Chapter 16 – Plans and Anticipation

With Camille's exams taking place, however, it was hard to create the romantic atmosphere that he considered a vital prerequisite for something as earth shattering and important as a declaration of his love.

One thing was that he didn't see much of her – and when he did, she wasn't in the right frame of mind for anything apart from panicking over the exams. They got together on the weekend in between her exams, and her nerves were shot because she thought she had made a major mistake in the first exam. She told Richard about it, and after having listened to her, he reassured her that she might have chosen an unusual approach, but the procedure she had followed had been correct, and no, she wouldn't fail the exam because of this. He hadn't seen her this nervous before – and somehow it was moving to see the usually so self-confident and sure-footed woman disappear and realise that she was afraid of failure, just like anybody else. He had managed to distract her and help her focus on other things for a while, but she had always returned to the exams – it had been a pitiable sight.

The other thing was that he wasn't entirely sure how to bring it across without sounding sentimental. And it didn't help that they were approaching Valentine's Day – everywhere he looked, there were pink balloons, gift boxes for 'the important day' and what-not. She'd get her exam results on Valentine's Day – would she be in the mood to hear that he loved her? Wouldn't she be pre-occupied with the results? And what else did he want to do but tell her that he loved her – did he want to come up with a gift? He didn't fancy all the gung-ho around Valentine's Day at all – too commercial! – but his confession would surely become a more memorable event if he had a gift for her.

Flowers? Not again.

Something fancy to wear? No, she already got the shawl for Christmas – he didn't want to recycle that idea. Even he wasn't this unimaginative.

A ring? No, not yet. Too early. Way too early, actually.

A gift voucher? Maybe for a spa treatment? Er… no. How lame! She'd hardly be impressed.

He pondered the possibility of taking her out to dinner, but scrapped the idea immediately. All good restaurants were booked out over Valentine's Day, and anyway… he didn't fancy the vision of sitting in a place with tons and tons of other couples confessing their love to one another – that would be just about the most unromantic and embarrassing thing he could think of.

No, he'd have to find a better solution for this issue…

On Tuesday, he went out for lunch with the team, and on a whim, he decided not go right back to the station afterwards. He felt a little restless and wanted to stretch his legs, so he walked around the area a little, thinking of Camille and wondering how she might be faring in this last exam. Yesterday evening, they had talked on the phone, and she had sounded fairly optimistic about the third exam she had just written… but she was nervous about the last one.

When he checked his watch and realised that he'd have to be back in about 10 minutes, he took the shortcut through a shopping centre. As always around lunch time, it was crowded with people taking their break, doing some last minute convenience goods shopping and looking at the fancy displays in fashion shops.

The two women in front of him were apparently on their way to a jewelry store, and he had to smile a little when he overheard one of them raving about a particular bracelet. The other lady wasn't so convinced and said she'd much rather go to the shop at the other end of the centre – they had more tasteful things – "and not that generic stuff that you get everywhere, like Pandora or Swarovski or what-have-you… really, Charlotte, you always talk about individuality, and then you are so obsessed with this standardised stuff, that's just perverse!"

But Charlotte – whoever she was - couldn't be stirred from her resolve, so the two women turned left, and Richard could make some headway. My, this place really was busy around lunchtime! He remembered that he had wanted to get something sweet for Wednesday evening – wasn't there a chocolate shop in this centre as well?

He approached the direction sign that was listing all the shops, checked his watch once more and sighed. Well, he'd just have to come back after work then. He'd have enough time - Camille had already warned him that she wouldn't be in the mood for getting together tonight – she'd rather take a long, hot shower and fall into her bed straightaway after dinner, as she had explained…

The phone rang while he was pottering around in his kitchen, making himself dinner. It couldn't be Camille because they had just talked, so Richard decided to ignore it. But when he listened to the message on his mailbox later on, he sighed and figured it would be better not to ignore it – he tapped on his phone's screen, selected the relevant number and called his parents.

His mother answered the phone and was delighted to hear back from him so quickly. Sometimes, it took him days to call her back!

"Look, Richard, I just found out that there's a special open day over the coming weekend in Rodmarton Manor near Cirencester on Sunday, and I wondered if you were interested… the tours of the house are almost free of charge on open days, there's huge discount, and you mentioned a while ago that you'd like to see the place sometime. Of course, it's only a limited part of the house that you will be able to see as they are revamping it for the regular opening that will be in May, but apparently they decided that they'd want to give people an appetiser already now that many will show up for the snowdrops season… so you'll get at least an impression… Of course, there might not be so much to look at in the gardens apart from the snowdrops, but maybe… if we're lucky … there might be some early daffodils and a few other flowers already…"

Richard interrupted her torrent of words by saying "Yes, Mother. That sounds good," – and noticed with satisfaction that he had indeed managed to throw her for the loop. He took advantage of her sudden speechlessness and added "I've meant to call you tomorrow, anyway, to ask if it's okay that I'm coming… I'll be renting a car, so you won't have to pick me up and drop me off anywhere – makes it a little easier, I suppose. I'll let you know when I'll leave the city – but it won't be before Saturday morning. Pointless to drive all the way in the weekend rush on Friday…"

"Oh…" his mother clearly was baffled by his swift and calm explanation. "Well, then – you think you'll be there already for lunch on Saturday?"

