Chapter 12

What it boils down to…

It was around midnight. Ah, it really had felt good to lie down in his bed, Richard mused. Although it hadn't been quite what he had planned, he was more than happy with the outcome. Initially, as he had left La Kaz, he had only wanted to sleep.

However, things had developed in an entirely different direction. Funny what an impact cozy towels and crisp new sheets could have… but of course it wasn't the material things that had brought the difference. It was that Camille had given him an unequivocal sign that she cared about him, wanted him to be comfortable, and – most important – that she wanted to share his world.

He turned his head to look at the woman snuggled up to him. Her unruly tight curls tickled him gently, and he was very aware of her soft and silken skin, the scent that surrounded her, and her hand on his chest. She looked so relaxed and innocent as she lay there by his side… He heard her sigh in her sleep, and his heart skipped a beat. He had been so anxious about touching her initially – but the way she had looked at him could not be misunderstood…

That had marked the point of no return – and he had finally, finally found the courage to kiss her. Her reaction had blown him away – he hadn't expected her to be so… excited. Her lips had been soft and pliable under his, they had willingly parted as he got more confident, and she had pressed her body against his. He remembered how she had moaned with delight when he had held her in his arms, then picked her up and carried her to the bed… nothing had counted anymore as their clothing miraculously fell off, and he had caressed and explored her body. The feeling of her skin against his, the touch of her gentle hands and her lips on his body, her enthusiastic reactions to his tenderness – she had made it all so easy for him. He had been nervous as it had been a while for him and he felt he might be a little out of practice… but that was forgotten very quickly as they had fallen into a vortex of passion together.

With so much tension bottled up over an extended period of time, it hadn't lasted as long as Richard would have liked, but fortunately, Camille had been more than ready for him, and a quick release had been what she wanted and needed, too. She had encouraged him with words and actions, her euphoric response to his movements culminated in a series of incoherent cries. In this blissful moment he realised that she was tipping over the edge so he didn't hold back any longer – and as he was calling her name with a gasp, colourful stars seemed to explode and sparkle through his closed eyelids. Never before had it been like that for him.

They had both held on to each other for a while afterwards to come back to earth together, then they had fallen asleep in each other's arms, spent and exhausted. It had been an emotionally taxing week for both of them so now that all had come to a climax this evening, they needed a break together.

Given the fact that his body was still on British time – more or less – he had welcomed the sleep, but then woken up again after a few hours. He thought about the past week and wondered what he had ever agonized about. It had all fallen into place for him now. He sighed contently. All his hopes had not only been fulfilled, but exceeded, the doubts had disappeared in no time.

Camille stirred and lifted her head. "Hey there…" She let her hand slide over his chest. "Are you as happy as I am?" she asked softly. Richard gazed into her eyes - his tender smile was response enough. "What are you thinking about?" was her next question.

His smile widened, and he said "Other than the obvious 'this was amazing, and I hope it will happen again soon', you mean? You don't want to know. It's terribly unromantic!"

Obviously, that only piqued her curiosity, and she insisted on him telling her.

"Right, if you absolutely want to know… I was thinking about Ealing," he said. "Ealing? What's Ealing?" she demanded, confused now.

"Ealing, my love, is a part of London. West London, actually. Ealing Film Studios, you know." "No, I don't, but if you say so, okay… and what's that got to do with you and me?"

"Nothing, really, at least not anymore…" he replied incoherently. Camille clearly was more and more puzzled at his cryptic replies, so he pulled himself together. He explained "They actually offered me a job there. Not at the film studios, mind you. In the police department, obviously."

Camille just stared at him for a moment. Before she could say anything, he elaborated further. "I turned it down. Didn't appeal to me at all." "Richard, are you telling me that you were given a choice and actually chose Saint Marie over London?" she asked. "Well… yes, at least for the next two years." he responded. Camille propped herself up on her elbow and demanded sternly "Now, seriously… Richard Poole, will you please explain yourself in clear words so I understand what's going on!"

He sat up, looked at her and sighed. "Right, I'm making a hash of this, huh… I'm sorry. So, here you go… Before I left for London, the Commissioner told me that HR wanted to talk to me, so I should make an appointment. I had planned to contact them, anyway – I wanted to discuss something with them and make a suggestion. The fact that they wanted me to get in touch, though, didn't bode well – I felt they were about to make a suggestion that I might not like – and I had my own agenda at that time already."

He explained about the series of three month extensions over the past year that had made it so hard for him to settle in more. "You know, it was as if I was constantly on call. If they had wanted to do so, they could have assigned me to any other place, just at a few weeks' notice. It kind of paralysed me, and I did not want that any longer. I could not make plans, neither here nor there – you know I have a house in Croydon, and it's about time I decide what to do with it, and… and there were other things."

