Fan Fic 5
It had been two weeks since Phryne and Jack had comes to terms with how they felt about each other. Jack had come to grips with the fact that Phryne was the one who had made the headlines for saving him from Big Al and dispatching the loathsome man. Somehow he didn't mind. Phryne spent the first week in bed. The fever weakened her a lot more than she would admit. He visited her every day and properly sat on a chair perfectly positioned by Mr. Butler for viewing the love of his life. She'd be her usual indefatigable self soon. He on the other hand, felt self-conscious about his head. The hair was beginning to grow in now, but the long slim scar was as itchy as hell. Mac had just removed the sutures not long before. It wasn't as painful, but the wound tended to throb whenever Phryne wanted to get out of bed. And physically assault him in broad daylight. Whenever she tried to move towards him he gripped the sides of his chair making noises about having to get back to the courthouse. He secretly prayed that for the rest of life his head wound wouldn't be some kind of silent alarm where Phryne was concerned. He knew they loved each other. That's all he cared about. She had indeed saved his life. There wasn't a more grateful man on the planet!
The trial of Little Al had begun. He and Hugh were inseparable as Big Al's death caused a firestorm in the Melbourne underworld as well as ripples of hatred for the inspector throughout the Victoria constabulary bureaucracy. He needed dear, loyal Hugh for protection, but didn't tell Dot as to why they were always in each other's company since Dot was pregnant with their first child. He didn't know who else he could trust as the trial and the evidence he'd been amassing turned over a good many rocks. The citizens of Melbourne were certainly horrified by all that had shimmied and wriggled out from under those rocks. The facts were now being brought into the eviscerating sunlight in the headlines in the daily newspapers.
Sitting at the back of the courtroom as all the preliminaries were read aloud, Jack remembered how on first meeting Phryne that he had boasted he was "a man with a plan". Well, this was the denouement of that plan. And with the backing of the commissioner and even the governor, he was attempting to shake the rats out of the police force. A good many heads would roll. They and their solicitors were lined up on one side of the aisle. The prosecutors and the many witnesses, those Little Al couldn't managed to order killed from jail, were all there. He knew those slated for the dock hated Phryne just as much a he since she saved him from being silenced. The trial would be a lengthy one and occupy nearly everyone in town with endless gossip. Even hurtful gossip about the inspector's relationship with the lady detective. Regardless of what reached Phryne, she nightly told him that she couldn't have been more proud of anyone in her entire life!
Strangely enough Jack thought, in the last week, they didn't talk a lot about their future together or what form it might take. Honestly he didn't care as long as they were together. He could see them working together side by side continuing to solve cases. The only obstacle could be the attitude of the commissioner towards that idea at the end of all this. He was slightly apprehensive since he knew he couldn't stop Phryne from her detecting. After all, she was positively brilliant at it! There it went. Once and then again. His scar was throbbing. He took it as a sign to stop wallowing in a possible negative outcome of the corruption trial. He just wanted to be a man again. A man in love. Rosie had deeply retreated to the back of his mind. He knew he had disappointed Rosie. His youthful ardor had cooled. There would be no children. The contrast to the woman he had married before the war and promised to love and cherish and the one he loved so differently now was immediately palpable. War had changed him. But Phryne...knowing Phryne, talking to Phryne, working with Phryne, letting her tease him, look into his eyes, touch him ever so gently with her fingers on his hands, his arms, his chest, even his lips…she had changed him. She had given him his life back. A life beyond work. Beyond painful memories. A life filled with blush-inducing innuendo, daring outfits, wild ideas, inconvenient frissons, and a perpetually open hand asking him to join her. In his mind, they were already lovers. Like Beatrice and Benedict, it was something they had to work through. This platonic engaging and enrapturing foreplay that truthfully, he quite enjoyed no matter how off balance she could make him. No help from friends or a jealous Prince for the two of them. They had done what seemed to him like an endless dance. Sometimes at times a frenzied flailing, but at the end of it, the waltz. But the obfuscations ended that night at Mac's cottage. The dizzying back and forth had ended though he could clearly think of ways to make her dizzy again, but this time it would be based on a love declared and acknowledged. One thing he knew for sure. She needed to buy a new mattress!
