Chapter 1 – Back to the Island
It was late December, Christmas was just over. The little pillows in the aircraft were encased in holiday themed covers – Father Christmas, reindeers, stars and mistletoes. Camille took one of them and stuffed it between between her neighbour's shoulder and her head – maybe this would do the trick, and she'd finally get some rest. It was a 9 hour flight from Paris to Saint Marie, less than half of it was over, and she was tired. The past few days had been wonderful, but also exhausting…
Once again, Camille was on a plane … It seemed like she was constantly travelling these days!
This time, she was going to Saint Marie, and she was not on her own. Together with her three companions, she was sitting in one of the the centre rows on the aircraft, trying to sleep a little. The aisle seats were occupied by two gentlemen – one was early middle age, the other one elderly, but not frail. Both had the same amazing green eyes and wore the same expression of resignation mixed with a slight crankiness, so it was easy to see that they were father and son. Next to Camille, in the other centre seat, an elderly lady with friendly grey eyes was leafing through a magazine.
Camille – in jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt - closed her eyes, pulled up the blanket that the flight attendant had given her, and snuggled up to the pillow.
Richard shifted a little so it was more comfortable for her and slipped his hand under the blanket to hold hers. She squeezed his fingers lightly and smiled when she touched his ring.
Her husband… she was relishing the word, repeating it in her mind, spelling it out, emphasising the different syllables… in French and in English, several times, over and over. It was amazing how much happiness and satisfaction this was bringing her!
She felt giddy at the thought of being a "wife" now… Richard's wife. Who would have thought that would happen so quickly after her move to Europe?
Her mind wandered back to the last weekend of November… it had happened to be the first weekend of this year's Advent season. They had come home from one of the Christmas markets that had become so popular over the past few years. Paris had several Christmas markets, and they had explored a smaller one that was held on a small square not far from the Musée d'Orsay. It had been crowded, but fun – Richard hadn't been so keen on joining the masses for this event, but even he had enjoyed the atmosphere and the different stalls.
As they had left the grounds and moved on to cross the street to get to their metro station, they had witnessed an accident – a young man hadn't been careful and got hit by a car. His partner had screamed and started to cry, someone had called an ambulance. A doctor in the crowd had come to help and get the young man comfortable, and Camille had comforted the young woman - she had held her hand until the ambulance had arrived and the paramedics had taken care of the injured man. When he had been taken away, the woman had thanked Camille and hopped into the car… The crowd had started to dissolve, and an old lady next to Camille had casually said "I hope they are married. Otherwise, she'll have a hard time making the doctors tell her what's happening to him…"
Camille had translated this to Richard later on. His French had become considerably better over the past months – thanks to the regular meetings in Paris and the weekends he had spent there, he had picked up quite a bit. Plus he practiced by watching French TV. But he still couldn't understand everything, particularly if people talked quickly and used colloquial language or abbreviations. His accent left a lot to be desired – much to his frustration! - but people acknowledged that he made an effort, and often they answered him in English to make it easier for him or spoke slowly so he could understand.
The old lady's words had made them both think. They had remembered how he had been taken away in an ambulance on Saint Marie, and how Camille had only received information from the doctors because she worked for the police.
On the metro back home, they had talked about other things, but when they had eaten dinner and cuddled up on the sofa afterwards, they had returned to the topic of the accident, and Richard had said thoughtfully "That old lady has a point. Just imagine, how awful it must be when your partner has an accident or is taken seriously ill, and you can't get information because you're not related or married… that's horrible!" Camille had nodded and confirmed "Terrifying. I don't even want to think about it!"
After a few minutes, Richard had continued "Camille, if anything ever happened to you over here I would panic – and I think I wouldn't even know how to make myself understood. And they wouldn't be obliged to give me information or get it translated for me because we're not married." He had taken her hand and said once again "Awful."
When they had had breakfast on the next morning and Camille had turned to do the washing up, Richard had taken a dishtowel and started to polish a plate. Camille could see that some cogwheels had begun to move in his head, and she had waited for him to tell her what was on his mind.
Finally, he had come out with it and asked "Why aren't we getting married now, Camille?" She had stared at him, not quite sure if she had understood him. He had set the plate on the worktop, put his hands on her shoulders and said "What are we waiting for? I mean, where's the point? We want to get married, don't we, and neither you nor myself are keen on a big wedding, anyway, so we might as well get it done quietly now… What do you think?"
She hadn't quite known what to say. On one hand, he had been right – they didn't want a big fancy do. On the other hand, she had known that his parents as well as her mother would be disappointed – and she hadn't wanted that, either.
Before she had been able to express her thoughts, he had understood. His fingers had slid down her arms, and he had taken her wet, soapy hands in his. "We could have a small civil ceremony here, together with Mum and Dad, and then we'll go on our holiday on Saint Marie, just the way we had planned, anyway – and your mother could arrange a party there, combined with a blessing in church or whatever they call it – so the party would be some kind of reception …."
