S2 E8 – Higher Education

Camille walks away in a huff to the next tree and keeps her back firmly turned away from him and his starchy ways and his snide behaviour. The nerve of the man! The Commissioner has very nicely invited us to this event and I SO looked forward to it! Free wine! Fancy food! Prawns! Yum! And HE is determined to spoil it!

She scuffs her foot into the ground with a grunt. Yes, trust him to ruin the best time I've had in weeks! What with the lull in the crime rate and this incessant heat and my fruitless wooing… don't I DESERVE a nice outing with normal people in a gorgeous big villa? She shoots a glance back over her shoulder. Yes! I do! Him and his monk's existence! How does he manage? She sees him standing stiffly by himself, prawns glaringly absent. She swings back. OH! That man! What do I see in him? Why do I put up with him? Why aren't I on the arm of any of these young men… or even any of these older men? Any ONE of them would be better company than HIM!

She settles into a bit of a day-dream, seeing herself living in a villa like this… well… maybe not THIS villa… it's HUGE... too big for me to handle. No, I'd settle for a much smaller place… not up here in the hills… down on a beach somewhere with soft breezes and washing waves... something nice to wake up and fall asleep to… and a man who is good and kind and easy to be with… not stroppy and snippy and all sharp corners and words that I barely understands sometimes. Definitely NOT an English man! No, no, no. English men are… are…

Her light inattention deepens as her mind dwells on exactly what an English man COULD be… when a hand falls on her arm and startles her back to reality. Oh, god! It's HIM! AND he looks upset! Oh, merde! Can't I escape him for even one MINUTE? She schools her face into politeness and snaps out, "What?!" a little more stridently then she intends.

His eyelids flutter briefly and his hand lifts off just a bit as if he is regretting bothering her but she sees him make up his mind to stay on course and say whatever is on his mind whether she wants to hear it or not. She softens her tone and tries again, "What? What is it? Didn't you like the prawns?"

He looks down at his empty plate and sets it down on a passing server's tray, "No, of course not, but Camille…" He stops, seeming to think over his words and trying to pick just the right ones so her little French brain can understand him. She seethes afresh but her seeth is interrupted by his odd manner. He is frowning and chewing his lower lip, hands twisting upon themselves like he is wrestling with something huge and doesn't know how to express it.

She leaps in with the first thing that comes to mind, "NO! You can't leave! We're here to press the flesh…" he winces "… drink this fine wine…" he winces again "… and eat as much of this expensive food as we can manage. I wish these shorts had bigger pockets!" He covers his eyes and groans. "What? You don't like these shorts?" she teases, unable to resist trying to catch his male attention once more.

His hand is still over his eyes and he mutters, "Those shorts… let's leave those shorts out of the conversation for the moment, shall we?"

She puts down her own plate and crosses her arms, "All right. The shorts are shelved. What's up?"

He raises both hands suddenly, his chin jutting out in frustration, "ME! I'M UP! I'm ALWAYS up! What is WRONG with me? I need a keeper, a minder, someone with a big net to throw over me whenever I'm out in public!" He covers his eyes again, quivering with some unknown emotion.

She touches him briefly on the shoulder and he flinches away. She drops her hand, "Ohhh-kayyy, what happened? What did you do? My back was only turned for a minute! Surely…"

He drops his hand and gives her a hot-eyed look, "Oh, I only went and totally insulted the host of this soireé, that's all! I called his wine 'vinegar' and his food 'dreadful'! If word gets back to the Commissioner, he will ship me back to England in a box!"

"With or without air holes?" she can't resist asking.

"I won't need 'em if I'm dead! Oh, Camille! What am I to do? How am I to manage? I'm not cut out for this sort of thing! I won't rise much higher in the ranks at THIS rate!" He slumps in defeat, "I'll be a DI for life if a miracle doesn't happen soon."

"OK, OK, relax! First of all, I'm sure our host didn't take your comments to heart! He's a business man and they have thick skins. Maybe he even thought you were joking? He'll remember you but not in a bad way, I bet! Especially if you circulate now and start working the crowd like you should."

"I should?"

"Well, of course! You're the Chief of Police, our first line of defense against the evils of the world! People would love to meet you, be reassured by you! The Commissioner will see you doing your PR duties and be very pleased."

"He will?"