Richard calculated quickly in his head and then replied "If you don't mind eating a little later than usual, perhaps at around 1 p.m., then yes. Obviously, I can't give any guarantees regarding traffic, so it's better to have lunch a bit later, if that's okay with you… I'll give you a ring when I leave my place…"

His mother didn't have any objections, and they chatted on for a little while. When Jennifer Poole put down the phone and turned around to her husband, she was still quite astonished. "Well, well, well – that's unusual," she murmured.

"What?" Graham Poole looked up from his magazine. She recounted the conversation with Richard, and her husband raised his eyebrows. He didn't know his son very well, but he had seen him making schemes, plans and decisions every once in a while, and he knew that Richard could be very cunning when he pursued a plan, so he suspected that he had something up his sleeve.

However, he wasn't one for speculations, so he shrugged it off and just said "Hm. Unusual, you're right. But I'm sure there's a perfectly simple explanation in the end…"

Camille looked at the clock on the wall and put down the dishtowel she was wearing around her waist as a makeshift apron. Soon, the doorbell would ring, and Richard would be there… She hadn't given him a spare key to her place – and vice versa. Somehow, they had silently agreed on not taking this step at the point they were at right now – it was a matter of respecting each other's space.

It was Wednesday evening – time for their usual mid-week get-together. She was more relaxed tonight than yesterday right after the exams, although she still felt a bit worn out. The exams had been more demanding this time than after the first module, and she had felt more nervous. So, all she had wanted yesterday after her return home had been a hot shower, a bite to eat and a good, long sleep. She had had today off, and the same would go for tomorrow. She'd have to go in again on Friday, though. She had been so exhausted from the exams that she had fallen asleep as soon as her head had hit the pillow and hadn't gone up before 9 a.m. this morning. Actually, she hadn't got up then – she had just brushed her teeth and then indulged in a lengthy breakfast in bed – with good coffee, buttered toast, scrambled eggs and a few extras. It had been heavenly!

She'd find out about her results on Friday… Someone in her course had said that it was ironic that they'd get their results on Valentine's Day – she hadn't even noticed. Valentine's Day had never been all that important to her, and she didn't think it played a major role for Richard, either… He had gone off in a rant about what he called 'commercial holidays' a while ago, and she remembered only too well what he had said about the Erzulie festival while he had lived on Saint Marie.

She had to admit that he had had a point when he had summed up "So, she wears three wedding rings and has three husbands – and she is conceived of as never able to attain her heart's most fervent desire – why is she the spirit of love? That's more like adultery and fornication to me! She rather sounds like the spirit of disaster, confusion and heartache! But well, if you summarise that all under love, you may not be off the mark, after all…"

Of course, Camille had rejected his scorn back then – but then she had read up about Erzulie and realised that he hadn't been entirely wrong with his interpretation. It was all a matter of how you looked at things, she had reckoned. She had kept acknowledging Erzulie, but she had never had another blind date for the festival again… the whole thing had lost its fascination for some reason, and also, there had been more and more commercialism about it, and that had put her off for good. Sometimes she wondered if literally everything she had cherished during her childhood and teenage years would get tainted with time and eventually lose its innocence…

Well, this was not the time to dwell on thoughts like that. She had just taken out the plates and laid out the cutlery on her little table when her phone buzzed and a text popped up – '5 more minutes! Run & hide!'

She giggled with delight – he had become so much more relaxed with her over the past weeks. Of course, he was still buttoned-up and easily embarrassed, but it had become a lot better. Since their 'almost-fall-out' on the evening of Boxing Day, he had made an effort, and it was strange how he had remained the same person, yet came across quite differently now.

If only… if only he were a bit more forthcoming or romantic sometimes… he could be so terribly prosaic!

She didn't quite know what she expected, though – she didn't really have any reason to complain. He was tender and caring, and he took her seriously, he never under-estimated her, and he had already made a few changes to please her… so she should be patient with him – maybe with time, he'd realise that he could actually say something nice without being prompted to do so in the first place. He wasn't consciously rude, and actually he was rather considerate towards her – but at times she wished he'd be a little more… obliging, for lack of a better word.

