Chapter 5 – A Fresh Start

"But sir…" Richard tried again. However, it was in vain. Superintendent Jack Morris had spoken, and he wouldn't listen to any more objections and arguments. He lifted his hand and said "Now, look, Poole – you've complained that you don't have anybody to help you, and when I find someone to help you, you complain that you will have to deal with someone who's new and unfamiliar with the station and will need some guidance. Can't you just see the positive side of it? This intern is eager to do real work, and she will be happy to be useful. You surely will manage to explain yourself so things will be done exactly as you want them… I know you're not keen on working with interns, but Superintendent Tyler said this sergeant is very competent, and she would have loved to keep her at Barnet, but due to her DI getting sick and the other one already having too much on his plate, that's impossible. And I don't think I have to remind you that it won't look good if you fail to cooperate efficiently with yet another intern… Last year's intern was obviously quite a disaster, but it takes two to get into a conflict like that, and you know that your – er – somewhat – er – demanding attitude didn't help there…"

Richard sighed. He knew that Morris had a point there, although he didn't like being reminded of it. His social skills had never been remarkably good, and with his behaviour towards last year's intern, he had certainly proved that once again. He had truly not delivered a masterpiece there… And part of being a DCI was also leading a team and getting on with people. He had become better – his experiences on Saint Marie had helped him – but he still had difficulties. He knew that he was too much of a loner, and people didn't understand why he wanted them to be so accurate, so precise… and he couldn't make them see why it was so important. He really needed to work on that… But another intern? Heaven help him…

So, he decided to put a good face on the matter and said "Okay, sir. I'll do my best. So, when will he arrive?"

Morris – who had already turned his attention to his tea again – looked up and said "Oh, it's 'she', Poole. I said so, didn't I? I'm sure I did. Well, she'll show up tomorrow morning, between 8.30 and 9 a.m., that's what Superintendent Tyler said. She'll be particularly assigned to you, and you'll be responsible for her training. Please try to be positive about it – I'm sure all will be fine."

With that, he gave his DCI to understand that his time was up, and Richard got up and left, closing the door with a soft click. Jack Morris took up his cup and smiled, revelling in the scent of the freshly brewed hot tea. Everything would work out, he was sure about that. Poole was warned now that if he didn't make efforts to get on with the intern, this would have consequences and find its way into his file, and he would try to avoid this at all cost. Of course, he was upset now, but he'd calm down again, and in the end, all would pan out well.

Richard wasn't only upset, he was literally fuming. On the way into his office, he had been able to restrain his feelings by clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, but when he closed the door behind him, he was nearly screaming with frustration. Since he couldn't possibly scream, he gave the bin in his office a decidedly violent kick – just to jump forward and keep it from falling over the next second. With a frustrated sigh, he sat down and stared at the calendar on the wall… It featured a photo of Durham cathedral, but he had no eyes for the beautiful architecture displayed on the picture.

They already had two interns at the station, and he couldn't see that they were doing anything useful so far. Granted, only one was in his department – and yes, he seemed fairly capable, although… just how capable he really was remained to be seen. You couldn't say much after a few days. He hadn't seen much of the other one as he was in another section but honestly, why would the station need a third one? He needed someone competent. Someone reliable. He was already juggling too many different things – he didn't want to look after an intern and play babysitter. Yes, sure, they all were sergeants, so they should know what they were doing, but he had heard the ominous remark "at my old station, we do it differently" all too often. People just weren't flexible.

And how nasty of Morris to remind him of the clashes he had had with that other intern and threaten him to put it down in his file if it happened again. It hadn't been his fault that last year's intern had been such an idiot. Yes, admittedly, he hadn't been particularly patient with him, but still… oh well. Maybe it had been partly his fault – he hadn't controlled his temper. He'd have to make more of an effort this time…

He buried his head in his hands for a moment when he remembered another detail that Morris had mentioned – the new intern was female… He knew that would mean trouble…

Could it get any worse?

Camille checked her reflection once more in the tube's windows. She wore a black-and-white coat in a hound's tooth check, together with black trousers and sensible black shoes. A scarf was wrapped around her neck, and she wore fingerless mittens along with a Basque beret – all her accessories were bright red. Underneath she wore a black turtleneck pullover, and a bright red brooch, shaped like a rose, was fixed to the the roll collar.

She hoped it wouldn't be considered too overdressed or extravagant. However, she just couldn't stand the dark trouser suits and white blouses she had seen so often – as a Detective you didn't have to wear a uniform, yet the dark suits and ties that the men wore and the dark trouser suits and white blouses that the women wore looked exactly like that - uniforms.

Camille admitted to herself that she was a little nervous, although Superintendent Tyler had reassured her that she would be fine in Islington.

