It was hard work pushing the shiny new buggy up the hill with the sun beating down mercilessly, but Camille persevered. Little by little. Another few metres and then another pause to catch her breath. She would soon be there.

Her mother had thought she was crazy. "Mon Dieu, you've only just come out of hospital, you should be resting, not charging around."

But Camille had been determined. She had promised herself that the very first thing she would do once she got home would be to take the baby to visit Richard, and she would do it if it killed her. Not that there was any likelihood of that: the birth had been remarkably easy, given the narrowness of her hips, and she felt fine, if a little sore.

She peered anxiously into the buggy. The baby remained fast asleep, oblivious to his surroundings. She never got tired of looking at him, though when he was first born she had hardly dared to sneak a glance, so terrified had she been that he would look like her not Richard. But she need not have worried. Baby Richard had certainly inherited her nose and hair colour but his eyes were bluey-green and he had a little lopsided smile that nearly broke her heart. His skin was surprisingly pale too – she supposed he must have inherited her mother's genes as well as Richard's.

One final push and she got to the top of the hill. She paused for a moment, as she always did, to admire the stunning view, then parked the buggy at the gate and picked up the small bundle which was all that remained to her in this world of DI Richard Poole. The baby protested a little, but soon settled back into sleep in his mother's arms.

She picked her way carefully along the path until she reached the grave she sought. She was pleased to see that the rose bush she had planted was in full bloom with its glorious orange blossoms. It had taken some effort to encourage it to survive in the climate but it had definitely been worth it, she thought. She noticed with a smile that while she had been in hospital Fidel had refreshed the jug of white orchids which always kept Richard company. Dear Fidel. He didn't say much but she knew how keenly he missed the man who had been not only his mentor but also something of a father figure. However well he got on with DI Goodman (and he did, he was a good cop and did his job to the very best of his ability), Humphrey would never replace Richard – Fidel would never look up to and admire him in the same way.

"Well, Richard" she began "here we are, and this is your son, just as I promised – Richard Poole Bordey. He's so beautiful and quite perfect. I know all mothers think their babies are beautiful but he really is, everyone says so. He's going to grow up to break a few hearts, I think. And I see you in him every time I look at him. I emailed some photos to your parents and your mother sent me back some pictures of you when you were newborn. I can definitely see the likeness, even though his skin is obviously darker than yours was.

I'll be staying home with him for the first six months or so but then I'm going back to work. Juliet is going to look after him for me, so he'll be growing up with Rosie. I like that idea and I think you would too. And who knows, perhaps one day he and Rosie will find for themselves what we once had. I'm not going to have him baptised – I've thought long and hard about this. Something tells me that you wouldn't want him growing up a Catholic, so I'm just going to bring him up with some general Christian principles and then when he's old enough he can choose for himself whether or not he wants to become a member of the Catholic Church or the Church of England. I hope that's what you would want – maman doesn't approve at all, of course. But she's just thrilled to have a grandchild at last and you can be sure she will be a doting grandmother. And your parents are coming over next week to meet him too.

I promise I'll do my best to be a good mother and to bring him up as you would have wished. A good mixture of science, reason, instinct and emotion. If he has all those, he should turn out to be a wonderful boy. I'm just heartbroken that he will never get to meet his father, though of course I'll tell him all about you and he will be able to read about the cases you solved in the Museum. Yes, you have become something of a celebrity on Saint-Marie: the Director of the Museum wants to devote a small corner to you and your exploits, as you are far and away the most famous detective the island has ever had. I've donated your suit and tie and briefcase and Fidel and Dwayne are writing up all the case notes, so you will take your rightful place next to those pirates that you so despised.

Oh, and Father Charles and I have found the first recipient of the Richard Poole Memorial Scholarship. There's a boy in his final year at school and he has a place at De Montfort University in Leicester, near where your parents live, to study Forensic Science. He's the perfect candidate and we have decided to make the first award to him. I think you would be pleased.

I've kept Lucy and some of your books for baby Richard, when he is old enough. And of course I still have your pajamas next to me under the pillow in my bed. I so loved seeing you in them, they are just so you. I guess I'll keep them until they just disintegrate."

She stopped and silently contemplated the marble stone in front of her. Before she knew it the tears were once more running down her face. "Oh Richard, this isn't how we planned it, how it was supposed to be. Why aren't you here with me? Why do I have to raise our son alone?"

The baby stirred in her arms and gurgled. Her heart twisted when she saw the lopsided smile she had loved so much. She remembered the very last time she had seen it. He had asked her, yet again, if she was quite sure she wanted to be with him. No matter how many times she reassured him, he had always found it difficult to accept that out of all the men in the world she, Camille Bordey, had really chosen him, Richard Poole.

"Why do you find it so difficult to believe that I love you, Richard, and always will?" she had asked, half in despair.

There had been a long pause, and she had thought that he wasn't going to answer. He had stared fixedly at his feet but finally had raised his head to look at her and had spoken in a low and halting voice.

"When I was at school I wasn't popular. That won't surprise you at all, I'm sure. I was awkward, different to the others, had no social skills – well, you know it all. And I knew it of course. I so wanted to belong, to be accepted, but I didn't know how to go about it. The other boys teased and bullied me mercilessly, and my self-confidence was pretty much at rock bottom. And I had a bad case of acne, which didn't help either. Then there was this nun – yes, the same one – our house mistress. She was haranguing me one day for some petty misdemeanour and she told me to take a look in the mirror and that no woman would ever want someone like me. She was probably just being spiteful but I was at such a low ebb and at such an impressionable age that I believed her. And I guess it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. There was a girl at university that I was very keen on, but she didn't want to know, and I sort of thought well, Sister was obviously right, no point in trying any more, and I just gave up. And then you came along and … magically … everything changed and I thought perhaps, perhaps … but then you were so beautiful, out of my league, I felt. And now … I'm trying, really trying, to believe … to believe that a miracle could happen but all the time at the back of my mind I can still hear Sister's voice and … and it's been so many years and I … I can scarcely dare to hope that this time it's for real."

She had been crying before he had even finished and hugged him so tightly he could hardly breathe. "This is for real, Richard, my poor Richard. So many years believing no-one could possibly love you. That awful woman was wrong, completely wrong. How could she poison a young life like that? Well, at least you know now that there is one woman who most definitely does want you and always will. Is that enough convince you?"

He had nodded slowly and that was when the crooked smile had lit up his face. She had thrown herself into his arms for the longest kiss they had ever shared. That had been the day before the reunion party had arrived. The day before …

She dabbed haphazardly at her eyes but it was too difficult while holding the baby so in the end just stood and let the tears fall uninterrupted. Eventually the flow ceased and with an effort she composed herself again.

"So, Richard, there will always be a part of me that lives in the past, but you must understand that I have our son to take care of and must look to the future now. Rest in peace, my darling, and we'll see you again soon."

And with a final, lingering glance she turned away to start the rest of her life.