Chapter Text
"Where's the chief?" they asked.
"Well, he seemed not interested in joining us," Camille shrugged. "I asked him and even offered to buy him a drink. But he didn't say anything."
Dwayne and Fidel exchanged glances.
"What?" Camille demanded.
"Well, it's just that you are usually able to persuade him to come for after-work drinks, Camille," explained Fidel.
"Is your convincing power waning?" teased Dwayne.
"Hey, it's not like my convincing power works every time." She shrugged again. "Maybe he really is not just in the mood to celebrate."
"But we solved a murder and he successfully brought back romance to the lives of his parents," said Fidel, confused.
Camille didn't say anything. She really didn't have any explanation to give to Fidel. Usually, she would come up with an excuse for their boss' unsociable behaviour accompanied by righteous anger and frustration. But surprisingly tonight, she was not seething at all. In fact, she felt like she had finally accepted something. She took a swig of her beer and remained silent.
"You know what I think, Camille. He lost his celebratory mood when you refused to call him Chief," Dwayne said matter-of-factly.
Camille gave him a derisive snort and shook her head. "What is so important about that? I call him 'sir' which is a more respectful way to address a superior officer, am I right? Why do I have to call him Chief?" She shook her head again. "That's just him wanting me to stroke him pompous ego." Now, she was seething inside.
"Camille, Camille," Dwayne pacified. "It may look like that but it can also be that he considered being called Chief as a term of endearment."
Camille rolled her eyes at this. "Him? The only person on this island as stiff and unfeeling as a starched shirt? You must be joking, Dwayne."
"Alright, maybe not a term of endearment, but maybe as a term of acceptance or belonging. You know, even the Commissioner calls him Chief sometimes. So maybe you should call him Chief from now on," Dwayne hurriedly explained.
But that explanation didn't go down well with Camille at all. "Are you saying I be like one of the boys, Dwayne? Is that it? That the only way our boss will feel welcome on this island is when I call him Chief? Hah! Not going to happen."
"Camille, Dwayne is merely suggesting that you make concession for the Chief, you know. Maybe you can just call him Chief from time to time. To sort of break up the sir?" added Fidel helpfully.
"I said NOT going to happen, Fidel." She said, obviously annoyed. But she quickly schooled her features lest her colleagues think she was just being immature and stubborn about it. She felt the need to clarify. "Look, I appreciate you guys providing logical reasons for why he is obsessed with being called Chief. But like I said, I won't do it even if he ordered me to. And it's not about being stubborn or disrespectful. It's about my right to respectfully address him in my own way."
Dwayne and Fidel just exchanged worried looks. They suddenly realised the issue probably ran counter to Camille's beliefs on respect. Seeing this reaction from her fellow officers, she felt the need to reassure them. "You have nothing to worry about. I respect him as our senior officer. He has already earned that because he's a brilliant detective and an effective leader. If we're in an official setting, I would introduce him as our Chief of Police, sure. But I will not, under any circumstances, address him as Chief because I have no wish to pander to this childish obsession about titles. I'm a human being not a drone. So sorry but it's just how I feel about it."
A long silence fell into their small group. They seemed to be minding their own thoughts while cradling the beers in their hands.
Camille sighed and broke the silence first. "Look, let's not talk about him anymore. We're here because we successfully solved a case. So he may not be here but that doesn't mean we, as a team, shouldn't celebrate. I think we did great. Fidel, you were right about the raincoat and Dwayne, you were right about Luc. So here's to us!"
The two officers finally smiled and clinked their bottles with her. Truth be told, they actually did a pretty good job. They needed this, so whatever disagreement their two senior officers had, they attributed it to them having their usual spat, which they got over quickly anyway.
"Maybe the Chief will join us next time," Fidel said hopefully.
"Maybe," Camille said, unconvinced. "But I will no longer invite him to go with us for after-work drinks. Seems like I've used up all my persuading powers, as you called it, on him. I feel like he will just balk at me if I try to invite him again. So I'm not going to anymore."
"Ah but if you call him Chief, he'll be putty in your hands," Dwayne pointed out cheekily.
Camille gave him THE look.
"Dwayne," Fidel scolded the older officer.
