Chapter 18 – Weekend Fun

In the end it wasn't so difficult, and Richard was surprised at how easily he had said it…

They had left the dishes in the sink, switched off the lights everywhere and climbed the stairs to the upper floor together, hand in hand. When they had arrived in the bedroom, Camille had whispered "Close your eyes, Richard… please…"

Obediently, he had done as she'd asked – by now he had known that she'd had something special in store for him, and he hadn't wanted to spoil the atmosphere by asking too much – although he had been a little nervous. So far, her surprises had never disappointed him…

They had remained standing, and he had wondered what would happen now… She had remained silent, then he had felt her flat palms on his chest for a moment… She had unbuttoned his shirt and discarded it, then her hands had come under his T-shirt, sliding over his torso before she had grabbed the hem and helped him to get out of the garment. His breath had hitched when he had felt her hands ghosting over his bare shoulders, his chest, along his flanks, his stomach…

All his other senses seemed to be heightened because of his closed eyes, and her touch, light as a feather, had been nearly too much for him to bear. He had almost wanted to grab her hands to stop her from teasing him, but then again – it had felt too good, and he hadn't wanted it to stop!

Then she had given him a tiny little push so he had fallen on the bed – before he had known it, she had been by his side… her hand had been in his hair for a moment, and she had reminded him softly to keep his eyes closed.

Deftly, she had opened his belt, and in between dotting little butterfly kisses all over his body, she had slowly, teasingly helped him to get rid of his trousers and underpants. For a moment, he had lay there, utterly exposed to her in his desire, asking himself what she might think now. Well, she wasn't unfamiliar with this sight any more at this point, but still…

She hadn't left him in doubt – her lips and her tongue had been there to caress him, and she had whispered hoarsely "Mind you, Richard… you have no idea how handsome you are…" – then, she had added in an admonitory tone "… but don't forget to keep your eyes shut!"

He had felt her hot breath in his groin area and his body's excited reaction… but still, he had waited for further instructions, forcing himself not to open his eyes. Suddenly, he had heard the soft rustling of material, and he had felt her moving… An instant later, he had felt her naked body on his – she had got rid of her clothes and come to lie on top of him, pressing herself against him, kissing him and driving him insane with the soft swivelling movements of her hips.

His arms had encircled her and they had rolled over so he had got on top. He had pulled away for a moment, finally opening his eyes, so he could look into her face. "Am I allowed to look at you now?" he had asked huskily.

"Anything you fancy…" she had replied with a sultry smile and added "… but I suppose I'll give you something to look at then… if that's what you want…" – and with that, they had rolled over once more so she had been on top again. She had sat up, straddling him, a lustful gleam in her eyes, and he had stroked the soft skin of her legs and then moved up to take a little detour to the dark triangle at the apex of her thighs. He had felt the dampness of her curls, and his fingers had probed deeper, eliciting a long, soft keening sound from her… until she had shifted a little, moving away from him.

He had understood that she'd want a longer build up, and so he had reluctantly moved his hands away to palm her beautiful firm derriere for a moment and then moved up to caress her sides – not without brushing the peaks of her breasts with his thumbs - before pulling her down again so he could kiss her.

And that had only been the beginning… They had indulged in a drawn-out, playful overture to a very passionate and all-consuming union. They had taken their time - it had been slow, yet ardent, and they had savoured every second of it… There had been sighs, moans and soft keens, mixed with incoherent fragments of words or half-sentences, and there had been silence, interrupted by gasps, pants and cries… all culminating in a noisy finale when they had reached their climax together

And when Camille had rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled up to him afterwards, he hadn't been able to keep the words inside any longer.

"I love you, Camille," he had said.

And her answer had been "I know… and I love you, too, Richard…" – with that, she had let her hand slide gently over his chest. There was silence for a moment before she added "I had hoped you'd say it one day. Not that your actions hadn't spoken volumes already, and that's what counts… Plus you did say that you don't want me to leave… but still… it's reassuring to actually hear the words…"

"Hmmm. I was afraid I'd make a mess of it. And I thought of all the times I had misinterpreted people's behaviour… and I got worried…"

She had raised her eyes to him and asked incredulously "What on earth is there to misinterpret about my behaviour in this instance? Isn't it entirely clear that I spend time with you because you are important to me? And I suppose it's obvious that I wouldn't be in this bed with you if I didn't want it… I won't dash off with the next best man, you know… but…" - she had paused for a moment before continuing in a softer voice - "I know what you mean, I didn't have the courage to say it, either… although I was fairly confident that you wouldn't mind…"

With a sigh, he had responded "Oh, Camille… I don't really put much trust in my own observations any more when it comes to these things, you know… And to be honest, I would have been scared out of my wits if you had said it too early… "

After that, he had pulled her closer, and they had not talked any more until they had both fallen asleep.