"Yes. Who else can possibly replace him?" Richard stares, shakes his head. She nods back emphatically, "Yes, you! Naturally! It has to be you. You know the island. People respect you, even fear you…"

His head jerks back in surprise, "FEAR me? Why ever would anyone fear me?"

She puts a hand back on his shoulder and this time he accepts it, "You have to ask, my little Rottweiler? You attack and you never let go until you've shaken the crime to death. You read people's minds. You can see into their souls – or so the story goes. Anyone who tries to avoid you here today is probably a criminal and up to no good. I'll follow you at a discrete distance and take note of anyone you make nervous. Then we'll have a reliable list of probable suspects for future reference," she jokes.

He straightens up and a gleam of hope comes to his eye, "Yes, you're right. Capital idea! But you will NOT be at a discrete distance. You will be right by my side! You're the mind-reader soul-seer, not me. With your ability to read body language and your uncanny understanding of human nature, you will be my guide. I'll watch you and you will cue me on what to say and do."

She is privately pleased with his assessment but doesn't show it, "And how will I do that?"

"With that little thing you do with your eyebrow… and your eyes… and your mouth… and your body…"

"Yessss? What about my body?" Oh, this suddenly got interesting!

He gestures a bit helplessly at her, "Well, you know, how you stiffen up when you're pissed at me, and how you relax and smile when I've said or done just the right thing. All that. What we do every day in our work except we'll do it here in public." He is starting to relax, liking the idea.

She leans back, gives him a calculating look, "Oh, I see. And WHY would I want to do something in public that I never get to do in private, hmmm?" She waits to see if this dart shoots home or not.

It does, a bit, but not completely. He stills for a moment, looking slightly uneasy, "Well, we DO do it in private, when we're alone at the station or we're on a case and there's no one else around…"

She taps his chest with a stiff finger, "Mmm-hmm, that's NOT what I'm talking about and you KNOW it!"

He glances about anxiously, "Camille, please, I don't know anything of the sort. Besides, here comes the Commissioner. He will be a good test of our new strategy. It's very hard to insult the man so even if I stumble on our first attempt I won't get fired. Probably."

She whispers to Richard as they watch the uniform glide towards them, "OK, but we are GOING to continue this conversation VERY SOON. You need to be the Commissioner so I can be the D.I. Anything I can do to help bring that about is a GOOD thing!" At his startled look, she smiles, "Hey! A girl's got to have a plan." Giving him a quick once-over she thinks… and a dream!

His lips part in question but the Commissioner is suddenly in their midst and their first attempt at couple-hood goes off almost flawlessly. Richard watches her most carefully and takes his cues right on schedule, pressing his lips together and nodding instead of saying whatever god-awful thing he MIGHT have said if he'd been on his own. Only his eyes show the strain of refraining from blurting out whatever he is thinking. Camille has to hand it to him, he looks almost relaxed!

His mad scheme is working! she thinks in wonder. But he will need me more than ever now. And I have to make him see it! Just to hammer this point home, she sends him off with the big man to meet the rest of the Police Committee. She sees Richard gets the point too. She tells him most eloquently by eyebrow to 'play nice' and to watch the Commissioner for his next set of cues. The big man knows everything there is to know about working people to his advantage. Camille is a rookie compared to Selwyn Patterson. As Richard is dragged away, she knows his education has truly begun.

Who will question the advancement of Richard Poole with such a heavy-weight in his corner? No one, that's who! Who will dare get in the Commissioner's way with a proven war-hound at his back? Ditto! No one. And who will step into the vacancy left at the station? Why, I will! Who else? I'm no Lily Thomson to be overlooked! I'm Camille Bordey and I'm just the woman for the job.

As Richard passes behind her in the Commissioner's wake, she hears the faintest of sounds escape him. She doesn't see his lips so can't be sure but it sure SOUNDS like 'Ffffuuh…"

She laughs. Oh, yes, Richard Poole. You are on your way and I'm going to stick to you like glue! Try to scrape me off now! You finally admitted it. You finally realize it. I'm your key, your guide, your partner. Not just in public or on the job but for every aspect of your life. I'm just the woman for THAT job too! Oh, you bet.

"Oui," she breaths happily, watching his stiff back retreat towards a group of serious men who watch his approach with varying degrees of professional interest. Her sharp eyes pick out two men who move back a step or two. Hmm.

She gets out her notebook and starts her new job - to be the next DI when a certain happy event takes place.

END