March 31, 1930

The rain simply didn't want to let up. Phryne Fisher sat curled up in a window seat in her London flat, a glass of whiskey clutched in her hand, watching the puddles on the sidewalks below get larger by the minute until the fog got so thick it all seemed to disappear. Disappearance would have been a blessed relief, she thought. The chill of the evening seemed to penetrate through the windows making Phryne pull her dressing gown around her even tighter.

"Will you be needing anything else, miss?" The timid maid stood a few feet away, fearful of an outburst. Phryne had vented her frustration on the poor woman earlier and she looked ready to dart out of the room lest Phryne start up again.

"No, I'll be going to bed soon so I'm fine." Gently placing the glass on a side table, she sighed. "Fiona?"

"Yes, miss?"

"I am sorry for what I said to you earlier. It was unforgivable the way I spoke to you when you'd done nothing to deserve it. I do ask your forgiveness."

Looking slightly relieved, Fiona waved her hand. "Nothing to forgive, miss. I know you've been burdened lately and you didn't mean to be so sharp. These are troubling times."

That was the understatement of the century, Phryne thought wryly. "Nevertheless, I still apologize. I will try not to do such a thing again."

Bobbing her head, Fiona picked up Phryne's dress that had apparently been hurled at a nearby chair. "What time would you like me to bring up your breakfast?"

Groaning, Phryne unwrapped herself from the window seat and stood. "I suppose I'll have to eat by 7 as I have another appointment with my solicitor at 9:00. Unforgivable hour." She muttered the last part under her breath.

"Yes, miss." Fiona gave her employer a cautious look but seeing there was no further comment she turned and left the room.

The large bed beckoned and Phryne gave herself up to its comfort even though she knew restful sleep would not be found there. She hadn't had a decent night's sleep since she left Melbourne. All she could do was hope that the nightmares would let up long enough for her to dream about something else. Someone else.

"Come after me."

"What did you say?"

"It's a romantic overture."

"Say it again."

"Come after me, Jack Robinson."

She clung to the memory of his kiss like a lifeline until sleep took it away.


"Is that Miss Fisher's latest letter?" Hugh Collins sat at the breakfast table and poured a cup of tea before glancing over at Dot.

"Yes. She says it's very sad in London right now. So many people losing their jobs. Bread lines are getting longer. She even attended another funeral the day before she wrote this. I think that's the fourth one she's mentioned so far." Dot Collins furrowed her brow in concern.

She and Hugh were living at Wardlow for the time being. Phryne had insisted they stay there after their honeymoon and as their finances were still shaky, they gratefully accepted her offer. Dot felt it was only right to take care of her mistress' house and keep it safe for her until she returned. Because Dot was never going to say "if". Miss Fisher was going to come back.

"I can't even imagine how bad it is there. The newspapers are full of horrible stories about the stock markets in the UK and the States. I can only hope things don't get that bad here. Just yesterday the Inspector and I had to investigate another business being broken into by vandals. All they wanted was the money in the till. But there was still plenty of damage to the windows and the front door."

Dot looked sharply at Hugh. "How is the Inspector?"

Hugh returned her look with sad eyes. "He doesn't say much. Tries to focus on work and keep everything as orderly as possible. But I can tell he's distracted. The longer Miss Fisher has to be gone, the more worried he seems. I know he got a letter from her a few days ago that concerned him. From what I could get, the Baron and Baroness are having to sell more of their property and even a few pieces of Miss Fisher's artwork in order to keep their heads above water. Seems the Baron made some very foolish investments yet again which infuriated Miss Fisher and they had another blazing row."

A sharp huff left her lips. "I know I shouldn't say such things, but I almost wish she'd leave them to their own devices and let them sink or swim so she could come back home to Australia!" Dot slammed her fist on the table and the teacups shuddered.

He placed his hand gently over hers and squeezed. "You know she'd be here if she could." he whispered. She nodded slowly and squeezed his hand back.

Just then the kitchen door opened and in walked Mr. Butler carrying a basket of vegetables. "Good morning Hugh! Dorothy!" He turned to remove his gardening gloves and don his usual apron. "Is there enough tea in the kettle or should I make more?"

"No, there's plenty here, Mr. Butler. I also made some scones if you're hungry." Dot pushed the fragrant plate towards him and he took one with a nod of thanks.

"I think if the weather holds we should get a few more baskets of summer vegetables so we can go ahead and start canning. Having extra stock in the pantry will be a comfort."

Hugh stood and brushed some crumbs from the front of his shirt and then turned to kiss Dot on the cheek. "I need to get to the station. There's some paperwork I need to do and I know the Inspector is going to want to revisit the crime scene today. I hope I'll be able to come home for lunch, but I don't know yet. If not, I'll see you for dinner."

Giving him an encouraging smile, Dot also stood. "Ask the Inspector if he'd like to come by for dinner tonight. I'll ask Bert and Cec if they want to come. We haven't seen him in weeks and he could do with a proper meal."

"I'll ask but I don't know what his answer will be. I think being in Miss Fisher's house without her here makes him sad somehow."

Mr. Butler placed his cup of tea on the table with a gentle tap. "He misses their conversations together working out the puzzles of their cases. He misses their verbal sparring and repartee. And I think..." He paused and assumed a far-off look.

"What, Mr. Butler?"

"I think being here reminds him of how much he loves her."