Phryne didn't know where Jack was taking her, but she was grateful that the long weeks of trial had finally ended. The Commissioner told him to take some time off. A goodly portion of the constabulary was now in prison. One particular captain was headed for the gallows along with Little Al. A citation from the governor was next and all the handshakes were captured for all of the newspapers. She was still worried as they headed off to celebrate as she recalled the looks some on the force reserved for Jack when he wasn't looking. Phryne made it a point not to show up at the courthouse in the final days before the sentencings. She thought, and rightly so, that Jack should have the spotlight. Phryne thought of other inmates now. Jack's former father-in-law and Rosi's ex-fiance. She felt deep sympathy for Rosie at that moment wondering if she too thought that perhaps…..had become close to her to advance his various business interests with her father. Abandoned by two men she loved. Rosie returned to her sister's house after the final divorce decree was read. She had married a grade school sweetheart who had been widowed by the Spanish Flu. Jack let her read what might very well be her final letter to him shortly after the wedding. Rosie was happy. She was pregnant. The farm her husband owned was doing well. Her tone was buoyant.
The lines that struck her the most on this recalling and made her tear up even now as she took in the sea air…"Jack, please believe me when I tell you that I don't blame you. I don't blame you for any of it. I no longer feel ashamed about my father and -. People here have accepted me as Ben's wife. All the strings to Melbourne have now been cut. I know after the war you had changed. I should have changed, but wanted the man I married instead. That was very foolish of me. I know that now. I realized in marrying Ben that I had changed, too. I love Ben. And I'm determined to be happy. I saw how much in love you and Phryne were at the footy game. I knew there was no going back for me. I want you and Phryne to be happy. I couldn't wish you otherwise." And with that final thought darting across the front her mind, Jack pulled up to Mac's holiday cottage.
Mac sounded like she was giving out orders in a modern-day ER. Her last two were rushed and directed at Bert. "We'll have to take the taxi if we're going to make decent time. Could you put some firewood in the trunk? Maybe enough to last for a day or two? Also, tell Dot to find two pillows for the inspector. It's important that we keep his head from jostling or those 32 sutures in his head may break loose once we hit the coastal road." Everyone had responded without questioning. Jack appreciated that to no end. Jack just wanted to find her. Find out that she was safe. He let the good doctor lead him to the taxi and prop his head against the side of the door. He was immediately grateful that it wasn't the open top Hispano for the first time in his life!
It was very late and the street lights off the main road were few and far between. Mac drove with an urgency she had never known before, but had admired so in Phryne. Jack winced at every pothole, but he had endured unimaginable pain on the battlefields of France and later in the field hospital. He was ten years older now though, and he would just have to grit his teeth until he could rest again. He drifted in and out of a half sleep. His mind could not shake off Hugh's whisper as he left the house. Hugh had told everyone what Phryne had uttered as she passed him on the ramp. He hadn't told anyone but the inspector that her last word was "Janey". Jack knew what it meant. It meant that he had to get to her quickly. She believed at that moment that she had failed them both. The two people she loved the most in the world. God, what would it do to her?
Mac knew about them. She had known way before Phryne had yelled that hurtful "Sayonara!" to him at the medical college. Mac seemed to know both of them so well at this point that all dissemblance was useless. Jack could recall fleeting looks of annoyance on her face whenever their verbal repartees began. He believed at this very moment though that she understood the hesitation, the pure self-protection they had both practiced for low these almost three years. He remembered the compliment she paid him after she had managed to reconcile them. He knew she loved them both. What he didn't know was how much Mac respected him. His honor. His resolve. His restraint. His patience. His sheer endurance as her lovers came and went. He waited for Phryne. And she couldn't imagine, stealing a glance at that wounded face and that tightly bandaged head, that her friend was lost to him before it could all even begin for the two of them.
The road closer to the sea seemed to smooth out for a stretch. The familiar landmarks checked off one by one in Mac's brain. She was getting anxious. Not just for her friend, but for the memories associated with their destination. She hadn't been there since it happened. The chilled sea air was now pouring through the taxi's open windows.
