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*I wrote this over 2 years ago when things seemed dire. I hope it doesn’t bring back bad memories for anyone and I certainly don’t mean to make light of anyone’s COVID experience.*
Lock Down
Part 1 of 3
It’s early morning, the air is cool, the sky is pale blue, everything seems so fresh and safe and peaceful - and she’s a bit breathless because she’d dashed out of the station only two minutes earlier, racing to pick up her Special-Delivery First-Class Rush-Rush-Rush package as soon as she’d hung up the phone. “Be right back!!” she’d yelled then dove out the door, putting everything she had into running down the steps without breaking her neck while waving a hand over her shoulder at the shouted warning.She skids to a halt outside the Post Office where Mrs. Upshot waits, official Receipt Book taped to a broom handle, pen dangling from a string. Camille scribbles her initials, grabs the tossed package, and turns for the station… when another thought pops up and she takes a quick detour to skitter to La Kaz’s door and holler, “Maman! Do you have an extra box of his tea?”Catherine runs out, a large bagged box of PG Tips in one gloved hand. She throws it and is just taking breath to urge her daughter to take it and RUN… when a strangely ominous low howl warbles into existence. It spreads like poisoned honey into the hushed air, slow at first then faster and louder until it claxons like the retired and repurposed Air Raid Siren it really is.Camille and her mother stiffen, eyes staring in shock above their masks, because… well, because no one had actually thought they would hear this sound in real life! Their fright is being mirrored all over Honoré as people jump or freeze or gasp, listening in growing dread, hoping like mad this is just an unscheduled test or a mechanical error or an over-zealous public servant who’s ‘jumped the gun’… but in their heart of hearts they know it’s not.This is NOT a test, people, this is ‘IT!!’ the siren seems to scream. Time to duck and cover! And isn’t it a good thing cooler heads prevailed at the Town Meeting of only 17 days ago? Aren’t you glad now that you’ve been practicing what to do if ‘The Plague’ came to the island? Many grumped, some refused to cooperate, but most of you went along in the face of the combined determination of your Doctor, your Fire Marshall, and your Police Chief.
Yes, you mostly cooperated with the daily noon rehearsals, smiling indulgently at the three men who stood on the main streets with stopwatches in their hands, clipboards at the ready, pens poised to take note of slackers and slow-coaches. The latest ‘lock-down’ times were posted daily with stern hints that certain people and certain businesses better ‘pull up their socks’ in the event of an actual emergency. It had been a bit of good communal fun, joshing with neighbours, teasing family members, and seeing who could outrun whom... but that’s all over now... because it’s TIME!
And it was true that, mostly, everyone had complied with the daily drills... because the Doctor, the Marshall, and the Chief had the full support of the Women’s Council... and no one wants to mess with THEM! (the Council, not the men) (don’t tell the men) (the women already know so nothing more need be said) (ESPECIALLY to the men)The school children even had a song:
Red Eye, Red Eye, make you bloom!
Hot up, hot up, Daddy goes boom!
Puff up, puff up, Daddy goes plop!
Here come the dribbles, they won’t stop.
Two days later, we’re OK.
Bad germs, bad germs, stay away!
Bad germs, fly off, go to the moon.
Bad germs, bad germs, zoom zoom zoom!”
They skip in circles, pull down their lower eyelids, blink at each other then fall over and kick their heels in the air before jumping to their feet again and waving their arms. It might have been cute a month ago. None of the adults are laughing now.No, the women frown and look at their men. The men shiver inside and try to pretend they weren’t worried, assuring their women that everything will be fine. But it isn’t fine. It isn’t fine at all because ‘Red Eye’ aka ‘The Plague’ aka ‘TJNB-14+’ had escaped or mutated or evolved or something and it was loose in the world. It only attacked human males ages 14 and up. Women didn’t get sick so all over the world women stocked their homes and prepared for, quite literally, a shit storm.The first sign is a faint flush around the eyes which worsens hourly until the eyes are blood-red, a very disturbing sight. You’d almost expect thick red tears but no, the eyes run clear and colourless. Then shivers, then shudders, then molten lava in your veins and, if you were standing, you fell over ‘boom’, hence the song lyrics. The final phase was too awful and no man wanted to witness it much less experience it! The Dribbles; a whole body no holds barred gushing of every fluid contained within the male human body. Except blood... thank goodness for small mercies. It wasn’t fatal but some men never recovered their dignity. World leaders went into ‘self-isolation’ immediately after the first case of ‘The Dribbles’ was caught on TV.So the children’s tune emulated that mediaeval old favourite ‘Ring Around The Rosy’. No one knew what ‘zoom zoom zoom’ meant but the kids insisted it was needed to end the song.At any rate, now everyone is frozen in place as the Emergency Alert Siren blares its rising and falling scream of warning, jumping the blood and making feet start to jitter without thought.There is a paralyzed moment before people streak into action and if anyone was timing this lock-down they would be astonished! The streets empty. Doors and windows slam shut everywhere. Cars throw up wheel-hats as they race out of town into the surrounding hills. Boats careen out of the harbour heading for the wide open sea. Practice makes perfect and Honoré will be a ghost town in less than a minute.However, this is about 15 seconds short of what Camille Bordey needs in order to flash up the street, around the corner, and up the hill. As the station comes into view, she already knows she isn’t going to make it. He had drilled and drilled until he had achieved a best total lock-down time of 42 seconds flat. The front doors are closed and she hears windows slamming shut as she leaps the stairs and careens into the East door, hammering and kicking and roaring, “Let me in! You open this door and let me in RIGHT NOW!!”