April 9, 1930

Dearest Jack,

I am at the end of my tether where my useless father is concerned. To think we worked so hard to save his life and this is the thanks I get. I have days where I think I should have just left him in the middle of nowhere and flown to get my mother to bring her back to Australia. Tell her that his ship sank or he was set upon by vandals or flogged by nomads. After what he's put her through she deserves some peace. But then, after her constant defense of his actions, I begin to think there's no point in helping her, either. The constant worrying and wringing of hands. "What will we do, Phryne? Why can't you fix this, Phryne? How is this possible, Phryne?" I want to scream. I have bailed them out several times now and they are draining me. Financially, emotionally, and physically. I can't be their pillar anymore, Jack.

And it isn't just them. A few months ago I ran into several acquaintances I hadn't seen in years and was floored. They used to throw such extravagant parties, very reminiscent of Guy and Isabella's engagement party that you remember. A constant melee and nothing taken seriously. Now, everything gone in the market crash, they had to sell their home, their possessions, and anything else that would bring a few pounds just to rent a cheap flat in the East End. They had put their trust in a charlatan who took all they had. Today I found out that he suicided and she went to live with distant relatives in Scotland, working in their pub. That's the sixth funeral I've heard of about someone I know since November. I'm so tired of funerals.

When this is over, I'm never wearing black again. When I die, I'll demand that everyone come to my funeral wearing the brightest, most colorful clothes they possess, and I don't want anyone crying. On second thought, I won't even have a funeral. It will just be a large party where there is laughter and music and I'm remembered with smiles. No dour organ music, no stuffy arrangements of flowers that choke with their cloying perfume, no stifled sobs. I won't have it.

On the one bright side, Jane has won an academic scholarship to continue her education at her Academy in France and won't have to leave. Truth be told, I'd have done whatever it took to keep her there as she loves her studies and has blossomed, but she was determined to do her part, she said. I miss her deeply. Do continue writing her occasionally. Apparently the fact that she knows a Detective Inspector is highly impressive among her classmates and she's even been sought after to solve a few little mysteries of her own around the school. Our influence has rubbed off on her, I fear.

I miss Melbourne, I miss darling Dot and her stalwart Hugh, I miss Mr. Butler and his ability to know what I need before even I know, I miss Bert and Cec arguing about football in the kitchen, I miss Mac and her spirit. And you, Jack. You I miss most of all. Don't ever think I have forgotten our last meeting because it is burned in my memory and when things get too difficult to bear, it's the one moment I escape to in order to keep going. I treasure you, and someday, somehow, I will find a way to repay you for everything you've done.

Yours, Phryne

Jack placed Phryne's letter on his desk and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The headache that had been threatening all day had arrived full force and he wouldn't be able to leave the station for some time yet. It was at that moment he remembered he hadn't eaten all day either which certainly didn't help matters. He was on the verge of asking Collins to find him a headache powder when his phone rang.

"City South. Inspector Robinson, speaking."

"Inspector, this is Prudence Stanley. I apologize for interrupting your work but I really must speak with you in person. Would you be able to come out and see me today?"

Jack grimaced at the phone. "Has something happened Mrs. Stanley? If you need me to send a Constable out to your home I can send Collins?"

"No, I need to see you." She paused, sounding unsure of herself.

"Mrs. Stanley?"

"It's about Phryne."

He suddenly sat up, fear hovering somewhere close by.

"Is she alright? I got a letter from her yesterday and..."

"As far as I know, she is physically fine, but I'm worried. There's something she's not telling me and that combined with my sister's letters has left me in a state. I need someone else to look them over and tell me I'm distressed for no logical reason. As you and my niece are close, I thought your perspective would bring things more into focus."

Jack sighed and looked at his watch. "I have a few things here I need to take care of, but I should be able to make it to your home in about an hour. Would that be acceptable?"

"Oh, yes. I'll have everything ready for you when you arrive. Thank you and goodbye, Inspector."

Hanging up the phone he pinched the bridge of his nose and hoped Prudence Stanley was just being overly protective. Because if he were to ask himself the truth, he'd been concerned for some time now by Phryne's letters. Jack had tried to be reassuring when he wrote back but Phryne's tone had gone steadily downhill and this last letter about funerals had him genuinely alarmed. Was her financial state that bad?

Gathering her letter, he folded it and placed it inside his jacket pocket so as not to lose it. No sense in borrowing trouble, he thought. There was plenty enough in the world at the moment to go around.


He hadn't been to Mrs. Stanley's estate in some time, he realized. Was it since the incident with the doctor and his "hysterical" women patients? He should never have mentioned that Chinese brothel to Phryne. She was still trying to get that story out of him. The memory of her in her parlor clutching her drink, grinning mischievously at him as he dodged her intrusive questions made him smile to himself. No, that wasn't right...it was the tennis tournament. And the spiders. He had a fondness for arachnids, now.

He missed her so much it was starting to hurt.

Ringing the doorbell, he was greeted by a positively ancient man. "May I help you, sir?"

"Um, yes. I'm Detective Inspector Robinson. I'm here to see Mrs. Stanley?"

Before the alleged butler could respond, Prudence came storming down the hall as only she could. "Inspector, I'm so very glad you could make it. Please, come with me into the sun room. I've got tea ready for us along with the letters I mentioned."

"Of course, Mrs. Stanley."

Once Jack was seated, Prudence shoved the letters his direction across the table. "I won't waste your time, Inspector. I know you're a busy man. But I think Phryne may be in need of your assistance."

"How so?"

Prudence poured herself and Jack a cup of tea before continuing. "From what I can gather, Phryne is having to deal with a great deal on her own and she has no one in England she can really trust. You know how I feel about her derelict father," she practically hissed, "and my sister Margaret isn't being much help either. She's always been blind where Henry is concerned."

Jack skimmed the letters from Margaret Fisher before looking at the familiar handwriting of Phryne. "I take it Miss Fisher's financial state is perilous?"

