Chapter 9 – New Perspectives
But the weather didn't remain stable. Richard sighed as he looked out of the window on Saturday morning. Rain again! Really, it wasn't worth getting showered and having breakfast – he'd just jump into his swimming gear, slip into his weekend clothes and drag himself to the pool.
He was a little late already when he left the house, so he missed the bus by five minutes. Realising that the next one wouldn't come until half an hour later, he set off to walk to the pool – by the time the next bus came, he'd be there – or at least almost! - if he walked briskly, so it was pointless to wait. He was wearing a waterproof hooded anorak, so he was suitably dressed.
He was deep in thought during his walk… He hadn't had much of a chance to think about Camille's invitation on Friday as he had been rather busy at work, and in the evening, he had watched a favourite show on TV, so he had been distracted. But now, he had the opportunity to ponder the situation, and he was aware of how her invitation was throwing him into some sort of inner turmoil. He wasn't quite sure if he was rather looking forward to the evening – or if he was actually afraid of it.
He knew that Camille didn't invite random people to her home. She might seem coquettish, but she was also very cautious, and from what he knew – he had kept his eyes and ears open – she hadn't gone out with anyone in a while… or at least so it seemed to him. Not that he was terribly good at reading other people's emotions, but to him, it didn't look like she was involved with anyone. He figured he knew her well enough to rely on her not fooling him on purpose when she had said that she cared about him. Of course, that could mean anything, but then again, she'd cook dinner – to him that sounded fairly domestic and almost intimate, something you did when a special person came to visit – and Camille surely wouldn't have phrased it that way if she hadn't meant it. If she had wanted something non-committal, she would have invited other people, too, and it would perhaps have been a potluck and not a home-made three course menu…
He might be inept in many ways, but he was no fool, and her way of proceeding indicated that she had a plan. Of course, there was a chance that he was mistaken and set his hopes too high, but he liked to think that she, too, hadn't forgotten those magic moments in his shack… and he wanted to believe that she still cared about him in that particular way – although he couldn't be sure, could he… He hadn't got any younger, and he had never been a dashing fellow… not to mention that he wasn't adventurous or keen on trying new things… Why would Camille want to spend time with him, why would she be attracted to him? He just couldn't find a plausible answer to these questions – but that didn't keep him from hoping that she might see his good sides and consider them being qualities that she actually appreciated, wanted and needed in a potential partner…
Apprehensively he realised that he had never visited a woman in her home – at least not like this. It seemed hard to believe, but he really had reached his mid-forties without ever getting into this situation. He had spent time with a group of people during his uni time, but they had mostly met up at pubs or at someone's house – however, that had been different since he had never been the only guest. He had never had a female friend who had wanted him to come round for dinner, let alone a real girl friend. Nobody had ever been to his house to stay the night. And he had never had anything that had resembled a romantic date, either. He had always been on his own…
Admittedly, he had had very few flings – less than a handful… two or three, to be more precise - in his early years on the job when he had woken up in women's flats without really being sure about how he had ended up there – and he had felt very ashamed and almost shell-shocked in those situations.
Obviously, these flings hadn't had anything to do with deeper emotions for the respective women (and vice versa!) – they had been induced mostly by loneliness, accompanied by sudden feelings of lust and too much alcohol. He was certainly not proud of any of these affairs. And although they had given him – and apparently the women, too - physical satisfaction and relief for a moment, he had hated and despised himself… he had never wanted it this way. He had felt used – and he had felt that he had used the women, too. It hadn't mattered that they had been the ones instigating these situations. Needless to say, there had never been a 'relationship' afterwards – actually he had sneaked out of the women's flats and avoided any further contact afterwards (not too difficult since they had just been 'chance acquaintances', anyway), and none of them had sought him out and confronted him, so he had concluded they hadn't been interested, either.
And he had remained lonely.
Deep inside, he was romantic, and he believed in love, despite his general skepticism regarding the human nature… the fact that he had had only loveless affairs with women whom he had just known briefly and superficially was depressing, and it had undermined his self-esteem.
