Chapter 21 - Doubts

Camille was sitting on the bus, returning home from the training centre. Spring had arrived, and things had been going very well for her lately. Almost too well. The current module was going smoothly, and she and Claire had formed a good work friendship. They had started to compare their notes and often sat together in the cafeteria to discuss subject matters they had talked about during lessons – it made going to lessons a lot more pleasant, and Camille didn't feel so lonely any more. The first few months in the UK had been difficult, but now that she felt more at home, everything was easier.

Even the 'Stephen issue' was resolved now – he had apparently met someone in Southwark, and apparently, the interest was mutual, so he was currently in the early stages of a relationship and had no eyes for Camille any more. He was still friendly, but not 'intense' in his attention any more. She was enormously relieved about that – it could have become difficult if he had kept running after her. She had realised that – besides the fact that she was only interested in Richard – one major turn-off about Stephen was that he reminded her of Humphrey in a particular way – although she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

Then she realised that maybe it was the puppy eyes that reminded her of Humphrey's mooncalf look.

Obviously she needed someone more independent, someone who'd let her be herself, someone who'd abide her moods and quirks without feeling responsible for them all the time… someone who'd want to make her happy, but wouldn't bore her with aiming for constant harmony… someone who'd respect her without idolising her… someone who'd challenge her.

Someone like Richard…

But was she what he needed?

Was she making him happy?

And would they be able to make things last?

Although everything was going well, she was in a thoughtful mood. Sometimes, he seemed so withdrawn… Looking out of the window and taking in the scenery, she let the past few weeks pass by in review.

The trip to Paris had been lots of fun, and although Richard had felt somewhat uncomfortable at first, he had enjoyed their stay with Alain and Isabelle. Of course, the fact that Alain was a historian had made it so much easier – this had paved the way for getting into a conversation without too many difficulties. The first few hours had been a bit strained as Richard had clearly felt self-conscious and nervous, but Isabelle and Alain had done everything to make him feel more comfortable, and eventually, Richard had relaxed and felt at ease with her friends – as much as he was able to feel at ease with people he had never met before!

While laying out the table for dinner on the second evening, Isabelle had remarked to Camille that Richard was different from what she had expected. "Mind you, he is very correct and quite obsessed with details, and at first I thought he's quite stuffy, but then he made that deadpan remark and I saw a twinkle in his eyes – and I realised he's got a sense of humour, it's just that he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve." She had smiled and added "He's got to have a sense of humour, otherwise he wouldn't be together with you… simply because he couldn't stand your constant teasing…"

Camille had punched her friend, and they had laughed together. Richard had passed them a sideways glance as he was discussing the recent political developments on both sides of the channel with Alain, and Camille had given him a reassuring smile – since she and Isabelle had spoken French, he had obviously felt a little insecure. The two men had been sitting on the couch, and although Richard's French had become a little better lately, he still was at a loss when people spoke fast and used colloquial expressions and abbreviations he wasn't familiar with. He had understood that the two women had been talking about him, though, and that had made him slightly uncomfortable. He had not asked to find out what they had said, but Camille had told him later on that Isabelle had mentioned he had a good sense of humour, and that had obviously flattered him.

She had not told him about another observation that Isabelle had made – simply because she had felt it was a rather private issue and he wouldn't appreciate having his character and behaviour patterns dis-sected by someone whom he just only had met…

During a longer walk – while Richard had described the investigations of a Saint Marie case to Alain and explained how he had had to resort to homespun experiments to find proof for a theory he had developed – Isabelle had said in a thoughtful voice "You know, Camille, you told me that Richard had a hard time trusting people and that he might be a bit stand-offish towards us because of that. Mind you, he might be a little stuffy sometimes, but it seems he trusts people enough to let them in to a certain extent. A minimal extent, admittedly, but he doesn't shut everyone out completely – that is what people who have learnt to mistrust literally everyone would do. He might have his pompous façade, but if you try hard enough, you can get in – as you did. And as a result, he's obviously trying to trust Alain and me, too – to a certain extent, as I said. He's a very kind man – but I can see that it will be no cakewalk with him… he's just as pigheaded as you are, and there'll be conflicts – I know you've sorted out the basics, otherwise you wouldn't be together now… But let me tell you that relationships can be hard work, and you've got to be prepared for that… I imagine he's been hurt at some point, and you may have to overcome obstacles in your relationship that you don't see coming right now… I hope you'll both be strong enough to deal with them…"