He took her hand into his, sighed again and said "I was hoping that you and I… would…ah, you know, I had realised that I was having… um… very strong and rather… erm, unprofessional feelings for you, for a long time already, and I had been beginning to hope that you… well, maybe, returned those feelings. Or would do so, given some time. With those three month arrangements, I could not – I mean, say, we had become closer, and – bang! – the Met decided it was time for me to leave… that was just such an awful prospect. So, I wanted to stay here – but at the same time, if things didn't work out between us… what would I do? I would have been stuck here, seeing you every day and having to live with the disappointment and frustration… I was pretty sure I didn't want to take that risk, either."

Camille smiled tenderly and asked "Silly you… didn't you feel that I have been in love with you for a long time already?" His eyes met hers, and his voice faltered as he responded "Er… obviously not… I was hopeful that you liked me, and maybe something more could come out of it, but really, how was I supposed to know? It might have been wishful thinking, for all I know, and nothing more. I'm not really great at these things. Reading signs and body language, all that. I mean, you're friendly with people in general, and although I felt that you… um… didn't hate me, I couldn't fathom if your affection went beyond that. You know, Camille, women are a mystery to me! They say and do the funniest things, and I'm at a loss with their behaviour at least half of the time." She couldn't help but chuckle about this confession, but didn't go any further into the topic.

"So, you had that appointment with the Met," she reiterated. "What happened? They offered you a job in – what's the name? Ealing? Really, Richard… that sounds slimy. Like eels. But whatever. And you turned it down? What did they offer you instead then? You said something about two years?"

"Right. I told them I didn't want to go to Ealing. It's a nice enough place and all, but no, I didn't want it. I couldn't bear the idea of leaving, no matter how much the climate gets to me. I also thought of the team and how many different DIs have been here already – and what a challenge for a team it is to have to deal with someone new over and over again. I knew that they would transfer some other poor sod to Saint Marie – maybe someone who had turned out to be just as unpopular at their current department as I had been in Croydon, or even worse… you know, we didn't have a stellar start together, but I hope it's not vain to say that – erm – I have adjusted better in the meantime, and we all get along fairly well now and form a great team. It would have felt like I was betraying everyone here if I had accepted a transfer at this point."

The look on her face spoke volumes. He continued "Not to mention that things could have turned very ugly with the Commissioner not wanting to let me go. Tug of war and all that. Very uncomfortable. I'm aware of how he tricked me into staying here, and again, it might sound – ah - vain, but I know that he doesn't want me to go back to the UK. You know, HR was under the impression that I absolutely and under all circumstances wanted to leave Saint Marie, that was why they offered me Ealing. Ealing needs a DI, and I was the first person they offered it to. I think I've rattled them a bit with my continuous complaints, and they were seriously miffed to find out that I didn't want Ealing now that they had moved heaven and earth in order to please me – well, they hadn't, really, the position just happened to open as someone retired, but they made a song and a dance when I turned it down. They didn't realise it was not so much the place anymore, but more the insecurity of the arrangement that bothered me. Seems they never read the last e-mails I wrote them – they were not about wanting to leave but about having more security in the assignment. They thought I'd jump at the chance to leave the Caribbean, but I really didn't want to go through all the pain of trying to find my feet at yet another place again at this point, not to mention that I certainly didn't want to leave the team, and - more importantly - you. I'm not good with change to begin with, but this time, I have really good reasons, not only that I don't want to get used to new routines."

Camille waited patiently for him to come round with his rambling explanation. He realised he was waffling and tried to pull himself together. He stroked her hand and continued: "On that matter – provided that you won't change your mind…" Her curls bobbed as she shook her head vehemently, and he went on "I'm sure being… er… in a relationship will be an adjustment in itself, so it's not that I won't have to adapt to new things. I also think we will have to separate our personal life from our work relationship, but that should all go well – we're both professional enough, I reckon. And as long as we behave in a decent manner and don't do anything outrageously shocking, I don't think it should be a problem… But in any event… well, I wasn't sure how you'd feel about this all, so I settled for a compromise. I thought a clearly set time frame would give us a fair chance, you know, I could perhaps convince you that I'm – um - not such a stuffy moron after all, and if I ever mustered up the courage to ask you out, we could go ahead, spend time together and get to know each other better, and maybe it would work out the way I hoped. Obviously, I didn't imagine that you and I… I mean, it all went faster now than I could ever dare to dream, but well, I'm sure that having time to get adjusted and sort things out and all that is good, isn't it? – So I suggested they'd make the assignment here semi-permanent for two more years - with an option to make it permanent for good after that time or go to another place. No more three month prolongations, but two solid years in one chunk. And well, they agreed. Seemed rather relieved in the end, actually, that they won't have to shuffle things around in a while."

