Chapter 22 – Memories
When Camille crawled into bed again later in the evening and switched off the light on her nightstand, she smiled happily. She dug her nose into the pillow that still held Richard's scent – as did the sheets and the duvet. Well, it was a heady mix of her and his scent, to be more precise. All her pointless doubts and weird feelings had disappeared, and she felt reassured and safe.
He had left her again after their very late dinner, wearing his running gear. He had showered, and she had given him a T-shirt that he had left in her flat a while ago when he had stayed overnight – she had washed it and put it into her closet – and 'forgotten' to return it!
Before he had left, they had stood locked in a tight embrace for several minutes and kissed tenderly, and when he had arrived at home – they had called a cab -, he had rang her to let her know that he had made it. They both had felt the need to 'be close' – and this evening somehow had added a new dimension to their relationship.
She had gone to bed straight after his phonecall. His unexpected visit had turned everything around… When she had opened the door and seen him in front of her, she had been flabbergasted. She had let him in, and for a moment, neither of them had spoken. Then he had taken her in his arms and whispered "I hope my visit's not ill-timed. It's just… I've been out running, and suddenly I felt I just had to come and see you."
She hadn't said anything in response, but put her arms around his neck and kissed him – gently and lightly at first, but that had changed quickly as they both had been overcome by a sudden, urgent need for closeness and intimacy, and very soon, they had found themselves in her bedroom… Her bed wasn't very comfortable for two when it came to sleeping, but it was big enough for what they were up to at this point…
Camille still was stunned by what had happened. Never before had he come to her place without making sure beforehand that it was convenient for her. Spontaneous visits were absolutely not his kind of thing. He had explained, though, that he had felt a sudden longing for her, that he had wanted to make sure she knew how much she meant to him… Those were words she had never expected him to say to her, and they had come out sincerely, without being 'prompted'. He wasn't the type who'd come up with sweet nothings or big words, and it still wasn't easy for him to put his emotions into words sometimes – so this was definitely amazing.
And he had come exactly at the right time. She had been honest when she had said to him that she had felt 'off' for no particular reason… It had been a revelation to hear that he had felt something wasn't quite right and that he had wanted to be near her – if only to be reassured that all was well.
Determinedly, she boxed her pillow into shape and turned over to sleep… She no longer doubted that things would work out just fine. The fact that Richard had sensed she was in a somewhat thoughtful mood and entertaining (silly) doubts spoke volumes – he was so much more perceptive than she had realised. At least when it came to her feelings… He still could be fairly insensitive towards others – because they weren't important to him. But he had an antenna for her emotional state, obviously… and tonight, he had opened up about a few things she had been wondering about.
He had actually been unusually talkative, as if he had wanted to get something off his chest… Although he had become so much better at sharing his thoughts, they had left some topics untouched so far, and she realised now that it had been bugging her for a while already… she hadn't quite known what it was, but now she could see it clearly.
"You know, I hadn't wanted to make the same mistake I made when… when your friend was killed…" he had said, almost sounding a little helpless – they had prepared dinner together, and he had helped her chopping the tomatoes. She had just looked at him, a big question mark on her face, and he had tried to explain "You know, when Aimée died and we were investigating, I wasn't sure what to say and… and how to approach you…"
She nodded, encouraging him to say more, and he added "Several times, I debated with myself whether or not I should call you to say that I was thinking of you and that I hoped you'd… you'd feel… more like yourself again soon… but it all sounded wrong to me, and clumsy, and… oh, you know how I came up with telling you about the dog I lost when you sat on the beach, but of course, that wasn't appropriate at all! I thought you might think I was bothersome and… and obtrusive. So, I never said more… I didn't want to be mawkish and sentimental… and maybe I would have made things worse for you… although I wanted you to know that… that my heart went out to you. I was too afraid, though… And I know it was wrong that I kept quiet, and I didn't want to make that mistake again. I mean, I felt something was going on and you've been feeling a little weird lately, and I was wondering where we were going, and while I was out running, I realised you might be wondering the same thing. So, when I realised this, I wanted to be with you – so… that's how I ended up here. Your neighbour was just leaving the house, so he let me in, and well…"
She had been surprised by his words – she hadn't had any idea about how hard he had struggled to show his compassion after Aimées death. She had been aware of his awkward attempts to show his concern, and initially, she had found them embarrassing and cringy, but then she had realised that he just didn't know how to convey his sentiments. But she hadn't known that he had spent so much time on thinking about how he could show her that he cared – without giving himself away. He had confessed that he had already felt very attracted to her at that point, but couldn't name his emotions – or didn't want to do it, as he had admitted with a crooked smile.
