Chapter Text
Camille lifted the beautiful red chiffon dress out of her wardrobe and gazed at it wistfully. Had it really been a whole year since Richard had seen her in this? And why couldn't he have been her date that evening, after all?
The past year had gone smoothly enough with Richard and the team; Dwayne was his predictable loveable-rogue self, and Fidel was fast becoming a policeman of exceptional talent and promise. Camille knew it wouldn't be long before he made Detective.
As for Richard: she sighed and wondered if he would ever have the courage to ask her out or make the first move in some way. Oh yes, there had been a few tentative little comments, a few compliments, tummy weakening looks, etc, but nothing had ever really developed.
Maybe she should take the bull by the horns and give Erzulie a great big nudge. Did she dare enlist the help of her mother, she wondered? Catherine, who had spent the previous year's Erzulie week attempting to fix Camille up with some suitable blind date, had all but given up on matchmaking. It had become increasingly clear even to her that her daughter was too enamoured of the pedantic, though brilliant, Englishman - and vice versa, though they didn't yet recognise it themselves - to have the slightest interest in anyone else.
And, perhaps surprisingly, Catherine found that she didn't really mind too much after all. Camille was her only child and she wanted her happiness above all. So, if Camille had her heart set on the unusual English detective with his love of detail and his aversion to heat, sand and insects, then Catherine was willing to do what was needed to help true love take its course.
What was needed was a plan.
Surely the goddess of love, aided and abetted by two determined French women, would be more than a match for one Richard Poole? In the nicest possible way (of course), Erzulie would dangle the bait, hook the prize, and reel him in, preferably without his ever having the faintest idea what hit him.
"Camille, you do know what next week is, don't you?" Catherine asked her daughter a touch disingenuously.
"Yes, maman," Camille sighed wearily. "And I know you mean well, but I really do not want you trying to set me up with blind dates again this year. Last year was bad enough - "
"No, don't worry, cherie," her mother interrupted. "I know that things are different now. And I know that there is only one man you've got your heart set on..."
"What do you mean?" asked Camille a tad sharply.
"Come on, do you think you can fool your mother? You may have spent a long time fooling yourself - or rather, yourselves - but I can tell that it was a certain Englishman who captured your heart quite a long time ago now."
"Oh, maman, it's hopeless. He's not interested in me," answered Camille sadly.
"Now, don't say that! First of all, it's never hopeless (especially not during Erzulie week), and secondly, Richard has feelings for you too, you know. I've seen it on his face in unguarded moments when he didn't realise anyone was watching him. Don't give up yet, Camille."
"I'm not so sure, maman. Even if you're right, he's so reserved and emotionally repressed that I can't imagine him ever doing anything about it anyway. He'll never ask me out, let alone tell me how he feels. If he feels anything for me, that is." Camille was beginning to look quite forlorn and Catherine felt truly sorry for her.
"Chin up, darling. Won't you let your mother help you out a bit? After all, I believe I can enlist the help of Erzulie..."
Camille shook her head. She knew what her mother could be like, and even though her intentions were good, the idea that a so-called voodoo goddess could actually cause a sentient human being to 'fall in love' or whatever it was her maman had in mind, was highly doubtful. It may have been a bit of harmless fun, but Camille's problems of the heart were set in the real world, and therefore the answer to them would not lie in make-believe or superstition.
"Maman, I appreciate your prayers for me and all that, but if Richard was really going to feel anything genuine for me, it would have to come from him willingly, not by some sort of 'spell' or 'enchantment'. That would be cheating; and it wouldn't last anyway."
"Of course you can't conjure up a genuine deep and lasting emotion that isn't already there for real, I do understand that," asserted Catherine.
"And do you really think that all I have in mind is lighting a candle or two for you? I intend to be much more pro-active and inventive than that. What I have in mind is a rather strong rousing of the old green-eyed monster."
"Maman, Richard is many things, but he is not a monster!" huffed Camille, misunderstanding the idiom and indignantly rushing to the defence of her beloved Inspector.
"What? No, I didn't mean his green eyes, silly; I was talking about the good old stand-by: jealousy. There's nothing like provoking a person's jealousy - however subconscious - to help them recognise their latent love for someone. Trust me, it works."
Quite how Catherine managed to wheedle, wangle and cajole four different - and very attractive - men into agreeing to a 'blind date' with her daughter was a feat that Camille could only marvel at.
"Maman, I'm not sure this is really fair; after all, you know I have no intention whatsoever of letting any sort of relationship develop with any of them, no matter how nice or 'compatible' they might be," protested Camille.
"Relax, Camille. They're not looking for true love, just a pleasant evening with a pretty woman on their arm to pass the time. Let's face it, no one wants to be all by themselves during Erzulie Festival, so most people appreciate a bit of light-hearted amusement or socialising for at least one evening of the week.
"Richard doesn't have to know that, though..," Catherine added with a slightly mischievous twinkle.
"Maman, that's practically Machiavellian!"
"Cherie, sometimes a man needs a nudge. Particularly a dense one like Richard."