End – part 1
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Part 2 of 3
God, she hopes it’s Dwayne standing closest because he would let her in. The other one? Not so much. He’d warned her and Dwayne that if they were caught outside then they’d have to weather the lock-down wherever they were. Fidel was under strict orders to go straight home to be with his family... at a dead run of 37 seconds (Poole and Juliette timed him)!Poole had lectured at length, “Fidel’s a married man with family obligations. We three will isolate here and man the phones conducting wellness checks until the ‘72 hour alert’ sounds. We will then join in the task of making house to house inquiries. If all goes well, the ‘all clear’ signal can then be given. In the meantime, you have your PPE’s and your knowledge, please be careful and stay vigilant.”Dwayne and Camille had nodded solemnly, feeling the weight of responsibility for all the souls in town. There are no in-coming tourists. No one is traveling. TJNB-14+ had not yet reached Sainte-Marie’s shores and everyone hoped it would pass them by.As Camille pounds on the door, she shivers to imagine a slavering seething smoky monster creeping up behind... and pounds harder! “Let me IN! I was only gone 4 minutes... 5, tops! I didn’t go near any one! I didn’t touch anything! I’m not contaminated so let me IN!”She hushes and presses an ear to the door to hear Dwayne arguing to let her in but not getting anywhere. She slaps the door and hisses, “I can hear you! Don’t you ignore me! Open up!”HIS voice wafts out, apologetically authoritative, “I’m sorry, Camille, Dwayne and I are under lock-down so you had better go to your mother’s place and isolate there.”She slaps the door again, “NO! If I go back then I risk being exposed. If you don’t let me in then I’m just gonna sit down!” She slaps the door one last time, huffs with annoyance, and flops down onto a bench, all the while swearing her best French swears.His voice flutes out to her, “I can still hear you, you know, so stop swearing. You knew the risk when you left the station on your errand. Sorry, but there you are.”“Yes,” she grouses, “here I am!” Then she suddenly remembers her packages clamped under her arm. Her eyes light up and she makes a very French moue before standing slowly and going back to the door. She leans in and whispers, “Richard?”He answers immediately. He must have been listening very attentively. “Yes?”“Come to the west window, I have something to show you.” She tiptoes to the window behind Dwayne’s desk. She hears brogues following and smiles. She waits; six feet back as required and keeps her surprises behind her back. After a few moments, she sees slight movement in the narrow crack between the shutters and a very green eye is now looking out.“What is it?” he asks suspiciously, as if expecting a devastating Gallic war tactic of some kind.And he isn’t wrong.She smiles sweetly, “Don’t you want to know what was so important that it drew me out of safety and away from… um, from my job?” She bites her lip. Whew! That was close, I almost said ‘… away from YOU’! She schools her face into innocence, “I had a package. All the way from England. Special order. Triple rush. Critical. Aren’t you curious?”Now he shifts a bit and the other emerald eye gleams brightly. He thinks about it and can’t help asking, “Well, alright, what is it? All the way from England, you say? Critical?”She nods, “Yes, but first I want to show you this.” She brings out the box of tea and cradles it like a baby, crooning, “Here now, isn’t this fine? Look at the colours. Smell that aroma!” She dips her head and takes a deep breath. As does he, she hears it quite distinctly. She knows this shaft hits home because she also knows there’s no tea in the station. No tea at all.She puts on a puzzled face, “I don’t know how you can tell the difference, this PDQ Tops…”“TIPS!” he snorts, “PG Tips! And I can smell the difference at ten paces. Hold it closer…” She does. She hears another lingering sniff from behind the shutters then his eye is back, “That’s cruel, Camille, but if I have to forego tea for 3 days in order to be safe, I will. You’d best toddle off…” but his voice peters out as she sets the tea down and brings out the other parcel.She gives the window a sloe-eyed look. “Then there’s THIS,” she whispers as she unwraps the parcel and tilts it up so he can see the contents. This time his hush is a silent shout!“Oh, god,” he finally mutters and she hears some sort of scuffle then Dwayne’s voice sounds.“Camille, it’s me. Are you absolutely sure you didn’ see no men in town? Or touch anythin’? Or take your gloves off fer even a second? Are you absolutely reefin’ SURE? ‘Cause if you give us Red Eye, I’ll never forgive you an’ neither will the Chief. I’ll push him t’ bust you down t’ Constable an’ I will personally shove you back out this window so fast yer head will spin!”She crosses her heart and holds up her hand, “I swear on my unborn children’s lives, I haven’t been near any men except you two and Fidel in over a week. If you really need to be sure, toss out the sanitizer and I’ll strip down and smear myself from head to toe.”There is the sound of another scuffle and Richard’s voice is back, “That won’t be necessary, Camille, just rub all your exposed skin. I’ll time you. You can come in after 20 minutes.”The shutter creaks open a scant few inches and a pump-bottle is lobbed gently out. She catches it and slathers her hands and arms and legs. She takes rather a bit longer on her legs with an ear bent for the slightest of sounds... which she hears, a sort of soft sad sigh with a distinct UK inflection. She smiles as she also hears Dwayne’s grumbling about not letting her strip. She finishes by wiping down her face, neck, and shoulders then plops down onto a nearby bench to let it all dry to a hard crinkly shell.
