Chapter 12 – Holiday Preparations
Despite having to deal with a few stressful cases, everyone at the station got more and more into the holiday spirit, and the team – as a whole - had turned to going to the pub twice during a week. Camille usually just stuck to one drink – she didn't want to splurge and spend too much money on what she called 'entertainment'. When she had moved to London, she hadn't realised that this factor might seriously put a strain on her budget. It hadn't been an issue during the time at the training centre, and she knew that when the next module started, she'd spend more of her evenings at home again, going through notes and studying, but the time at the station had brought her more expenses than anticipated.
She was looking forward to her forthcoming stay in France now – she had made a reservation for Christmas Eve as flights then were surprisingly cheap and not overly hard to book – she figured it was because most people tried to get out already the weekend before. Christmas Day fell on a Wednesday this year, so many people who wanted to go abroad tried to get flights or train tickets for Saturday or Sunday already.
However, Camille was a bit worried because of her friends' current circumstances. She was wondering if she was imposing herself on Alain and Isabelle who had lots of worries because of Alain's father who had been in hospital since late November. Things weren't looking great, and Camille didn't want to add to their stress. Nevertheless, Alain and Isabelle had insisted on her coming over, so she had made her reservations. Just in case there'd be problems, she had insurance via her credit card – if she had to step back from the flight, she'd get a certain percentage of the ticket price reimbursed. Since the flight wasn't overly expensive – she had chosen one of the budget airlines - she wasn't too worried – she had put money aside for that in time – but she was not happy being in limbo like this.
She hadn't mentioned any of that to Richard, though, because she didn't want him to feel 'obliged' to spend the holidays with her – she had not forgotten that they had promised one another to take it slowly, and she didn't want to come across as needy and convey a sense of entitlement. That seemed wrong to her. She knew there was something illogical and warped about how she looked at their relationship at this point – she wanted to be with him, but at the same time, she didn't want him to feel forced into a corner.
Actually, she was a little confused with the whole situation and their respective rôles. No matter how much she enjoyed this slow paced courting - sometimes she felt impatient and said to herself that he'd stop being so passive eventually… Of course, she didn't want him to feel overwhelmed and manipulated – it rather was that she felt he'd have to make a move at her, too. It wasn't enough that he just let things happen – he'd have to play a more active rôle in this!
Then again, however, she was well aware of his inability to figure out how to act at the moment – he knew that she wanted him, and he wanted her, too - but he was afraid of doing the wrong thing, and so he just made tiny little moves that she noticed, but found unsatisfactory. By the same token, she couldn't seriously blame him– he obviously didn't have much experience, and they had had their clashes in the past about all sorts of things, so although he had learnt to read her behaviour patterns somewhat better in the meantime, it was very clear that he was scared he'd mess up. It wasn't easy!
Her last day at the station approached… it was the Friday before Christmas. The day started early for Camille - she had got up earlier than usual and spent half of the morning in a doctor's waiting room. She had been feeling a little off lately, and also she needed to have something checked that she had wanted clarity about, and unfortunately, this had been the only available appointment – someone else had cancelled just before she had called the doctor's surgery, so it had been a bit of a lucky strike that she had got an appointment at all. She had misjudged the availabilty of appointments – at home in Saint Marie, you just went to the doctor's or the clinic's 'open surgery', but well, it was different here. To be honest, it was different in France, too, but she had completely forgotten about all the bureaucracy that came with the more urban infrastructure, the higher density of population and the different pace of life in general.
She definitely would have favoured going at another time, preferably the first day of her Christmas break – then she wouldn't miss part of work, but the doctor's receptionist had been firm – they didn't have any other free time slot for her.
The only other option would have been an appointment in the new year - she had wanted it out of the way before Christmas, though, so she had accepted the appointment and then checked with DI Fryer if she could come in a little later, and he had just shrugged and said amicably "It's your last day, anyway, and by then the report will be written, so I don't see any issue with you coming in a little later. You've always done good work and stayed on to do overtime regularly, so I know you're not a shirker, and if it's of any importance to you – it will be mentioned it in the report that you've always been there to put in extra hours, so don't worry…"
It was good to know that all the work she had put in was appreciated. Of course, she knew that interns had to show willingness to do extra hours, but that didn't mean it would necessarily also get acknowledged by supervisors in reports.