When Camille came down into the kitchen at around 9 in the morning, Richard was already busy putting away the dishes from their dinner the night before. "Oh," she said "you should have waited until I was up – we could have done them together…"

"Good morning," he said with his typical half smile, looking over his shoulder as he was stowing away the dessert bowls in one of the cabinets. Then he turned around to kiss her – and when they managed to let go of each other, he said "There wasn't enough time. I've booked a car and have to pick it up in about an hour, so it's breakfast now, and then we're off for the remainder of the weekend. I've already packed my stuff, and your bag hasn't been touched – except for what you took out for showering and all that – so we have enough time for our toast and whatever else you'd like to have…"

"Oh… where are we going?" she asked curiously as she helped him carry the plates and the other utensils into the dining area of the living room. She had completely forgotten about that part of the surprise – the other part was still there… he hadn't taken the decorations down, so it still slightly resembled a jungle.

"Want a boiled egg?" he asked, and she nodded. "That would be nice – thanks. But again, Richard, where are we going?"

"I'll be right back…" He disappeared in the kitchen again, and Camille followed him, getting a little annoyed now – although she was also amused with his attempts to distract her.

He put on the water for the eggs and then turned around to face her. A nervous look was in his eyes when he finally replied "I'll tell you after breakfast, I promise. I just want to get something else… done… before I tell you, okay?"

"Curious and curiouser…" She raised her eyebrows and shook her head in mock disapproval, but when she saw his anxious look, she smiled and said "Fine. I take your word that it'll be worth my time…"

She returned to the table, and Richard brought the eggs a little later, stored in a little basket that his mother had given him when he had moved into this house. He took out his egg rightaway to eat it before anything else, so the basket sat next to Camille's plate while they chatted about this and that during breakfast. When Camille lifted the lid of the basket to take out her egg, she saw that something else was 'nestling' inside – a little black pouch was sitting next to the egg. She shot a furtive, slightly inquiring glance over to Richard who tried to appear completely unruffled and oblivious, but actually watched her apprehensively… The suspense was killing him, but he remained quiet.

For a moment, Camille was tempted to leave him hanging, but then curiosity got the better of her, and she exclaimed – seemingly totally taken aback – "Oh, what's this – look, Richard, there's something hidden in your egg basket… Do you think it's something dangerous?"

He pursed his lips in a mix of relief and amusement about her approach to the mysterious little pouch. Gravely, he said "I'm afraid you'll have to see for yourself, Camille. If it is dangerous, I'm quite useless – you know how scared I am of things that could pounce on me…"

There was open glee in her eyes now – he was silly, and she loved it! She took out the pouch – now she saw that it wasn't entirely black – there was a light golden pattern printed on it, and the drawstrings were golden, too. She fingered the pouch, trying to guess the contents, but to no avail.

"I'm afraid you'll have to open it," Richard said earnestly, "but please, be careful…"

She gave him an impish grin and drew the strings open, then turned the pouch upside down, holding her hand under the opening.

Three items fell out… and with an awestruck expression on her face, Camille realised it was a golden necklace with a pendant, along with matching earrings. She pushed her plate to the side and laid everything out on the dark red placemat in front of her… a pretty golden chain with a flower-shaped pendant and golden earrings in the same floral design… She took the necklace into her hand and let the pendant dangle in front of her eyes, admiring the delicate work, then she put it down again and looked up to Richard who was sitting opposite to her, watching her eagerly…

"Frangipani!" she said, a mix of delight and disbelief in her voice. "Frangipani – where on earth did you get this, Richard? This is lovely – or rather, these are lovely… I haven't seen anything like this around here before, so…"