They both had agreed a few months ago that they wouldn't really want to have a church wedding with the usual paraphernalia. Camille was Catholic, and Richard was Church of England, and neither of them was a regular church goer or firmly 'rooted' in their faith. Richard had said that he refused to use the church as a stage for a "show", set up for a large audience, and Camille had fully understood his point of view. She saw it the same way. To her, getting married was about the promise, not about the dress, the flowers or the gifts.
Once the idea had been planted into their heads, it hadn't left them alone any more. By the end of the weekend, Camille had agreed to sort out the formalities and find out which documents they'd need to get married in a civil ceremony, preferably before the holidays, so they could go to Saint Marie with Margaret and Robert and celebrate with their friends there.
Margaret had loved the idea of going back to the Caribbean under more positive circumstances, and Robert also had been interested to see where his son had spent two years of his life, so it hadn't been too hard to convince them.
The trip had been planned several months ago already – Robert and Margaret had been so disappointed when their plans to travel to Italy in the summer had fallen through, so Richard and Camille had asked them if they wanted to come with them to Saint Marie.
They hadn't known it would be their honeymoon at that point – but since Richard's parents were rather independent, all would be easy. They wouldn't expect their son and Camille to wait on them and be at their beck and call all the time – they'd go their own ways and spend time on their own or with acquaintances that they'd make, too.
They had figured that Catherine, Camille's mother, would perhaps be a little miffed because she couldn't attend her only daughter's wedding - but then again, she had always been supportive, so with some luck, she would just accept their decision and make the best of it by organising a nice party with all their friends.
And indeed, when they had mentioned it to her, she had been all supportive, saying that they should do what was best for them, and as long as they'd let her plan a party for them, she'd be happy.
Camille was very grateful for her mother's relaxed attitude. She had asked her mother to invite the current team of the police station, including the Commissioner – she and Richard owed him so much! – and she also wanted her to invite the Bests. She knew that Fidel and Juliet would come over from St. Lucia for the holidays – she was still in touch with them, and Fidel had been excited to learn that they would come to visit this time, too. He hadn't seen Camille in a year, and the last he had seen of Richard had been when he had been transported to hospital – and everyone had thought he was dead. That had been almost 2 years ago…
Since then, a lot had happened. Camille had moved to Europe half a year ago so she could be near Richard. During the past months, she had worked partly in the UK, partly in France – she had become a member of the international department and mostly focused on teaching in the UK, in Richard's team – who was now the deputy of the Crime Academy's department that organised courses and lectures for the Met. Camille had been promoted to "Lieutenant de Police" in the "Corps de commandement" of the Police Nationale – and Richard had delightedly started to call her "Inspecteur" in private, although that was not the official form of address any longer these days.
She also had administrative tasks in the French department. Her boss, a very lenient man named Leblanc, was very pleased with her performance – Camille was full of energy and had come up with a cartload of suggestions to improve and change things. Some of them even had been realised… Leblanc's superior, Madame Dubois, was just as bossy as Camille, but since they respected each other, they got on amazingly well, so Leblanc pretty much had no chance when the two of them had set their mind on something. The truth was that he didn't care – as long as they let him live and brought him the occasional treat to bribe him, he didn't mind.
So, she had been commuting to London regularly where she held classes, and Richard had come to Paris for meetings and conferences… that way, they had seen each other regularly.
It could get a little hectic, and it wasn't always easy, but they made the best of it. At least they weren't separated for months any more, and there was only one hour time difference now. Compared to what they had had to go through with Camille on Saint Marie and Richard in the UK, this was nothing, and they were happy. It never occurred to them to complain about the arrangement – all things considered, it was perfect for the moment.
Sometimes, they had the chance to spend two entire weeks together, at other times, it was a week per month – and they usually managed to spend two weekends per month together, at least. They went to museums or exhibits together, Richard met Camille's old and new friends, Camille had started to go running while Richard attended the tai chi classes he had taken up again, they went walking, hiking and bicycling… or they just spent time together in Richard's house or Camille's flat, reading, watching TV, pottering around and wasting time together. So, all in all, they had developed a nice little routine, both in Paris and in London.
They had got engaged in the summer, when Camille had come over from Saint Marie, and while they had tried to keep it a secret for as long as possible, it had finally come out in autumn.
One day in October, Sergeant Liz Andrews had admired Camille's beautiful ring – it didn't really look like an engagement ring, though - that had been one of the reasons why they had been able to hide it for so long.
Andrews had asked innocently if Camille had got it in France because it had a special something about it, and Camille – who had been thinking about an incident in class that morning - had replied absentmindedly "No, Richard got it here in London". With that, she had blown it, and there was no way to take it back.
The young woman had beamed at her and said "So, you and the Chief are engaged? Blimey, I should have known…" And she had told her how she had seen Richard and Camille walking away from the station one day in summer… his arm had been around her shoulders, and they had chatted and laughed together.
"That didn't look much like you were friends," Andrews had said. "No, I can imagine," Camille had replied, a little embarrassed. "And you know, it's obvious that he's a lot more relaxed when you are around," the red-headed sergeant had mentioned – and hastened to add "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but you know how – er – irritable he can be sometimes…"
Camille had just pulled a face and said "No worries, Liz – I know… Who else has a hunch, for that matter?"