Camille was shattered when she finally arrived at the station. All that waiting at the doctor's had worn her out. She had hoped they could give her a narrowed time window upon her arrival so she could go home again for a little while before re-appearing and seeing the doctor, but no such luck… So she had spent several hours among sniffling and coughing people in the waiting room – not exactly something she really had enjoyed. It had been a relief when she had finally been called and could proceed to see the doctor. Much to her satisfaction, she had obtained all the information she had wanted, and the check-up she had asked for had gone smoothly as well. It was good to have this all out of the way so she could enjoy her Christmas break without having to worry about health issues…
She hadn't mentioned the whole thing to Richard – she hadn't wanted him to worry. She knew that he wouldn't have asked her any questions – that wasn't his style – but he would have been concerned, and really, why bother when there was no reason for him to be alarmed… Since he had been in a meeting with his counterpart from Holloway from nine in the morning until noon, in order to get some of their joint projects on the way, he hadn't noticed her absence, anyway…
In the afternoon, she and Stephen received their reports. DI Fryer had written raving testimonials for both of them, and Superintendent Morris had countersigned them and handed them their copies during a personal conversation. Of course, the originals would go into their dossiers, but it was nice to hold some evidence of how good one's work had been over the past weeks. Stephen and she had both enjoyed working in Islington, and Superintendent Morris had been very satisfied with their work, so everyone was happy.
They all went to the pub together once more, and since several team members would go on leave over the holidays, the atmosphere was relaxed and easy. Richard didn't stay very long as he had plans for the weekend and would have to be up fairly early on Saturday, but he congratulated Stephen and Camille, wished them success for their course and even had a drink with them. After he had left, the rest of the team stayed on, and Camille had to fend off several 'advances' from male team members. Now that she'd leave the station, they felt encouraged to make a pass at her… she wasn't taboo any more.
She was charming but firm in her rejections, but it made her slightly uncomfortable, nonetheless… so she was relieved when she could finally leave for good. She had reacted in a non-committal way to all attempts to ask her out. Secretly, she wondered if they realised how silly they were…
Camille knew that Richard would call her once he'd be back from his weekend trip, but still – she would have wished they'd have a chance to celebrate more properly and spend quality time together. She had seen Richard on weekends regularly over the past few weeks – they had gone sightseeing and for walks, and once he had taken her to a stately home. Winter wasn't the ideal time for sightseeing, but they had made the most of it so far.
As it was, both of them were a little frustrated with their current situation, but neither of them came forward and mentioned it. They hadn't spent any time at Richard's or Camille's place any more after their cooking experiment – somehow, they both felt safer in public places and hence had agreed tacitly not to visit each other at their respective homes. It wasn't that they didn't want to be alone together – actually, the problem was that they both wanted it too much, and they knew instinctively that they wouldn't be able to stick to their original plan of taking it slowly and not overstepping the line they had drawn. Neither of them wanted to admit it, though, and so they both suffered in silence.
The weekend before Christmas was a little lonely for Camille. Richard had gone to visit his parents as they would leave for their cruise on Monday, and he had wanted to see them before their departure. So, Camille was left to her own devices. She didn't feel like swimming, but forced herself to going for a long walk – only to realise that it wasn't half as much fun without Richard by her side.
She got organised for her forthcoming trip, though – she wrapped the little gifts that she had got for Alain and Isabelle, folded the clothes she wanted to take with her and stacked them on the sofa and checked her to-do list to see what else was on the agenda before she left on Tuesday afternoon. A little wistfully, she looked at the beautiful orchid that was blossoming on her window sill… she hoped it would survive her absence. She had never had a green thumb, and she was quite proud of herself that she hadn't killed the plant by now. The cactus was going strong, too, so that was nice…
Well, she and Richard could celebrate the end of her internship on Monday evening - she'd see him one more time before the holidays – he had asked her if she wanted to have dinner with him and booked a table in a restaurant. It would be their first real date, she figured – if you wanted to define it that way. They wouldn't have to hide any more then. She also hoped they'd spend New Year's Eve together – and she was determined to make the most of it. She wasn't interested in spending New Year's Eve with a bunch of strangers… she wanted to have her own private fireworks with him…
Her flight back to London would be on the 30th, so she would only be in France for five days all in all. As much as she was looking forward to seeing Alain and Isabelle… she was also sad that she and Richard couldn't spend Christmas together…
Richard heaved a big sigh of relief when he plopped on his seat on the train. His parents had taken him to Birmingham to catch the train there – that was more convenient for him as he could get a direct connection. They had had lunch together in Birmingham before they had taken him to the station.