He still hadn't figured out after all these years why he hadn't been able to resist when he had come into these situations, but since there hadn't been too many of them, he had filed them under experiences and tried to move on… If nothing else, they had at least given him a deeper understanding for the unfathomable weaknesses that could lurk in people's character and that could come to the surface when faced with temptation – and they had made him realise that he, too, was fallible… an insight he hadn't been too happy with, but that had made him a little more humble. He wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing or not, and it didn't really make much of a difference, did it – it was an unalterable part of his life, and he had to accept it as such.
But whatever - obviously, these experiences had been made under entirely different circumstances, and these hangover mornings hadn't been preceded by dinner in the respective women's flats!
Well, he wouldn't get drunk at Camille's place, that much was sure… And his feelings for Camille were definitely going much, much deeper than anything he had experienced ever before….
With some chagrin, he wondered if Camille had a clue about what she was doing to him by inviting him for dinner. She was throwing him into some horrible fix here – on one hand, he wanted to rekindle their 'friendship', spend time with her and get closer to her, if possible. She was unbelievably important to him, he enjoyed being together with her, her company was inspiring, and yes, he also was immensely attracted to her - and she was the only woman who had ever cared enough about him to give him some kind of second chance although he had behaved like a complete idiot in her presence – repeatedly! Given the fact that she didn't suffer fools gladly, that had to mean something…
On the other hand, he was indeed quite scared of what might come out of it. He wasn't only rather inexperienced when it came to the physical side of 'it all', but also in regard to the interpersonal part. He hadn't been in love in a long, long time (and the one and only time had been a major disappointment in the end, anyway), and he had become so set in his ways and used to being by himself – could he actually un-learn his solitary, eccentric, self-involved way of looking at the world? He knew only too well that many people thought he was self-absorbed and anti-social – the truth was that he just had no clue how to behave otherwise. He wasn't entirely sure if this had always been his personality or if it was an acquired behaviour pattern that he had internalised… Or maybe it was a mix of both? Whatever it was, he couldn't act against it – it was part of who he was, and he had to accept this – and that applied to everyone else around him, too. Camille surely knew that… and still she had invited him…
He was willing to make sincere efforts for Camille, and he hoped she'd give him a chance and be patient with him. He didn't want to rush things. He wanted them to get accustomed to one another, he wanted to give their relationship time to grow, and he wanted to feel safe and comfortable with her before making that crucial step of literally coming out of his hiding place, shedding his armour and 'exposing' himself in front of her – in every sense of the word. He knew she wouldn't hurt him intentionally, but it could happen due to misunderstandings… he wanted to be sure she'd understand how he was wired… Quite an ambitious undertaking, considering that he sometimes didn't understand it himself…
He realised that his stance had changed with time. When he had left Saint Marie, he had been convinced that it was better to go, that they didn't have enough in common, that he had nothing to offer, anyway, and that she would run away from him in any case, so why try? But now, he was at least one step further – if not more than that… His desire to have her in his life was stronger than his desire for 'peace of mind'. Now, he wanted to try…
Still, there were her expectations…
His lack of experience – that would become evident at some point - would hardly help to blow her away… But then again, if they gave themselves time… maybe that wouldn't matter so much? Well, they would have to give themselves time – they had no other choice at this point: He knew that nothing physical could happen between them as long as they both worked in the same station, no matter how much he'd want to be with her.
And he hoped that she, too, knew they couldn't cross that bridge. At least not at this point - yet.
He felt his face getting warm as he remembered their recent conversation when she had brought her suitcase to the station on her moving day. That exchange had been more risqué than their usual banter – the only other time he had ever made insinuations of a similar kind had been back on Saint Marie when he had claimed to have a date with a book during the period of the Erzulie festival because he had wanted to avoid the general hubbub in town… Camille had asked him the next morning when she had picked him up how his 'date' had gone, and he had replied that he had been 'at it all night and then again before breakfast'.
She had smiled, and her response had sent shivers down his spine – with a low, almost slinky voice she had drawled 'impressive…'
She had deliberately exaggerated her French accent – and it had sounded very sultry.
