Chapter 7: Tension

When Camille got up the next morning, she wondered into the kitchen she found Richard slipping on his jacket.

"We're out of milk," he said by way of explanation. "Can't have tea without milk. I'll be back in ten minutes."

"I think I'll have a shower," she thought she detected a slight pause in his movements towards leaving the flat, as if the thought of her in the shower had distracted him momentarily. She found that thought oddly satisfying. He gave her a wave as he went out the door and she headed back to her room, trying to look up the weather on her phone so she could decide what to wear.

It was actually only five minutes later when she heard the door open, and Edie barking excitedly. She hadn't made it to the shower, as she was trying to figure out what outfit intermittent showers justified.

"Richard are we going to be indoors most of the day?" She was still looking down at her phone when she entered the kitchen, and almost dropped her phone when she realised Richard was not the one who had entered the flat. Instead stood before her, fussing over Edie, was a handsome woman Richard's age.

Said woman politely came forward and offered a hand to Camille, "Sorry I hope I didn't scare you, I knocked but perhaps you didn't hear? I'm Clara Barlow, Edie's owner."

Camille managed to shake the other woman's hand, but couldn't quite get over the fact that she must have a key to Richard's place. A beautiful woman, Richard's age, had a key to his flat and trusted him to look after her dog. None of the explanations she was coming up with were pleasing to her, which probably why she hadn't actually said anything. She was also very aware that she was in the kitchen in a pair of old shorts and a strappy top she was wearing as pajamas.

The silence was clearly making Claire or whatever her name was uncomfortable because she asked, "You're Camille, right?"

Camille pulled herself together enough to manage a reply, "Uh, yes, I…worked, work, with Richard, in Saint Marie."

"Yes," She said very quickly. "Yes, he's spoken about you. He and I knew each other as teens, his mother re-introduced us recently. Perhaps he told you about me?"

"No," Camille said rather bluntly, and almost immediately felt guilty for her rudeness. Jealousy did not become her. Claire, no Clara, if she detected Camille's attempted dig chose to ignore it. Perhaps because she was secure in her relationship with Richard, perhaps because she was too polite to do otherwise, Camille didn't know.

"Well, Richard kindly agreed to look after Edie for a few days after I got put on a training course in Manchester at the last minute. I hope he behaved himself. I assume Richard's not here?"

"He went to buy milk, I'm sure he'll be back soon."

The second awkward silence was luckily broken after only a few moments by the sound of a key in the lock followed by Edie's inevitable excited bark. Richard walked in blathering on about how they only had full cream at the shop but came to an abrupt stop when he realised there were two women in his kitchen eyeing each other up cautiously.

"Clara!" His greeting was cheerful. "How was Manchester?"

You didn't need to be a detective to see how pleased Clara was to see him, Camille concluded. The smile she gave Richard was ten times more genuine than the one she had received. She acted like Camille wasn't even in the room anymore.

"Oh it rained the whole time I was there, you know what the north is like. I hope the weather was better here?"

"Overcast, but it didn't actually rain."

Camille apparently hadn't berated herself hard enough for being rude earlier, as she made a scoffing noise at their topic of conversation.

"Yes, we're English, we talk about the weather," Richard said pleasantly.

"I better go," Clara told Richard, and Camille felt a wave of relief. Rapidly followed by a wave of displeasure when Richard asked her, "You sure you don't want to stay for some breakfast?"

Clara shook her head, but Camille didn't miss the sideways glance she gave her and nor did Richard. She squeezed Richard's shoulder as she slid past him with Edie now on the leash.

As soon as the door shut behind Clara, Richard turned to Camille and raised his eyebrows at her. "What?" she asked defensively.

"I don't know, seemed a little tense between the two of you," He continued to level her with a look, not going to push the matter but not quite willing to let it go.

"Have you been together long?" She ventured, instead of explaining further.

Richard frowned, clearly thrown by the question, "Sorry?"

"I mean, she has a key and everything, it must be pretty serious," she prayed she was achieving the casual tone she was aiming for, but suspected she sounded moody.

"Oh!" Realisation dawned on Richard's face. "No, we aren't together or anything. I sort of help with Edie quite a lot. Clara got him as a puppy just before, well, her husband left and it's been hard for her to work and look after such an energetic dog. The key is just so she can drop him off and pick him up when I'm not here."

"Oh," she said. The answer was a relief, but she wasn't exactly satisfied by it. "It's just, she clearly really likes you."

"Oh, I know," Richard said, completely shocking her. "We did actually go out a couple of times but I told her I thought we should just be friends. I think she's hoping I'll come around but I was very firm, and I guess I'm being a bit selfish as I really appreciate having her around, as a friend."

"Oh," she said again, this time because she was lost for words.

"She's very nice you know, I think if you tried to get to know her you'd like her," Camille's eyes narrowed and Richard knew he'd said the wrong thing.

"What are you saying? That I don't want to get to know her? That I'm a rude person?" She had actually been a bit rude, but he was the last person who should point that out.

He took a deep breath but ventured on, "You did seem a little cold."

"I wasn't cold, I was, cautious. Maybe you should have warned me that she could turn up so early in the morning before I've even had my coffee."

Richard sighed aggressively but decided not to pursue the matter, "Look I don't want to fight…"

"We aren't fighting!"

"Well that's okay then," the sarcasm in the comment wasn't exactly hidden. However Camille had trouble staying angry at him as he passed her the coffee she had been bemoaning the absence of. "Where would you like to go today?"

"Um, somewhere indoors, I checked the weather and looks like I'll need the warmest clothes I own. I, um, never did get in the shower I'll be back later." She turned to leave, but then turned back. "And thanks for the coffee."

He watched her walk away, and wondered if his therapist was right about something – maybe he shouldn't have been making assumptions about people's feelings after all.