Her parents had left her their old holiday cottage. It was in a fine position with a view over the scruffy dunes to the sea. It seemed to catch all the light from sunrise to sunset. Daisy had loved it. It had been "their place". Before she brought Daisy to the house for the first time she went about all manner of improvements. Nearly every surface received a new coat of paint. The chimney was repaired. It finally had INDOOR plumbing and even a new stove and icebox. Daisy contributed fresh linens, slipcovers for her parents old furniture and the odd pot and pan to round out the needs in the kitchen. Everything was there as if they'd been castaway and never needed to see another living soul. She recalled these bits of bliss and she roughly wiped away the tears running done her cheeks. It was a place of refuge. That was the word she always used when she talked with Phryne about it. Refuge. Maybe that's why she thought of this place? She prayed that that's what it offered Phryne at this time of infinite distress and heartache.
It was the middle of the night now and the cold air roused the inspector. The remoteness of the area in the off-season made him fidget in distress. He tried to control his breathing. Mac reached over and squeezed his hand and assured him they were almost there. It was the longest car ride of his life. Longer than his voyage to France and back again. The looks of everyone in Phryne's parlor had crossed his mind during the ride. THEY ALL KNEW NOW. Hugh seemed slightly surprised. Dot less so. Bert and Cec's grins meant they had suspected, but they were deeply concerned that this was the result. The most knowing look came from Mr. Butler. The ever-present silent observer. He probably picked up on the fact that they were in love months ago. Maybe before. All Jack knew was that he just had to see her. To hold her. To show her that yes, YOU DID SAVE ME. That shot you fired had deflected Giardello's arm enough for the bullet to miss Jack's forehead and burn through his scalp instead. But he was alive. The fact that she had mentioned Janey as she fled, the fact that she couldn't even take a single step towards him when she was convinced that he was dead, made his brain burn so hotly with concern that he had to steady his head with his hand.
In moments they were in sight of the house. The headlights caught the length of the Hispano parked rakishly by the side of road. Bless Mac that she had guessed that this is where she might be. They both immediately locked eyes. There were no lights on in the house. Mac headed for the house. Jack grabbed his flashlight and headed for the beach. Each hard footfall in the damp sand rebounded painfully in his head along with every prayer he knew. He grimly admitted to himself that there could be a pile of clothes at the end of his flashlight somewhere. The high moon gave him a long view down the cove. The sea was calm. There was, thankfully, no sign that she had ever been on the beach. He quickly doubled back to the house raising the collar of his overcoat against the sea air. The hat Phryne had gifted him was back at the house. There was no way it would fit over the bandages. The wind carried Mac's cries out to him. He ran as fast as he could. Taking the gangplank from the road to the house in only two steps, Jack helped Mac flip the fusebox switch and the lights came on. She MUST be here. They searched the few rooms quickly, but they were empty. Only one more possibility. She led Jack to the unlit porch off the bedroom and they both stopped breathing. Phryne was there. She was curled up on a bench unprotected from the night air. And she wasn't moving.
Jack lunged forward to lift her, but Mac stopped him. Lifting her would surely burst his sutures. She could only handle one patient at at time. Slowly Mac turned her. Her face was marred by make-up blurred by tears. Her eyes were swollen from hours of crying. Her breathing was shallow. She was so very pale. Jack removed her black cap and Mac touched her forehead. She had a fever. A very high fever. The kind of fever resulting from severe shock. The kind of fever that could kill. Mac and Jack slowly coaxed Phryne to a standing position. She didn't open her eyes, but starting speaking. Jack heard bits and pieces. "I couldn't save him, you know. I was too late. I loved him more than myself, just like Janey, but I couldn't save them." Jack was suddenly angry at himself. He could have told her about his investigation. He could have confided in her the way he always did. Instead he thought he was doing the right thing by protecting her so she wouldn't be placed in harm's way. Instead, even without telling her about the case, she had managed to save his life. Now he was determined to save her right back!
Mac and Jack slowly got her onto the bed. Phryne's eyes flickered open for just a moment, but there was no recognition in them. Jack went back to the taxi and brought in the baskets. He deposited the hamper from Dot with the doctor and went out and retrieved the rest of the supplies they had brought along. While Mac changed her into the warm clothes Dot had knowingly packed for her, he decided it was his job to start a fire in the fireplace and try and take the chill off the house.