Camille had pondered this friendly advice, and she knew that Isabelle was right… They had already had a few clashes, there had been their misunderstanding right after Christmas, and every once in a while, they had had to make compromises or simply had had to agree to disagree… Would they – would she - have the patience and perseverance to make things work in the long run?

Despite her flirtatious nature and her apparently easy-going attitude, Camille didn't have a great record when it came to relationships. She had no problems getting to know men, but she had her own ideas about how things should develop, and freedom had always been important to her. She had never lived with a man, and she had no real long-term experience, either – her longest relationship had lasted for two years, and during the second year she had mostly been trying to come up with a way of ditching the guy without hurting him too much… And she knew that Richard had never had a serious relationship to speak of, either – even less so than herself. She couldn't help but wonder whether or not their relationship had a chance… everything was going smoothly now, but would it stay this way? Or rather, would the good outweigh the bad? Could their respective cultural backgrounds be a dividing element in the end?

Her parents had loved each other, too… initially. They had come from different cultures, and in the long run, it hadn't worked out, so they had split up – would the same thing happen to her and Richard?

She sighed. There was no real reason to be worried at this point – everything was going well, and she felt they were on a good way, but was it real, and would it stay this way?

Her thoughts wandered back to the trip to Paris. There had been a few awkward moments in between when Richard had been self-conscious – but overall, they had had a brilliant time. It had been fun to show him some of her favourite places and tell him about her various memories. Some had been good, some not so good – but she was able to accept the not so good ones as part of her personal history… and actually, some of the memories of experiences she had made back then only had come back while she was telling him about something. When she had mentioned that, he had given her a thoughtful smile and said "Good for you… people say it's bad to have a memory like a sieve, but the older I get the more I think it's sometimes a lot better than having a memory like a bag – you know, where everything just piles up and you can never let go of things, but keep thinking about them and turning them over and over again…"

She had enjoyed watching him as he had got acquainted to her old stomping grounds – it had been interesting to see him realising that she, too, had been young and foolish, that she had made hurtful experiences, that not everything in her life had been easy and smooth… in theory, he had known that, but he had always been blinded by her demonstratively determined and resolute attitude towards things.

As a result, he had become a little more talkative about his own past – and although he hadn't really made any earth-shattering revelations so far, Camille had got some new insights and understood him better. Sometimes, he could be very prosaic, but he had also shared a few more emotional memories with her, and that had shown her new facettes that she hadn't yet been aware of.

She felt almost ashamed now when she thought of how she had acted towards him during the first year of their cooperation, but then again – he had been so stuffy and pompous, it had been impossible to get through to him. He had almost constantly been on his guard. She had only got a glimpse of his real personality on very few occasions… and those, of course, had been the basis for her more affectionate feelings for him… Now that he let her in much more deeply and frequently, she realised how blind she had been for so many of his qualities.

When she had tried to couch her feelings in terms, he had seemed slightly embarrassed and said somewhat offishly "Well, I didn't really want you to know too much… so it wasn't really your fault, but more my strategy of trying not to reveal a lot about myself. Although I claimed I was an 'open book' and had nothing to hide… The thing is: People are fickle – and they might use their knowledge about your weaknesses against you when you least expect it – at least that's been the experience I've made. With my background, Camille, you realise that trust is something you should save for very few people…"

Camille had given him a reproachful look, and he had hastened to add "I don't mean you, Dwayne or Fidel were fickle. Of course, you weren't. And I did trust all of you… after a while. I just was cautious. You know, I've been the fool in the corner way too often – so I learnt to hide myself behind a façade and come up with a 'persona', if you know what I mean. It's a habit that became second nature. I'm sure you have already figured that out, haven't you?"