She had said "Jack Morris is a very, very friendly man, Sergeant Bordey, and I have never heard anything negative about him from others. I'm sure you'll fit in nicely. You would have fit in nicely here, too – it's just unfortunate that DI Henderson – er… you know… But don't worry, Islington is a really good place, and I know that they have other interns, so that might be better for you, anyway…"

Well, she had a point there, but still… Camille knew that she wouldn't get a third chance. She'd have to get on well in this station, or her reputation would be ruined forever. She knew only too well how quickly gossip could spread, and she didn't want to give it any additional fodder. It was bad enough that she'd be known as the intern who made DI Henderson have a nervous breakdown – she couldn't afford another disaster like that.

At least, it was easier to get to Islington, particularly after her move to Stanmore it would be a lot more convenient than having to travel to Barnet. The tube connection was much better, so that was a bonus. She was glad about that – she hadn't been too excited at the prospect of spending nearly three hours on public transport every day.

As she got off the tube and stepped out on the street, she tried to orientate… There was a Boots ahead of her, and Superintendent Tyler had also mentioned there was at least one supermarket not too far from the station, so that was good to know… she might have to do her grocery shopping around here every once in a while. There were plenty of places to grab food, but she had prepared a salad for lunch and taken along a container with dressing as well in her satchel. If an option for going out to lunch came up, she could always eat it for dinner at home, but she had wanted to be prepared.

She squared her shoulders and marched off in direction of the station, relying on what she had figured out on the map – she had her phone ready, too, where she had installed a mapping app, but she didn't really want to rely too much on it at this point. It would be better to train her sense of orientation…

At the entrance of the station, she presented her intern ID, and the lady in the glass cubicle checked her list and nodded. Her satchel was run through security check, then the officer phoned Superintendent Morris and informed him that his new intern was there, gave Camille directions on how to find her new working place and sat down again to continue doing her crossword puzzle. For a moment, she was reminded of Richard – she hadn't forgotten his obsession for crossword and sudoku puzzles. Instantly, she shoved the memory away. She did not want to think of him – this was all part of the past…

As she entered the department, she noticed that she was checked out by several people – not too openly, but still… A young woman in uniform approached her and asked "Can I help you?" Camille had just replied that she was supposed to meet Superintendent Morris when a door opened and a tall, lanky man stepped into the corridor. He didn't have much hair, but an impressive grey moustache adorned his face – its ends were hanging down a little which gave him a bit of a sad air. His skin was slightly yellowish, and he showed an ailing expression on his face.

His voice, though, was surprisingly firm and sonorous. He had overheard her response and now said "Ah – Sergeant Bordey! There you are! Thank you, Collins – I'll take care of this…" – and with that, he came up to Camille, extended his hand to her and said "I'm Superintendent Jack Morris – and – er – oh, come in, come in…" – he gestured in direction of the open door, and Camille followed his invitation, not without flashing him a charming smile that didn't fail to take an effect on her new supervisor.

Constable Collins didn't have a chance to eavesdrop, so she returned to her desk, a little disappointed. She would have loved to be a fly on the wall during the forthcoming conversation. Everybody in the department knew that DCI Poole would be in charge of the new intern, and it was no secret that he wasn't too excited about the whole thing. He had walked around with a gloomy face all afternoon yesterday.

Personally, Constable Collins didn't mind DCI Poole at all – he was perhaps a little eccentric, but last year, he had been very kind to her when he had learnt that her dog had died, and that had helped her a lot. She had sat at her desk, trying to stifle the tears, and nobody had talked to her. She had been rather new at the station, and she hadn't made any friends yet. DCI Poole had passed her desk on the way out for his lunch break – he often went a little later than the others - and noticed how she had been sniffling and dabbing her eyes. He had stopped and asked if anything was the matter, and she had blurted out that Mikey had died the night before – and of course, the tears had come again. He had shifted from one foot to the other, obviously uncomfortable, but then he had said softly "I'm sorry to hear this, Collins. It's hard to lose a friend, I know. But he lives on in your memory, the sadness will slowly move to the background, and one day you'll wake up and only remember the good times – with – er - gratitude that he's been a part of your life."

She had never forgotten this. It had been the most personal thing she had ever heard from him – and while he had appeared unapproachable until then, this small incident had made him incredibly human, and of all the things people had said to her, this had been the most comforting approach. He had never said anything personal to her again or made efforts to chat with her – it was like nothing had ever happened. But it had changed the way she looked at him. She had always thought he was cold and indifferent – his remark had shown her that neither was the case. It had been a fabulous lesson of 'never judge a book by the cover' – she had realised that he was reserved and private, and his people skills were maybe not particularly well developed, but to her, he had been kind…

As it was, he could be somewhat impatient with people, and he could get rather unpleasant when he was not satisfied with his team's achievements or in general when something wasn't going the way he had wanted it to go. Collins had heard from quite a few people how hard he was to please, how difficult he was and how fastidious he could be. He seemed to be particularly impatient and difficult with women – although she herself had never been exposed to his idiosyncrasies.