"Not as such, no. Phryne invested wisely and she will come through this panic just fine. But she's having to deal with not only her parents but a number of, shall we say, irresponsible acquaintances she's known for many years. I think we're both well aware of the company Phryne has been known to keep."

Jack frowned as he knew very well what Prudence meant. "Is Miss Fisher trying to keep them financially afloat as well? It seems unreasonable to expect to help everyone she knows."

"You know how she is, Inspector. A tough exterior, but she'd give her life blood to help someone, especially if they are dear to her. And I think it's all coming to a head. The more people that know she's assisting them, the more people knocking down her door begging for a handout. And quite frankly, she needs to get out of England. Now."

"But she can get on a boat anytime she pleases."

"No, she can't. I've begged her more than a few times to do so and each time something or someone comes along to make her stay. So that's why I need you."

"To do what, Mrs. Stanley?"

"Go to London and bring her back home."

He couldn't help but stare at her. "Mrs. Stanley, I would love to help you out, but unfortunately, I cannot afford passage. Nor do I have permission to take leave from the police department."

Prudence shook her head at him to cut him off. "Nonsense. If it's money you need, I can provide that. And I happen to know your Chief Commissioner. My late husband once did him a very large favor and it's time I reminded him of that." She got up to get a flier from a nearby end table. "There's a ship leaving here next week. It should take about six weeks to get you to the port in Dartford. I hope to see you both back here before the summer."

Jack's hand shook slightly as he took the information from Prudence. "I don't know what to say, Mrs. Stanley. But...I will find a way to pay you back for the ticket."

"Tosh! If it makes this easier for your conscience, then I'm hiring you to go and get my niece. Bring her back to the actual family that loves her as opposed to the family that's bleeding her dry." Prudence's eyes teared up and Jack had to look away.

"Of course, Mrs. Stanley," he muttered. "I will do everything in my power to get Miss Fisher back to Melbourne as soon as I can."


"You're never gonna believe it," Hugh hurried into the kitchen at Wardlow where Dot was sitting snapping beans into a large bowl. He then noticed that Bert, Cec, and Mr. Butler were also sitting at the table enjoying lunch.

"Believe what, Hugh?" Dot looked up from her bowl as Hugh noticed the whole room was staring at him.

"The Inspector is going to London to bring back Miss Fisher!"

"What?!" A burst of excitement went around the room.

"Apparently Mrs. Stanley has hired him to go to London. And the Commissioner has given him four months leave to get there and back. He's not very happy about it, but he's letting the Inspector go anyway. His ship leaves in three days." Happy chatter broke out from everyone there.

"That doesn't leave us a lot of time to get things ready for the Inspector." Mr. Butler grabbed a pencil and notepad from the kitchen table and promptly started making notes. Bert looked at Mr. Butler with amusement.

"You think the Inspector doesn't know how to get on a ship by himself?"

"While I'm certain the Inspector is capable of getting himself on board without assistance, I'm guessing his wardrobe might not be sufficient for the journey. Especially as I doubt Mrs. Stanley will have gotten him a third class ticket in steerage with the produce."

"Good point, that."

"Alright then!" Dot excitedly hopped up from her chair, the romantic in her taking over. "Hugh, you go tell the Inspector he's coming over here for dinner tonight. No excuses. And if he tries to get out of it, tell him I'll come get him myself if he says no." Hugh grinned at the idea.

"No one could say no to you, Dottie."


June 15, 1930

For what had to be the dozenth time since embarking on this ship, Jack silently blessed the souls of Tobias Butler and Dorothy Collins. When he'd shown up at Phryne's house that evening weeks ago he'd protested at their frenzy of activity, claiming it wasn't necessary nor was he worth all the fuss. The withering look Dot had given him both amused and scared him. Needless to say, he sat quietly and acquiesced to whatever he was told. His constable couldn't have looked more smug if he'd tried.

Mr. Butler had found him several new suits and updated his tuxedo. Dot had mended some shirts and finished the tailoring. Armed with several of Mr. Butler's lists, Bert and Cec had gone out and bought a new trunk, complete with new shoes, hat, shaving kit, socks, hair pomade, books, and other odds and ends they felt he needed whether Jack agreed or not. The fact that they got it all done in less than three days was astonishing. The realization they were correct in their assessments was miraculous. And Jack was humbled that they all considered him part of their little family.

He'd never traveled First Class before and it was beautiful and luxurious and damned intimidating if he thought about it too long. These people seemed to be immune from any global financial panics. His first evening at dinner he was seated at a table with a man who'd made millions in iron and steel. Another man owned factories in Australia, England, Scotland, and the United States. Their wives were society women who seemed to follow a series of unwritten rules Jack couldn't even begin to fathom.

Mr. Butler had given him a crash course in dinner service and which fork to use with which dish so that he didn't look like a complete imbecile but Jack still felt like a fraud, especially when his dinner companions began to quiz him about his life. The gentlemen seemed to enjoy picking his brain but the ladies seemed bored by him and his lack of millions. Or he thought that was the case. Many nights he took his dinner in the security of his cabin, knowing if he only used one knife and fork for the whole meal it wouldn't be a social faux pas. But he couldn't stay in there forever and ventured out for the formality of dinner one evening. Needing some fresh air on deck after the meal he felt his arm grabbed by a strong pair of hands.

"Mr. Robinson! How lovely to see you out here!"

"Mrs. Waltham, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"How kind of you. I was just telling my husband that we've missed you at our table. It's a lovely change of pace talking with someone new. We don't meet too many people with the police force. Well, there was that one time the head of Scotland Yard came to our spring soiree, but he was busy chatting with Andrew Mellon and Winston Churchill. I didn't get a chance to pass on my regards."