He had pretended to feel smug and unruffled, but the truth was that he had felt his heart skipping a beat and his ears burning as she had said this… This time, it had been her who had appeared surprised and a little confused while he had apparently had the upper hand… And admittedly, he still felt a little smug about that.
No, having dinner at her house surely wouldn't be a problem – the problem would be… how would they go about from there?
Camille had finished doing her regular amount of laps in the pool and reluctantly got out of the water. This was a really nice pool, and the weather outside didn't look too appealing – she'd have to walk almost ten minutes to the bus stop from here, and it wouldn't be so much fun with the strong wind and the rain outside. Oh well, she'd just extend the showering a little – maybe the weather would calm down, and it wouldn't be so bad any more by the time she left the building. Autumn in the UK wasn't so much fun. But then again, autumn in France hadn't always been great, either…
After she had got dressed, she took her backpack and went outside into the wide hallway with electric outlets and mirrors. She plugged in her blow dryer, bent over and began to dry her hair. As it got busier, more people passed, and several times people almost barged into her – and the others who were drying their hair in the corridor - because they didn't pay attention. There were no apologies or anything –people just walked on. Suddenly, she felt someone push her so hard from behind that she almost fell over. Again, that person walked on - she could just about catch her fall when she felt someone grabbing her arm and helping her up again. She turned around to thank the person – and looked right into a familiar face…
"Richard!" she exclaimed, slightly embarrassed because her hair was all over the place, her face was basically naked as she hadn't put on any make-up, and she was wearing an old dark green sweatshirt she had bought in France many, many years ago, along with a pair of faded, washed-out jeans… She surely wasn't looking her best. She switched off her blowdryer that kept racketing about and opened her mouth.
But before she could say anything, her backpack fell over and most of its contents got spilled out, and an instant later, they both found themselves scrambling on the floor, trying to gather all the items that had fallen out. Richard handed her the bag with her shampoo and shower gel and then picked up a towel and another wet item… a bright red swimsuit.
"Here… I think that's all," he said, his voice slightly strained. She tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and asked inanely "What… what are you doing here?"
He was just as gobsmacked as her – a few moments ago, when he had entered the building, he had wondered what she might be doing this weekend, and dang – there she was!
"I'm here to go swimming… obviously…" he replied, well aware of how stupid this sounded. He still was holding her wet swimsuit – all of a sudden, he seemed to remember and held it out to her, saying "I think that's your swimsuit, isn't it?" She took it, absent-mindedly, still looking in his face, surprise and bafflement in her eyes.
"Hey, you two down there… are you ever going to get up again, or are you going to hibernate on the floor?" someone bellowed at them. Swiftly, they both jumped to their feet, and the voice said sarcastically "Thanks, folks…"
However, they didn't notice.
"Yes," she confirmed, "it's mine – thank you…" They both came to their senses again when she stuffed the swimsuit into the small plastic bag it had fallen out of.
"Do you come here often?" he asked, still not quite believing what he had just realised… the mysterious woman in the red swimsuit that he had admired from the distance a couple of times already had indeed been Camille!
She shook her head and said "Not nearly often enough… I've been here a couple of times on weekends, maybe five or six times. It's a good way to keep fit, and it's not as expensive as a gym or so… And you? I didn't know that you swim… You never went swimming on Saint Marie…"
He pulled a face and explained a little awkwardly "Oh, you know, I couldn't - because of the sand and the strong sun. I mean… I burn easily, and you know how I feel about sand…"
She smiled and rolled her eyes – oh yes, she remembered his sand phobia only too well!
He added "I come here every once in a while, mostly on Saturdays… Usually, I try to go for runs on weekends, but with the weather being like this" – he gestured to the rain slashing on the windows – "I've been swimming again more often… I think I might have seen you a couple of times – from the distance… I thought… I thought I had been mistaken… but obviously not…"
She smiled now and said "I had no idea… What a coincidence this is… Someone in my course recommended this pool because it's clean and not overly expensive, and so I checked it out. It's not too far from where I live now, so it seemed like a good idea to go here regularly. And you – I mean, do you live far from here?"
