Chapter 2 – Safely Landed
The aircraft was getting ready for landing, and Richard moved gently to fasten his seatbelt and wake up Camille so she could buckle up, too. His parents were already awake, and his mother made a remark about how glad she was that the flight was coming to an end. Richard silently agreed with her. He was trying not to think of the heat and the humidity that he'd have to face once they'd be outside. He was glad that he didn't wear a woollen suit this time… that had clearly made his time on Saint Marie more miserable than necessary.
This time, however, he was here for holidays, so he could wear more casual clothing. It still would be hot and troublesome, but at least he wouldn't have to suffer sweating bullets in a stupid suit, and someone else would sweep out the sand. And he wouldn't have to spend his nights in the company of a green lizard in a stuffy shack on the beach. No, he'd stay in a nice little hotel that had comfortable, air-conditioned rooms and modern amenities, and his wife – who happened to be the most beautiful woman he had ever met – would be with him.
Camille had booked them into a family run hotel in Honoré, near the beach. They had only about 12 rooms. Actually, these rooms were more like bungalows, spread out in a landscaped area right near the beach. A restaurant that also was used as breakfast room was part of the hotel, too. The beach was public, but the hotel gave out sunbeds and beach umbrellas for a small fee, and there was a little bar as well, so everything would be very comfortable.
Richard knew the place, although he had never really been inside. The bungalows looked nice on the website, they were private, they were air-conditioned, there was a kitchen cabinet as well where you could store snacks and put the kettle on for some tea and a fridge for storing cold drinks… so he hadn't had any objections when Camille had suggested the place once they had started to make plans for the trip in October.
He had been surprised at first that she didn't want to stay at one of the posh resorts – after all, it was their first real holiday trip together, apart from brief weekend getaways, and he had been ready and willing to splurge on it. Not that he would have cared much about all the extras, but he had thought she might want to get massages, enjoy spa treatments or try a new watersport, but no…
She had been a bit "hum and haw" about her reasons for a while, muttering that she'd feel like an alien on her home island if they stayed in a resort, but then she finally had blurted out "Well, you don't want your fiancée to be mistaken for the maid, do you?"
He had been flabbergasted, but then she had gone on to explain "You remember all the fancy places where people got killed… like the bride in our first real case together? All the paying guests were rich white people, and the maids and staff – including that butler! - were Caribbean. Obviously – because the resorts mostly employ locals, particularly in the housekeeping department. There wasn't a single Caribbean guest, and I got some really funny looks when I went there for investigations. It seemed it was only acceptable that I showed up there when I was with you or flashed my police badge… That doesn't sound so great, does it? The hotel I want us to book is middle class, and they have guests from the Caribbean – not from Saint Marie, obviously, but from Guadeloupe, Martinique, Antigua and other islands -, the UK, France and the States, so it's more of a mixed crowd… and I wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb…"
Interesting enough, he had never seen it that way as he didn't really think in those categories (well, if they wanted to talk about categories, he had always thought of her as 'French'!), but once she had pointed it out, he had understood. He had mentioned the spa treatments, massages and watersports to her, however – and she had snuggled up to him and said (apparently entirely seriously!) "Well, I could always book a surfboard or some other device at another place, and I'm hopeful that if I behave myself, you could be convinced to give me a massage… or some other entirely personalised wellness treatment… what do you think?"
He had arched his eyebrows and said with his most solemn voice "I will consider it… but you'll really have to make an effort to be on your best behaviour!" She had punched him, and they had ended up in a turbulent mock fight – that he had won because he had tickled her mercilessly until she had been out of breath.
Camille had brought so much laughter into his life… Richard still was a stickler for details, cranky, reserved and stuffy at times, but in general, he was much more relaxed now, and his deadpan humour came out more and more often. He hadn't noticed, but his team in the International Department had, and they all had agreed on how he looked so much younger and more relaxed now that he was obviously happy.