"Pity." Jack bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. Mrs. Waltham didn't catch his sarcasm.

"Indeed. But I was entranced by Coco Chanel at the time so I'm afraid my attention wasn't as sharp as it should have been. A mistake you would not have made, I'm sure."

"You're too kind." She patted his arm and steered him towards the railing chatting about a future party she was throwing and whether any members of the Royal Family would accept her invitation. It was too dark to see the ocean, but the night sky had come to life with billions of stars. Jack looked upward and searched to see if any of them were falling and wondered what Phryne was doing right then. The ship would reach England in a week and he hoped she would be glad to see him. It had been almost nine months since they had last seen each other on a windy airfield. He returned to the memory of their near embrace at the observatory and of her real kiss and her teasing smile before jogging off to her plane days later. He hoped...it wouldn't be their last kiss. But so much time had passed and Phryne Fisher was not one to sit and wait. He wasn't sure if he could handle resuming a platonic friendship and watching her galavant about with someone new on her arm whenever the mood struck. Something about it would hurt too much. And yet, he was no lovesick teenager pining for what he couldn't have, either. She either wanted to be with him or she didn't and that was that. They had sent each other numerous letters saying they couldn't wait to see the other again, but showing up on her doorstep unannounced gave him a fluttering feeling in his stomach that he wasn't sure how to interpret. Maybe he was a fool.

He was jolted back to the present when Mrs. Waltham started laughing and he had the sudden realization that he'd not been listening to anything she'd been saying. So much for his sharp attention.

"Wouldn't that be the worst thing possible?"

"Well...far be it from me to pass judgment on such matters," he stuttered. He seemed to have said the correct thing because she nodded and smiled.

"Listen to me going on. I'm sure I'm boring you silly but you're being so very gallant. I don't believe I've ever heard you say what brings you to London?"

Later, back in the privacy of his room, he still didn't know what possessed him to turn to a complete stranger and say, "I'm going to bring the woman I love back to Australia."


Having spent more than her fair share of time investigating murders, Phryne wondered, for what had to be the hundredth time since she'd been back in England, if she'd be able to murder her father and get away with it. Dreaming up the perfect crime certainly did offer her the chance to stop listening to her father droning on and on about how he could make her money back and in record time.

"...and it really is an amazing investment opportunity, you see." Henry Fisher resumed his pacing in front of Phryne's chair.

"Father, stop. Just stop! This idea of yours is ludicrous, as has been all the other schemes you've invented. Everything you've proposed has failed miserably, and yet you won't listen to me when I try to give you some sound advice for a change! For once in your life, will you hold your tongue and do what I suggest?" Henry stopped short and glared at his daughter.

"I am your father, how dare you speak to me that way!"

Phryne was incensed. "How dare I? Considering you've never been much of any kind of parent to me I think I have every right to speak to you in whatever fashion I choose! Today, I choose to be the put-out daughter who has bailed out her degenerate, ungrateful father for the last time." Launching herself out of her chair, she pushed past Henry and grabbed her hat from the antique hall tree in the entryway. He followed close at her heels.

"Phryne, my girl, be reasonable. Without this extra money, how am I to give your mother the kind of life she deserves?

She spun around so fast she nearly knocked him over. "Well, I don't know, father, but if past history is anything to go by, I think mother is well aware of your inability to provide her the life she deserves and came to terms with it years ago. And you can stop trying to appeal to my sympathetic side by bringing up mother. You're lucky she was invited to tea today and isn't here to listen to this. It's a low blow, even for you."

Anger flared in Henry's eyes again. He resembled a small child about to throw a tantrum. "I can't believe you'd be so heartless as to turn your back on your family at a time like this." She looked as if he'd slapped her.

"My family?! When did you decide to become my family? Because you certainly didn't relish the idea when I was a child. Or when Janey was murdered? Or when other relatives died to make you a Baron? What happened to the man that was so apologetic and humbled after Eugene Fisher was captured? That man I wouldn't mind having back!"

Henry ran his hands through his hair and turned his back to her. She watched his shoulders fall in resignation and she almost pitied him. Almost. "Father, I will never stop helping you and mother if you need help. But stop thinking these financial schemes are going to be successful. It's just higher stakes gambling and you're not good at that either!"

"Oh, so we're bringing up my time at the Grand Hotel again, are we?" he shouted. "We've gone nine rounds and I thought we'd put that to rest, but apparently you feel the need to bring it up whenever you're feeling superior!"

Phryne's eyebrows shot up in shock and she opened her mouth to retort, but the words got stuck in her throat. Not trusting herself to speak she instead flung the front door open and slammed it as hard as she could. Tears threatened but there was no way she was going to let her emotions get the better of her, especially not in front of her parents' home. At first she was so angry she thought walking back to her flat would be best but the bloody rain had started again while she'd been fighting with her bloody father so instead she flagged down a cab and barked her address at the driver.


The heavens had opened when Jack left his hotel and the rain came down like it was punishing the earth for some unknown offense. He'd left his brolly in the trunk and by the time he made it to Phryne's address, his hat and coat were soaked. Had the weather been fair, he probably would have dithered about ringing the bell. As it was, he just prayed someone was home. He was relieved when a maid answered the door.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes, I was wondering if Miss Phryne Fisher was home?"

"No sir, she's out at the moment and I am unsure as to when she will return. Is there any message I can leave for her?"

"If it's at all possible, could I come inside to wait for her? It's just...I'm Detective Inspector Jack Robinson and she knows who I am and I've come from Australia and the rain..."

The poor woman took pity on Jack and ushered him inside. "Mercy on us, this weather. Rain is nothing unusual here, but it's coming down so you'd think we'd need an ark." Taking his hat and coat, she moved to hang them where they would drip-dry.