He replied "Not really. Normally, I come here by bus, but I missed it this morning, so I walked – and I'm late, obviously. I usually try to be here earlier than this because it gets crowded later on."
She nodded and said "I see. Well, I don't want to keep you – but maybe we can go together some time? I'm not super-chatty when I go swimming – I just do my laps and that's it, but…"
"Oh, I know," he said, "and sometimes you jump off the five metres diving tower… although I didn't know it was you when I saw you doing that…"
Her eyes widened and she asked in disbelief "You did see that? Wow. That was several weeks ago, before I began to work at Islington! Well, anyway… We should really go swimming some time and then have breakfast together somewhere – that would be so much nicer than coming back to my empty flat…"
Then she realised how needy she sounded and hastened to add with a twinkle in her eyes "Well, next week, I'll be grocery shopping on Saturday because I have a special guest for dinner, but we could talk about going some other time…"
Still dumbstruck, he agreed – and then he tore himself away from her to get changed and start his training. He didn't see how Camille turned to watch him disappear in one of the cubicles, still in a bit of a daze with regard to this entirely unexpected coincidence…
On her way home, Camille couldn't help but shake her head in disbelief a couple of times… It was amazing how this encounter had happened – just by a fluke, he had been later than usual, and she had been out of the pool already, in the hallway… They obviously had missed each other several times already, and since he had only seen her from the distance, he hadn't been sure that it was really her, anyway. Not to mention that when she had jumped off the diving tower, he hadn't known that she was in the UK and consequently must have thought he was seeing a fata morgana and imagining things.
Still, the fact that he had been reminded of her at all… that surely was a sign that he had missed her… He had never said it to her, and although she had felt several times that they were in accord at work and had a good rapport, she had never heard him mentioning that he missed Saint Marie, the team or her. They had never really talked about it – it was more or less a taboo between them. Yes, she had explained what had brought her to the UK, but he hadn't asked much about Saint Marie, and he had clearly never said that he had missed her.
Well, if he had been thinking of her when he had seen 'the woman in the red swimsuit', then maybe he had missed her…
She'd find out.
It also was encouraging to see that they shared an interest in keeping fit. She had suspected that he exercised on a regular basis, but he had never said anything about how and when he did so, and she hadn't wanted to ask. She had known that he went running, and now she knew that he also went swimming – and those were activities that she fancied, too.
She knew they had different reasons for their choice of activities – she would have joined a gym or a health club, but she just couldn't afford it at the moment with her currently rather limited budget - while for him, money most likely was the less relevant issue – he just wasn't the type who'd go to a gym and 'compete' with all the muscle-bound men he surely expected to be there. From experience, she knew that there weren't half as many brawny and muscular guys in gyms as he might think there were, and many men just went to a gym to strengthen their back muscles or because of some other health related issues, but Richard might have made other experiences in the past, and also, he was a solitary type who'd rather do things on his own, so running and swimming were good alternatives for him. One thing was sure – he didn't do either to impress anyone. He went running and swimming only for himself, not for anybody else.
She giggled a little when she remembered how Humphrey had suddenly taken up running and even tried surfing before she had left – actually it had been brave of him to do the latter that as he had absolutely no talent for it! – and it had been clear like crystal that he had done it to impress her. Only a fool would have assumed anything else. And how delighted he had been when she had said he was in pretty good shape – for his age… That last part had perhaps been a bit mean, but she just couldn't help it – it had been necessary to bring him down a peg or two.
At least Humphrey hadn't been so obsessed with correct clothing – he hadn't seen anything 'defamatory' in wearing informal attire. Sometimes, his clothes had even been a bit too informal, on the verge of being sloppy… She remembered how often she had said 'Sir, your jacket is stained' or 'Is that a coffee stain on your shirt, sir?' He had been somewhat hopeless in that respect.