END - part 2
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Part 3 of 3
Once the 20 minutes are up, the shutter creaks open a trifle wider and a suited arm shoots out. A pale fine-boned hand opens, palm up, but she clutches both boxes to her chest and shakes her head, “Oh, no, you don’t! I’m keeping these until I’m inside. We French know all about you English. Never take your eyes off them, not for a second, the sneaky sneaks!”His hand hovers for another moment then the shutters open wide and he is framed to perfection but looking more than slightly peeved! “The English always deal in good faith! Always. Come in, we need to batten down the hatches again and start making phone calls.”She smiles sweetly and holds out a hand. He sighs dramatically and reaches out to help her climb in. Not that she needs help but she for sure isn’t going to hand over her cargo until she’s safely inside! Oh, she knows all about the English, a tricksy race!Once her feet are on the station floor, she latches the shutters then turns to him where he stands stiffly, waiting with Dwayne looking over his shoulder a bit mystified. She ceremoniously places the mystery parcel into pale hands and he dives to his desk to bring out a battered tin. As he lovingly shuffles sugary rainbow Jelly Babies into it, his smile is both tender and hungry.Dwayne watches this for a moment then looks to her, “Candy? All this wuz over CAN-dy?”Richard murmurs, “Not just candy, Dwayne, Bassetts Jelly Babies.”Camille coos, “Candy... and TEA!”When they hear each other’s reply, their eyes lock briefly before he looks down to finish the transfer and she says quietly to Dwayne, “It’s a thing with him, those candies and this tea.” She puts the green and white box onto the break area table.Dwayne frowns, “So, tea an’ candy, that’s yer ticket in? I didn’ think he’d break his own rules.”“Yes,” she whispers, watching Richard stroke a dark ‘Bigheart’ before slipping it into his mouth and chewing with closed eyes, “and, Erzuli willing, I have more that he needs. He doesn’t know it yet but… in 3 days I hope he does. Oh, yes, I really do.”“Eh?” Dwayne drawls, his eyebrows climbing, “Whatchoo talkin’ ‘bout, Sarge?”She smiles, “I’m talking about needing private time with him. Think you can arrange to be asleep or busy across the room a lot with your back to us and your ears turned off?”Now Dwayne’s brow clears and he chuckles, “Oh, I get it. Well, yeah, sure, but I can’t see the Chief getting’ all luvvy-duvvy in the middle of a crisis!”She huffs, “He doesn’t need to get all luvvy-duvvy. He just needs to learn the facts and accept the way things are. He’s a smart man, I’m sure he can manage.”Dwayne takes a step back, surveying his DS with a new eye, “Um, yeah, OK.” He then turns to gaze at his boss, sees the man’s complete concentration on chewing and chuckles, “I reckon the Chief’s got a surprise comin’, hey?”Camille stands up, smooths down her shorts, hitches up her resolve, and murmurs, “Well, I hope it isn’t TOO much surprise. I’ve been here for him almost from Day One, once I got over my mad, and I’ve given him enough hints and warnings. If he’s as all-fired smart as we think he is then this shouldn’t be a surprise at all, should it?” She takes a small step towards her goal, moving slow like a sleek little yacht threading its way through dangerous shoals towards harbour, home, and hearth.Dwayne watches until he sees the Chief’s eyes come up. He watches his boss watch Camille. Something must be showing real plain on her face because his boss flushes and snaps to attention in no uncertain way. “OK,” Dwayne mutters, “that’s my cue t’ go find somethin’ t’ do inna back room.” He fumbles up a stack of miscellaneous files and beetles off swiftly, calling over his shoulder, “I got me a ton a filin’ t’ do! Man, oh, man, this could take hours!”He charges through the cell-area door, lays down the files on a decrepit stack of slumped cardboard boxes, and closes the door behind him. He stealthily sneaks along the back hallway and closes the other doors too. He listens carefully but can’t hear anything. Could be a good sign. Either way, he isn’t coming back out until someone calls him.He sighs happily, goes into a cell, and lies down. If anyone asks, he was overcome by dust and fatigue and needed a nap. He settles an arm over his eyes, crosses his ankles, and smiles. “Yes, aye,” he mumbles low, feeling sleep wash over him almost instantly (Dwayne is an old hand at illicit napping), “this’ll all blow over in 3 days an’, if Camille gets her way, I’m gonna have one heckova story t’ tell Fidel! Oh, he’s gonna be furious he missed alla fun.”As he fades out, Dwayne thinks maybe he hears sounds coming from the front room. It doesn’t sound like romance, it sounds like tea-making and quiet conversation. He rolls over, tucks a hand beneath his cheek and thinks… ‘Well, tea-makin’ an’ romance, it’s one an’ the same with the Chief, ain’t it? You take an innocent lil English package, put it in hot water, an’ you could get somethin’ wonderful, couldn’t you? Yes, aye, somethin’ wonderful, especially if you add a little French milk an’ sugar…’Within moments, Dwayne is gently snoring and no one comes to wake him for absolute hours.And in those 3 days, the whole future changes, both inside and outside the safe haven of the Sainte-Marie police station, for TJNB-14+ mutates into a harmless version of ‘pink eye’, several countries decide they should stop fighting and just get along, and Richard Poole and Camille Bordey decide the same.But Dwayne was right. Fidel is some mad he missed the miracle on the hill.
END
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Music Doth Soothe The Savage Beast
Part 1 of 2
The Station – early morning – late June
DI Poole opens mail at his desk and sorts it, just another ho-hum chore in his ho-hum day. The very last envelope looks a bit personal and is addressed to ‘The most excellent Chief of Police’ so he slits it open with a wry grin. Finally, I seem to have impressed SOME one on this island.As he removes the carefully folded sheet of vellum, something plaps onto his desktop. He picks it up and it separates into two tickets to ‘The Barbados Chamber Orchestra’s Traveling Harmonic Symphony of English pastoral works: from Arcadia to Utopia, 1900 – 1955’. His eyes widen as he admires the heavily embossed 12-point gloss cover paper stock. After several moments he reads the letter of perfuse thanks from a grateful family whose son did NOT commit murder then rockets out of his chair with a shouted ‘Huzzah!’ and startles everyone else out of a light doze!