Chapter 12: 28 weeks
A/N: Sorry, I seemed to have slowed down on the old writing front!
Camille woke in the middle of the night to find Richard, wide awake, his head balanced on her stomach as if he was trying to listen to the twins. "What are you doing?" She whispered, uncertain why since they were both awake and nobody else was in the house.
"I think one of them has the hiccups," he responded.
Camille, now she was more awake, became aware of a series of rhythmic vibrations that didn't feel like the normal movements of the babies. She frowned, "Is that normal?"
"Yes, perfectly normal," Richard said. His tone wasn't exactly reassuring though, more flat and distracted. Camille got the feeling he had some serious worries on his mind.
"Richard," she said gently. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," he said – that automatic English response that had driven her mad on many an occasion. "Everything's fine."
"Then why are you awake in the middle of the night with your head pressed to my belly?" She asked - there was no way Richard could have heard the hiccups sleeping next to her, he probably only noticed them because of his proximity now. He remained silent – Camille wasn't sure if it was unwillingness to answer or if he was just gathering his thoughts. "Richard," she prodded gently.
"He didn't mean to," Richard said suddenly. "My father."
"He didn't mean to what?" Camille asked, wondering if some great Poole family secret was about to be revealed. She hoped her Father-in-law wasn't a murderer, it could be awkward at their next meeting. Or perhaps he used to smuggle stuff in is diplomatic bag when he worked for the Foreign office. Or perhaps she was letting her imagination run away with her.
"And really, you should have met my Grandfather," Richard continued, not enlightening her in the slightest about his earlier statement. Camille, in a fit of paranoia probably induced by pregnancy hormones and her sleep being interrupted, had a sudden intense fear that Richard was about to confess that fits of insanity ran along the male line in his family. She was sure she'd read somewhere about rare genetic disorders running in royal families somewhere... "I only did half a dozen times, he died in a car accident when I was still quite young, but he left a hell of an impression. My Uncle Peter had it the worst though, very much so."
Camille was too afraid to ask any clarifying questions. It was so difficult to get Richard to talk about things that bothered him emotionally, and now he was, even though it didn't entirely make sense. It was best just to let him keep talking and hope all would become clear. "In what way did he have it worse?" She decided to try asking, since he had gone rather quiet again.
"My grandfather made it very clear he was disappointed that he had not married. And that every year that went by he was failing his family, he felt Uncle Peter should have just married any old woman just to produce an heir. Which was never going to happen, Uncle Peter didn't like women. Or at least that is the impression I have picked up over the years from family whispers."
"He was gay?" Camille asked directly.
"Yeah, he was, though nobody ever said those things out loud back then. I think Grandfather knew deep down and it didn't exactly ingratiate him towards Uncle Peter. So you can see, my Father was far better than his."
"Well of course," Camille agreed immediately, though mentally she was thinking there were a fair few things he could have done differently when Richard was a child. Little did she know that Richard was thinking along the same lines.
"So I know he did better, loads better, than his Dad. And I know he didn't mean to be, you know, distant and stuff – but he was." Camille remained quiet, having guessed where this might be going. Honestly, she had expected this panic a lot earlier on. She thought back on the day, wondering if anything in particular might have triggered it, but drew a blank. No doubt all these worries had been swirling around in his mind for ages, and now it had come to ahead. "What if I think I'm doing well, because I remember to tell them I love them occasionally, and I don't act disappointed if they get a B in French. But they think I'm still a rubbish Father, because I can't be the complete 'modern man'. I'm just…it isn't me."
Richard's head was still on her massive bump, the baby had quietened down now – hiccups suppressed as if he or she knew the seriousness of the moment. Richard, even now, was very rarely this vulnerable with her. He still had a tendency to glance around to make sure nobody was looking too closely before kissing her in public – even though such kisses usually consisted of not much more than a peck on the lips. "Richard," she said now. "You don't have to worry about that."
He sat up now, and to her surprise he seemed almost annoyed at her for her attempts at reassurance. Frowning, he said, "You don't have to humour me, Camille. I know you are only saying that to try and make me feel better."
"When do I ever lie to you to make you feel better?" She countered.
He thought about it for a moment, "You told me those biscuits I made for you were nice."
"Well, they were nice."
He gave her a look, "Camille, I forgot to put sugar in them!"
"Oh they tasted disgusting, I meant it was nice of you to make them for me." She continued to be in receipt of the aforementioned look. "Oh come on Richard, that was different, it was only are third date and I didn't want to hurt your feelings."
"Just like you don't want to hurt my feelings now," he pointed out, and probably would have been rather smug if there wasn't such an air of anxiety about him.
"Look, you should have asked me why you don't have to worry about it," Camille told him.
"Fine," he conceded. "Why shouldn't I be worried?"
"Because I'm not going to let you get away with it." Apparently that was not explanation enough, as he just looked at her blankly. "Richard, how many times have I dropped a hint to you about encouraging Fidel or dealing with a suspect?"
"A lot." No hesitation.
"So do you honestly think it would be different for our children?" She continued. "If I think you are being too distant, or not supportive enough, I will be telling you and you will modify your behaviour accordingly."
"Oh," Richard said. "I suppose you would."
"Suppose?"
"Ok," he said, a small smile forming on his face as he began to relax. "I know you will." She smiled back at him. "We'll be ok, won't we?"
"Of course we will," she told him. "Now can we go back to sleep? I need my rest, I am carrying your children you know!"
"Of course," he said, settling back down.
"Oh one more thing," she said. "Actually two more things. There is no way either of these babies is ever getting a B in French, and we'll deal with the fact you apparently learnt French in school later." Camille did think that last statement might cause Richard a little more sleeplessness.
A/N: The next chapter is rather long!