It had been nice to see his parents, but also a bit daunting. His mother had clucked over him and said several times how sad it was that he would have to spend Christmas on his own – how inconsequent of her, he thought. She had been the one who'd said that he was old enough to spend the holidays alone, hadn't she! Eventually, his father had put his foot down and said that she shouldn't be ridiculous – that had done the trick, and she had stopped talking about this topic.
Then, however, she had started talking about their forthcoming trip and reciting all the places they would visit. Richard hadn't been all that interested in that, either. Eventually, his mother had noticed his reticence and turned to other – more general – topics.
The truth was that he didn't want to be reminded of having to spend the holidays all by himself. It was bad enough already, wasn't it. When he had heard about their cruise for the first time, he had shrugged it off as it really hadn't been that important to him, but now that he and Camille had become an 'item' – well, in a way, at least – it was different. He felt a little more vulnerable and unsettled, and being on his own for the holidays would give him too much time to think and agonise over… well, all sorts of things.
He knew that the point wasn't that he'd miss his parents – he just didn't want to be by himself, and spending the holidays with them would at least have distracted him.
He really felt that he and Camille should be together for Christmas. But well, it wasn't meant to be. They'd get together for a meal on the evening before Christmas Eve, and they'd have New Year's Eve, and he was looking forward to both…
He was debating with himself over whether he should give her the gift he had got for her before or after Christmas and decided he'd take it with him and play it by ear. He hadn't forgotten how she had admired his cashmere cardigan, and he had seen how she had kept looking at cashmere shawls at the shops when they had gone sightseeing… and he knew that she couldn't afford buying one at this point, so he had got one for her. It was a pattern he wouldn't have chosen for himself, but it would suit her perfectly – it was checked, multi-coloured in dark green, red and a warm orange-yellow – and it resembled the colour pattern of mangos. He hoped she'd like it. It was warm, light, soft and cuddly. It had been fairly expensive – more so than the ones she had looked at - but it was excellent quality, and even if she returned to the Caribbean, she could always use it as a decorative rug for her couch then as it was rather large.
He tried not to think of that possibility… he didn't want to lose her once again. They had just acknowledged their feelings for one another, and it was getting increasingly difficult to resist. From what she had said, she didn't look at this as a temporary thing, but then again – did she want to stay in the UK?
Or did she think that he could be convinced to move back to the Caribbean?
He had suffered quite a bit over there – he hadn't exaggerated when he had said to her that he hadn't been physically well over there a lot of the time… Of course, his choice of attire and the somewhat unfavourable living conditions had been part of the problem, he knew that, but even with air conditioning and lighter clothing, he wasn't entirely sure if he could live in that part of the world on a permanent basis. Not to mention that he wasn't sure about the job situation – they'd have to live somehow, wouldn't they…
He remembered that she had hesitated when Constable Collins had asked her about a possible return. Obviously, she hadn't been so sure if she wanted to return at all – at least that had been his impression… but maybe it had only been wishful thinking? But of course, she had known that there was no job guarantee for her when she had left Saint Marie; that might mean that she didn't care, anyway?
By the time he had reached London he had pondered and dis-sected the situation several times, and still he hadn't really come to a definite conclusion. The factor 'C' for Camille was just too unpredictable - or too capricious… or too complicated… if you wanted to stick to the 'C'…
Their dinner 'date' wasn't anything posh or fancy – Richard had reserved a table in a small restaurant in Stanmore, not too far from Camille's place. For a moment he had considered a more upscale restaurant in the city, but that would have meant she would have had to come into the city and each of them would have had a long way home afterwards – that didn't seem sensible. Also, the posh places all were over-booked, anyway – and the 'medium posh' ones, too. Plus, there were Christmas parties all over the place… it certainly would be less crowded in Stanmore.