“Look at this!” he bugles exuberantly, waving the tickets like flags. “Symphony tickets! English pastorals; Elgar, Delius, Vaughan Williams, Gustav Holst, and Walton! All on the same docket! It’s a dream come true!” He looks up happily and sees frowny eyes, “What? What’s wrong?”Three sets of eyes dart from one to the other before Camille steps up to the plate and tries to be diplomatic, “Well, nothing, I guess. But… it’s just music, isn’t it? Classical music?”He chuffs back to happy life, “Too right! Proper English classical music. Not to be missed.”“Oh, I dunno,” Dwayne drawls from his desk where he’s laid his head back down into his arms, “It all puts me t’ sleep. Now SKA, that’s music t’ my ears.” He begins humming something catchy.Richard frowns, “SKA? What’s SKA?”Fidel chimes in as he can see Dwayne is almost asleep once more, “SKA’s like reggae but predates it. It started in Jamaica in the late 50’s. It combines calypso, American jazz, with rhythm and blues. It’s mostly guitar, horns, piano, and drums. It’s very lively.”“Yeah,” Dwayne murmurs sleepily, “it’s characterized by a walkin’ bass line accented with rhythms on th’ off beat.” He doesn’t see the blank look he gets from his boss… but he feels it… and smiles to himself. Another point for Team Myers.Richard turns away from staring at Dwayne and addresses his other two officers, “Um, OK, now that music appreciation class is over, who wants to come with me? Hmm? Chance of a lifetime?”Fidel and Camille exchange worried looks before Fidel beats her to the punch, “Oh, sorry, sir. I’m baby-sitting. It’s Juliet’s night out with the girls and they stay out pretty late!”Richard matches Fidel’s level gaze with one of his own. “Fidel,” he harrumphs, “I haven’t told you the date of the concert yet.”Fidel doesn’t even blink, “No, sir, that’s right, sir. So, what’s the date?”“July 21st and I...”Fidel nods vigorously, “Oh, sir! That’s the very date of Juliet’s much-needed stress relief from running my happy home. What are the chances of that, hmm?”Richard regards his young officer stoically before replying, “Ordinarily I’d say vanishingly small. You wouldn’t lie to me now, would you, Fidel?”Fidel silently crosses his heart and holds up three fingers, “Honest, sir. July 21st, I’m booked.”Richard heaves a huge sigh and doesn’t even get a word out before Dwayne pipes up behind him, “And don’ look at me, Chief, it’s MY night out with th’ girls too. I’m twin-sitting.”Richard turns back to the lounging officer, “Twin-sitting? What does that even mean?”Dwayne smiles lazily, “It means I’m not missin’ my night out with Gerta an’ Gilda for anythin’. Sorry, Chief, not even fer YOU.”Richard mutters, “I just had to ask, didn’t I?” before he swings around to look at the last person in the room who sits up alertly and tries to smile encouragingly. Moments later she’s storming down the steps and into town. When she rushes into her mother’s bar she’s growling.Catherine looks up with alarm as her daughter throws herself onto a bar stool, “Cherie! What is it? Has there been an accident?”“Yes!” Camille shouts, furious and disappointed and embarrassed in equal measure. “I almost killed my boss just now! Oh, that infuriating man! Why do I put up with him? Why do I always expect him to do the right thing when he always does the WRONG thing? Why?!!”Catherine smiles privately and pats her daughter’s hand because she knows full well why. She knows the why to all of it. But she isn’t going to tell Camille that. Instead, she says, “What did he say? What did he do?”Camille pours herself a lemonade, gulps it then slams down the empty glass, “Oh, nothing much! He just only got tickets to some fancy-shmancy music thingie and needs a partner and…”“DOES he?” her mother interjects hopefully.“Yes! He does! So he asks Fidel but he’s babysitting for Juliet that night…”“What night?”“July 21st and…”“Oh, yes, I’m hosting her group that night. Thank you for reminding me.”“Glad I can help! So Fidel says no and then Dwayne says no and then…”Catherine’s eyes widen with dismay, “And then YOU said no?”Camille’s fists crash down onto the bar, “NO!! He turned to me and said… and said…”Catherine hasn’t seen such anger in her baby girl since she was five and fighting with Aimee over a favourite toy! She takes a small breath and says, “Just spit it out. What did he say?”Camille swallows convulsively and grits out, “He asked if YOU might go with him! Oooo, how dare he ask me to ask you to go on a date with him! The nerve! The unmitigated gall! My own mother!”Catherine quickly pours Camille another glass of lemonade, “Here, cool down. I’m sure he only thinks of me as someone worldly enough to appreciate the music. I’m sure he was going to ask you next… but you didn’t stay to give him the chance, did you?”Camille’s eyes flare, “Stay? Why? What for? I couldn’t care less if he goes alone to this stuffed-shirt concert. It serves him right! He’s so rude and stroppy and boring! He deserves to be alone!”Catherine shakes her head and murmurs, “But, Cherie, what if he ISN’T alone, hmm? There are plenty of women who would like to spend an educational evening with such a gentleman, n’est-ce pas? I know YOU don’t get along with him but that’s because you know him so well. Other women don’t know him at all and they’d go with him in a heartbeat.”Camille throws her head back, “Yeah? Like who? Who’s crazy enough to go anywhere with him?”“Well,” her Maman says slowly, “I see him in the library with junior librarians always buzzing around him. And in the shops; the bakery, the green-grocer, the butcher…”Camille’s head comes up at this, “The butcher? Miss Lambe? Oh, yeah, she’s a piece of work, all right but he isn’t her type. Why would she bother with him?”“I have it on good authority that she saves all the best cuts of British beef for him. Her uncle complains about it all the time but he hasn’t stopped her because…” Here, she swivels a keen eye to Camille and pauses.Camille can’t help herself, “Because why?” A worried little line is showing between her brows now.“Because the butcher thinks having a Police Chief in the family would be a good thing,” Catherine softly says and looks out a window. She watches the street for quite a while before Camille comes back to sudden life.“Oh, um, I see, and this is going on right here in town, you say?”Catherine nods, “From what I hear and see and infer; it’s going on all over the island. It’s almost a bit of a game. Perhaps bets are being taken for all I know.” She waits a beat then drives home the knife, “You think you know a person… but then you see them in a slightly different light… you see inner qualities that you maybe previously overlooked… qualities such as commitment, trust, loyalty.” She flicks an eye to Camille, “You never really see a person until you see them through another’s eyes, maybe.”Camille stares at her mother for long moments before she sits back abruptly. “Gee, look at the time! I’ve got to get back to work. Bye!!” and she’s gone.