Well, maybe this all was due to lack of practice. Everyone knew that he was single, and nobody had ever seen him with a woman.

She felt a little sorry for the new intern, but maybe she was as smart as she looked and would manage to satisfy his demands.

Camille had to suppress a smile as she sat opposite Superintendent Morris – he was clearly going out of his way to be charming and obliging – but really, what a sad sight he was with this moustache! However, she really couldn't complain about his manners. He had offered her tea at least twice, and there had been a lot of benevolent chit-chat regarding her professional career so far – he had obviously hardly looked at her CV before now although Superintendent Tyler had e-mailed him a copy already on Monday.

"Well – er – Sergeant Bordey… the thing is, we are short of a DI at the moment – poor Harrison has broken his leg last week – very disobliging, but what can you do! – and since your stay here is – er – more or less – er – unscheduled, we're not really prepared, but I hope that won't put you off. Our excellent DCI has – er - agreed to take care of you – there are a few projects where you'll support him, and you will certainly also help with the incoming cases, see witnesses for interrogations, and – er… well, just be a part of the team, I think…. Since you have served for a couple of years already, you might be able to do things independently – as I understand from your CV, you have already managed a police station on your own for a month or so and also stepped in when your – er – supervisor was on holidays, so that will be helpful. Also, I see that your background – I mean, coming from overseas and having been part of the French and the British system - might make you look at things differently – which is a good thing… mostly. It's helpful when someone can think outside the box. Of course, we have to follow certain procedures here, but – er… well, I'm confident that you'll fit in nicely…"

Although she got the impression that this was all a little random, and there was no real plan, she smiled sweetly and said "I'll do my very best, Superintendent Morris. I'm here to learn, you know…" She could only hope that this mysterious DCI wasn't a fusspot, a choleric type or a paranoiac. Or worse – all of that packed into one. Usually, she adapted quickly to people and their work rhythms, but the clashes with Henderson had showed her that there were lots of potential pitfalls she hadn't considered when she had started this course. She wanted to learn – but preferably without having to walk on eggshells all the time.

She exchanged a few more niceties with Superintendent Morris, then he picked up the handset of his phone and said "If you don't have any further questions, I suppose I'd better introduce you to your supervisor…"

He dialled a number and said "Ah – er – yes, she's here now, so if you don't mind – yes, thanks."

Half a minute later, there was a knock on the door. Camille – who was sitting to the door with her back – suppressed the urge to turn around – she knew it would be perceived as curious or brash if she did so, so she waited until Morris got up and said jovially "Ah, there you are… "

He made a prompting gesture towards Camille, so she got up and turned around – and nearly fainted as she looked into green eyes… those eyes that she had never forgotten, eyes that had come to haunt her so many times over the past years, eyes that were now looking at her - clearly in shock and panic, reflecting her own feelings.

She heard Superintendent Morris say from far away "Let me introduce your new supervisor, DCI Poole… you'll work with him and report to him directly… Poole, this is your new intern, Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey. I trust you'll take good care of her…"

Automatically, Camille extended her hand; she felt how the man in front of her took it and shook it lightly - murmuring a hardly audible 'Good to see you, Sergeant Bordey' - and then let go again as if he had been burnt. It was clear that he was totally aghast, and she instantly understood that he hadn't had a clue about her being the new intern. Camille managed a nod and a dazed 'Enchantée…' She didn't even notice that she had switched to French.

Superintendent Morris watched the scene with some surprise – this was not what he had expected. Normally, women didn't react that dramatically to DCI Poole.

Poole was not really what you'd consider a stunner, although he didn't have to hide under a rock, either. He was a fairly average middle-aged man, with a medium build and slightly thinning hair – so there was nothing spectacular about him. But perhaps Sergeant Bordey just wanted to be careful and behave appropriately. He knew from Angela Tyler that she wasn't the kind of person who'd let anyone get the better of her – she could clearly stand up for herself – however, after the experiences with DI Henderson, she was perhaps more cautious now and tried to make a good first impression.

He was interested to see that Poole looked completely flabbergasted, but he couldn't quite figure out why… Everyone would have been completely smitten with Bordey, of course, but although Poole wasn't the type who'd show his rapture too openly – let alone come up with a charm offensive to impress his counterpart - he was clearly thunderstruck now. And it was more than just being impressed with Bordey – there was a hint of incredulousness and despair in his eyes.