"Thank you very much." Looking at his surroundings he could see Phryne's personality everywhere. From the artwork to the flowers to just the scent of the room. Her French perfume wafted in the air and he felt his heart twinge.

"I'm Fiona, Miss Fisher's maid. You're from Australia, you said? I've always wanted to go there. But my man Terry will have none of it. Says it's at the end of the world and what if we got lost there and couldn't get back? But Miss Fisher always speaks so warmly of it."

Jack smiled at the maid's enthusiasm. "It's very beautiful there. You'd like it, I think." She gave him a shy grin back at his accent and motioned towards the parlor.

"You can wait in here if you like. As I said, I don't know when Miss Fisher will be back but I can have some tea brought up for you if you're in need of refreshments. Inspector Robinson, you said your name was?"

"Yes, and tea would be fine, thank you." Fiona bobbed a quick curtsey and closed the parlor doors behind her. Jack breathed in deeply and sat in an armchair near the window. He'd been waiting for months...a few more hours wouldn't kill him. "I came after you, Phryne," he muttered at the room. "Finally."

Several hours later he watched as a black cab came to a screeching halt in front of the building and a well-dressed woman darted out. At first he thought it was because of the rain, which was still coming down in sheets, but then...

SLAM! "Fiona!"

He heard the maid come running from the kitchen. "Miss! Yes, miss!"

"I swear by every known and unknown deity in the universe that I am going to have my father hung by his toes if he so much as even hints at money around me anymore!" Jack had gotten up from his chair and had cautiously opened the parlor door to watch. Phryne had jerked off her hat and flung it across the room and was in the process of doing the same to her jacket. Fiona was racing after the articles as though she'd done this before. "The nerve of him! The sheer cheek and gall! I cannot deal with..!" But whatever she couldn't deal with, Phryne couldn't manage to articulate, as she'd shut her eyes and clenched her fists to yell.

"Miss...in your parlor...there's a gentleman waiting to see you..."

She hadn't heard anything yet. "That's it! That is it! I'm going to say goodbye to mother and find out when the next ship leaves because I must get back to Melbourne! I need to go home!"

"And only when I've just arrived, Miss Fisher?" He hadn't spoken loudly, but the timbre of his voice made Phryne's eyes shoot open. She slowly turned and there was Jack Robinson standing in her home, leaning against the door frame, eyes twinkling and soft grin, as though she'd magically conjured him.

All the wind seemed to have gone out of her sails in an instant. "Jack?" she whispered. For a few seconds she looked at him in stunned silence and then Phryne suddenly flung herself his direction as though all the air in the room had been eliminated and he was the only source of oxygen. The force of her arms around his neck made all the months apart seem like a mere memory.

"I'm here, Phryne. And I have missed you terribly." He murmured into her ear, holding her as close to him as he'd been dreaming about since he saw her plane take off and carry her away from him.

"I can't believe it. I can't. I'm going to wake up in a minute and be alone again." She pulled away from him, her hands gently cradling his face. His eyes were just as blue as she remembered. He turned his face to gently kiss her palm.

"No, you won't. You won't be alone again unless you choose to be."

Her response was to kiss him the way she'd always planned on doing had an airplane trip not gotten in the way.

A good deal of time later, they sat in her parlor, the fresh pot of tea having grown cold from constant talking, interrupted occasionally by kisses; some gentle and full of longing, some passionate and promising so much more to come in the future. Phryne and Jack were curled up together on the long couch, momentarily silent and lost in their own thoughts. For just a few minutes, the world had ceased to exist and outside worries had no place in their bubble.

"I know I haven't exactly given you the opportunity the last hour or so, but you never told me how everyone is at home? I assume everyone is well?" Phryne reluctantly pulled away from his warm embrace to fully look at him.

Jack smiled and laced his fingers through hers. "Everyone is fine and wanted me to tell you how much they all missed you. Mrs. Collins, especially, is anxious for your return. I don't think my constable lets her do quite as much detective work as she would like and I think she's itching for the chance to have an adventure."

"Jack, when are you going to call them Dot and Hugh? I think by this time everyone's become close enough to be informal."

He gave her a thoughtful expression. "I suppose outside of the station it would be permissible to address them more informally." Phryne rolled her eyes and then laughed.

"That is a relief, then. As long as it's outside of the station. Heaven forbid we eliminate the structure of formality to keep society in line!" she teased.

"Hmm, that would be a tragedy. What would your Aunt Prudence do then?"

"Go mad, probably. But considering she sent you to me, I forgive her every offense, past, present, and future, in perpetuity." Phryne leaned in to gently kiss him again and rested her forehead on his. "I didn't mean to frighten her or you or anyone else as to my situation, but things just got out of control faster than I'd realized and by that time I couldn't ask for help. Or didn't know how to."

"Have you no close friends left in London? I would have thought everyone would be banding together to support one another?" She leaned back again to give a snort of derision.

"The aristocracy doesn't quite work like that, Jack. When all is well in their world, of course friends are coming out of the woodwork. But find yourself on hard times and they scatter to the four winds. And this depression isn't making things easier." Her face took on a worried expression that Jack was sure had been there for many months and he couldn't bear to see now. "Most of the people I know have had money their entire lives and have no clue how to exist without it. I suppose that's one checkmark in my favor that I can deal with being poor, having lived that way for almost my whole childhood, and for some time after the war was over when I was in Paris. But them? This is foreign territory. None of them know how to speak the language and I feel like I'm the Rosetta Stone."

"You can't help them all, Phryne. At some point they're going to have to fend for themselves. You can give them the textbook, but they're going to have to read it if they want the translation. That includes your father."