END - part 1
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Part 2 of 2Back at the StationRichard is ending a phone call when he hears someone clattering up the outside steps. He looks up to see what emergency is approaching at such speed but then the noise stops. He’s just getting up to investigate when Camille saunters in all slouchy and nonchalant and carefree. “Who on earth was rushing up the stairs?” he asks her, half-risen out of his chair.She gives him a bland look and glances out the door, “I dunno, I don’t see anyone.” She turns back to him, “But Maman can’t go with you either so it looks like you’re stuck with me, sorry.”“Oh,” he sighs and sinks back into his chair then brightens, “Will you wear the red dress?”She blinks at him, “For MUS-ic? No, of course not! That dress is for special occasions only, blind dates and such. I have a perfectly nice slack and blouse set that will do. Will there be dinner?”“Yes,” he answers, “there’s a pre-show dinner included in the event. All good English tucker. You’ll have a chance to enjoy a Yorkshire pudding! Lucky you!”“Yeah,” she grouses, “lucky me.” But then she cheers up. At least she’ll have him all to herself for most of the evening and the butcher’s niece will have to cast her nets further adrift. This particular little minnow is spoken for!The next few weeksThe days are spent being told how lucky she is to have such a magical opportunity for musical accompaniment. She even takes a book and some CDs out of the library in self-defense. She listens very carefully but she just doesn’t get it. English romantic classical music... a foreign concept if ever there was one! The day before the big event, she complains to her mother, “Oh, I can’t wait for this to be over! He’s so excited and it’s just boring music!”“Maybe he’s excited about something else?”“Yeah, like what?”“Like a romantic night out with you, you imbecile! Honestly, I sometimes wonder if you’re my daughter at all! You’re going out together with no corpses or murders or suspects or anything! He’s going to be alone with you. You’re having a quiet dinner together. You’re listening to romantic music. You’re driving him home afterwards. It’s perfect!”Camille holds up a finger, “Un moment! We won’t be alone. We’re in a dining room and then a concert hall with about a hundred other people. And I’m not driving him home. He’s getting a taxi.”Catherine grips her daughter’s hand, “Non, mon petite idiot, YOU are driving him home or I will disown you forever! This is your chance to capture him. Don’t you dare waste it!”Camille pulls her hand free, “Maman! It’s just music! ENGLISH music! It doesn’t mean anything.”“Then why has there been a run on fancy dresses all week in the shops, hmm? Why have several young and not so young women booked hair appointments today? I’ve asked about and I’ve heard some alarming things. Did you know this soiree sold out within days of him receiving his tickets?”“Oh, Maman, I’m sure that’s just a coincidence.” Now there are TWO lines between her brows.Catherine flounces away, calling over her shoulder, “Perhaps, who knows, not me! I’m just a French Maman with a single French daughter who is long past her ‘best by’ date and here’s a perfectly good man going to waste! I have no opinion on the matter one way or the other!”Camille stomps out of La Kaz in a fury, heading for home. It’s time to shower and get dressed and meet him for the dinner. As she slows down and starts to ponder on her mother’s unexpected words, she can’t help noticing some of the local women in shops all the way up the street.They seem… atwitter.“It doesn’t mean anything!” she tells herself. “I’m being paranoid! Maman has put evil thoughts into my head and I can’t let her trick me into thinking this is anything except a coincidence. He has two tickets and no one else would go with him so I’m doing a good deed and it will be very boring and that’s all there is to it! So there!!”At the pre-symphony dinnerWomen are vying for Richard’s attention. Camille can no longer deny the evidence of her own incredulous eyes. Some are polite about it. Others are NOT, the butcher’s niece being to worst! During the after-dinner drinks, she steps between Richard and Camille and vamps him until his eyes glaze over. Camille almost abandons him to his fate… but simply can’t throw him to the wolf like this. She steps forward, bumping the young woman aside totally accidentally and chirps, “Inspector, the Fire Chief would like a word.” At Richard’s blank look, she adds, “You know, about that emergency evacuation plan of yours? The one that is so important that the Fire Chief needs to talk to you RIGHT NOW?” She cocks an eyebrow to drive home the fact that this is a bald-faced lie!Richard’s face clears in thankful relief as he figures it out, “He would? Well, certainly, of course. Excuse us, Miss Lambe,” and he steps smartly away with Camille. Moments later, as she steers him through the crowd, he says low, “Thank you… and where are we going exactly?”“Away from HER,” Camille growls. She’s had enough... she feels under-dressed and out-shone by glamorous women in fancy dress and makeup and hairdos. She doesn’t think music is on the minds of ALL the people here tonight. The sneaks! Maman was right. She spies the Fire Chief with his wife, the head librarian, and hustles Richard right over to them. As the men make small talk, Camille mutters to Mrs. Hellman, “Please keep him out of the clutches of all these circling sharks, will you? I need to go home but I’ll be right back.”Mrs. Hellman smiles and nods, “Certainly, my dear. This turned into quite a single’s night, didn’t it?”“Yes, it DID!” Camille grouses as she excuses herself and rushes home. When she returns 30 minutes later, she’s tricked out in her best Parisian Glamour Puss style. Heads turns all along her path back into the hall. She makes her way to Richard’s side and proceeds to prove herself her mother’s daughter after all by putting her contenders into deepest darkest shade.Mr. Hellman grins as he watches her glide closer, his wife’s hand tightening on his arm. “Someone’s here to talk to you, Richard. We’ll leave you now.”As the Hellman’s move away, Richard groans. Where is Camille when I really NEED her? Why did she have to rush off like that, leaving me on my own? If not for the Hellman’s, goodness knows what kind of trouble I’d be in right now! He closes his eyes, pins a fake smile on his face, and turns.Turns and is gob-smacked... ambushed... steam-rolled... spellbound.He vaguely remembers being led by a heavenly vision into the concert hall where he thinks there is noise of some kind. He remembers cool night air on his burning face. He remembers a silent ride in the back of a taxi with a hot little hand somewhere unexpected. He remembers soft surf and moonlight on gently heaving waters. As she lays him down, he definitely remembers murmuring, “Smitten, I’m smitten, this is what it feels like to die.”“I’ll take that as encouragement,” a low voice purrs in his ear.Gob-smacked, ambushed, steam-rolled, spellbound... and smitten. By night’s end he’s still all of those things plus one more… blissfully shagged.The beast is soothed good and proper.END