"What? I was just joking." He shrugged back. Camille gave him another look. "Alright, alright. To make amends, I'll be the one to invite him every time. I can't promise I can persuade him but I'll try."
"Then let's drink to that," said Camille finally smiling.
It was before midnight when they went their separate ways. Camille helped her maman close up the bar before she headed to her own apartment. Fidel and Dwayne were good company and very dear friends. Despite the grueling work hours and emotional rollercoaster that the case brought, she was thankful she got to unwind with them. She refused to think about her stubborn boss who should have been there but wasn't. 'He made a choice, it was his loss,' she rationalised.
"So Richard didn't join you guys for drinks?" asked Catherine as she placed bottles and glasses away. "How come?"
"He is probably tired from solving the case, Maman, and from dealing with his parents," Camille explained as she packed away napkins in the bar.
"Well, it was sweet of him to make an effort to reconcile his parents. His mother, Jennifer, is a lovely woman," Catherine said. "What is his father like?"
Camille jogged her memory. She had only met Graham Poole briefly. "Hmm...he is like the older version of Richard. Very English but I guess, not as uptight as Richard."
"Perhaps, old age had tempered that English uptightness somewhat," laughed Catherine. "I wonder if Richard would be the same?"
Camille just shrugged. She didn't point out to her mother that Richard's father was married to a smart and strong woman and that maybe she was the reason for his change. As for Richard, she doubted if he would change his ways when he reached old age. Probably even a woman couldn't change him, she thought. 'I tried. But then again, he wasn't in love with me. Maybe he needed to be in love with a person so he could change, who knows.' She resisted the urge to pout in the presence of Catherine's very perceptive eyes. When they were done, she kissed her mother goodbye and set off to her apartment.
She resolved some things that night. When she stepped down from the stairs of the station, leaving Richard behind, she felt her heart clenched with invisible hurt and disappointment. The pedantic and dense Englishman could be quite cruel to her without knowing it. She sighed. Since when did she become so thin-skinned? She lingered for a few moments and looked at the vast ocean, it was such a pretty sight to behold. She imagined the coming waves washing away her disappointment and hope. For good.
If she was being honest with herself, she would admit that she was getting tired of always making the effort to include him, to befriend him, to get close to him. Her attempts at not keeping him isolated from the team were met with resistance, reluctant acceptance and on a good day, just grudging agreement. But most of the time, she would get rebuffed or outrightly rejected. She wished she could keep trying but her emotional reserves were being depleted. All the negativity, his negativity, was getting to her and she hated it.
But his recent issue about her not calling him Chief really was the final straw. Why was it so important to him? She had this nagging feeling that it was his pompous way of showing her who was boss and putting her in her place. She felt sad and angry. Hadn't they known each other for two years? Sure, she was disrespectful at times but only if she needed to point out the bigger picture, which he tended to miss. Also, she would get annoyed with him for his meticulous ways but she always deferred to his better judgment in the end. As for her teasing, she had hoped that he had gotten used to it by now because she thought they were friends.
Apparently after two years of working together, they were not. It was a painful realization. She wished she could brush the whole thing aside, but if she did, she won't be able to work with him. She would feel awkward and unprofessional. So she had better face it and make a choice. And what she chose and resolved to do was to treat him just as a colleague, a superior officer, one that she had to work with (and put up with). She would no longer try too hard to be his friend or even aim to be more than his friend. She would also give up any romantic feelings for him. Perhaps, it would be better that way.
Before she went to bed, she poured herself a glass of wine, turned on her old record player and put on The Supremes vinyl album. Diana Ross, Florence Ballard and Mary Wilson's harmonious singing came on smoothly and demanding, "Set me free why don't cha babe?…Cause you keep me hanging on." She swayed to the music, closing her eyes. This was a very good song for her. It was like a fighting song, an empowering talisman of sort. Yes, it was time to be free of this limbo of emotions she felt for her boss. It was time to move on. She laughed. 'Silly woman. There was nothing to move on from in the first place,' she berated inwardly. 'Oh well, it all ends tonight and tomorrow will be a new day for this new Camille.'