But these thoughts were soon forgotten when he stood in front of her, kissing her and holding out a box of Belgian chocolates to her and saying "Here… that's for you! The past week has been a bit stressful for you, hasn't it? I thought you might like something that helps to re-establish your balance… I know from experience that these never disappoint when the going gets tough!"

Well, really – he always managed to spring a surprise… hadn't she just inwardly complained about a lack of obligingness? How silly of her to wish he was different – he was just right the way he was!

There were more surprises after dinner. Not only did he notice that her shoulders were still sore from the hunched posture she had adopted while sitting the exams… no, he actually got up from his chair, ordered her to remain seated and gave her a massage – at first only a very light one, but when he noticed (with some satisfaction, apparently!) how much she enjoyed it, he asked her to remove her pullover and then intensified the pressure on her bare shoulders and neck. She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure – oh, this was heavenly! He worked his way to her upper arms, back to her shoulders, to her neck, to the front of her shoulders… the straps of her top slid down, and carefully, he also removed the straps of her bra so there were no obstacles in his way.

The massage slowly turned more into stroking and caressing, his hands eventually slid down to her cleavage, and he began fondling her breasts. Camille felt her body reacting to him, and with a sigh, she leant back on her chair, opened her eyes and looked up to him. Her eyes were full of tenderness and longing, and she put her hands over his, asking softly "Want to stay for the night, Richard?"

He shook his head and said with remorse in his eyes "Not tonight… not when I have to work tomorrow and would have to tear myself away from you way too early in the morning… But the evening isn't over yet, is it?"

With that, he bent down to kiss her – and their conversation got a bit disrupted from there, though it covered all essentials they wanted to talk about at this point. For some things, gestures and half-sentences were quite enough…

When Richard was reluctantly getting dressed again, he remembered he hadn't told her about their forthcoming weekend trip yet.

"By the way," he said, slipping into his trousers, "If you're up to it, I have a plan for the weekend…"

Camille – who was watching him as he was struggling a little with the renitent hook at the waistband - shot him an inquiring look and asked curiously "And what would that be?"

He looked up and responded with a nervous smile "It's a surprise. It comes as part of a package, starting Friday evening with dinner at my place… The only thing I ask of you is that you bring an overnight bag with clothes for two days – nothing too posh, but nothing too casual, either… the kind of thing you'd wear at the office, you know… along with sensible shoes… and that you won't run off screaming once you find out what's going to happen…"

She raised her eyebrows and said "If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're up to something scary, but I can't quite bring myself to believing that. What is it, Richard? What are we going to do?"

He shrugged, still smiling, and said "Isn't it the point of a surprise that you don't know what's going to happen? I'm just trying to – er – be a little less predictable…"

Then, suddenly seemingly serious, he added "Mind you, Camille, I'm actually worried silly already that you might not like it… as long as you don't know what it is, though, I can keep telling myself that it'll work out just fine… You know, the power of wishful thinking!"

She knew that he was partly joking, but there was genuine concern in his voice as well. She gave him a loving smile and said reassuringly "So far, none of our adventures has disappointed me. I'm sure all will be fine. I'm ready for whatever surprise you have in store for me…"

He looked at her as she lay there, propped up on her elbow, her curly hair falling over her shoulders, her eyes soft and tender in the afterglow of their passionate union – and for the umpteenth time he asked himself how on earth it had happened that this amazingly beautiful and brilliant woman had chosen him (he was in no illusion over this – it was the female who chose the male, not the other way round)… and he wondered why he had just got dressed when he really didn't want to leave her now….

But he had things to do tomorrow – they had a few difficult cases to deal with at the moment, and he needed his sleep… Fortunately, Harrison was back by now, so it wasn't only Fryer and himself who'd have to cope with the mess, but still…

She knew all this, so she got up, wrapped the light sofa blanket around herself and hugged him one last time before she closed the door behind him.

Later, when she lay in her bed, wearing her fleece pyjamas and hugging her hot water bottle (Why was it so cold in this country? And how come she needed neither a hot water bottle nor fleece pyjamas when she was sleeping in Richard's bed with him by her side?), she let the evening pass in review – and had to giggle again when she recalled how he had promised her a surprise…

That had sounded a little like Humphrey when he had told her to come to the little bungalow on the beach, and he'd present her a surprise…

Well, Richard's surprise surely would be something more exciting than watching 'Godzilla' or 'Dracula' together, that much was sure!