That all had gone into the same vein like Isabell's remark, and Camille had been touched by his honesty on one hand, but she had also been a bit worried…

Would they be able to leave all this behind? Would their bond be strong enough to overcome difficulties and problems? Could they master the challenge that their different backgrounds presented? Every once in a while, she had noticed how he had got impatient with her because she didn't understand references to things he had grown up with – but then again, how was she supposed to know about all these little details? Sure, maybe she was over-exaggerating the differences. In Paris, she had realised how 'French' she actually was in many respects… maybe that had made him think, too?

Once he had been back in her life by coincidence, she had been so focused on making him jump over his shadow and getting together with him… on making a commitment, on having him make the same commitment… And now that the novelty was about to wear off, things calmed down and their relationship was established and got into some sort of routine – what would happen now? Would they get bored with each other? Would their love last, or would it get stifled by routine?

Admittedly, Richard had done quite a few surprising things since they had got together… The decorations in his living room when he had invited her for Valentine's Day, the food he had cooked, the jewelry he had given her… And then the trip to his parents, plus the fact that he had agreed to coming to Paris with her, despite his initial doubts… all these things weren't indicating that there was too much routine in their relationship. And while there was some sort of routine in how they saw each other on Wednesdays and weekends and then also in how they spent their weekends going for runs or swimming or sightseeing – there wasn't really anything boring about all that. Quite the contrary, this rhythm gave her security and stability, and yet there was a nagging little voice, wondering if that all was enough in the long run…

Things in the bedroom were more than just satisfying – yes, of course, by now she knew what he liked, and they were more familiar with each other's reactions, but that didn't mean it was boring. It clearly wasn't, no. It was warm, tender and fulfilling, and she felt truly cherished by him. Sometimes, they just cuddled and then fell asleep without 'further action', and that was okay with her, too – sometimes it was enough to just feel loved and 'appreciated'. She didn't feel that it was necessary or possible – or even desirable – to have wild sex every time they got together. Sometimes, they just had things going on in their daily lives that made them feel wary or pre-occupied, and then they didn't feel much like ravishing each other. Then it was just great to have one another's company, chat a little about this and that, have a glass of wine together and go through everyday routines. That wasn't dull at all – Camille actually found it strangely comforting on days when her mind was busy with all sorts of things.

Their conversations were always enlightening in one way or another, but it also was fun just to be silly with him and pitch tales about 'what would happen if' – he was very imaginative and could come up with the weirdest stories…

He had admitted once that he had loved reading all sorts of 'bizarre' books as a child and had had a vivid imagination – somehow, though, he had buried that side of himself as he had grown up and only allowed it to come out of the closet when he was investigating crimes… Now that he had someone to share his tales with, this side had surfaced again…

No, it never was boring with him, and even when they were having tiffs and shouting at one another… they always reconciled and respected each other's opinions.

She had no reason for her lingering doubts, but that didn't make them any less real for her. She'd have to stop overthinking – it was pointless, anyway.

She noticed the bus was approaching her neighbourhood, and she would have to get off in a minute, so she got up and made her way to the exit.

Richard checked the time on his wristwatch and realised with relief that he could call it quits in another half hour. It was Tuesday, and for some reason he had been feeling slightly uneasy and fidgety all day long. It was a good thing that the days were getting longer again… that way, he could go for walks or runs after work. He was keen on getting out of the office - he felt that he needed some distraction today. Work had been fairly demanding lately, and he had found his thoughts wander off every once in a while when he was actually busy doing something completely unrelated to work. He had caught himself being unfocused a couple of times, even when he had been with Camille, and it had alarmed him – he didn't want to let work get into the way of their relationship, but of course, work was important… and how could you stop your thoughts from lingering, anyway?

When he had got home and changed into his running gear, he had set off in direction of the park. He moved automatically – and although he noticed the fresh air, the budding flowers, the bunnies on the lawn and the sunshine, he was deeply lost in thought. He needed to clear his mind – there was something that had been bothering him recently, and running always helped him to focus and get down to the bottom of a problem.