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
He Doesn’t Dance
The team is liming quietly at La Kaz. It’s a full house but very peaceful, full of low talk and soft music. The team is celebrating another spectacular case resolution and this time it’s Fidel being feted as he provided the missing clue. Dwayne is teasing the young man about turning into a ‘new Chief’ when, suddenly, Richard’s laugh booms out, deep and confident and visceral. Camille’s head shoots up off her palm where she’d been so dreamily gazing at him like a moon-calf. Her trained eye skims over the room. For a moment nothing changes and she takes half a breath of relief before that breath rattles to a stop as she sees subtle movement.There! Oh, and over there! And now across the room! Feminine heads are lifting, searching, questing. Camille’s eyes widen. Oh, no, there’s three of them! Three women who heard something special, sensed something special, FELT something special… in Richard’s laugh. Her eyes start to smolder as she catches first one, then the other, then the third pair of inquisitive eyes – and she sends a thunderbolt to each in turn. Don’t you DARE! He’s worked hard all week, missing meals and sleep in order to solve this case and he doesn’t need YOU bothering him on his first moment of relaxation!Two of the women get the message. One turns back to her companion. The second waits a beat then nods small before she, too, turns back to her table. But the third… the third frowns and lifts her dimpled little chin in defiance, tossing her curls into the bargain. She couldn’t have waved a redder flag in front of a madder bull if she tried! Ignoring the steam beginning to curl out of Camille’s ears, this hussy slowly stands, smooths down her too short skirt, and sashays across the floor to arrive at the team’s table to stand right behind Richard’s chair.Dwayne notices the mad look in Camille’s eye and whirls around, expecting to see something awful, or at least unlawful, but all he sees is a very attractive woman smiling that special smile that Dwayne knows all about. He sits up alertly, “Hey there, young miss, kin I help you?”Fidel looks from the woman to Camille and back to the woman. He may be married and have two years of husband-training under his belt but even he cannot decide what’s happening here. Something sure is, though. He can feel static electricity standing all the hair on his arms. He puts a cautious hand onto Dwayne’s shoulder but Dwayne ignores him.“Are you lookin’ fer some help?” Dwayne queries then grins, “Or fer some company?”Richard, his back still to the woman, groans low, “Really, Officer Myers, MUST you flirt in front of me? I find it most unsettling.” But before Dwayne can answer, the woman speaks.“Why, yes, Officer, you CAN help me,” the stranger simpers, “You can introduce me to this handsome man right here.” She places both hands onto the back of Richard’s chair and looks down on him with avarice.The blank look on Dwayne’s face is almost worth the heat Camille feels right below her breastbone. Almost, but not quite. Since Dwayne can’t seem to parse the woman’s request, and Richard has whirled around in surprise to look up at the woman, and the woman’s eyes have flared upon seeing the brilliant green there, Camille feels obligated to speak for the group. “This man is the Chief of Police, we’re his team, and we’re liming, just the four of us.”Richard nods, “Yes, Miss, we’re relaxing as colleagues before calling it a night.”Now the woman smiles and leans down close to the suit’s shoulder, “Oh, well then, there’s nothing more relaxing than slow dancing. Will you dance with me, Mr. Chief of Police?” Her hips move in syncopation as the popular tune ‘Liquidator’ begins to throb through the room. You can tell that she fully expects Richard to jump to his feet in eager acceptance.Camille’s anger morphs into cold dread when she sees something on his face that shocks her. Oh – my – god, he’s going to get up! He’s spurned my every attempt to get him to dance with me… but he’s going to get up with this harlot! Her entire body stiffens in betrayal.Just as Richard opens his mouth to reply, just as his hands flex as if to push himself up out of his chair, Camille’s arm flashes out and clamps itself across the back of that chair, effectively knocking the woman back a step. Camille leans hard, blasting a hot challenging stare up into wide thwarted eyes, and says real low, “Sorry, ma’am, but there’s only one single man at this table able to dance with you.” She nods to Dwayne without dropping her gaze.Richard sits back carefully in his chair. He’s seen that look on Camille’s face before… always right before a huge fight. Something has got her back up and he doesn’t know what it is. He glances from Camille to the woman and back again. Then he frowns. Can it be? No, surely not! He looks to Fidel. Fidel shakes his head very small, motioning with his hands for his boss to sit still. Richard thinks about this then folds his hands atop the table and stills. Now the three men’s eyes ping-pong back and forth as the two women continue to confront one another.“I didn’t ask if he’s single, I asked if he wants to dance.”“He doesn’t dance.”“Says who?”“Says me.”“How do you know?”“Because I… um…” and for the first time ever, Richard hears hesitation in Camille’s voice. Now he listens very carefully. Without looking back, Camille feels his gaze like ants on her skin. She has to say something… but what? Inspiration comes. “Because I invited him to dance when he first got here and he told me he does NOT dance. He never lies… so he doesn’t dance.”