He found her staring forlornly at the table. Catherine was thankfully nowhere to be seen and the boys had also had the good sense to leave. The bar still had some customers but they didn't seem to be paying any particular attention to him, he surmised that he was safe (for now) from prying eyes and eavesdropping. All he wanted to do was to climb into bed with Camille and forget about the evening, to tell her that he loved her and perhaps show her, if she would let him. He was therefore hopeful when he walked up to her and asked, "can we go home now?"
All hopes of his latter thoughts faded immediately though when she pushed her chair away from the table and started back for the corridor they had met in earlier. He followed calling after her, "Camille? Camille!" When she finally turned around he looked at her in confusion and said "are we staying here?"
"No, I am staying here. You are going home." Who the hell did he think he was to come over to her after he had been flirting with another woman all evening and demand to be taken home like a bored child? Did he have any idea what he had put her through?
"What are you talking about? Camille, don't be stupid, come on." She was furious. Of course she was, had he really, honestly expected anything else?
"I'm being stupid?" Her voice raised a couple of notches. "I've just had to watch you flirt your way through a date with someone my mother set you up with, and I'm being stupid?"
He could see that it was going to be a struggle keeping this particular fight contained, he was grateful that they were no longer at the table, although he still had no idea why it was his fault that she was upset. This was what she wanted. He tried to calm her down. "Fine, not stupid but you are being a bit hasty with your judgement...and I wasn't flirting. You don't even know what we were talking about."
"I don't need to know what you were talking about Richard. All I do know is that you clearly really liked her."
"Yes, she was nice..." then judging from her expression, he realised that that might not have been the right thing to say, added quickly, "but I would have much rather been with you all evening."
"Really Richard? At what moment during your date were you thinking about me? Perhaps it was when she looked over and laughed at me or maybe it was when she kissed you, or perhaps when she told you to call her?"
He wasn't very good at determining sarcasm from her, although he was pretty good at dishing it out, but he certainly got that. "What? We weren't laughing at you – why on earth would we laugh at you?"
"We? So you're a we now?"
He threw his hands up in the air. "Of course not. Now you're being ridiculous."
"Don't you dare call me ridiculous."
Reasoning with her when she was like this was clearly not an option and they were very quickly heading towards a full scale blow out argument, which would make their relationship blatantly clear to anyone within ear shot of them. He tried to keep his voice down, but his annunciation made it clear that he was frustrated. "I don't have another word for you when you are like this. The idea that you could lump me in to some sort of liaison with a woman I've known for an hour is absurd. And we were categorically not laughing at you."
"Oh, what were you laughing about then?" She was defiant and the sheepish look that appeared on his face and then disappeared within a millisecond did nothing to dispel her fear. Her voice went up a notch again both in volume and in pitch. "Do you even realise that you were flirting with her?" He was staring at her, unable to believe that Camille, incredible, beautiful, strong and vibrant Camille was insecure enough about them to have constructed a fictional slant on the evening's earlier events. His mouth dropped open and all he could do was stare at her. She looked triumphant. "You don't even have the decency to deny it."
He was being pushed to the limit. "I shouldn't need to deny it because you should trust me a little more."
"I do trust you Richard, but I don't like the idea of being cheated on, especially when it's happening in front of my face."
"How could I possibly cheat on you with a woman I met at a bar, especially when you've been watching us all evening? Anyway, you've been the one that keeps pretending that we're not in a relationship."
"No I haven't."
He finally lost his temper. "Oh, for Christ's sake Camille. You don't want anyone to know about us; you make me go on a date with another woman; then you stalk me the entire time I'm on the date. Oh and by the way you couldn't have been more obvious about that than if you'd tried. You want to know what she was laughing about? That's what she was laughing about. She thought that you were my ex and that you were spying on me. When she found out you were my girlfriend she was actually bloody magnanimous about the whole thing considering that she's basically been dragged on a massive time wasting exercise by your mother. She even agreed to cut the date short so that I could spend some time with you. But a fat lot of good that's done, all you want to do is run away from me. From us."
Camille was used to him losing his temper but never like this. All she could manage was, "she knows too?"
