Richard huffed to himself for the umpteenth time as he tried to get himself comfortable again. Of course the Met did not spring for even the smallest of upgrades, so here he was, cramped up in his seat, and already missing Camille.
He's started to muse about his fastidious habits – lord had they really started when he first went to Cambridge? He suspected not, having been to a boarding school where he find solace in place and order.
Oh well thankfully there were no kicking children or drunken passengers to deal with, as he tried to drift off again.
The bedlam in Heathrow's immigration hall nearly sent his blood pressure off the charts, but as he struggled through the doors, thankful that his case had at least followed him to London, he didn't realise just how relieved he'd be to see his father waiting.
"Alright Son… good flight?" as he held out his hand.
"Yep – you know… cramped…" Richard tried to read his father's expression – was he happy to see him again so soon?
"Well I hope you aren't feeling too jetlagged – what started out as a "favourite snack" from your mother has turned into a full blown roast… chicken ok for you?"
"Oh god yes" Richard grinned in relief.
As they made their way into the house, it became aware that his father was almost… protecting him from his mother's attempts to quiz him on Camille. They chatted about the impending promotion, the duties – they shared a rolling of the eyes at the prospect of the amount of networking Richard would be expected to do with leading politicians and business contacts until finally Kate Poole sighed: "Oh for heaven's sake Michael enough… I need to talk to Richard about Camille."
Michael Poole shot his son a look: "Sorry Rich, I did try and hold it off for as long as possible!" he said grinning at him.
They retired to the front room and Richard braced himself for the barrage of questions – and he wasn't disappointed! He was stunned – his mother sounded like a speeded up record:
When did he realise he was in love with her, because he was, wasn't he? In love with her? Oh and what were their plans? How ever did he get the commissioner's permission? Wait, you're not going to be in trouble with The Met, no of course not, otherwise you wouldn't be back so soon, when can we come over to meet her, can we skype her… we have skype now…
When she finally paused for breath he burst out laughing.
"One thing at a time mum" smiling as his dad placed a small scotch in front of him.
"So… I asked her out on a couple of dates when I got back, but at the ball when the Commissioner told me about the new opportunity and asked me what it would take to stay, well let's just say the cunning old goat probably saw where the two of us were heading and decided to grease the wheels a bit."
They chatted a while about the house, Richard showing them some pictures as he tried to gear up the courage to ask his mother for a favour.
"Well, there is one thing I do need to ask – would it be ok, I mean, would you mind if I asked for Granny Cole's rings?"
Richard had been looking down coyly while he asked, and when he was aware of the lack of response he looked up to see his parents staring back at him wide eyed, and open mouthed in stunned silence