He also was more physically active now – the doctors in rehab had advised him to exercise more regularly, and he had taken their advice to heart (literally… after the stabbing, he had gone through cardiac arrest, and exercising had been vital in rehab), so he had taken up a few activities, and he was in better shape now than he had been when he had lived on Saint Marie. So, that added to his more positive presence as well.
He hadn't been in the department for very long yet before Camille had arrived, but he had had the reputation of being overly correct, starchy, eccentric and peculiar. Nevertheless, his immediate co-workers as well as Superintendent Potter hadn't found him all that difficult to work with – he could be a bit of a pain sometimes, but he also was reliable and absolutely fair…
And Richard liked working in this department… teaching was more his thing than he had anticipated, and he didn't mind any more having to go to the occasional 'event' where he had to represent the police. He had realised that there was truth in the old saying that practice makes perfect. He'd never like having to butter up people, but he was good in rational discussions and could convince people with facts – so buttering them up wasn't all that necessary, after all… He had really been lucky with how things had developed for him. He had gone through rough times – but it had all worked out well in the end.
He was deeply grateful for how his life had unfolded…
In the meantime, the plane had landed, and the passengers all headed to the hall where the evil luggage carousel was waiting.
Richard's mind returned to reality and its immediate challenges. Well, hopefully, his luggage would arrive this time around and not disappear… He had flown to Saint Marie twice before, and both times his suitcase had vanished. Maybe, today, the spell would be broken, and he'd experience a caseof third time lucky…
Florence Cassell glanced at the clock in the departure hall of the small Saint Marie airport. Well, the notion 'departure hall' was an exaggeration. Actually, there only was one hall for arrivals and departures. It was divided into two by a row of potted plants, so you could walk freely between both sections. Saint Marie wasn't particularly well-known for its accuracy when it came to following 'rules' and 'orders', and that was mirrored in its public buildings.
She sighed and turned around. It was always hard to say farewell to a loved one… She had just taken one of her domineering older brothers – she had five of them! – to the airport, together with his family, and said goodbye… they had come over for the holidays, and it had been such fun to have them around. However, if she was entirely honest… it was also good to see them go again!
Donny's wife Celia was nice, but a little haughty sometimes, and the kids were developing rapidly into spoilt brats. Most of the time, Florence didn't mind, but it could get a bit annoying in the long run. She hadn't had any privacy since the two little girls had occupied her room during their stay, and they had enjoyed turning everything upside down. She had hidden her make-up, the nail polish, her mp3 player and all other things that she hadn't wanted them to put their hands on, but still they had created an incredible mess in her room.
She shuddered when she remembered how Sissy and Minnie had tried on all her bras and dragged them around in the house – they were only 9 and 7, so they didn't need a bra yet, but they had thought it was funny to dig into their aunt's box of underwear. Donny had only laughed, and Celia had raised her eyebrows, making snarky remarks about Florence's colourful lingerie. It had been really, really annoying.
She loved them, anyway. Family was very important to her. Only recently, she had wished she could escape the hustle and bustle at home every once in a while. Her brothers all had flown the nest, but while Donny – the eldest – and Marvin had left the island and lived on Antigua and Martinique respectively, the others still lived on Saint Marie (though not in Honoré, fortunately!) and came to visit the parents regularly, sometimes with their spouses and children, sometimes by themselves. She was the only one who still lived at home. She was in her mid 20s, single and unattached, and her parents wouldn't hear of her moving away to live on her own.
The way it was, she couldn't even date anybody seriously at this point as everyone she might want to see would have to meet her parents immediately (and would perhaps get scared away!), and she couldn't take anybody home with her to just sit and talk… or spend the night… if things ever got that far. But for the moment, she didn't have any other choice… She spent a lot of her spare time with her team, anyway, and maybe something would come up for her so she could get her own space. It had been a lucky strike to land a job here in Honoré, and she loved it, but in some ways, it would have been better to get a position on another island…
Ah well. It was useless to dwell on that. She crossed the line of potted plants to go and get her favourite magazine at the newsstand. It was imported from France, so a lot of places didn't supply it, and she could only rely on getting it here – and since she was here now, that was the perfect opportunity.