"So, we have two years until a new decision is on the agenda. And then what?"

"Then we'll see. I think that two years gives us enough time to get used to one another, wouldn't you agree?"

She didn't say anything, but he figured her reaction could be taken as an affirmative. "After that, we can make up our minds and find out where we'll wan to go from there. Maybe we'll want to stay, maybe we'll want to start over at another place – who knows? I mean – we don't have to plan our whole life at this point. Let's see what comes our way. And maybe it will be a good idea to take on a new challenge and move on together after two years."

He looked into her face, trying to find reassurance in her eyes. It was a huge step for him to let go of the predictability he had been following most of his life, and she seemed to understand. Her lips curved in a tender smile, she nodded and said "As long as we're together, all will be good."

That was what he needed to hear. He drew her towards him and held her tight - and for a while the conversation stopped… This time, their lovemaking was slow and unhurried – albeit no less passionate than the first time. Richard had never ever imagined it could be so magical. It felt like they were out of this world together, and Camille's happy sighs indicated that she felt the same way. They took their time, and now that the tension was gone, they could really savour being together.

When it was over, Camille whispered "Tell me, Richard – why didn't we do all this months ago already? We have wasted so much time…" "Fear of falling and landing hard, I suppose. But all's well that ends well – although I prefer to see this as the beginning and not the ending!" He kissed her again, and they lay still for a while.

But some time later, Richard's stomach began to growl unromantically, and he realised that he hadn't had any decent food in a while. The same applied to Harry - as they remembered with feelings of guilt. He hadn't showed up so far – maybe he had given up completely? They cut up a mango for him and put it on his dish, then they had a rather belated midnight snack in bed.

"How thoughtful of you to bring cheese and biscuits! And wine! What a feast!" Richard polished off a large piece of cheese and took a sip of red wine to round off the pleasure. Camille clearly was delighted with his praise and smiled smugly. He knew she was particularly pleased that he had liked the French cheese she had chosen… He had a feeling that he'd get to know and learn to appreciate more French food in the future.

As Richard got up and took the plates back to the sink in the twilight, he almost fell over his briefcase – it was sitting somewhere on the kitchen floor where he had dropped it to go and wash his hands. The clasp gave in as it fell over – he had already noticed during the flight that it wasn't quite in top condition anymore – and his "emergency kit" (an extra set of perfectly folded underwear, neatly wrapped in a little plastic bag – after his miserable experiences with the Gods of the Airlines and Luggage Carousels, he had decided that this could be a good idea) had slipped out, along with Alison's package.

He swore under his breath as he hit his toe badly, then picked both the underwear and the package up from the floor. The underwear was placed on the wicker chair (he didn't intend to put it on any time soon), but he turned the package around as he held it in his hands and decided it was about time he'd see what Alison had given him.

Camille apparently wasn't too impressed to find out that he had received a gift from another woman, but he silenced her with kisses (which turned out to be a very effective and pleasant way to quiet her down, he found), then explained that Alison was his cousin and that he had seen her while he had been to London. "And she has promised to send an invitation to her wedding in the summer, so you'll get to know her then," he assured her.

Curiously he opened the gift. As he had half expected, it was a book, but when he saw the cover and the title, he couldn't help but laugh out loud. Camille had never heard him laugh like that and found this reaction to be so extraordinary that she wanted to see what was going on. She tried to snatch the book from him, but without success.

"So, what is it?" she demanded. He sat beside her, opened the thin picture book and started to read aloud to her: "Prince Cinders was not much of a prince. He was small, spotty, scruffy and skinny." They laughed their way through the book, and as he put it on his nightstand afterwards, Richard said – still laughing – "And what it boils down to is that you might be small, spotty, skinny and scruffy, but if you lose your trousers at the right time and in the right place, you can still win the beautiful princess!"

With that, he took her in his arms again and whispered "I have been living by the wrong book all the time, so it seems – I should have given up on suits and smart trousers long ago!" Camille nuzzled his neck and said softly "Never mind other peoples' books. We will write our own book from now on!"

Notes: The book is 'Prince Cinders' by Babette Cole, first published in the late 1980s. Priceless fairy-tale-with-a-difference, and the illustrations are hilarious. If you don't know it, have a look at it! It's also available as an "audio book" on Youtube – someone reads it to you, and you can look at the pictures as well. Takes about 5 minutes only!