"Of course she knows – I hadn't told her that I was single, she'd just assumed. I know you don't want anyone to know that we're together but when I'm asked a direct question from a girl whose been set up on a wild goose chase of a date by your mother, then I don't exactly feel comfortable lying. Even if you do."
"So you told her?"
Something niggled at him and he backed up a little. "Wait, you said knows too." Now it was her time to look sheepish. "Camille, who else knows?"
There was no point lying now. She was pretty sure it was all going to come out soon. "Dwayne and Fidel."
"Dwayne and Fidel know?" He bellowed so loudly that it startled her a little. "How the hell do Dwayne and Fidel know?" She had heard him swear a little, she had always found it endearing because it was so quintessentially English. But hearing him shout at her like this made him sound callous and only highlighted how angry he was.
"Don't you dare shout at me Richard. And I don't know how they know. I guess they just do. You haven't exactly been subtle."
"I haven't been subtle? I haven't been..." he was exasperated. "...so this is my fault? You're the one that has been stalking me for the entire evening; you couldn't even leave me alone for an hour. And I'm the one who hasn't been subtle. Jesus, Camille do you have any idea what you've just put me through, all so that you can lie to your mother. Your mother! The one person who should actually be happy for us and you don't want to tell her!
"Why would you want to be left alone for an hour Richard? What would you have done?"
"Oh for God's..." He took a deep breath and ran both his hands through his hair. "Nothing, Camille. I wouldn't have done anything."
"So you're saying you didn't find her attractive?"
"Yes that's exactly what I'm saying."
There was silence between the two of them. She knew that she had gone too far this time, but didn't really know how to rectify the situation. She made a cack-handed attempt to make it right before it was too late, but the words seemed childish to her. "It just seemed like you were happy talking to her."
"I was happy talking to her Camille." Then stopped, he knew that this line of conversation could start her off again. "Why would you think that I wouldn't be happy talking to someone?"
She shrugged, almost too embarrassed to talk. "I don't know. I guess I'm just so used to you being happy with me and irritable with everyone else that it's just strange to see you actually smiling at someone without jumping to conclusions."
He was beginning to understand why she was so upset. After all, if the roles had been reversed he knew that he would have been just as angry. "I didn't realise I was being different. I just. It's just..." He gathered his thoughts and tried again, had to try again even if he didn't want to, he knew she liked it when he told her things he would never admit to anyone else. "It was just nice to be able to talk to someone who understands where I come from. Who I am. I hardly know anyone out here, and I know I didn't socialise a lot with anyone back in London but I never felt alone because I never had anyone to show me what it felt like to be loved. And now I have, all I can think about is how lonely I am when I'm not with you. And its fine at the moment, but in a year or two or five are you really still going to want to be spending every waking moment with me? I need to get to know new people. People we can be friends with. I'm sorry that you thought, you know... Camille? I really am..."
She found it adorable that he wanted to try so badly to please her and looked at him, realisation finally dawning on her. "You feel lonely?"
"Yes. No." He was embarrassed. "A bit. Just...just when I'm not with you – I just want you to feel like you don't have to look after me anymore. So, if it's ok with you, perhaps I can get to know a few people?"
She managed a small smile. He took it as a yes.
"And perhaps some of those people could be English and also female?" His face had already scrunched itself up, ready for a slap that never came. Instead she pretended to scowl at him.
"Don't push your luck..."
He moved closer, took her in his arms and held her for a few moments before his lips found her cheek and kissed their way down towards her mouth. He was afraid that she would push him away after the way he had spoken to her, but it was a shy and slow and nervous kiss. Both were worried about the damage they had inflicted on the other. But after a few moments Camille began to realise that her anger had been nothing more than empty emotion and was rapidly being replaced by relief and lust. Her hands roamed up his chest and around his neck trying to pull him closer to make sure that he wouldn't back off, but he pulled away, remembering that her mother was loitering around somewhere. He wanted her to know about them, but he certainly didn't want her to see them like this. She mourned the loss of his lips against hers, tried to pull him back. He was trying in vain to fight her off laughing, "Camille, your mother will see..."
She moved in closer and he caught the words "I don't care" before her lips met his again.