He cleared his throat and explained "I got them… I got them in a special jewelry shop – quite coincidentally… and originally, I was intrigued by something else I saw in their shop window, but when I went inside, this caught my eye, and well, there we are… They… they reminded me of Saint Marie, and I thought… I thought this way you can always carry a little piece of home with you… The shop owner's wife apparently is Sri Lankan, and he said that it was her who came up with the design. He told me she was – she was homesick and wanted to create something that reminded her of her country, and she's much into flowers and such… Since plumeria apparently is very common over there, she decided to create something that involved this flower. Also, the owner told me that frangipani is associated with worship in Sri Lanka… And it's also featured in Swahili love poems… in Kenya and other East African countries." Then, after a short pause, he explained conscientiously "I have read up that part, but the shop owner told me all the other things…"

Camille gazed at him in astonishment as he came up with his little lecture. Finally, she spoke again, her voice thick with emotion "And you… and you got this especially for me?"

He got up and came over to her, taking the chain from her hand and saying tenderly "Well, yes. It wouldn't look half as good on me, you know… and I don't have my ears pierced, so that would make it hard for me to wear the complete set, anyway…" He added "Originally, I had wanted to give you all this yesterday evening after dinner… but somehow I got distracted, and then I feel asleep, so…" He didn't finish his sentence.

She couldn't help but smile at his words, then she asked "Would you help me putting on the necklace?" He did as requested, and she put on the earrings as well. Before he knew what she was up to, she had got up and cupped his face with her hands. "Thank you so much, Richard," she whispered, and then she planted a light kiss on his lips –it turned into a more passionate one very quickly, though. When they broke for air, she whispered "You know what, Richard – I never would have thought I'd say that to you one day, but you sometimes do the most surprising and unpredictable things…"

Then she added "Which reminds me… I've been a good girl, so will you tell me now where we are going after breakfast?"

He smiled and replied "You haven't eaten your egg yet… But I'll tell you anyway, if you promise you're not going to run and hide… We're going to see my parents in Gloucestershire."

He saw the surprise on her face and hastened to explain how his mother had called him and it had just seemed like a good idea to him.

She asked "And do they know that I'm coming?"

He shook his head and replied "Well, I couldn't say you're coming when I hadn't asked you – and I didn't want to ask you before I had… before I had made it clear how… how I feel about you… so… yeah, I guess they'll be a little surprised… But my mum has kept asking me about Saint Marie and if I ever heard from you, blah, blah, blah, so I think she will be happy to see you and talk your head off in the process of showing you how pleased she is, and my father… well, you know what he's like, so…"

A dimple appeared in her cheek when she smiled and replied softly "Oh yes, I know what he's like… demonstratively un-emotional and taciturn… like his son before he started to unbend and discover that life is more than going to work and living by the book…"

When they returned on Sunday evening, they both were somewhat knackered. It had been a marvellous weekend – but also a little tiring. Needless to say, Jennifer and Graham Poole had been rather surprised (albeit excited) to see Camille – they hadn't expected their son to take her (or anybody else!) along without letting them know in advance.

Against all odds, Jennifer had managed to keep her mouth shut about her communication with Catherine who had mentioned that apparently Richard and Camille had met again through work, but weren't more than just good friends at the moment… she had known that it wouldn't go down too well - neither with Camille, nor with Richard - if she had disclosed that she and Catherine had been speculating about their relationship status.

Camille had not revealed to her mother that she had spent Christmas at Richard's house – she had mentioned that her trip to France hadn't happened, but had Catherine deliberately let believe that she had been 'with friends' over the holidays. However, she had mentioned that she and Richard had seen in the New Year together – without going into detail about it, either. Catherine knew very well that Camille wouldn't answer any questions at this point – when she was behaving like that, it meant that something was in limbo and she didn't want to talk about it. So she hadn't been able to give Jennifer any detailed information.

She only had said in an e-mail that apparently Camille wanted to take up the thread and see how Richard would respond to her attempt to make a pass at him, but so far, she hadn't reported about any successes. She had also said, though, that Camille had a mind of her own and wouldn't inform her about every little thing that would happen – she'd much rather sort it all out and come up with the result then. So, for the moment, all seemed to be up in the air.

