To say Richard was having trouble letting go was a bit of an understatement. Bad enough that he had to put all his stuff away into storage and clear out his desk so that DI Goodman could have a proper handover (not to mention a fair chance of stepping into his shoes) but god the man was disorganized.

Richard spent a lot of time to-ing and fro-ing from Government House, which made it a little less disturbing to him, but nevertheless, he felt like he was being forgotten.

Camille had great fun teasing him about it, in the early days at least, but when his days travelling over to Guadeloupe for briefings, and arriving late at La Kaz started impinging on her new-found state of bliss, suddenly it was not as fun anymore.

Catherine regarded her daughter as she laughed and joked with the team, but every so often would lean back as the next ferry arrived from Guadeloupe where Richard had gone for yet another meeting.

With no sign of Richard ambling along the quay, Catherine would note how her face would fall, and she brought her chair back to the table where the team – her new team – would be laughing and joking.

Catherine watched her as she rose to go grab a new round of beers from the bar, following her.

"So the reality is not quite the same as the fantasy, chére?"

Camille looked up sharply, but her features softened when she saw her mother looking at her wistfully.

"I know he has a lot of work to do, and he wants to do a really good job,but…"

"But you thought it would be just a lot of bed-time and not much else?"

" Maman!"

Catherine smiled but said nothing.

The horn from the ferry announced the last arrival, and Camille couldn't help herself as she watched. It did not go unnoticed to Catherine when Camille spied Richard, but her joy turned to confusion as he headed down the road towards the house and not along the beach to the bar.

Waving goodbye to her mother, as Catherine pressed a couple of bowls of food for Camille to take home with her, she ran back towards the house, but stopped dead when she got there – all the lights were off. She was almost on the point of searching around the place when she noticed the lamp going on in the attic room where Lucy resided.

Walking quietly into the house, Camille set the bowls down and padded up to the attic – he was sat there quietly which an opened bottle of scotch on the table, and a glass in his hand. A chill ran through her.

"Richard?"

He didn't turn around… now she felt really scared. She walked round to face him and to her horror he sat with tears streaming down his face.

"Oh My god, Richard – what's happened," she cried reaching to put her arms around him. He didn't react – he didn't push her away which she half expected. She released him, crouching down beside him, and gently removing the glass from his hand.

He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time, seeming surprised to see her there, and equally surprised to find himself wiping tears away.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, "I didn't mean to drag you away…. I mean go back to the bar if you like."

"Richard – I'm not leaving you, please tell me what's happened."

"I got a message, just as I was leaving," he started. "A recruit I mentored when I had just joined CID. She was amazing."

Camille didn't know how to react, so opted to say nothing but just sat by him stroking his arm.

"She was diagnosed with this condition, it totally killed her immune system. She was on medication since she was a teen but she was set on joining the force. She went to Uni, she worked hard on her fitness and eventually she was accepted into the Met – she always said that when she passed out from Hendon, it was the proudest day of her life.

"We stayed in touch after she went to join another force so that she could marry a colleague but then you know I went to Croydon, and then here…."

His voice trailed off as his eyes welled up again.

"The medication she'd taken…I guess there was always a risk that it would leave her susceptible to liver cancer. She …. Was … she was just 30…"

He couldn't go on and all Camille could do was hold him, until he slowly brought his hands up to hers.

He carried on: "She knew.. I think she knew that this was a likely outcome, and a few months ago she casually dropped me a line wanting to know if I'd sponsor her for something she called a bucket list? A whole load of wild things she wanted to do – swim with great white sharks, parachute jump, stuff for charity.

"I'd sponsor her of course – but never realized that she knew her time was limited. Eventually the requests stopped and then her mother called today – to tell me that she'd died. It was like a kick in the gut. I just couldn't face everyone tonight."

"Of course," she soothed, kissing him softly on the forehead. They sat in silence for a while before she got up.

"Come to bed," she whispered, kissing the top of his head before letting go of his hand and heading downstairs. He sat where he was for a few moments, before taking one last look through Lucy, training her in on a bright star.

"Sleep tight," he whispered as he headed down, smiling as he clambered into bed beside Camille who was clad in his pajama jacket. She snuggled into him.

"Thanks for listening," he murmured kissing her neck.

"It's what I'm here for," she whispered back, turning to look at him and realizing with an ache how much she would miss him when he was gone. She kissed him and snuggled closer, as they fell asleep together.