When Mac returned to the living room he could see the worry on her face. He followed her movements as she sat on the edge of the sofa. I need to try and break the fever. There was no ice in the icebox since the electricity has been off. Jack became frantic. How about sea water? It's icy cold now. Do you have any buckets? I could go and retrieve the water and we could take turns sitting with her for as long as it takes. It seemed like a plan. But there was something else Mac wasn't saying and Jack demanded to know. His plan may work, but "What if she didn't want to live?" Jack shivered at the thought and tried to immediately dismiss it from his mind. She was so strong. So strong. Had he broken her and now sapped that same strength she needed to survive? With a sharp intake of breath, he looked imploringly at Mac, "What do you want me to do?"
When he came back into the house with the two buckets of icy water, it seemed warmer. He left his overcoat in the kitchen and joined Mac in the bedroom. She had managed to prop Phryne up onto the pillows. She was glistening with sweat now. Her face was scarlet and her lips were dry. Once in a while her head moved and she whispered his name or Janey's. Mac had cleared the nightstand and placed a large basin on it. Jack handed her the sea water and she filled it to the brim. She had collected every hand towel in the house and was rhythmically soaking them, wringing them and placing them on her forehead and her pulse points. The rest of her body was covered with warm blankets. Jack dragged in two kitchen chairs so that they could take turns trying to keep her cool. He allowed himself one brief smile as he noticed the linen and lace Victorian-style nightgown dear Dot had packed for her mentor and friend. Phryne would have hated it! The night wore on and the two friends kept at it. When Jack seemed truly weary, Mac fetched fresh batches of the cold sea water in his place. At some point, both of them drifted off for an hour or two and were wakened by the sun streaming in through the porch windows. Mac started first and quickly checked on her first patient of the night and then rose to check on Phryne. Her fever had lessened, but she was still delirious. And, she hadn't woken up. This was immediately troubling, but maybe she thought, it was Phryne's shear inner turmoil that was raging and keeping her from rejoining the living?
She let Jack sleep and headed up to a neighbor's house. The neighbor lived in the town year round. She wanted to reach a telephone so she could call the house and let them know that they had found her and that she was alive, but dangerously ill. They had all stayed together in the living room waiting for word. They would stay a little longer until they knew she was in the clear and on her way back to them.
When Mac returned to the house Jack was standing over Phryne whispering, "Please come back to me. Please. You can't leave us, leave me, now." Mac hooked his arm in hers and lead him into the kitchen. She couldn't remember when they had both last eaten. Poor Jack. He looked like a little boy lost. He offered to help her, but she insisted he rest. She needed to change his bandages later and he wasn't going to like it. Mr. Butler, the miracle worker that he was, had packed enough for a week. Mac started the coffee and began boiling the eggs and put a small rash of bacon under the broiler along with some large slices of freshly made bread. Jack seemed to protest, but she insisted that he needed to eat. He'd lost a lot of blood. They both tried to take solace in the fact that the fever had come down, both knew though that she wasn't out of the woods yet. His eyes were on Mac. What a kind, understanding and loving friend she was to both of them. Though he didn't know about what the house had meant to her, he saw that it had been lovingly maintained. Here was another modern woman he now came to cherish. After seeing that nightgown, he knew that Dot would be another! Well, the doctor was right. He did feel better, stronger, after eating. The ordeal of changing his bandages and knowing that her superb care saved him from infection and fever made it all bearable somehow.
It was midday. Jack had slept after his big breakfast and so had Mac. He let her have the comfortable sofa and he took the large easy chair; both on either side of the fireplace. He woke first and immediately went to Phryne's bedside. Her fever was almost imperceptible and she appeared to be in a very heavy sleep. But she hadn't woken up. Was the battle of easy escape vs. acceptance of living still going on inside her brain? Maybe. He hoped not. Mac was suddenly standing beside him. She saw the worry on Jack's face. Squeezing his arm she said, "Jack, maybe she just needs a little more time for her journey back to us? Don't give up hope yet." He knew he could never do that.