It was a relief for Jennifer to realise that her son had got his act together and finally admitted to himself that he had indeed feelings for Camille. During her stay on Saint Marie, she had been preoccupied with her own issues, but she had noticed that Richard had sometimes looked at his DS in a decidedly unprofessional manner. It hadn't been too obvious, and Camille perhaps hadn't realised it, but Jennifer knew her son, and she had understood his dilemma. He wasn't used to 'having feelings' and expressing them – apart from negative ones – and it had been totally clear to her that he would never allow himself to 'fall for someone'. That wasn't part of his hard-wired programme – which was mostly based on a mix of bad experiences and fear of being ridiculed and let down. And Richard was so stubborn… he'd never give in. He'd never admit that someone had got under his skin…

So, when he had returned to the UK, Jennifer had been sad to see that Richard's life apparently hadn't changed one bit – it had been like he had remained the same person, unchanged and unaltered… Only after a while she had seen the little things that had become different – but she hadn't been convinced that this would be enough for him to turn his life around. And maybe he actually liked his life the way it was? He was such a wonderful man in many respects, and she was terribly proud of him, but his social ineptitude and awkwardness really were awful – and they would always stand in his way. And which woman would have the patience to overcome the obstacles and fences he had put up?

Well, Camille obviously had it. Jennifer had never got behind what had happened between her and Richard, but he had only given her one-syllable-answers when she had asked him about his team and if he ever heard from them, so she had finally stopped asking and buried all hopes. When Catherine had updated her on Camille's decision to come to the UK, these hopes had resurfaced, and it had driven her batty that he had never talked about it. She had felt so helpless… She knew very well that Richard had drawn all sorts of strings to make Graham come over to Saint Marie after her sudden departure from the UK, and she was incredibly grateful for his efforts – she would have loved to help him out of his misery now – but there was no way she could do that.

So, the relief that finally something had happened was beyond words.

Graham hadn't said anything about Jennifer's and Catherine's communication, either. It was none of his business. He knew that they talked about all kinds of things, and their offspring was only one of many topics.

He hadn't known for sure how Richard felt about Camille, and he felt that unless there was an acute crisis, he should keep out of his son's life, anyway. He was grateful that Richard had stepped in and made him fly over to Saint Marie by concocting a scheme together with Selwyn Patterson, but he knew that Richard would never forgive him if he made a move – and it had turned out to be the wrong one… No, no – he'd rather wait and see. If some sort of crisis came up, it would be different, but given the circumstance that Richard seemed quite content with his life, meddling would be wrong.

Still, he was relieved to see that Richard appeared to be happier now and that he had indeed got together with Camille… who was a lovely woman, for that matter… A little too feisty and resolute, maybe, but well, if Richard didn't mind, who was he to object? Actually, perhaps that was just what he needed – he would be bored with someone meek and demure.

Of course, neither Camille nor Richard were aware of all these thoughts and feelings, so they had been pleasantly surprised by how accepting and un-agitated his parents had acted when they had showed up together, and as long as Camille and Richard had acted like good friends around each other without really displaying more than 'general' affection for one another, all had gone fine.

However, it had got a little awkward when Richard's mother had asked if Richard wanted to sleep on the couch in the living room so that Camille could have the guestroom to herself – they had exchanged an uneasy glance, not quite sure what to say… and Jennifer had smiled inwardly, wondering how much they would admit and how they'd handle this…

Camille had taken a deep breath, but before she had been able to say something, Richard had replied matter-of-factly "Thank you, Mother, but I don't think that's necessary. Camille and I certainly know each other well enough for sharing the guestroom."

Graham had just raised his eyebrows, but Jennifer hadn't been able to suppress a delighted smile when she had said "Well, then… I just hope you won't find the sofa bed too inconvenient… it's a little on the narrow side…"

But it had turned out to be fine – Camille had actually enjoyed being cuddled up to Richard like this – and he hadn't complained, either…

Another awkward moment had come when they had been at Rodmarton Manor near Cirencester and sat down to have tea and cake before going home…

Before going to the manor, they had also had a look at the town of Cirencester – driving there had been a bit trying as the streets were somewhat confusing. Camille had been in awe with Richard's driving and orientation skills – the fiendish one-way system had been bad enough to drive a saint to distraction, and for a moment, she had wondered if the town had anything to hide – they made it so difficult to get in that you couldn't help but get unnerved, scratch your head and ask yourself if there was a hidden agenda. But the little tour that Richard and his parents gave her made up for the confusing and apparently random drive around town – Cirencester actually had a lot to offer, and Camille particularly had enjoyed exploring the old and majestic cathedral.