Camille opened her mouth to protest again, but Catherine challenged her.
"Well, do you want him or not? Good, then let's let him discover just how much he wants you, okay? Like I said, sometimes we don't realise how much we value something or someone until we fear we're about to lose them."
Camille cautiously agreed. "So, who are they then, these dates?"
Unwinding at the end of the week after the successful solving of yet another murder case, the team were having their usual beers at La Kaz. Richard was pushing the boat out and drinking beer and not tea, even though he couldn't usually get what he regarded as a 'decent' cuppa anywhere else on the British/French/native Caribbean island. This, along with his satisfaction at the resolution of the case, may have contributed to his feeling slightly more mellow than otherwise.
So, when Catherine took him aside and asked sweetly if she could 'get his advice' over something pertaining to Camille, he was surprisingly receptive.
"Well, the thing is, Richard, having been on my own for so long, it's sometimes very difficult to understand a man's perspective on these things. You've got to know my daughter very well these past three years, and you have an exceptional ability to read a person's character and motives, being so perceptive yourself. Well, obviously, that's what makes you such a good detective, after all."
She opened her gentle salvo with the kind of compliment that appealed to Richard's professional pride.
Richard was duly flattered. He raised his eyebrows and, with an open expression, said, "Oh! I see. Well...how can I help you, Catherine?"
The latter smiled demurely. "Well, as you may remember, next week is Erzulie week, the love festival that comes round every year." She looked down coyly, then continued.
"I'm afraid that last year's was a bit...unsuccessful with regard to Camille, but I have managed to line up four lovely gentlemen this year, all known either to myself or good friends, and all seemingly trustworthy and upstanding. But, of course, being Camille's mother, I may not have quite the detached view needed to 'read' these men's true characters, or the extent of their compatibility with my daughter."
At the mention of four dates for Camille, Richard spluttered and nearly choked on his mouthful of beer.
"So," she continued with mock naivety, "I was wondering if there was any chance that you might be able to...well...sort of 'vet' them for me. You know, if you could arrange to be 'casually' about the place when they are here, you could subtly observe them - both on their own, perhaps, and even possibly with Camille."
Richard was about to say that was the most outrageous and inappropriate suggestion he'd heard in a long time, but the look of 'innocent' pleading on Catherine's face, and the slight tilt of her head in best 'damsel in distress' fashion won him over. Not to mention the stirrings of an as yet unidentified emotion deep within his psyche, as he began to reflect, with horror, on the prospect of Camille with another man. No, make that four other men, and each one of them a potential viable romantic partner. Maybe even a life partner.....
Something inside him revolted and he knew instinctively that, much as he did not wish meet the potential 'competition' for her affections (now, where did he come up with that word?), let alone observe them together on a date or dates, this could be his best chance of throwing a spanner into the works.
After all, Catherine was actually inviting him to use his deductive gifts to bring some possible influence to bear on her choice of...partner. It was too vital an opportunity to let slip, or so he reasoned.
With an air of gallant self-sacrifice and old school charm, Richard shrugged benignantly and agreed in principle.
"But how will I ever get the opportunity to meet them? I can't be seen to be spying on Camille, and I certainly can't hang around 'lurking in the shrubbery', can I?" he questioned, suddenly somewhat alarmed at the ramifications of carrying out this 'favour'.
Again, another look of feigned innocence. "Um...well, as it happens, I would be needing an extra hand next week, what with all the extra volume of business there will be. Erzulie week is one of our very busiest on Saint Marie."
"You want me to spend the week being your bartender or waiter?!? How the hell is that supposed to work?? I can't just tell the team, 'Oh by the way, I'm bunking off at lunchtime and moonlighting in the evenings as the hired help in Catherine's bar', can I?!?"
Both he and Catherine could feel a rant coming on, so she quickly and deftly introduced the pre-prepared explanation.
"No, no, of course not, Richard. I'm so sorry if that's what it sounded like. No, I simply meant that we could say that you had kindly offered to show my staff how to make a decent cup of English tea, and perhaps a few other English ways of preparing things. And one of the men has a young nephew who has just come back from spending a year in London so, seeing as I know you miss it sometimes, I wondered if you might enjoy reminiscing a bit with him?"
Just then, Dwayne called out, "Hey, Chief, are you coming back to the table? The rest of your beer's getting warm."
Deflected, Richard hurriedly agreed to Catherine's 'hare-brained' scheme, and said he'd drop by Monday lunchtime if he could get away without arousing suspicion. Little did he suspect, of course, that Camille was already in on it, so she would give him all the leeway needed to carry out his secret 'mission'.
"Coming, Dwayne," he called back to the others at the table outside. "I have to go now, Catherine, the others will start to wonder what's going on; we've been talking a bit too long," he said with a slightly panicked expression.
When his back was turned to go, Catherine looked over at her daughter still sitting at the table with Dwayne and Fidel and, seeing that the boys were not facing either her or Camille, gave her daughter a discreet little conspiratorial wink.