The afternoon hours went by slowly. He walked on the beach to clear his head. Mac busied herself cobbling together a late meal from all of the delectable left-overs. She called Jack in to eat. It was a silent supper. Phryne was still deeply sleeping. A second night of worry consumed them both. Jack went to the living room and found a " Complete Shakespeare" in hopes of pure distraction. He slept again. Mac leaned back against the wall of the kitchen window seat and closed her eyes. She wasn't sure she really heard anything. But then she knew it was Phryne's voice. She stubbed out her cigarette and made her way quickly to her friend's side. Phryne was awake and crying. She sat up when she saw her friend. Mac sat down beside her and hugged her hard and let Phryne's head fall onto her shoulder. She tried to stop the crying and pushed back the hair out of her eyes. PHRYNE WAS AWAKE. That's all that was important. After a night and a full day, she had come back to them. And she was truly back. She wanted a whiskey! Mac shook her head. Phryne's eyes were filled with a frightening recklessness. An irresponsible swagger was there, too, something she had never seen before. Without even thinking, she knew why – JACK. Mac said his name out loud without even thinking. Phryne winced in pain. Then the tears came again. Great, muffled sobs that seemed to rob her of her newly regained strength.
"Do you think you can stand, Phryne? I can help you. I need to show you something." When Phryne sat up and swung her legs from under the heavy covers and righted herself, the room spun. "Don't get up too fast. Try to focus and let the dizziness pass. I'm here to help you. OK? Are you ready?" Phryne nodded. She admitted to herself that she had never felt so weak, so helpless since she was that small wild child locked in that cupboard under the stairs. The feeling frightened her. Slowly Mac led her out of the bedroom to the archway opening to the living room. Mac gripped her so tightly, Phryne was almost alarmed.
THEN SHE SAW HIM. It was Jack. It was Jack, wasn't it? Maybe she was really dead? By why was Mac here? As her mind began to process the fact that maybe they were all indeed alive, her balance faltered as pure joy filled her from tip to toe. He appeared to be quietly sleeping. She remembered the bruise to his cheek which was now an ugly stain of purple. What she didn't remember was his bandaged head. Before she could start asking what would no doubt be a 100 questions, Mac managed to get her into a kitchen chair. Mac, again back to being the concerned doctor, insisted her second patient drink and eat something and she poured her a large glass of fresh water and then another. While preparing something small for her to eat, she explained everything. The dark shadows over Phryne eyes lifted. But there was something else still lingering. When Mac sat down to make sure her friend ate everything she put in front of her, she took one of her hands. "Listen Phryne, you could not save Janey. You once and for all have to let that go. Promise me that. Evil took her. A stronger force than a young girl like you could have fought. Take solace in the fact that you found her killer and that she rests peacefully now after a proper burial." There was a long silence that lasted what seemed like minutes.
Phryne knew that everything Mac had said was absolutely true. She took a hitched breath just as Mac continued. "I want you to think about that man in the living room, now. There is no one in the world who loves you as much as he does. He nearly gave his life protecting you. After a night and a day by your side, through the delirium, the tears, he knows how you feel about him. Isn't it time you finally admit it and tell him? This could have been the end Phryne, but now it's a beginning instead. There is no other man in this whole wide world for you other than Jack. Get it into that thick skull of yours that you're not giving in. You're not opening yourself up or giving anything precious away. You will always be you. Know that. Know it because it's the goddamn truth!"
There was still hesitation in Phryne's mind. It seemed she couldn't help it. The crazy idea of her still needing to protect herself from Jack…and her thought process seemed to peter out with that sentence. Protect herself from Jack? Why would she ever need to protect herself from Jack? She trusted him with her life. He was a part of her life. A part of her. Why would he treat her heart carelessly? No, not Jack. Just as she raised her head and small fireworks were going off inside her head, Jack was at the doorway. Jack saw that when he looked down at Phryne that clearly something big had just happened. He could see it in Phryne's eyes. The tension between them was so taught, he felt the need to diffuse it. "Mac, is that bacon I smell? I think I'm hungry again." His face became one broad effervescent smile. What he wanted to say instead over and over at the top of his lungs was…SHE WOKE UP! She had come back to him. He took two steps towards her. She rose too quickly and again lost her balance. Jack caught her and sat her down again. He sat down beside her.
"Phryne, I'll always be here to catch you when you fall. Always."
"I know that now Jack. And I'll always catch you right back." Phryne placed a soft kiss on Jack's bandaged forehead. "I love you Chief Inspector Jack Robinson. And I always will."
Mac let out a sigh of what could only be called unmitigated relief. It was done. She was tearing up and what was the emotion she was feeling? She was feeling honored to have been a part of it all. She left them just looking at one another. She didn't have enough fingers or toes to count how many times over the last few years she had caught them like that. She left the house and started up the road again to the telephone.
They were all coming home.