"Oh, I haven't mentioned it to anyone… do you think the Chief would appreciate if we…"
"No," Camille had replied before Liz Andrews had been able to finish her question. "Definitely not. You're talking about a man who dodged his own birthday party. He's not keen on being the centre of attention, so you wouldn't do him a favour by arranging a surprise party. Just ignore it if you can – he'd be dead embarrassed if you organised anything…"
Nevertheless, Liz Andrews had been determined to do something. She really liked Richard, and she adored Camille. As it had turned out later, she had discussed the issue with the other sergeants who shared the office with her, and she and Shaw had made the rounds in the department, collecting money for a gift voucher. Everybody had contributed happily – Richard was much more popular than he knew, and Camille's warmth and friendliness had conquered people's hearts quickly.
Superintendent Potter – the 'man with the shocking socks', as Camille liked to call him secretly – apparently had arched his eyebrows so they had almost reached his receding hairline when Shaw had knocked on his door to ask for a donation, then taken out his wallet and laconically put a banknote in the piggy bank that had made Michael's eyes pop out of his head. Wow, the Superintendent was feeling generous, indeed!
Potter, by the same token, had smiled inwardly. He had been suspicious from the start, but they had never let on that they were more than friends and good colleagues. Poole and Bordey had proved that they both had discipline and professionalism, and Potter had found that impressive and commendable.
Thanks to his bountiful contribution, a generous gift card for one of the most upscale restaurants in the area had been purchased, and one morning – when Camille and Richard had entered the department's meeting room together, ready for the forthcoming talks and acting all professionally – they had been greeted by the entire team standing up in a row, with Potter at the end of the line, holding a gift bag with a bottle of champagne, a card and the gift voucher in one hand and a little flower bouquet in the other.
They had been speechless – then Richard's face had turned crimson, Camille had beamed, and Potter had cleared his throat. He had said "We know you don't like to make a fuss, so we're not making one, either. We've heard from reliable sources that you – er – got engaged, and we'd like to congratulate you and wish you all the best for a happy future together…"
With that, he had given Camille the flowers, with a respectful nod and a brief "Inspector", and Richard had been handed the gift bag, with a twinkle and a sly grin… Everybody had clapped their hands and cheered, and for a moment, Richard had looked like he wished for the ground to swallow him up.
Camille had surreptitiously taken his hand, and Richard had tried to say something, but it had taken him two attempts to finally utter a feeble "Thank you – er – I don't quite know what to say… It's very – er – kind of you…" Andrews had nudged Shaw and furtively pointed her chin at Richard's fingers fumbling around nervously with the handles of the gift bag, and Shaw had suppressed a grin. He had remembered how he had picked up Camille at the airport a few months ago – back then, he had wondered how she and the Chief might be connected… Neither of them had ever let on anything, but now that they had been caught off guard, their feelings had become more than obvious…
Potter had then left the meeting room, they all had sat down, and Richard had cleared his throat to go ahead with the agenda.
And that had been all.
But there hadn't been a single person in the room who hadn't been touched by the glance that Richard and Camille had exchanged when Potter had spoken up and they had understood what this gathering had been about. They had looked at one another with unconcealed love… and Liz Andrews had taken out a tissue to dab her eyes.
After that, it had been business as usual, but something had shifted. Now, that they had been out in the open, so to speak, they had talked about getting married more often. And the weekend of the Christmas market had been the final straw.
Much to Camille's surprise, everything had worked out – and things had proceeded quickly! They had been able to get an appointment for a civil ceremony on the Friday afternoon just before Christmas – the clerk in charge had said that nobody wanted to get married at that time of the year, so they even could choose the time – and Richard and his parents had come over the evening before by train. They had brought along their luggage for the trip to Saint Marie as they'd leave right after the holidays.
Robert and Margaret had stayed in a hotel in Paris, and on the Friday, after Camille had finished her work and got changed – she had left early so she'd have time enough – they all had gone to the small town hall of the district where they lived… and she and Richard had got married. Besides the registrar, a translator had been present, but other than that, it had only been Camille, Richard and his parents – who also had acted as witnesses.
Camille had worn an elegant suit in a becoming dark shade of rose, and Richard had looked very handsome in a dark three piece suit, white dress shirt and a tie that matched Camille's attire. There had also been a small bouquet of cream coloured roses, but given the fact that they'd leave for Saint Marie so soon, Camille had insisted that getting a big bouquet would be a waste of money… Richard had smiled at this pragmatic approach, and Margaret's objections had remained unheeded. They had chosen simple golden wedding bands, nothing glitzy or flashy, and Camille now wore her engagement ring on one hand and the wedding band on the other.
Christmas had been celebrated in their small flat. As Robert's and Margaret's hotel had been located just around the corner, they had sat up until the wee hours, talked and laughed… and Camille couldn't help but remember last Christmas. It had been then that Richard and she had really jumped into the deep end together – they really had committed to one another then… and everything had changed in their lives…
And now they were on the plane to Saint Marie… She felt Richard's hand holding hers under the blanket, lightly – yet reliably - , and she smiled happily as she slowly drifted away into dreamland.