She nodded and he felt her begin to cast off some of the burdens she'd been carrying for so long. "My father is a whole other entity unto himself. But I don't want to talk about him right now. I've dealt with him enough for today. Right now I think we should get changed and I will take you out to dinner." Suddenly the Phryne he knew and had been missing for so many months returned in full force. It was as though she'd been let out of a cage.

"I will have to go back to my hotel to do that, but I can meet you back here in an hour if that's acceptable?"

Her smile could have lit up London. "Oh yes, Jack. That sounds perfect."

The rain had stopped sometime during dinner and they strolled arm in arm through a nearby park deep in conversation. "Honestly, I'm surprised I haven't been besieged with telegrams from police here, demanding to know who you are and why you felt the need to take over their investigations?" Jack's head tilted at her in his 'you endlessly amuse me' expression. "You can't possibly tell me you haven't been involved with figuring out one mystery since you've been here."

She batted her eyelashes at him. "Murders, no. But I did attend one party where a woman's priceless Faberge egg was stolen. Turned out her former fiancé had planned on selling it to a Russian oligarch who had promised said fiancé a delivery of enough cocaine to make him the biggest drug lord on the British Isles. Needless to say, after throwing a divine party of my own at a posh club and keeping him occupied with several...attentive ladies...I was able to enter his home and find the egg."

Jack came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the sidewalk. "I won't even begin to ask how you managed that."

"It was a simple lock to pick..."

"No, I mean finding the alleged entertainment for the party."

She turned to run her fingers down his lapels in a way he was most familiar. "Come now, Jack. You know I know an endless variety of people. And considering he didn't know me from Adam he also had no way of knowing his ill-gotten gains had been re-taken. It was really most brilliant of me. You'd have been impressed by my detective skills."

"More like cat burglar." He rolled his eyes, but still gave her the half-smile that she had come to crave. "So there's no chance of retribution by this person?"

"I told you, he didn't meet me as he was invited through a friend of a friend and never saw me leave the party because his attention was otherwise occupied. I was able to get in and out of his house without being seen. The woman never officially hired me, so why would my name come up in any conversation other than socially? It's all very convoluted, I know. Besides, he was arrested later on suspicion of solicitation in a public area." She winked at Jack saucily. He had the sudden urge to laugh.

"To completely change the subject," Phryne grimaced, "my parents received an invitation several weeks ago to attend a ball at the London home of the Duke and Duchess of Somerset. I have no idea how they managed to get invited, especially since my father sold our estate there last year and he and the Duke never got on. I'm guessing they're being kind for my mother's sake. I don't think this giant display of wealth is a very good idea in these times, but needless to say, we're expected to make an appearance." She tucked her hand under Jack's arm and started them walking again. "I have argued with my mother about my being there since the invitation was delivered. I said no one would miss my absence, she said people knew I'd been in the country for months now so my refusal would be rude."

"When is this fashionable nightmare taking place?"

"Next week. I won't deny I've been dreading it, mostly because the guests in attendance will be acting as if there's nothing going on in the world or in their own lives. 'Fiddling while Rome is burning' as they say. I'm not sure who will be playing the part of Nero, but as I understand the Prime Minister will be there, I say why not him?"

Pulling her closer, he couldn't help saying, "I'm sure you'll be the most riveting person in the room and have no less than a dozen admirers within minutes."

"Only a dozen? I'm slipping." She batted her eyelashes at him again. "But if I am forced to go, I'm going to need a gentleman on my arm. I had been asked by a friend of my father's—Lord Asquith or some such name—he's 94 if he's a day. I'd much rather have a handsome Detective Inspector as my date."

Jack nearly tripped over his own feet. "Phryne! I'm in no way equipped to handle such an event!"

"Don't be ridiculous, of course you are. You can command any room you enter."

"If I'm confronting a suspect, certainly! I know how to do that. I don't know how to handle a room full of people far above my station!"

"Nonsense. You'll be perfectly fine. And in my eyes, you're the one above them."

"I...I don't have proper evening wear. I mean, I have black tie that I wore on the ship to go to dinner, but..."

"We can visit Savile Row tomorrow. I'll help you pick out your white tie and tails."

"Phryne, you're not buying me a tuxedo."

"Fine, you pay for it. But I can at least make sure they get everything finished in time." Jack was doing a fine imitation of a fish on dry land. "Close your mouth, darling. If it starts raining again you'll drown."

Instead Jack closed his eyes and shook his head resigning himself to the inevitable. Yes, this was the Phryne he remembered. He'd never been so happy.

One week later he found himself standing in front of the mirror in his hotel room feeling both ludicrous and also somehow...impressed? He had to admit the tuxedo was the finest thing he'd ever worn and considering all the poking and prodding the tailors had done during the fittings it should look like he belonged in the same building as all the other guests even if he didn't feel that way. He adjusted his white tie for the last time and grabbed the fine black wool overcoat and top hat on the bed. "Once more into the breach..." he muttered.

Ringing the bell at Phryne's flat, he was greeted again by the cheerful Fiona. At least, she'd been cheerful whenever Jack arrived to see Phryne, which had been quite a lot the last six days when she wasn't dealing with business matters. He suspected Fiona had been less subject to her mistress' temper over the last week, so she saw Jack as a definite improvement.

"Inspector, come in! Miss Fisher should be out soon. Let me take your coat and hat." Shrugging out of the coat, he handed it to her and turned to a nearby mirror to fix his hair again. "My! You look so dashing! I wish I could see all the fancy people attending the ball tonight. I'm sure there will be ever so many pictures in the papers tomorrow."