“Just because he won’t dance with you doesn’t mean he won’t dance with me!”A low growl is the only reply from Camille’s side of the table. Dwayne and Fidel lean away, eyes askance. A sudden kick to the shin under the table makes Richard jump and he turns back to the woman hovering above him, “She’s right, Miss, I don’t dance. Please accept my apologies and return to your table. People are watching and I must insist on public order.”The woman stares at him for a moment longer then flashes an angry look to the other three team members, ending up with another visual contest with Camille. Which she loses. Finally, she tosses her curls once more, “Well! This is some welcome to the island, I MUST say!” and she flounces back to her table.Fidel swallows audibly then turns to his boss, “Boy, you’re lucky the Commissioner wasn’t here to see that! You know how he feels about ‘island hospitality’ and tourists and everything.”Dwayne nods, “Yeah, Chief, he’d have yer badge fer being unfriendly.”Richard frowns, “Do you really think so? Would I really be in trouble?”Dwayne nods again, “That’s why I take such care of visitors, Chief. I never turn down a dance.”Richard eyes his older officer, “Mmm-hmm, I see. You’re just being a good citizen, is that it?”Dwayne smiles, “Yes, aye, jest doin’ my civic duty. Gotta keep the tourists happy, hey?”Richard dekes a lightning glance to his DS who is just relaxing from her ninja-stance at his side, “Oh, well, perhaps you’re right, Dwayne. I mustn’t appear to be unfriendly, must I?” He crosses his arms and sits back with aplomb. “So be it. I will definitely dance with whoever asks me next. Mustn’t disappoint the public, yes?”Camille stiffens in her chair and whirls on him, “Hey! Nobody said you have to…”Richard nods, “Oh, but, Camille, I do have to. For all I know that woman is going to file a complaint at Government House tomorrow morning about my bad manners. In fact…” he sits up alertly, “… I should find that woman and make amends. After all, a dance won’t kill me.”Camille grips her chair arms with white knuckles and gasps, “No, but it just might kill ME.”Richard leans towards her, his eyes roving over the room, “Excuse me, did you say something?”Camille clamps her eyes tight shut and growls, “No, I didn’t say anything.”Richard nods to himself and slowly stands, smoothing down his tie, “I didn’t think so. That woman seems to have left. I’m going out into the street to see if I can track her down. See you all in the morning.” He turns and strides purposefully out the front door.Fidel gasps, “What’s gotten into him? He NEVER goes looking for feminine company! NEVER!”Dwayne sucks his lip, “Not that we know of, Fidel, not that we know of. He could cruise the bars after he leaves work. He could have a different woman back at his place every night. His house is awful isolated an’ that beach is awful deserted. Anything could happen out there.”Camille shoots to her feet, startling her companions. She turns mad whirling eyes onto them as she stutters, “You’re right! You’re absolutely right! Anything could happen to him and we’d never know. He could come to all kinds of harm without any possibility of rescue. I think I’ll go keep an eye on him, just in case. He IS the Chief of Police, not some pretty dance-boy, right?”Dwayne nods, pats her tense arm, “Right, Sarge, right. You better hurry. There’s no tellin’ how far he’s got or who he’s with right now. He could be in danger already, hey?”She doesn’t even bother to reply. Her eyes widen and her face darkens and she is gone out the door lickety-split!Fidel frowns, “Dwayne, why would you say a thing like that? The Chief is the most cautious man I know! Of course he’s not going to consort with dangerous types. Especially women-types! They’re the most dangerous of all.”Dwayne grins, “Oh, I know that, Fidel, a course I do. But I think he got a glimpse a sumpthin’ tonight an’ I think she got a major nudge in the right direction. If I’m right, he’s gonna be dancin’ tonight... just not in town... an’ certainly not with the woman who tried t’ pick him up.”Fidel sighs, “Who? Camille is guarding him. He’s got no chance of finding a partner now.”Dwayne laugh, claps the young man on the shoulder, “I’ll explain it t’ you in the mornin'.” He escorts Fidel out onto the street where there is a marked absence of their DI and his DS. Dwayne nods happily, “Yes, tomorrow could be very interestin’.”
END
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
But You’re a Lady!Part 1 of 6DS Camille Bordey is having a Bad day - a bad hair day (don’t ask), a bad wardrobe day (plaids and stripes go together, right?), a bad shoe day (a frayed strap barely holding together), a bad breakfast day (no coffee!!!), and a bad lurching dash-to-work day (thanks to the shoes).The VERY last thing she needs is for a certain someone to say something… well, ANYthing really. She’s sure to either blast off into outer space or melt into a puddle of tears… because it’s also bad enough her days are full of him but now so are her nights. Oh, yeah, you can add ‘lack of proper beauty sleep’ to her long list of troubles. So, when she finally makes it to the station’s door (damn these shoes!), the very LAST thing she needs today just naturally has to be the very FIRST thing she hears today.A low voice. Oh, great, he’s already upset about something. No… wait... not him... it’s TWO voices, muttering, and they don’t sound happy. The fact that it’s Dwayne and Fidel doesn’t surprise her much. The Englishman gets on their nerves too – but for entirely different reasons. What DOES surprise her is what those muttering voices are saying!“Yeah, he don’ yell at her like he yells at us. We should say sumpthin’.”“Like what? Are you volunteering to march up and say ‘Sir, we can’t help but notice that you’re giving preferential treatment to one of your team and not to us?’”“ME?? Oh, no way, uh uh, not me! It has t’ be you. He respects you.”“Oh yeah? Like the time he ‘respected’ me at the top of his lungs during Solly’s case? I didn’t sleep a WINK that night! It still smarts to think about it.”“Mebee it smarts but yer smarter FOR it, ain’t ya? You’ll never make THAT mistake again.”“No, I never will, but you’re older than me, with street smarts and all the semi-criminal contacts that help solve so many cases! The Chief respects you way more’n me so YOU should be the one to talk to him. Besides, you look cool on the bike!”“Lookin’ cool on the bike didn’ save me frum the chewin’ out I got over Nadia Selim, did it? No! The man looked at me like I wuz a BUG! I never felt so small an’ stupid. It wuz a humblin’ experience I hope I never hafta feel again.”