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She woke up bright and early. She was a bit surprised she didn't have any hangover. But again, she didn't drink too much last night. Two beers with Dwayne and Fidel plus that glass of wine before going to bed. Those wouldn't make a dent on her. She drank her coffee and changed into her running clothes. She felt different today. Released from alternately feeling sad and hopeful about her boss because of her resolution, she no longer feel like an infatuated schoolgirl.
She was a woman, a powerful woman. She looked at herself in the mirror. No more flirting. No more meaningful glances. No more banter. No more getting hopeful. No more feeling disappointed. She just wanted to focus on pure professional work and career advancement. Perhaps, even move to Paris again. Can she really do it? "I can and I will," she told herself. She put her headphones on and walked out the door. She would run her desires away, run every sadness and disappointment. She would run until she was exhausted and come back to her place to wash it all away in the shower. She would be her own person again, the one before Richard Poole came into her life.
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She walked into the station with her headphones on. She was listening to her 'empowerment' play list. She turned them off and pulled it down to her neck and said a cheery good morning to the room. She nodded and smiled at Fidel and Dwayne and sat on her chair. Richard was looking at her and she just gave him a brief smile, a nod and a "Sir" to acknowledge him before turning her focus on her PC. She took off her headphones and stashed it away in her bag. 'He probably flinched when I called him sir but who cares? I don't,' she said to herself.
Today was paperwork day. So she made sure to focus on her work diligently. She avoided looking at her boss who was busy with his own work anyway. Occasionally, he would ask a question and either Fidel or Dwayne would answer him. She didn't contribute to their banter but she would look up once in a while and give Fidel or Dwayne a smile or a shrug in answer to their question or two. She would only answer her boss if she was directly spoken to, but other than that she busied herself with writing her reports.
The three men seemed to notice that she was hard at work and really quite busy. So they rarely disturbed her. Richard couldn't help but glance at her every so often and saw her concentrating on the computer. He was surprised that she was pouring herself into her work with such focus and determination. She hardly talked to him. And for some unknown reason, he missed the sound of her voice.
Camille didn't know all that, she just wanted to do her work and be productive and maybe, she could catch up on her backlogs if no one gets murdered that day. She realised she was staring at her computer for quite some time and needed a break. She stood up and stretched her back. "Fidel, Dwayne do you guys want coffee?" she asked. They thanked her for her offer but passed on it. She went to the pantry to pour herself some. "How about you, sir? Do you want some coffee?" She said as politely as she could.
Richard looked studiously busy. "No thank you, Camille," he said dismissively without looking at her. She felt something prick at her heart but she put a stop to it by humming The Supremes song softly as the lyrics came to her head.
"Set me free why don't cha babe
Get out my life why don't cha babe
'Cause you don't really love me
You just keep me hangin' on
You don't really need me
But you keep me hangin' on…"
She kept humming it all the way back to her seat. She didn't see Richard watching her every move, hearing her humming to herself. She stopped, sipped her coffee and went back to work.
Richard was trying to identify what song she was humming but to no avail. He didn't really have any knowledge of pop songs. But he was beginning to get suspicious about her behaviour today. Was she sulking because of last night? It didn't seem like it because she was still talking to him. So it must be something else. He really should have apologised to his team for his absence during the celebratory drinks last night. But now the timing was no longer there and anyway Dwayne and Fidel told him about it this morning and he kind of apologised to them. But Camille wasn't there so he didn't know what to say to her.
She was probably annoyed or perhaps mad at him for not coming to La Kaz last night. Back then, he thought of changing his mind but was just too embarrassed to make a fool of himself in front of her. Plus, she started it. He was in a good mood for celebrating and she ruined it by being stubborn and pigheaded. He had to show her who was boss. He glanced at her again, secretly willing her to glance his way so he could look away from her. But her eyes were glued to her PC. He gave up and focused on his own paperwork.
Soon it was lunch time. Dwayne and Fidel were going out to lunch and mentioned they would also be patrolling the market. Camille grabbed her bag, took out her headphones and placed it on her neck. She intended not to spend lunch time with him as much as possible, especially when they were not really busy at the station or if there was no murder to solve. 'Lunch time should be my 'me' time," she thought to herself. 'It would be good to have time away from him. I have to take care of me and I can't do that if I'm at the beck and call of my boss.'