This was very interesting, and he was curious to find out what was behind all this.

But he was quickly enlightened - Poole said "Thank you very much, sir… but I can't be… I can't work with Sergeant Bordey. She was my sergeant when I served in the Caribbean, and we… I cannot be her supervisor here. I'm – er - biased."

Camille turned around and said "That's right, sir… we worked together for more than two years on Saint Marie…"

If either of them had hoped that Superintendent Morris would decide now that they shouldn't be working together again because Poole wasn't unbiased and would be partial in his assessment, they had been mistaken – he was much too relieved to have his staff problems solved to think about possible complications now.

Much to Richard's and Camille's surprise, he smiled broadly and said cheerfullly "Oh, that's brilliant! So there won't be any warming up phase, and you know you'll get on with one another. Splendid. What a relief! I'm glad to hear that – it will make everything so much easier. Well, I suppose you're eager to exchange all sorts of news and chat about the past now, so I'd suggest you'll take Sergeant Bordey to your office and – er – show her around once you're done chatting! Excellent, excellent… My, what a great coincidence! You'll have to tell me more about that some time, but not now…"

With that, he opened the door and shooed them out – politely, but determinedly. These two obviously were completely surprised with their sudden encounter, and he didn't want to interfere with them getting re-acquainted. This was an interesting situation! But he had been honest – he was relieved that they already knew each other. They had worked together for long enough to be familiar with their respective strengths and weaknesses, and that should make their cooperation here a lot easier. And if there were issues – well, he'd just turn a deaf ear towards their potential complaints.

Not that he actually expected them to complain – they both had too much to lose, and they both knew it.

Completely dumbfounded, Camille followed Richard down the corridor to his office.

Once inside, she remained standing and watched him close the door firmly and carefully. Then he turned around to her, an unfathomable look in his eyes. A slightly crooked smile appeared on his lips as he said "So there you are. Welcome to Islington, Camille…"

His voice sounded thick and strangely broken – it mirrored Camille's feelings… she felt totally gobsmacked, too.

Her mouth was dry and her brain was empty, but she forced herself to speak. "Yes, here I am."

She knew her voice sounded brittle. So they had finally met again – she couldn't believe it. For well over two years, she had wondered on and off what it would be like if she ever got to see him again – and now that the moment had come, she felt completely empty, and none of the scenarios she had played out in her head fit into what was happening now.

Of course, she had known that there was a small chance that police work would bring them together again, and she had half-decided already to make an effort to find him once her course here was over – but this… this wasn't what she had imagined. She had not imagined to be his intern, his subordinate, his trainee…

In her imagination, she had always been either close to finishing her course or a senior officer already, on the same level, even with him – or at least almost there…

She mustered him. He was the same – but no… he wasn't. He looked different… He was slimmer than he had been on Saint Marie, in better shape, obviously. His hair was longer – he didn't have it plastered on his forehead any more, it was neatly combed back – maybe in order to cover up a balding patch? With the light shining right onto it, there was a hint of auburn in it that she had never noticed before. Maybe it hadn't been so obvious back then because his hair had been shorter? And she definitely knew that the few silvery hairs that she could spot hadn't been there when she had seen him last… The lines on his forehead were deeper, the features of his face clearer, more distinctive. He looked like a slightly familiar stranger, like somebody she had used to know, like another version of the Richard Poole who had left Saint Marie back then...

But his eyes… his eyes were the same. His voice was the same. And so was the lopsided half smile that she had always found so charming and that he was now giving her again… after all this time, she finally saw it again, lighting up his face.

She felt her heart skipping a beat and her stomach trying to perform a somersault - and she swallowed hard.

In a flash she realised that nothing had changed.

She was still attracted to him. It was all coming back to her – the longing, the desire, the love… all the feelings that she had thought might perhaps be dead by now, stifled by the rage, the pain and the despair… buried somewhere deep in her heart… but no, they had survived, and they were still going strong…

She didn't know what to say, what to do… and obviously he didn't, either. He just looked at her. She wondered what he saw… how he felt about her… if he had missed her…

Eventually he cleared his throat and said "You look stunning. What… has brought you here?"

Then, when she didn't answer, he suddenly seemed to realise that they were still standing there in the middle of his office, like wooden blocks in a still life, and he moved towards his desk, gestured to the visitor chair and said "Sorry. This is just so…. I don't know... unexpected, I suppose. But then again, you've always had a habit of surprising me, so I guess it's kind of… customary for our encounters to be – er – somewhat – um - unreckonable… Please sit down. Would you like something to drink? I mean, I could get you some coffee, or tea, or…"

He was desperately trying to wake up. This was a dream, wasn't it? Some weird, bizarre, strange dream…