"You know, Camille, so many people seem to think that being in love is the most wonderful feeling in the world. For me, though, it wasn't. At least not at that point in my life. You know me – I want things to be in order, I want a certain routine – and on Saint Marie I was even more concerned with all that because I was thrown into a world I didn't know and I just couldn't figure out how to deal with it. Falling in love wasn't on the agenda for me – it scared me to have 'feelings', and you drove me batty, anyway – I had never met anybody like you who had got so completely under my skin. I found that disconcerting. And I couldn't admit to myself that you were important to me – although, of course, you were."
And he had taken out the cutlery to lay out the table, continuing matter-of-factly "I think it dawned on me that you were more than just my DS when you showed up at your mother's bar and mistook me for your Erzulie date for a moment. I can't even begin to describe how confusing that was – and the look on your face seemed to indicate that you… oh well… but of course, it couldn't be, and I was sure I had been mistaken once again in interpreting your words and actions… plus, if I hadn't, it would mean something I couldn't handle, so it was better just to ignore it…"
She had turned around, the full plates in her hands, and looked at him in amazement. "I had no idea…" she had replied.
"Well, neither had I…" was his dry response. "Whatever it was, it scared me out of my wits, and so… Oh well. It's history now. I – I just thought you should know… And I didn't want to make a mistake again by… by not 'telling it like it is', you know… how I didn't know how to react when we talked in the night of the hurricane when you said you liked me when I was 'human', how I didn't do anything when I got notice that my assignment would end, how we misunderstood each other after Christmas… all those times when I basically either stuck my head into the sand or did the wrong thing although I meant well… "
Camille lay in her bed, cuddling into her pillow and recalling his voice when he had told her all this… it had been thick with emotion, although he had tried to play things down. And then he had said "And I know I haven't said it before, but honestly, Camille – after you had kissed me farewell that day on Saint Marie, nothing… nothing has ever been the same any more in my life. I know it sounds pathetic and turgid and all that, but although I tried to ignore it, it did change things for me. I was upset because I couldn't forget you, but well… that's the way it was. I don't want to lose you again just because… oh, you know…"
She remembered how angry she had been when he had left Saint Marie, how the memory of him had come back to haunt her all the time, how hard she had tried to forget him… But it had been like he had cast a spell on her – despite all his idiosyncrasies, his stuffy manners, his reticence, his awkwardness, his occasional rudeness. He hadn't been like anybody she had met before, and she hadn't had any idea why she would have fallen for him – but it had happened, and she had been unable to get him off her mind.
Now she knew him better – and it was strange how he was still the same person in so many ways, yet he was different… and she felt cold when she thought of how she might never have got to know him like this and perhaps would always have misjudged him simply because she hadn't known him so well…
Whatever, she was thankful that he had made an effort to see her tonight. It had put her mind to rest, and the uneasy feelings she had entertained over the past few days had disappeared. She had worried for nothing…
A couple of weeks later she had finally found the time to sit down and look through her memory box. It was still sitting on the couch table when Richard came to see her after work.
"What's that?" he asked as he plopped on the couch after dinner. "What?" Camille asked back, realising then that he pointed at the sturdy little case on the table.
"Oh, that's my memory box," she explained, sitting next to him and taking a sip of wine. She could see that he had no idea what it was, so she put down her glass and pulled up the box. She put it on the couch between them and opened the lid.
"Look, it's a collection of things that I gathered over the years. Each item represents a particular memory or a phase in my life… I cannot possibly keep every drawing I've made or every seashell I've picked up in my life, so I'm only keeping 'samples' or 'representatives', if you know what I mean…"
"Oh, you mean it's a treasure trunk? I had something like that as a child… but then sort of gave up on it once I was a teenager… " He understood better now.
"Yes, I know – a lot of people give up on memory boxes once they grow up. So, maybe that means I've never grown up?"