“You won’t. You’ve learned too, haven’t you? We both have… but it doesn’t change anything. We still have a problem. She can do anything she likes and he NEVER…”That’s when Camille ‘blasts off’ and not at the person she thought she would blast off at! She throws up her head and storms into the station from around the door jamb where she’d been eavesdropping shamelessly, her scowl darkest thunder. “He never WHAT??!!”The two men jump and clutch each other. Then they grin and heave huge sighs of relief. Her eyes narrow and now there’s also lightning in the air but the men are too distracted to notice.Poor them.Dwayne chuckles, “Oh! Camille, you gave us a scare! We thought you wuz him.” Fidel nods but his smile begins to slip as he studies her face (he IS a husband, after all). His surreptitious warning taps on Dwayne’s forearm go unheeded as Dwayne incautiously burbles, “We wuz discussin’ the Chief an’ we all know he don’ like bein’ talked about.”Fidel’s taps turn into full-fisted thumpings but it’s too late. Storm Bordey has reached critical mass. She stiffens, clamps fists onto hips, juts out a French chin, takes the shooter’s stance… and lets blast! “You think I get preferential treatment, is that it? You think I batt my eyes and simper and I get anything I want, hey? Well, let me tell YOU, I’m a decorated officer, top of my class, trusted by my superiors in every position I ever had. I work hard and I study whenever I’m not working. If you think I got to where I am simply by being a WO-man, then you… you…”Her rant peters out. NOT due to the wide-eyed frozen looks she’s getting (she’s used to this look, she’s induced it in almost every male officer she’s ever worked with). Her voice tapers off because something in Dwayne’s eyes alerts her to perhaps another reason behind all this. She cocks her head and her face hardens.Dwayne’s eyes widen and he gulps as his head starts to make rapid little shakes. Fidel looks from Camille to Dwayne and back again, something is going on and he doesn’t know what. “Naw,” Dwayne moans low, “naw, naw, naw, I never thought THAT! I would NEVER…”She hisses like a boil of snakes, “But you DO, Dwayne Myers, you DO!!! How COULD you!!!”When Dwayne doesn’t speak, Fidel whispers, “What? What don’t you think?” He turns to Camille, “What doesn’t Dwayne think?” He swallows drily, “Do I think it too?”“No, Fidel,” Camille grits through clenched teeth, “YOU’re too much a gentleman, just like your mentor… but…” her finger lashes out, pointing right between Dwayne’s swimming eyes, “… but THIS one thinks… he thinks I… that I…”“Don’ say it,” Dwayne begs, “please don’ say it! I’m sorry, Sarge! Itza Monday, we wuz just belly-achin’, we didn’ mean nuthin’ by it, honest!”Fidel is still waiting for an answer so Camille gives it to him. She is suddenly a very betrayed and sorrowful colleague as she groans, “Dwayne thinks I slept my way to where I am today.”Fidel’s eyes flare and he gives a startled laugh, “No! Oh, no, Camille, I’m sure…” He gestures to Dwayne but his hand stops mid-air as he sees the look on Dwayne’s face. He swivels around, his own eyes outraged, “Dwayne!!! You don’t! You really don’t, do you?”Under the full force of both pairs of eyes, Dwayne begins to squirm, “Um, no! A’course not! It’s just that… just that…”Camille takes a menacing step at the stuttering man and growls low, “It’s just… what?”Fidel nods, “Yeah, Dwayne, why would you say something so crazy? The Chief would NEVER sleep…” but his sentence is chopped off by a swift kick to the shins. “OW!!” he roars, hopping on one leg. “What the hell, Dwayne? What’s gotten into you?”Dwayne doesn’t answer. His gaze is fixed on Camille as he watches her assume DS mode. He knows he has to explain himself or face something worse than words. “OK,” he sighs heavily, “No, I don’ think you slept yer way t’ get where you are now, a course I don’t. Anyone who knows you knows what a fine officer you are. Yer tops in yer field for the simple reason that yer tops. But, Camille, you HAVE t’ admit that you get special treatment here, right?”If anything, her eyes get hotter. Now her arms are tightly crossed as she dips her head and gives him the full Bordey-Blast with both barrels. “WHAT do you mean by that, exactly?”Dwayne wilts. Few men can withstand this challenging look. After all, she learned it from a master. “Look, all we wuz sayin’ is…”Fidel shakes his head, “Oh, no no no, don’t you drag ME into this. I would NEVER think such a thing! Never! First of all, the Chief would never sleep…” only to get a second kick for his troubles. He snaps his mouth shut. After all, as his wife always says, if you can’t say anything nice about someone…Camille levels that full-bore glare at Fidel and he freezes. “But, Fidel, I HEARD you. You asked Dwayne if he was volunteering to talk to DI Poole about the preferential treatment one of his officers is getting.” She smiles coldly to have pinned Fidel so tightly into a corner… then her smile evaporates as something ELSE suddenly registers. “And what do you mean ‘the Chief would never sleep’...? Never sleep... when? Or where? Or…!”Fidel looks ready to bolt out the nearest door but Dwayne is braver (or much surer of his calming effect on women, it’s hard to say with that man) so he stutters back to life, “All we wuz SAYIN’ is… well, not t’ paddle round the reef or anythin’ but you said it yerself… the Chief is a gentleman an’ yer a woman an’ gentleman don’ yell at women. There, I said it an’ it’s true, yer a woman an’ he don’ yell at you like he yells at us. We all know it, don’ we, Fidel?”Despite his survival instincts, Fidel nods. He’s entitled to his opinion, isn’t he? At her furious look, he gulps and wonders if he IS entitled to his opinion after all. Maybe not.Camille is just winding herself up for a really good rant, maybe even a Poole-approved rant, when the subject of this hullabaloo bustles in, his briefcase leading the way. As he charges through the small tableau, he barks out, “Why are you all standing around? We’re on duty!” He thumps his case onto his desk and looks up at three pairs of alarmed eyes.He frowns briefly then flaps a hand at the men, “You two, aren’t you supposed to be on patrol? Hop to it! Chop chop! Crime never takes a back seat and goldbricking isn’t an option. Off you go before I write you both up for dereliction of duty!” He pulls files out of his case then says in a totally different voice, “Camille, I need your help with a witness statement.” He continues unpacking files and totally misses the flying glares, nods, grimaces, and waving hands that streak between the other three people in the room.Finally, Dwayne stalks to his desk, slaps his hat on and monotones, “C’mon, Officer Best, you ‘n me are obviously not doin’ our jobs. We don’t want t’ get yelled at or nuthin’, DO we?”Fidel returns Camille’s startled glance stoically, “No, Officer Myers, we surely do not.” With matching commiserating looks to one another, the officers file out, backs stiff with insult.End – part 1