The newsstand was at the other end of the hall. She saw a bunch of passengers coming out of the hall where the luggage carousel was located. Those were apparently the laggers of the flight that had arrived from France a while ago…
That reminded her of Catherine Bordey's invitation for dinner on the next evening… Catherine had invited her and the complete team so they could celebrate Camille's return to the island – for a holiday only, but she had been away for half a year, and Catherine was excited to have her back, even if it would only be for two weeks…. So she wanted to celebrate.
Florence had offered to pick up Camille, but Catherine had turned down the offer as Camille would be coming with 'friends' and share a rental car with them to get to her accommodation – an enigmatic smile had been on her face when she had disclosed this to Florence. Her colleague JP had been relieved to hear that he wouldn't have to give up his room – he currently lived in Catherine's house, in the room that had been Camille's before she had left for her new job in France…
Obviously, she was coming over with several people, and whoever it was, Florence hoped they would be good company and keep Camille busy… She liked her, really, and she was looking forward to seeing her again and hearing about her adventures, but the atmosphere in the team had shifted since she had left, and everything had become so much easier – especially now that a few months had passed, and Camille's overwhelming shadow had began to fade a little… so her own light had had a chance to shine a little more…
And sometimes she had felt that her boss had developed deeper feelings for her – although she couldn't be sure… In any case, they spent a lot of time together, and he was lots of fun to be with. So, that was nice – and it made going to work so much more enjoyable!
Besides her, there was only one more customer at the newsstand – a middle aged gentleman with thinning hair and light skin, dressed in dark chinos and a light blue shirt with short sleeves. The top button of his shirt was open, a grey jumper was placed around his shoulders, and he carried a black duffle bag. He finally picked a home decoration magazine – not quite what Florence would have expected, considering his appearance and demeanour. She had figured he'd purchase one of the computer magazines. Well, that was another lesson in "don't judge a book by the cover". He wasn't the type for "Men's Health", but "Metropolitan Home" still seemed like an odd choice…
Whatever… Florence pulled out her phone to see if she had received any text messages and slowly ambled to the cashier.
The other customer stood in front of her, awkwardly fiddling around with his wallet until he had finally paid his purchase and then turned around to leave – and much to Florence's embarrassment, that was when her attempt at multi tasking – juggling the phone, her water bottle and the magazine in one hand as well as trying to fix her barrette and clip her hair into place with the other hand – failed epically and everything fell to the floor.
The gentleman reacted immediately – before Florence could even think about making a move, he had bent down to help her pick up her belongings, and then they both were crouching on the floor for a moment. When they were standing up again and Florence began to thank her saviour, she looked into the most amazing green eyes she had ever seen – she was so stunned that she stopped mid-sentence. An amused glance met her eyes, and the man just nodded and said quietly, with a crisp British accent, "You are welcome" before he turned around and disappeared.
Open-mouthed, Florence stood and watched him stride away into the direction of the rental car counter… he stood there for a moment, nodded as the clerk behind the counter explained something to him and then marched out of the hall. Florence hurried to pay her magazine and went after him to thank him more properly, but all she could see was that he opened the door to sit on the passenger seat of a car that was waiting for him – and then the car zoomed off.
She shook her head and tried to shrug off the incident. But she couldn't help it, those eyes came back to haunt her all evening long.
Richard, however, had forgotten all about the incident the moment he had left the newsstand. He had other things on his mind. Much to his surprise, his case had been delivered this time around… so at least he wouldn't have to spend the first few days on Saint Marie in the same clothes. Or – probably worse – in bright coloured, island-y shirts, as Camille had threatened. He knew that she knew that he disliked them, and he hoped that she wouldn't go and buy him a bunch of those ghastly garments, but with her, you never could be sure.