So, he went home after work, got changed and took the bus to Stanmore - and they met up in the restaurant. It was a fairly unspectacular place, but cosy, nonetheless, plus the staff was nice, the food was good, and with the Christmas decorations everywhere, it certainly looked glamorous and festive.
They had a quiet meal together and talked a little about the last weekend. They both weren't exactly talkative – a certain melancholy was hovering over their heads. Still, it was nice to spend time together, and Camille was happy that she had a chance to see Richard before her departure.
As they were waiting for dessert to be served, Camille cleared her throat and said with a smile "Well, since I won't see you any more before the holidays, I think it's time to give you your Christmas present…"
With that, she rummaged around in her bag and took out a rectangular packet, wrapped in nice shiny white gift paper, decorated with red and green stars. Richard was a little embarrassed when the waiter showed up to bring them their blueberry pancakes with vanilla ice cream and gave them a curious look, but then again, why would he care…
He retrieved the gift bag that he had hidden in a regular plastic bag and handed it to her, saying "I've got something for you, too… I hope you'll like it. Since you kept looking at that sort of thing, I figured you might perhaps enjoy having something like this…"
Camille peeked into the gift bag – but he had not only put the shawl into the bag, he had wrapped it as well, so she took out the packet and began to fumble on the bow and the ribbon. She was curious – it was soft, and light, and fairly big… what could it be? Richard enjoyed watching her – she was like a child in her curiosity and enthusiasm… But then she stopped and said "Aren't you curious about your gift? I hope I've found the right thing for you – please, go ahead and unwrap it… I'll wait until you're done before I'll continue with mine…"
When Richard saw the book about Roman history that Camille had chosen for him, he was genuinely touched – he had seen it in a book store on the weekend when they had been sightseeing together, and he had commented on how much he'd like to have it, but that he might wait for it to come out as a paperback before getting it. It was by a well-known author who was famous for doing excellent research. On top of that, she had added a particularly pretty brass bookmark – it was a stylised miniature tree. He had admired that in the book store and said that it was 'nice work', and obviously she had taken advantage of him being distracted by a book about astronomy to pick and buy it, along with the book and a little box of flower-shaped paperclips. She had shown him the paperclips afterwards when he had asked what she had bought, remarking that they reminded her of Saint Marie - but he hadn't known about the book – or the bookmark.
She saw his eyes lighting up and knew that he liked his gift. He took her hand and squeezed it lightly, saying "Thank you so much – you know very well how much I wanted to have this book, but I couldn't make up my mind and buy it when I saw it. It's a lovely gift, and I look forward to reading it. And the bookmark is perfect. I'll be thinking of you when I use it!"
"You better do that," she said with a cheeky smile. He released her hand so she could continue fiddling with the big red bow on her package. "Really, Richard – did you have to fix it with a double knot?" she sighed reproachfully. He couldn't help but grin. With a slightly gleeful undertone he asked "Well, isn't unwrapping part of the fun?"
She rolled his eyes at him. Finally, the bow was opened, the ribbon was put to the side, and she slid her hand carefully between the layers of paper. She felt the soft material and looked up incredulously. Then the paper was discarded hastily, and she held the shawl in her hands. For a moment she just stared at it in disbelief, then she lifted it to her face, held it against her cheek and took in the scent, her fingertips caressed the material, and finally she looked up, pure joy in her eyes, and said softly "Oh, thank you, Richard – this is amazing!" She almost jumped up to come around and kiss him, but then she realised that they were in a restaurant, so showing her full excitement would have to wait.
She opened out the shawl to admire it, and now she could see all the colours – and she loved it even more. It didn't only feel smooth and soft, it also looked beautiful. She put it around her shoulders and said with awe in her voice "This is perfect… I'm almost ashamed now that I only got a book for you – but…"
He interrupted her by shaking his head and saying warmly, though slightly awkwardly "Don't say that. I love what you got for me, and it's not about who came up with the most expensive gift. It's the thought behind it – and I can see that you did think about what I might like. So, don't say that it's not good enough. It is. More than that. And now let's get on with the pancakes before they're completely cold…"
He was relieved that his gift obviously was a winner – she kept stroking the material with her fingers, pure delight on her face. He was fascinated with how her hands grazed the shawl and imagined for a moment what it would be like if she touched him like this… but as soon as he noticed where his thoughts were heading, he forced himself to focus on his dessert…
When they had left the restaurant and stood on the pavement, next to a tree that had no leaves any more, indecisive and not quite sure what to say or do now, she finally came up with a hesitant "So, I guess I'll go home now… Thank you for the lovely evening, Richard, and… happy holidays!"