"I'm sure the cameras will be mostly focusing on the ladies. All the men will look entirely too similar for any lasting interest."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Jack." Phryne stepped into the room and Jack felt his breath catch in his throat. She was always beautiful but tonight she was simply stunning. The sleeveless merlot-colored dress made her skin glow and the intricate beadwork around the bodice and neckline sparkled under the lights. No less impressive were the diamond combs in her jet black tresses. "You certainly will be turning heads in your white tie and tails."

He reached out for her hand and, his eyes never leaving hers, dropped a kiss on her satin glove. "Miss Fisher." He could have sworn he felt her tremble. Their gaze stayed locked; a communion too precious to be vocalized.

Fiona gave an unconscious sigh of satisfaction from the corner of the room interrupting Jack and Phryne, bringing them back to the present. Blushing furiously, she hurried over to give Jack his hat and coat back and help Phryne into her fur coat. "I believe your car just pulled up, Miss."

"Thank you." As Jack gave her his arm Phryne gave him a dazzling smile. "Ready to go have another adventure, Inspector?"


"Good God!" Jack choked, and froze, looking at the crowd of people in the ballroom. He'd never seen such a display of finery and was, for the first time in his life, thoroughly intimidated. He supposed it was fortunate that Phryne was still clutching his arm as he probably would have backed out of the room and run the other direction in sheer terror. Forget his coat and hat with the butler, he could find another one.

"Steady on, Jack. Once you get past all the diamonds and medals, they're just people. You know how to deal with people. Breathe." Her expression was all sympathy as she remembered the first time she'd ever had to deal with such an event. She'd been so young then. At least Jack had the wisdom of years to give him some courage.

He swallowed hard and gave her a half-smile. "I'll be fine. I'll stay on the edge of things and observe."

"Yes, but you will at least waltz with me a time or two?" Phryne squeezed his arm as she moved closer to him and dropped her voice. "I know we can at least pass some time that way."

He longed to kiss her right there. "It would be my honor, Miss Fisher," he murmured.

"Miss Fisher, is that you?" Turning to see who had called her, Jack and Phryne watched as an elderly gentleman weaved his way through a group of people to reach for her hand. "It's so lovely to see you, my dear!" She blanched and nearly cut off the blood supply in Jack's arm.

"Lord Asquith! How lovely!" Her panicked face had Jack struggling not to laugh.

"Your father mentioned you would be here tonight and I wanted to properly greet you. He and your mother are already here and chatting up the Marquess and Marchioness of Hexham."

Phryne's face brightened. "Lady Edith is here? How wonderful! I haven't had a chance to see her since she's returned to the magazine." Turning to Jack she explained, "Edith is the publisher of a very popular ladies' magazine in London. Has been for over five years now. She took a break for a time after she had another son, but it looks like she's back at the helm where she belongs."

Lord Asquith nodded. "She and Bertie are both thrilled to have another addition to their family. And both boys are healthy chaps, to be sure. Lady Edith's ward Marigold is also doing splendidly."

"Allow me to introduce you to my guest, Lord Asquith. This is Detective Inspector Jack Robinson of the Royal Victoria Police in Melbourne, Australia." Jack reached out to shake the older man's hand.

"A pleasure, sir."

"Detective Inspector, eh? I wouldn't mention that around some of the politicians here." He gave a bark of a laugh at his own joke. Phryne gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"So sorry to cut this short, but we've only just arrived and I wanted to show the Inspector around as he's never been here before. Do give my best to your family!" Jack felt himself yanked sideways as Phryne gave a quick wave to the octogenarian and they quickly got lost in the crowd. "I know it was rude, but it was best to get you away before he started making comments about his time in the military and escorting prisoners to Fremantle in the late 1800's. You'd have never gotten away." Jack's eyes widened and started to say something but then thought better of it.

The small orchestra in the corner of the room began playing and they watched as a number of couples headed to the dance floor. The hosts of the party, the Duke and Duchess of Somerset led off the dancing and after a few minutes, they were joined by dozens of others.

"You know," Jack queried, "I've been here for a week and I still have not had the pleasure of meeting your mother. Are you going to introduce us at some point or are you keeping us apart for altruistic reasons?"

"No, I'm not hiding either of you away, it's simply worked out that when one of you was available, the other was not. Mother does tend to keep a very busy social schedule even now, so you'll finally meet her tonight." Phryne gave him an affectionate look. "You'll certainly like her better than my father, but then, most people do." A footman carrying a tray of champagne walked by and Jack grabbed two glasses.

"So long as she doesn't slip me any of your father's nerve tonic, I'm sure I'll have no issues with her."

"I'll be sure to check your drinking glass periodically. I'm going to need you to stay conscious tonight." Unsure if she was doing her usual teasing or if her words had a double meaning, he handed her one of the glasses and took a large gulp from his. If they'd been standing in the middle of City South and she'd said that, he'd have known exactly how to respond. The situation now was throwing him off.

Phryne looked around for her parents choosing to be the one to find them rather than the other way around. She eventually found them talking to some of her mother's friends that she'd only met once before. "There they are. Let's get this over with."

"How very encouraging."

Smirking, she took his hand and led him over to the small klatsch of people near a winding staircase. "Hello, father."

Henry Fisher turned to give his daughter a dazzling smile only to notice her companion. "Jack!" The shock on Henry's face would have been hilarious in any other setting. "Phryne, why didn't you say Jack was in London?"

"The opportunity never presented itself," she retorted. "And the surprise on your face was too good to pass up. Anyway, I'm just here to introduce Jack to mother and then we'll be on our way."

"Of course, my dear." Pointing to his left, he motioned to a silver-haired woman a little taller than Phryne and who appeared to have her daughter's regal bearing. Jack could see where Phryne got her beauty; Margaret Fisher smiled at him and held out her hand.