Rodmarton Manor had been fun, too… They had seen the gardens (and fortunately, the weather had been cooperative, so they had been able to admire the snow drops in their full glory) and toured the house, and since many of the signs had been not only in English but also in other languages, Richard's mother had taken this as an inducement to ask Camille if she was teaching Richard some French. Richard had choked on his tea, and he had felt the blood rising in his cheeks when he thought of the French words he had learnt from Camille so far (not to mention other things that the French apparently did when they were in love with someone!)… They were all more or less bedroom-related, and some of them were clearly not suitable for the public. His dad had to give him a thump on the back, and when Camille had turned to him to give him a napkin and ask if he was okay she had seen the desperate look in his eyes and realised that they had obviously thought of the same thing… so she had to suppress a giggle…

Jennifer Poole hadn't known what had been so funny about her question, but Camille had saved the situation by saying "Oh, Jennifer – you know he's never been into French in whatever context, but I've insisted on teaching him a little, and he's trying hard, although he seems to find it a little challenging sometimes… I'm pleased to say that overall he's making good progress… and although he'd surely never admit it, I'm quite certain that he actually enjoys it…"

A cheeky glance in Richard's direction had made him turn beetroot again, and he had said pompously "Really, Camille, I have no idea what you're talking about…"

His mother had looked curiously from Camille's face to Richard's, and although she hadn't quite got the underlying meaning of it all, she had the feeling that they were having fun at her expense…

Ah well, never mind. She was too happy to feel piqued.

When they arrived in front of Camille's place, Richard parked the car and said "It's a shame, but I think our weekend is coming to an end now…"

Camille nodded and replied "Yes, I think so, too - unless, of course, you want to have dinner here with me. I mean, it's a bit pointless if you go home now and we both eat at our respective place – I have enough here for the two of us, and I can stock up on my supplies tomorrow… Hammersmith should have some shops, and if not, I certainly know my way around here by now, too!"

That sounded sensible to Richard, and so they went upstairs to spend a cosy evening at Camille's place. When they snuggled up together on the couch after dinner, Camille suddenly began to laugh at the memory of Richard's face earlier today, and when he asked what was so funny, she explained – and he joined her laughter.

"Boy, I thought I'd die from embarrassment – I don't think I'd want my parents to know just what kind of words exactly you have taught me… I couldn't possibly say them to anybody but you, anyway!"

Actually, he still didn't say them aloud but only dared whispering them in her ear… And everything else Camille had taught him on bedroom activities had been a revelation to him – he had known about some of them in theory, but he had never expected to get close enough to someone so he might try them. Some things had seemed a bit far-fetched to him, and he had wondered if they were really as enjoyable as people claimed – or if it was all just exaggerated and enormously inflated. Camille had shown him that there were no limits as long as they both enjoyed what they were doing.

He sobered and concluded "Seriously… it's not the kind of topic I'd wish to discuss with anybody, let alone my parents…"

Obviously, Camille's relationship with her mother was different, and she said as much to Richard. "She always wanted me to know about these things… about the joy as well as about the risk that can lie in all the implications of relationships. Not that you can foresee the future, and of course, we all have to make our own experiences, but she has always made it clear that if something doesn't feel right to me, I shouldn't go for it – and that has been a very valuable piece of advice, not only in regard to physical matters, but generally spoken as well…"

Richard took a sip of wine and mused "Hmmm. Those are wise words… I can't say anybody ever gave me advice on that topic - which is probably why I'm so hopelessly clueless about the whole thing… But I'm learning now, I guess…"

"Oh yes, you are, indeed," Camille replied warmly, gently ruffling his hair. Then she added thoughtfully "Though… you surely know that only practice makes perfect…"

He put his wine glass back on the couch table and pulled her towards him, letting his hands slide down her sides to her waist and whispering "You mean you're willing to give me another lesson, some kind of compensation for not doing so last night?"

She shrugged, feigning indifference, and said "Well, I could - if you'd like me to…"

His face came closer, and just before his lips met hers, he whispered "Very much so, Camille, very much so…"