last few months. Richard's parents had known that she had wanted to move to Europe eventually – only two weeks after her return to Saint Marie, Camille had said so in an e-mail to Margaret. Neither she nor Richard had said much about their relationship, but it was clear as crystal to his parents that the two of them wanted to be together, and since Richard could not go back to the Caribbean, there was only one option for Camille: finding a job in France or the UK and moving away from the island.

Margaret was worried for Catherine and asked Camille how she felt about the situation. She didn't know Camille's mother very well - she had only met her once when she had come over to Saint Marie to take care of Richard and gather his belongings – but she knew that Catherine and Camille were rather close, and she remembered only too well how concerned she had been when Richard had moved to Saint Marie – so she was sure that Catherine would find it difficult to see Camille move to the other side of the world.

But Camille said that her mother understood that she needed to go her own way, and she was grateful for Catherine's philosophical attitude. "You know, once it had sunk in that I was really serious about Richard, she has always been very supportive," she explained. "I think that she had known all the time that I loved him, even before I knew it myself. When he got stabbed, I was completely devastated, and I was so traumatised for a while that I just functioned like a robot, if you know what I mean. When it became clear that Richard would survive, I was over the moon, and you know that I went to the hospital whenever I could - and Maman never said a word about it. I know that she wasn't so impressed with him at first… well, and to be honest, I wasn't, either… he just was so different from anybody else I had ever met, and he was so set in his ways… and there were other things -, but she knew that he's kind and caring, although he tried to hide it, and I guess she realised that she couldn't stop me, anyway…"

She took a bite of her cake and added "I think Maman is happy for me that I have the chance to spread my wings now. I mean, let's be honest, I was stuck on Saint Marie, from a professional point of view, and being there while Richard is here… that's just pointless and a complete waste of time. So, why would I stay?"

Robert cleared his throat and asked "So, what's that new job about, then?" Camille explained and gave him the details that she knew from what Richard had told her. She also mentioned that her headquarter would be in Paris, so while she would spend a considerable amount of time in London, she and Richard would live in both places because he'd also have to go to meetings in France. According to him, she was supposed to meet his superior on the next day, plus a few of the British team members, she'd get briefed about what her tasks in the team would be, which subjects she was supposed to focus on, she'd be given readers and guidelines and what-not, and they'd have to discuss a concept for the courses.

"On Sunday, I will fly over to Paris, and I'll see my boss there on Monday morning. I expect to see the head of the department there as well, and the first week will be spent on meetings and so on… They have booked me into a hotel for the first night, and after that, I'll stay in an interim flat for a while. I guess I will see what's available on the market… and when Richard comes over some time, we will make the round and look at the places I've found… it will really just be a small flat because I want to spend most of my free time over here," she looked around appreciatevely, "but I want it to be more than just one room, a tiny bathroom and a kitchen…"

They discussed the topic for a while, and then Camille asked them about their plans for the summer. Margaret had mentioned they were considering travelling to Italy in August or September, and she was curious to hear what had come out of those plans.

They were still chatting away when Camille suddenly pricked up her ears – there was the almost inaudible noise of a key turning in the lock. She jumped up to hurry to the entrance hall where Richard had just dumped a box of strawberries on the sideboard and dropped his briefcase - and fell into his open arms. His parents watched from the sitting room how the two of them stood in the hall, locked together and completely oblivious to their surroundings. Robert smiled and took his wife's hand. It was good to see Richard so happy. Margaret returned the squeeze of his fingers – she thanked her intuition that had made her trust in Camille and let her become a part of their life. She was so warm, vivacious and lively – like a ray of sunshine. And she really, truly loved Richard – that was more than obvious.

Margaret and Robert had plenty of opportunities to observe the communication between their son and his girlfriend over the remainder of the evening. They went out for an early dinner – Richard had reserved a table in a nearby restaurant. It wasn't a posh place, but the food was delicious – he had been there before with Camille when she had stayed with him after Christmas.

It was funny to observe how Richard started a sentence, and Camille finished it for him, and Margaret had to smile to herself when she heard Camille making a few pointed remarks to her son about how unadventurous and predictable his choice of food was. By the same token, Richard's pursed lips at her excitement about the different things she had on her plate spoke volumes. She made comments about some things being different from French (or Caribbean) food, and he said sarcastically "Well, Camille, this is England – you obviously get decent food here that doesn't burn your oesophagus," and she stuck out her tongue as a reply. Robert was a little shocked when he saw that – were they already arguing? -, but then he saw the twinkle in Richard's eyes and Camille's hand reaching over to caress his cheek.

Much to his surprise, his son was not embarrassed by this – in fact, he beamed at his girlfriend. But it wasn't the moonstruck grin Robert had seen on the faces of so many men who had fallen for a naïve or silly woman who was beautiful, but brainless. Camille's and Richard's relationship was based on a deep mutual understanding for each other, there was respect, along with tenderness, and the fact that they had never given up over the past year and a half, although circumstances had been tough for them, indicated that they were very, very serious about one another.

After dinner – it wasn't even 9 p.m. yet - Robert and Margaret returned to the house with them and said goodbye – they didn't want to come inside with them as they didn't want to be home too late. They invited the young couple to visit them on Saturday so they could take Camille to the airport together on Sunday – it was a little easier to get to Heathrow from their home than from North London. His father asked why they had booked Camille from Heathrow, anyway, when other airports were closer to North London. Richard said that it hadn't been possible to book a flight from London City for her trip to Paris this time, but for future trips, that would be their first choice – or they'd take the train. In any event, they promised to come over on Saturday, and with that, the Pooles went to pick up their car that was parked a little further down the road, and Richard and Camille went inside together.

He watched her as she got rid of her shoes and put her jacket on a hanger, wondering if she was up to champagne and dessert (the fresh strawberries had been put into the fridge before they had left for dinner) – and to what might come after dessert. After all, it had been a long day for her. He didn't want to appear greedy, after all… but well, it had been six months. He decided to play it safe and leave it up to her – so he went to close the curtains in the sitting room and hoped she'd give him a sign.

Camille noticed his glance, and she was well aware of what it was about… Although she had only had a few hours of sleep after her arrival in Heathrow, she wasn't overly tired yet. She was still on a high – the past few days had brought so much excitement, she couldn't possibly slow down now. And she knew that although Richard didn't make any obvious move to her or touch her suggestively, he was longing for more than chaste kisses at this point. She also knew that he would be too much of a gentleman to approach her when he'd have to assume that she was tired.

And, what was more, she wanted him, too.

So, when he turned around again, he found her standing right in front of him in the semi-darkness, a seductive little smile curved her lips, her hands slid under his jacket, stroking him lightly, and she whispered "Would you mind staying here, or does your sense of propriety dictate that we go upstairs?"