To the end of his days, Jack was never quite sure how they'd ended up in Alaska.
The train journey had been uncomfortable, to say the least, and their poky hotel room in Fairbanks was a far cry indeed from Miss Fisher's usual haunts. Its furniture had seen better days, the curtains were grimy, and there had been a faint, but unmistakable smell of fish in the lobby. Shivering in the cool air, Jack wandered over to the window to check out the view.
Two lonely cars were puttering along an unpaved street that was crowded with rugged gold miners, their shaggy dogs at their heels. It was still light outside despite the late hour - Jack kept checking his watch - but the saloons and dance halls were brightly and gaudily lit, and no one seemed in the mood for sleeping. At least they have electricity.
"Anything exciting going on?" Phryne joined him at the window, craning her neck to see past his shoulder.
"Hardly." He shook his head. "Really, Phryne, I still don't see why you had to drag me up here. We could be in Florida now, having cocktails at the beach. Or visiting a museum in New York. They have quite an amazing collection of European paintings, I believe."
"Oh, please, Jack." Phryne sounded a tad impatient. "How could I possibly decline when Lily Irvine asked me? She is one of my oldest friends, and I've admired her for as long as I can remember. Besides, it's such an exciting proposition, don't you think?"
Jack sighed. He'd already met Lily Irvine, or Lily Martin rather, now that she was married. Attractive and vivacious, she was an enthusiastic aviatrix, much like Phryne herself. Apparently, she and her husband had been the first to fly a plane from Fairbanks, back in 1913 – a huge event in the town's brief history. Somehow Lily had managed to persuade the local newspaper, which went by the witty moniker of The Fairbanks Daily News-Miner, to sponsor an aviation event to commemorate that momentous occasion. Phryne had been invited to fly one of the planes, and of course she'd jumped at the chance.
He shivered again. Damn it, this was supposed to be July. He could remember spring days in Melbourne that had been more temperate. "Maybe I should ask for an additional blanket," he muttered.
"Oh, come on, Jack." Wrapping her arms around his neck, Phryne breathed a kiss on his cheek. "Stop complaining. It's not really that cold. Besides, I told you to bring your woollen sweater, didn't I?"
"Woollen sweaters in summer." He made a face. "Why would anyone choose to live here?"
"Well, they do look good on you." A slight tilt of her hips brought their bodies in full contact, and now he was shivering for a completely different reason. "You know, I think it's time for bed. After all, we need to be up early tomorrow."
'Early' was a relative term, where Phryne was concerned, but only ten hours later, they were sitting in the hotel's rather spartan dining room, enjoying a solid breakfast and a cup of scalding hot coffee.
The demonstration flights were set to start at noon, but Phryne had insisted that she needed plenty of time to familiarize herself with the plane Lily had picked for her – a vintage propeller machine, chosen in honour of the intrepid bush pilots of the early twenties. Jack himself vastly preferred the modern cabin planes, especially in chillier temperatures. Yet, it was hard to resist Phryne's bright, happy smile, when she first set sight on the tiny biplane Lily had assigned to her.
"Look, Jack! Isn't she a beauty?" Phryne ran her hand lovingly over the faded cloth covering of the lower wing. "I can't wait until we're up in the air!"
"We?" Jack couldn't believe his ears. "Are you actually suggesting-"
"Well, I assumed you were coming with me, of course." Phryne's smile was altogether too innocent. "That's why I asked Lily for a two-seater. You're not afraid, are you?"
"Of course not." Jack clenched his teeth.
Watching Phryne risk her life in one of these little deathtraps was bad enough, but actually joining her up there… Well, at least we'll go down together, a small logical voice in his head pointed out. And he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of admitting how scary the prospect was. He still had vivid – and decidedly unpleasant - memories of that RAAF chap she'd been involved with. Captain Lyle Compton. I bet he would happily share a plane with her again.
"You should have warned me." He kept his tone light. "I could have dressed for the part."
"You look fine to me." Phryne shrugged. "Besides, I've got all you need. Here." She handed him a leather coat, goggles and a helmet, and a pair of gloves. "Now you're all set."
Phryne's own sartorial choices were spot-on, as always. Clad in a charming light coat and scarf and high boots, she looked every inch the pilot. And somehow, she managed to make even the helmet look fashionable and cute. Looking at her, Jack could almost forget what lay ahead. Almost.
The set hour approached faster than he would have liked, and they climbed aboard amidst cheers and laughter. A small crowd had assembled at the airfield, and everyone seemed to be in a holiday mood. Of course, none of them actually had to go up there.
Jack kept his eyes firmly shut during take-off, until the plane had stopped shaking quite so much, and the icy air on his face told him they had reached their flight altitude. Behind him, Phryne was whooping with sheer joy. Carefully he opened his eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath.
The ground was far away, worryingly far. Below, he could just about make out the airfield. The people who had gathered for the event looked like tiny little insects from up here. Slowly, he breathed in and out again, willing himself to relax. He knew he could trust Phryne. She was an experienced pilot and they wouldn't be gone for long. Just a few rounds above the field, and then-
"Phryne! Where are we going?" Twisting his neck, he tried to see her face. He wasn't even sure she could hear him over the din of the engine.
"Down the river." Her voice was giddy with excitement. "Just a quick spin. We'll be back before you know it."
Jack cursed under his breath, but to be honest, he couldn't even muster the energy to be mad. He should have known she wouldn't be content with just a show flight. And as they followed the course of the river, he had to admit that the view from the plane was beautiful: the dark trees and the smooth green grass, the sunlight gleaming on the water, the dark, menacing clouds building on the horizon… Wait a minute! He was pretty sure those hadn't been there when they'd set off.
"Phryne!" Again, he tried to get her attention.
"I've seen them." She sounded worried now. "I'm turning back as soon as I can."
He nodded, relieved beyond words, but his relief soon turned to concern. Faster than he could have imagined, the clouds approached, and a heavy gust of wind shook their plane. His stomach lurched dangerously, while behind him, Phryne cursed a blue streak. Another squall, stronger this time, and the plane's metal joints were creaking in a rather alarming fashion. He closed his eyes again, but that only made it worse. Thick raindrops began to fall, and the formerly blue sky had turned pitch dark, with thick streaks of clouds swirling around them. And they were rapidly losing altitude.
"What are you doing?" He had to shout this time, to make himself heard.
"I'm taking her down." There was the tiniest hint of panic in Phryne's voice now. "Hold on. This might be-" The rest of her words were lost as another gust of wind rocked them. Jack began to pray.
It wasn't going to be an elegant landing, or even a safe one, but Phryne knew she had no choice. With visibility as low as it was and the wind tossing them around, every minute spent in the air risked being their last. At least she'd had the sense to follow the river. The gravelly bank was wide enough to serve as a decent approximation of an air strip, and with a little luck they ought to be able to get out of this unharmed. And as soon as the rainstorm was over, they could head back. But first…
All other thoughts and considerations fell away as she focussed on the emergency landing, bracing for impact. Silently, she counted down the last seconds: five, four, three, two-
They hit the ground at almost the right angle, skidding to a halt across the gravel. Yet the moment they made contact, Phryne heard a sickening crunch that made her heart sink. Damn it! She'd heard that noise before – a propeller splintering on impact - and she knew from experience that she wouldn't be able to repair or replace it. Damn, damn, damn!
They were safely on the ground. But they were also stuck out here, in the Alaskan wilderness, far from any sign of human habitation. What now?
This was written for the PhryneFicathon. Hugs and thanks to my lovely beta suilven.