He snorted and said "Could be… actually, that would explain a lot of things…"
She rolled her eyes at him, then she continued "Well, my memory box gets revised once a year – usually around Christmas time, but somehow I didn't manage to look through it last Christmas… I think I was pre-occupied with other things…"
She smiled now, thinking of how they had spent the holidays last year. It was hard to believe that half a year had passed since then…
"Here, that's one of the flowers you made for me for Valentine's weekend…" she said, and then she took out a perfectly shaped round pebble stone, explaining "This is from the seaside when I was in Normandy last year, in my mother's home town…" The next item she held up was a particularly shaped seashell.
"Oh, I know this," he said with an incredulous undertone. "That is, I think I know it…"
She nodded and said "I would guess so… I found this on your veranda table on the day after you left, next to the little lantern… I had gone for a walk, and although I hadn't intended to go there, I ended up at your house somehow, and there was this seashell… so I took it with me… I think I brought it in originally, so I just took it back… and it's been sitting in here all the time… along with this tin I found in the office… we had a closer look at your desk just before Humphrey came and cleared it out thoroughly, and this was in the bottom drawer, hidden behind a puncher, I think…"
"Oh, my secret extra-tin for jelly beans," he exclaimed. "I had hidden it so well that I had completely forgotten about it. You didn't happen to bring the jelly beans, too?"
She passed him an amused sideways glance and replied "Believe it or not, Dwayne ate them all. Well, Fidel and I helped, but I'm sure that Dwayne ate more than three quarters of them. We took them to my mother's and demolished them… in loving memory of you, of course!"
He looked a little disappointed, and she laughed. "Come on, they wouldn't be good any more now, would they – and if they were, I'd be really worried!"
"What's that?" he asked curiously, pointing at a paper napkin with a logo that looked somewhat familiar. He realised that it was the logo of the seafood restaurant by the beach. He had only been there once, but the logo had been remarkable so he had remembered it.
Camille turned it around and showed him a drawing – a caricature, apparently. The face of the portrayed person looked slightly familiar, but Richard couldn't figure out who it was.
"Aimée drew this when we went out for seafood shortly before she was killed… it's a portrait of her manager – we have met him when… when we investigated her murder…" Her voice sounded a little unsteady now, but after a second she had composed herself again, and with a gentle smile, she put the napkin back into the box.
"And this," - she took out a little box, opened it and showed him Humphrey's compass ring – "was my farewell gift from Humphrey, your successor…"
"A ring - seriously?" Richard sounded slightly bemused, and she had the feeling that he didn't approve of this gift at all. She couldn't really blame him, it was an odd present, indeed. Of course, she knew what Humphrey had tried to express with it… Suddenly she realised that she had never said much about Humphrey and their friendship, so she figured this was a good moment to do so. It was time to put her cards on the table, she decided…
"You know, I'm not sure if this one will stay in my memory box, but for the moment, it's here, and since I can't quite make up my mind, it might stay."
She handed Richard the ring so he could have a closer look at it. "It's a compass, as you see," she explained (superfluously, as he obviously thought… she could see it in his face!). A little irritated now, she said "Oh well, I guess you have figured that out already… You can get this sort of ring as a watch as well, but obviously Humphrey thought a compass was more suitable in this specific situation…"
She noticed Richard's raised eyebrows and knew that this conversation could become a bit awkward – but well, they'd have to talk some time, anyway, so why not now?
She said "Well, Humphrey didn't want me to leave, and initially, he tried to withhold his consent for my transfer. I think in the end he realised that I'd leave anyway – if not then, I'd just find another way and leave later – and so he ended up giving his consent. But I think with this ring, he wanted to appeal to me to come back to Saint Marie – it's supposed to show me the way, you know."
Richard felt jealousy creeping up. What had Humphrey been to her? And what had she been to Humphrey? They had never touched this subject – was that a sign that Humphrey was not important enough to be mentioned, or was it rather that he was too important?
Camille had only occasionally mentioned what work had been like after he had left – she had said that it hadn't been the same, and she had pointed out that working with Humphrey had been easier in some ways than working with him, but more difficult in others. And he had given her a ring as a farewell gift – wasn't that a bit inappropriate? Wasn't that impudent? Wasn't that plain outrageous?