Come to think about it, it was a bit surprising that Richard – who was so easily embarrassed - didn't mind being seen in trunks, but then again – you didn't really see much of people's bodies in the water, and maybe even he didn't find it too outrageous to be seen half naked for the five minutes it took you to get from the showers into the water and back again after your training…
She tried to picture him in swimming gear, but couldn't quite imagine him that way. She had seen him in his pyjamas on Saint Marie a couple of times and found that he was well proportioned, and once she had seen him with an open collar and rolled up sleeves – that had actually been pretty exciting, considering how buttoned-up and formal he had usually been.
But swimming trunks? Hmmm. Well, maybe she'd get a chance some time to see him in those… He hadn't appeared to be all opposed to the idea of going together some time and having breakfast afterwards.
Actually, thinking about his outfits… she had been surprised by today's outfit, too – he had worn jeans and an anorak, along with dark leather ankle boots. She wouldn't have thought he'd own anything like that, but then again – she couldn't imagine anybody wanting to wear suits literally all the time, so it was a bit foolish to be so surprised. It had looked really good on him… plus his hair had been tousled, and his face had been fresh from the cold air outside. He had looked more alive than he had ever done in the two years on Saint Marie.
When her bus arrived and she hopped on, she realised what she was thinking of, and she forced herself not to dwell on his appearance any longer, but go back to her original starting point: Running and swimming. Both were activities she enjoyed, too, and perhaps they could do that together… in a casual, non-committal way. Of course, they could also go to museums or galleries together – provided he didn't choose the most expensive ones, she was very willing to give that a try. So far, she had refrained from doing so as most museums were really expensive, and she didn't know anyone who'd come with her, anyway. She didn't mind going on her own, but she knew from experience that it could be a lot more fun if you had good company.
Well, whatever – it was fun to know that they might exercise together some time. It wouldn't be about competing, but about spending time with someone special… It was strange – her feelings for him were still as intense as they had been when he had lived on Saint Marie, yet they had changed – although it was hard to describe the difference. Basically, it seemed now that she had a deeper understanding for him, and that she discovered new facettes in him now that she saw him acting here on his home turf. He was the same person… but he was less on his guard around her, and it seemed that he wasn't so obsessed with hiding any more.
She remembered how he had responded to her instruction to leave his tie at home when she had invited him for dinner… 'As you wish' had been his words. She smiled – well, he wasn't a farmhand who had gone away from her to seek his fortune so they could get married, and she wasn't Buttercup who was left behind, had to assume he was dead and then got chosen to marry the crown prince of Florin, but she had surely ordered him around quite a bit during their acquaintance – she realised this now – and he had gone away… and they had found each other again under somewhat peculiar circumstances…
There were more parallels: As far as she was concerned, her feelings for him hadn't died. And there was a good case to believe that his for her hadn't died, either…
When Richard ate his eggs on toast for breakfast that he had made himself after he had got home from swimming, he couldn't help but think about the surprising encounter with Camille earlier today and shake his head in astonishment once again – what a coincidence that had been. And she had looked amazing – her outfit hadn't been special in any way, but she had looked incredibly young and alive with her curly open hair and her fresh face.
He was still baffled that she was really the woman in the red swimsuit, and he couldn't quite get his head around the fact that they had been in the same place a couple of times without being aware of it. But well, life worked in mysterious ways.
Had she been serious about going swimming together some time? Well, it would depend on how Saturday evening would go whether or not her suggestion would be realised… If all went well, they might do it… Or they could go for walks together or to museums… Was she interested in that sort of thing at all? He wasn't sure. She had always tried to give him a better idea of what Saint Marie was like and which places were worth a visit – maybe he should make the same effort and introduce her to a few places of interest over here?
He hoped the next week would go smoothly and he wouldn't have to face any major upheaval at work. It would be easier for him to get mentally prepared for Saturday evening if he had a clear head and mind, and if things got too busy at work, he'd find it hard to shrug that off…
They had a few more or less irritating cases going on at the moment, and although the department was well organised and efficient, he was a little worried.
Well, whatever would be, would be. For the moment, he had other things to consider – his house looked like a hovel, and he'd better finish his meal and get started on his chores…