It had been a couple of weeks since they had returned from Paris, and everything had gone well since then. Camille had been busy with her training, but they were seeing each other regularly, they talked frequently on the phone, they e-mailed and texted, and he was happy with how things had developed. The stay at Paris, the insights he had got there, the fun they had had… he felt that this had strengthened their bond.

Still, he had the impression that Camille had been a bit absent-minded, almost subdued lately. He wondered if it had to do with the training course – although she had mentioned everything was going well there at the moment – or if it was because she was worried about her next assignment – although she had no reason to worry, her experiences had been very positive so far, and she had received excellent reports both from Islington and Hammersmith…

Was she nervous because more than half of the course was finished, getting jittery because of the final exams? No, they were still too far away, and she'd serve at two more stations before the finals started… No, it was not like her to get upset at this point.

Or maybe it was something entirely different…

Maybe she was homesick? No, she had just mentioned the other day that she really liked spring in the UK – the different seasons were a lovely change from the Caribbean climate, as she had pointed out. And she spoke to Catherine on a regular basis – either via Skype or on the phone (difficult because of the time difference) or via e-mail.

As he watched two bunnies chasing each other on the lawn, another thought came up… was it his fault? Was she getting bored with him? Was this relationship getting stalled already? Was the routine they had fallen into killing the excitement?

Not for him – no. They had been together for less than half a year – but this clearly was a record for him. Well, considering that his basis point was zero, it wasn't hard to top this. But seriously, he had never felt so comfortable around someone else, and he cherished every moment with her. Admittedly, they had had misunderstandings and difficulties here and there, and naturally, they still bickered, and every once in a while, she had been very temperamental, and he had lost patience, and they had ended up in a shouting match – resembling the ones they had had on Saint Marie all those years ago. But they had always reconciled and cleared up their misunderstandings and issues.

He had opened up a bit more about his past – was she embarrassed by that, maybe? Was she comparing him to previous boyfriends? He knew there weren't too many, but still… his self-esteem wasn't too great when it came to the relationship department, and since he had zero experience himself, he had no idea whether or not you drew parallels or made comparisons at all… Maybe some people did and others didn't – but how was he supposed to know which side Camille was on in that respect?

As far as he was concerned, the trip to Paris had been a success – and she, too, had said that it had been fun. She had been happy that he had enjoyed the trip – she wouldn't have said it if she hadn't meant it.

The physical side of their relationship still was absolutely amazing – and while he had often heard that things in the bedroom would dull down after a while, he didn't feel that happening at all. Sure, they didn't spend entire days in bed, and their love play wasn't full of acrobatic stunts and kamasutra-like contortions, but there was enough variety, and she had taught him a few tricks that had added more spice to their activities… They kept discovering new things together, too, and so far, he hadn't got the impression that she was bored, either – he surely wasn't. No, quite the opposite – they were more in tune with one another now, and there was a certain sense of accordance that made their lovemaking more intense, more harmonious… more blissful. It had become better and better the more comfortable they had got with one another…

He generally felt more 'at home' in his own skin since he had taken up exercising on a regular basis, and she had taken away the last little doubt about his physical appearance – when he was with her, he felt attractive, loved and appreciated – and that was more than he had ever experienced before. She had clearly given him more self-confidence in that department… She marvelled at the contrast between his light skin and her caramel coloured complexion, she let her hands slide over his thighs and admired how muscular they were, she ruffled his hair and said how much she loved its soft, fluffy structure – when he had always felt he was pale as death (or as red as beetroot, when he was embarrassed!), his thighs weren't remarkable, let alone 'athletic', and his hair was too fine, thin and flimsy. And she kept saying that it was perfect that he wasn't a whole lot taller than her – that way she could at least kiss him more easily… he had always considered himself being too short, but she insisted on him being the perfect height. She wouldn't say this if she didn't mean it – or at least if she didn't see him this way. He knew she wouldn't lie or sham… and he loved her for saying all these things… and meaning them.

He never tired of their conversations – they were interesting, thought-provoking and engaging – most of the time. Sometimes they were admittedly silly and trivial – but he always enjoyed their communication. They had developed some sort of secret code – actually, he realised now that they had already had a secret code on Saint Marie… and it had been developed further since they had got together here in the UK.