Suddenly, he wanted to know more. He cleared his throat and remarked "That's a bit presumptuous, isn't it? After all, Saint Marie is your home, and you'll always find your way, wouldn't you? You don't really need a compass to show you the way, and I'm sure you are aware of being always welcome there… So…"
He didn't finish his sentence. Camille sensed that he was puzzled, curious and slightly alarmed. He tried to appear unfazed, but she definitely knew him well enough by now. She sighed and put the ring back into its box, closing it and putting it back into the mix of items she had collected. Then she took the lid and closed the memory box. For a moment, she looked down on the case, then she grabbed it by its cord handles and placed it on the floor next to the couch.
"Yes, I know," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looking into Richard's eyes. "It does seem weird. If you need to know, I wore it for exactly the time it takes for the ferry from Saint Marie to get to Guadeloupe, so it was under an hour. It went back into its box when I had sat down in the cab that took me to the airport. And while Humphrey's idea might have been that it'll show me the way back, I looked at it and thought it will show me the right way into my future – if I ever needed advice, I mean. I don't think that's an issue, though, so it can remain where it is – for now, I suppose…"
Richard took a sip of his wine. There were a million things he wanted to know, but he just took a deep breath and waited. Over the two years he had worked with Camille he had learnt to rein in his temper – it was pointless to blow up on her, she'd just get mulish or blow up on him in response, and neither would be very helpful. It was hard to remain level-headed and cool when jealousy and a feeling of unease were his prevailing sentiments, but he managed to contain himself.
Camille was a little surprised about his silence. However, she took it for what it was – an invitation to clarify what had happened and explain herself – and began to talk…
She told him about the team's first encounter with Humphrey, how she had initially felt relieved because she wasn't responsible for the station any more, and how she had initially found working with him easy – until she had noticed how scatterbrained and sometimes almost neglectful he could be. She emphasised his friendly manners and mentioned how Humphrey had tried to get to know the island, how keen he was on experiencing the culture and the traditions.
Richard pulled a wry face – the more she said, the more he realised how big the contrast between Humphrey and him must have been, and he felt inadequate all over again when she pointed out how eager Humphrey had been to explore his new domicile. While he had seen his transfer to Saint Marie as some sort of banishment – at least during the first year of his assignment – Humphrey had embraced the change…
Well, that was maybe not much of a surprise, given the fact that he had actively looked out for a transfer while Richard had been transplanted to Saint Marie on a whim and then got tricked into having to stay due to the Commissioner's policy.
"You know, Richard," he heard Camille saying then, "it seemed easy to work with him, and we did become friends quickly. But I also realised that what could count as an asset can be a drawback in another context. While Humphrey was apparently easy-going, he was constantly craving other people's attention… not in a loud, bothersome way, but in a good-natured, albeit… somewhat… manipulative way – for lack of a better word. He's genuinely nice… but here's the problem: He went out of his way to please everyone, and in return, he expected that people would be equally nice and please him by spending time with him. He desperately wanted to be liked. He was like… like the new kid in town who wanted to fit in so everyone would play with him. Over the first year, we – the team - spent so much time together even after work because Humphrey made all of us feel guilty for wanting to do things without him, you know…"
Richard raised his eyebrows, and Camille continued in a slightly sarcastic way "Yes, I know… why would our Detective Inspector want to spend time with us?"
A little more softly, she added "It was so different from your behaviour, and while it was fun at first, it turned into a millstone around my neck eventually. For the longest time, it didn't bother me much, though – you know that I like to go out to places and spend time with friends, and the Caribbean climate encourages that… Over here, it's cold much of the time, and so life doesn't happen on the streets, patios or decks, it happens more in clubs, pubs or restaurants – inside, I mean. Humphrey liked the Caribbean way of life, and I enjoyed showing him around – more so because you had never seemed to bother, and it was a welcome change to have someone being ready to explore – as opposed to getting brushed off and rebuffed most of the time…"
She noticed the remorseful look on his face and said "No worries, Richard, I understand you better now… and I'm trying to describe my feelings from back then, it's not how I feel now. You know already that I had been hurt by the way you had just got up and left, so-to-speak, and by how you never gave us a chance, and on that background, it was a reassuring experience to have someone actually taking an interest in the island and the people."
She went on to tell him about the sudden, unexpected encounter with her father and Humphrey's reaction – and how it had helped her to put things into perspective and understand her mother a little better.
And then she finally came to the point of Fidel's warning that Humphrey thought he had fallen in love with her. Richard's eyes got wider as she told him how she suddenly had started to see his behaviour in a different light and how she had realised that she couldn't continue working with him…