For a moment she wondered how Humphrey and the team might be faring these days, but then she figured it wasn't important any more – she had been gone for well over half a year now, and most likely Humphrey had long forgotten about her. Catherine had mentioned in an e-mail that he and Florence were a good team and that Dwayne had reported that Humphrey hadn't mentioned Camille any more after a while – he had actually gone as far as saying that it was like Florence and him had always worked together and that their cooperation was perfect… that hadn't sounded like he was missing her.

Camille was glad about that – and so was Catherine. She had made a sardonic comment about Humphrey's lack of sensitivity while they had skyped some time, and Camille had just laughed and remarked that Humphrey liked the idea of deep feelings, but that didn't mean he actually had them. Maybe she was unfair, but she was relieved that this all lay behind her.

She had only written one or two e-mails to Florence – she hadn't wanted her shadow to hover over the team, she had wanted them to forget her, actually. So, it was okay with her that they didn't make efforts to get in touch, either. It was better this way. This didn't mean they couldn't reconnect some time, but for the time being, it was better to go separate ways…

She thought of the compass ring that she had put into her memory box… Maybe it would be good to look through the box once again sometime and revise the contents… She usually did that once a year around Christmas, but this time she hadn't done it – she had been too distracted…

Well, she could do it over one of the next weekends. Not this weekend, though – she'd be busy then!

Richard was relieved to learn that DI Fryer and his team were making progress with one of the trickier cases and apparently getting closer to solving it. He wished reality was a bit more like TV detective shows where teams just had to deal with one case at a time – as if criminals waited in line to do their thing one after another. Unfortunately, real life was different – people didn't stop committing crimes just because at the other end of the district someone had been killed and it wasn't their turn yet to violate the law in whatever way. No, they continued harassing and mugging, hurting and killing people, there was domestic violence, theft, robbery and manslaughter – and nobody asked if the police was perhaps too busy or too understaffed to take on any new cases…

The fact that he didn't have to summon yet another meeting on this particular case meant that he had time to do a little research on the internet, and he managed to take care of most of his shopping after work, too, so he was quite pleased with himself. He had also had something to eat before returning home – not a huge meal, but just a tomato soup in a pub, along with bread and something to drink. He hadn't wanted to spend too much time on waiting for a 'real' dinner – he'd have stuff to do at home…

He knew that Camille had gone swimming tonight – as they were going away over the weekend, she had decided to get a little exercise during the week now that she had the time. Under normal circumstances, he would have come along, but he had already been earlier this week when she had had her exams - and then, of course, he had other plans for the evening…

He was grateful when he finally arrived at home. He had felt his arms getting longer and longer by the minute on the way home from the store – he had his hands full and was beginning to feel like a pack donkey already. Of course, the truth was that he only carried two bags and his briefcase, but one of the bags was rather heavy, and the weather wasn't too cooperative, either, so he was happy when he closed the door behind himself eventually.

At first, he took out all the grocery items in the kitchen – fortunately, they provided cooler bags in supermarkets these days. Some of what he had bought went right into the freezer; other items were stored in the fridge or placed on the worktop near the stove…

Humming along to the radio that was playing in the kitchen, he began to unpack his bags and looked at all the items he had bought, wondering if he had perhaps gone a bit wild… Oh well, the more, the merrier… He wrinkled his nose as he struggled with a particularly obstinate clasp – what did those people who designed packaging make believe that their customers were nimble-fingered superheroes who'd find the predetermined breaking line in every little plastic foil?

After he had unpacked everything and laid it out on the table, he began his work in the living room – and when he was done a little over half an hour later, he was fairly impressed to see the difference. He just hoped Camille would like it. Admittedly, it looked a little – outlandish… for lack of a better word. But then again, that was exactly what he had wanted, so all was good. It was an advantage that the living room was on the backside of the house – he wouldn't have liked his neighbours to see what he had come up with… Not it was any of their business, but he didn't want people to gossip. He knew that there already had been a few raised eyebrows and questioning glances because of Camille's regular appearance at his house over the past weeks, and Mrs Fletcher had tried to find out more already when she had asked him to feed King George over a weekend recently… He had valiantly withstood the temptation to tell her to go and jump into a lake, instead he had just made a few non-committal remarks and distracted her by asking about her plans for the weekend. Just as he had expected, she had jumped on the chance to brag a little – and only when she had returned to her house again and closed the door, she had realised that she hadn't found out anything about the mysterious dark beauty who visited Inspector Poole so often these days…

Eventually, Richard switched off the radio and all the lights, climbed upstairs and went into the spare bedroom where he opened the closet and took out a fresh set of bedlinen. He'd strip the bed tomorrow and put on fresh stuff – with a little luck he'd manage to do so before leaving the house…

He felt his body tingling with a sudden thrill of anticipation. He hadn't thought he'd enjoy this so much, but it really was fun. He just hoped Camille would like his little surprise, too…