As a precaution, he had packed a few extra items in his hand luggage, anyway, so he would be prepared for the worst case scenario. Camille had teased him to no end about his obsession and laughed triumphantly when his case had showed up as one of the first on the carousel, but he had just snorted at her and ignored her remarks.
They had all been on the way to the rental car counter when his mother had suddenly turned around to ask him if he could do her a favour and get a magazine for her as she hadn't packed a book… so he had sighed and gone back to the newsstand. Camille had taken it upon her to fill out all the forms, load her parents-in-law in a taxi, along with their suitcases, and pick up the car that they would use during their stay. They had agreed on renting only one car between the four of them, but it wasn't big enough for four people and four suitcases, so for the transport from the airport to Honoré (and back), a taxi was needed.
When Richard finally came out of the building, the horn of a waiting car sounded impatiently, and with a smile, he opened the door to the passenger side and jumped in.
A split second later, the car spurted off, and two seconds later, he found himself barking at Camille "Really, Camille, how do you do that – you manage to hit the only pothole on this goddamn route! Hasn't your stay in Europe taught you how to drive in a more civilised manner?"
She retorted with a gleam in her eyes "You've only just arrived, and you're already grumpy – if you don't behave yourself, I'll stop right here and leave you in the shrubbery!"
He pulled a face, and she gave him a sideways glance. She couldn't help but laugh when she saw the look in his eyes. It said wordlessly, but very clearly that he wasn't grumpy… but he didn't dare to open his mouth and say it. You never knew with Camille…
"Don't worry, Richard – I may be evil, but I'm not that bad…"
"You are, and you know it," he replied sulkingly. "And I know all about it, too. Don't forget that I worked with you for two years over here… You always took me to places I didn't want to go to!"
"Ah yes, that's right… thanks for reminding me! Somehow that seems so far away that it has escaped my mind," she responded flippantly, looked into the rear mirror and suddenly pulled into a small side street where she shut off the engine. For a moment, Richard wondered what she was up to, but he didn't have to wait for very long to be enlightened.
Camille released her seatbelt and turned to him, a little smile on her face. She shifted in her seat, grabbed the seam of her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. She wore a bright yellow camisole underneath, a golden chain was around her neck, with a small pendant tantalisingly dangling an inch away from her neckline – an emerald set in gold, matching her engagement ring. This had been Richard's wedding gift for her.
His eyes got wide as she got rid of the sweatshirt and threw it on the backseat.
"Ah, this is so much better. It's hot, even with the A/C on…" she sighed with relief and then laughed when she saw him looking at her in confusion. "Oh Richard – if you could see the look on your face! Well, where were we? Oh… yes… I had almost forgotten that we've worked together here on Saint Marie… And you always were horribly grumpy! But things are different now, aren't they, Richard?" A little smile appeared on her face. "And I can do now what I should have done much, much earlier already… say, three years ago or so… and you're not going to run away or get all flustered…"
And with that, she leant over to kiss him tenderly. Her hand curled around his neck, and he just hoped she had pulled the hand brake properly. Then he didn't really waste any more time on rational thinking and kissed her back – with much feeling. Camille's left hand was in his hair, and he felt her fingers stroking the nape of his neck, the other one caressed his flank, then moved to his chest, flipped another button of his shirt open – then he caught it before she could venture further.
When she broke away, she whispered "Welcome back to Saint Marie, Richard…", and he smiled and replied softly "Thank you. So much better than the original welcome all those years ago…"
She laughed and touched his temple with her lips, asking "Do you think you would have liked it better here if I had greeted you like this?" He chuckled in response and said "Probably. But all I got when I arrived was the Commissioner shaking his head in disbelief and Lily rolling her eyes at the sight of me… not exactly enticing, you know!" She smiled, and they kissed once again.
A few minutes later, they continued their trip to Honoré – in companionable silence, both smiling happily.
This would be a fun holiday – for both of them.