She turned off her PC and stood up. "Um sir, I'm going out to lunch. Do you have your lunch with you or do you need me to get you anything?"
Richard was startled by her voice. He looked at her desk and realized she was no longer there. He searched for her and saw her already standing by the doorway. She was looking at him expectantly. "Um, no, you go ahead and enjoy your lunch," he said, surprised that Camille was going out to lunch. She would usually invite him for lunch or she would go down the market and buy her own lunch and bring it back with her to the station to keep him company.
She gave him a curt nod, put on her headphones and left. Richard waited a couple of minutes and then hurriedly walked toward the verandah to see if he could catch a glimpse of Camille as she was leaving. He did. He saw her walking leisurely down the market and a feeling of dejavu hit him. This was exactly the scene he was in last night—he remembered watching Camille walk off looking disappointed, she had lingered and looked out to the sea as if contemplating something before heading toward La Kaz.
He knew he could have changed his mind then, followed her and probably just declare to her grumpily: "I'm allowed to change my mind." But he didn't. His arrogance and stubborn streak rooted him to the spot, looking at the receding figure of Camille in dismay. Something dropped at the pit of his stomach, bringing him back to the present. He felt like losing something important. But he couldn't figure it out just yet. He went back inside the station with a heavy heart.
Camille, for her part, was enjoying her playlist as she walked through the market. She smiled at the people who greeted her. She had decided to eat lunch at a cafe overlooking the beach, which was quiet and unassuming. She steered clear of her mother's bar because she didn't want her mother to think she was sulking about something. Her maman had a knack for deducing how she felt at any given time and she would definitely know she was trying to hide something. She just wanted to be left alone to think over what she really wanted to do with her life.
One thing was certain, she wanted to be good at her job and even more. She wanted to advance her career and not be stuck following someone else's orders. One day, she would be the one leading a team and solving the crime. But she knew she needed more experience, she needed to learn more. So she would bid her time, learn what she could and grow professionally in her current position. It seemed like a sensible plan. 'Richard will probably not be here long as I'm sure he is also just waiting until something opens up at the Met so he could go back,' she thought. Then corrected herself, 'I should probably not use his first name that often if I want to keep it strictly professional between us.'
She started jotting down her goals in life in a small journal she kept in her bag. Would she entertain dates? She wasn't sure about this at first but then decided, why not. Nothing serious, just for fun. She didn't want to commit to anyone for that would be contrary to her professional goals. But she was not going to be uptight like her boss. 'All work and no fun would make Camille a dull stick in the mud,' she thought. 'No, that is not going to happen.'
Next on her agenda was to update her combat skills. But that was already covered since Dwayne had given her a contact to a training gym a few days ago, which she promptly visited. The other thing she wanted to do was to take a refresher for the authorised firearms officer course, which would most likely need approval from her superior officer and the police commissioner. But top on her list was really to study for the detective inspector exam but she knew it would take some time, and that she also needed a recommendation to be put forward by her bosses. So she had to diligently work on that and find a way to get recommended.
Camille looked out to sea and breathed deeply. It felt nice to have a plan for her future. 'No more pining for someone who didn't really care about anything but himself,' she thought. But then she quickly scolded herself for going there. To be fair, she knew Richard was actually a good person and had his own way of caring about others. She also had to remind herself that he had his life and own ideals he wanted to stick to and these would never change. He would be the same person whether he was in Saint Marie or in London just as long as he was able to solve a murder. That was all he needed. And London, of course. So she came to understand him this way.
For her part, she wanted to experience what life had to offer. She loved her job but it was not going to be her everything. She knew fully well that there were other things in life worth living for like love and the pursuit of happiness. It was just unfortunate that she won't be finding love and its corresponding happiness with Richard or in Saint Marie.
Nonetheless, this would not stop her from being open to new things, embracing changes and taking chances. 'I guess, that's the huge gaping hole between us,' she sighed. She knew Richard was unwilling to compromise for anything or anybody. It was like he lived by his own code, which she failed to comprehend or accept. 'Well, it doesn't matter anymore,' she thought. 'I am my own person and I will go for what truly matters to me in this life.' She looked at her watch and saw it was almost time to go back. She stood up and strode off to the station.