So, what could it be?

He just couldn't get his head around what was going on. He wasn't doubting their relationship – but he was wondering if maybe she was…

The sound of his feet hitting the ground in a steady rhythm was reassuring and comforting somehow, and for a few minutes he focused on the consistent thumping…

In the distance, he saw one of the parkgates… he noticed a bus passing the fence… And suddenly, he knew what he had to do. He headed for a bench, took out his phone and checked the time. Then he checked how much cash he had on him – he usually carried a small wallet for emergencies… You never knew, you might get lost and end up too tired for running home, or you might trip over a branch and hurt yourself… then it was vital to have at least some cash on you so you had enough for the next bus or even a cab to take you home…

When he had counted the money in his wallet, he put it back into his windbreaker jacket and moved in direction of the gate in front of him…

Camille had showered and put on dark tracksuit pants and a light blue fleeceshirt. Spring might be there, but it had been chilly in the evenings, so she still wore warm and comfy clothes when she stayed at home.

She looked into her fridge and tried to decide what she'd want for dinner. She had had a sandwich for lunch, so she wanted to have something warm now. For a moment, she wished she could have some of her mother's chicken soup, but that was out of the question for obvious reasons. She realised that this sentiment had only come up because of her previous glumness…

Although she had managed to get out of the dumps, there still was some underlying dejection influencing her mood, and she just couldn't shake it off.

Well, since chicken soup was not going to happen, it had to be pasta. She wasn't an emotional eater, but when she felt low and couldn't have chicken soup, she always went for carbs.

She took out all the necessary ingredients and began to chop the tomatoes when she heard the doorbell ring.

Now, that would most likely be her eccentric and sometimes slightly irritating neighbour, she figured. Every once in a while, he came to borrow things from her… Since he was very generous when she needed something, she couldn't really ignore him now, so she put down the knife with a sigh and went to open the door…

Some time later, she snuggled up to Richard, feeling peaceful and content. He held her tight, and with a happy sigh, she let her hand slide over his chest.

"How did you know, Richard?" she asked softly.

"How did I know what?" he asked back.

"That I needed you today…" she whispered. Then, clarifying "I mean, I always need you, but I've been feeling somewhat… off… lately, and I had all sorts of muddled thoughts going around in my head, and nothing seemed to rhyme… I can't even put my finger on what it was, but it was like… it was like I had a bear sitting on my shoulders that I just couldn't get rid of. And today… I had the silliest doubts about you and me and what-not… I can't even say why… they just were there, without a reason, and I couldn't shake them off…"

"Hmmm…" he made. Then he rolled over and looked into her face, intently holding her gaze. "I know what you mean. I've felt something was… weird, and I was wondering… I feared we might… we might kind of drift apart for some reason – not that you've said or done anything… it was just… Blimey, Camille, I hate to say it, but it was a feeling I had, and it got so strong that I couldn't ignore it. So, I just had to come and see you…"

She grinned and said "You had a feeling, mind you… I never thought I'd ever hear you saying that. But I'm glad you came… and if you stay for a little longer, you might even get something to eat. After all that physical exertion from running and… and so on… you have surely deserved a huge plate full of pasta al pomodoro!"

"That sounds fabulous," he responded and pulled her closer. "But I think I'm not completely whacked yet… I might want to exert myself further before having food… unless you're terribly opposed to the idea…"

With a shiver, she felt him guiding her leg around his hips. She noticed his newly awakened arousal, and her voice was throaty when she asked saucily "Want a helping hand?"

Richard took in a hissing breath when he felt her hand coming between them to touch him - good heavens, this was intense… and then all conscious thinking went out of the window as he felt his desire taking over… Camille let out a long keen when he finally came to her… their bodies moved entirely in sync… and finally, they came to a shuddering climax together.

When it was over, they held on to one another, not wanting to let go - and within minutes, they drifted off into dreamland together – their bodies still tangled, his head buried in her neck, and Camille's legs wrapped around his…