She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, lightly, but then she found that she couldn't resist – she moved to his lips, and a second later, she felt how he put his arms around her and pulled her closer, kissing her warmly and with much feeling. She responded instantly, and for a little while they forgot that they were standing in the middle of Stanmore, in front of a restaurant, within full visibility of everyone who might be interested to watch. Not that there were many people around – the street was quiet, an elderly woman walking her dog briefly looked over to them before she turned a corner, and that was it. The restaurant staff all were too busy, and the guests were pre-occupied with their own affairs, so nobody witnessed their passionate kiss.
"Happy holidays, and have a safe trip…" he whispered when he could speak again. His voice was husky with tenderness and a hardly hidden longing.
Camille bit her lip and then replied softly "Happy holidays, Richard. I can't wait… I can't wait to see in the New Year with you… I must… I must go now, though…"
He nodded and let his arms reluctantly slide down her sides so she could pull away.
She gave him a last smile, and then he watched her as she went away, turning around once more to wave him goodbye – and then she was gone.
His shoulders sagged. He sighed, turned around and went to the bus stop, trying to come to terms with the fact that he'd spend yet another lonely Christmas all by himself…
On Tuesday morning, Camille woke up with the feeling that it was a special day. She saw her suitcase in one corner, her handbag placed on top of it… What was all that about?
Then she remembered… Oh yes, it was Christmas Eve, and she'd go to France in the afternoon! She'd get together with Alain and Isabelle, and they'd spend five days together, chatting, going out, meeting other friends, cooking together – it would be fun.
As she got ready and had breakfast, she realised that something was different. It was very, very quiet outside. She pulled up the blinds and saw that it was extremely foggy. She had experienced fog in the UK before – there had been some days this autumn when you could barely see your hand in front of your face, but this… this was more than that. This was impenetrable, opaque, devious fog… And it was cold as she noticed when she opened her window – the air was freezing… So, it surely was slippery outside as well! How was she supposed to get to the airport under those conditions?
Then another thought crossed her mind… maybe her flight wouldn't happen after all? She was supposed to be at the airport around noon, and now it was 9 a.m. She'd have to leave in half an hour if she wanted to be there in time… She checked her phone, and sure enough, there was a text message that fog and the general weather conditions were obstructing the traffic on the airport, and flights were postponed and cancelled. There was a note that she should consult her air line's website or contact them directly… She checked the website, and indeed, her flight was among those that would be postponed or maybe even cancelled.
A note mentioned that flights scheduled for the afternoon would partly get postponed to the next day if the weather didn't clear up and that – if their flight was on the respective list - customers could change their bookings to another date within six months if the rescheduling interfered with their plans.
She knew that this was unusual service – most airlines – let alone the cheap ones – had the habit of staving off their customers and would try anything to get their air crafts filled to the brim. But maybe they made an exception because it was Christmas and they knew that those who had booked for the day before Christmas didn't want to spend the holidays on an airport. It was different if you just went for a city trip and could go a day later without any trouble, but for a holiday trip, being late like this would be a bummer, and most people would prefer staying home to sitting around on the airport waiting for a flight that might or might not happen. She also reckoned that even if her flight just got postponed and not entirely called off – she might not arrive in Paris before the wee hours of the next morning. And then she'd have only four days with Isabelle and Alain, everything would be hectic, they'd have to pick her up in the middle of the night… it sounded disastrous.
There was a link to the list of the rescheduled flights – and sure enough, there was hers, on top of the list.
She sat there in front of her laptop for a few moments, idly twisting a strand of her hair and trying to come to a decision. Maybe, this was a sign… or was she interpreting too much into this?
Whatever… she drew in a deep breath and picked up her phone…