"So you're Jack Robinson. I've heard so much talk of you from Phryne and Henry. It's so nice to finally meet you." Jack made a small bow over her hand.

"The same, Baroness."

"Please call me Margaret. How have you been enjoying the city? I do hope my daughter has been a proper hostess. She does have a tendency to show people the more...interesting...parts of London." At that point, Jack couldn't help but laugh. Phryne was indignant.

"She's been a gracious host and tour guide," said Jack, before Phryne could protest. "As my time here is limited, I'm glad to finally see things in the city that I've only read about. I'm afraid I never made it here during the War. All my service time was spent on the continent and then I was on my way back to Australia." Margaret looked pleased.

"Your lovely accent takes me back there. My sister Prudence keeps writing for me to come visit her and Phryne, but for now I think it best to stay where we are. One never knows what tomorrow might bring." There was a tinge of sadness to her words and Jack couldn't help thinking she looked rather frail, but no sooner had he thought such things then Margaret turned to Phryne and lovingly complimented her dress and they began to gossip about the assorted guests.

"So how long will you be in London, Jack?" Henry took another drink from his cocktail and gave Jack a hard look.

"I have to be back in Melbourne by the beginning of September so I've only got a few more weeks here."

"I'm assuming you want Phryne to go back with you?"

"While the decision is ultimately hers, I confess I'm hoping to persuade her to come home."

"Home?" Henry looked affronted. "This is her home. She belongs here." Jack blinked at Henry as though he was looking at a completely different person.

"Baron, you've seen her in Australia. The people she's gathered around her as her makeshift family. They're all just as dear to her as blood relatives. She's happy there and has been for some time. Or didn't you pick up on that when we were all trying to save your life?"

Henry's eyes flashed in anger and he started to argue back but Phryne suddenly grabbed Jack's hand. "The answer is yes."

"What?"

"When you get on that ship to go back home, I'm coming with you. It's time. And before you start," she pointed at Henry, "I've been thinking about this since before Jack showed up here, so he didn't push me into any decision. He just finally gave me a timetable to do it."

"Phryne, be sensible..."

"Jack darling, I think I hear the orchestra playing a waltz and you did promise me a dance. Goodbye, mother. I'll ring you in a few days and we can have tea." Jack nodded to Margaret politely, the sudden departure not allowing him a proper goodbye. "Let's go." For the second time that night, he felt himself pulled another direction to avoid a conversation.

"Miss Fisher, I don't wish to be any source of contention between you and your family."

"Jack, please. You know my father and what he's up to. And you aren't the source of contention, I am. I always have been." They found themselves on the other side of the ballroom in short time headed toward the doors to the gardens. "Let's go out for a walk instead. I need some air."

It was a calm, still night and the fountains in the courtyard were splashing merrily as any number of finely dressed people walked past enjoying the quieter sounds in the gardens. Jack and Phryne found themselves circling the path, once and then twice, delaying going back inside. He found a small bench in one corner of the gardens and motioned to her to have a seat. Once he sat down beside her, she leaned into him, hoping to absorb not only his warmth, but some facet of his strength as well. Many minutes passed before she spoke.

"I'm so tired, Jack."

"I know." He gently turned her face toward him and let his fingers caress her chin and bottom lip. "I know you feel responsible for your family, but your family in Australia needs you too. I don't mean that to sound like we demand anything from you, just that we want you to be happy."

She gave him a wobbly smile and took a deep breath. "You're all so dear to me. Well..." she arched an eyebrow, "you seem to have taken the top place in my thoughts." He made a low sound deep in his throat and Phryne thrilled at how it made her feel.

"We've been sitting long enough. May I have this dance, Miss Fisher?" He stood and held out his hand for her to join him.

"Out here? We can barely hear the music."

He shrugged. "This way I know I won't step on anyone else's feet."

"I never have been able to refuse a handsome Inspector's request. Especially when there's a waltz involved." Phryne took Jack's hand and melted into his arms as she'd wanted to do all night. His embrace was steady and self-assured. Neither of them noticed the glances of other guests who had come to stroll in the garden. The world was theirs and theirs alone.


The ball had come to an end an hour previously and they had finally managed to get back to their car. It had certainly been an evening to remember. Once Phryne and Jack had come back inside, they spent the rest of the evening watching the other guests, chatting with other members of the nobility, a few celebrities, and Jack had even shaken the hands of and made small talk with the Prime Minister and the Duke of Kent. How Phryne had come to know either of the gentlemen baffled him, but then, it was a familiar feeling where she was concerned.

Phryne for her part had wanted to show Jack off to as many people as she could. She could see he'd made an impression on a number of people, not just for his handsome looks, but his demeanor and intelligence. She wanted no one saying she'd "settled" for anyone by living in the Antipodes, especially as a Baron's daughter. Jack was worth every second of her time.

"Would you like to come in for a nightcap?" They stood outside her front door watching the hired car drive away; Phryne had her keys in hand, still swaying to the memory of music and dancing in the moonlight.

"Not tonight, Miss Fisher."

She looked at him, confused. "Why on earth not?"

He hesitated for a moment and spoke softly. "Because if I come inside, I won't be leaving." Her eyes widened in sudden understanding and she moved closer to him, wanting the distance between them to shrink.

"Perhaps I don't want you to leave?" Her eyes were focused on him in all seriousness and Jack returned her gaze with the same intensity.

"Not yet, Phryne. Soon, but not tonight. We have all the time in the world."

"Then we shouldn't waste it."

"I don't consider this time wasted. Merely...delayed."

"Jack, if we delay any more we'll be going backwards." His only response was to pull her in his arms and begin to trail feather-light kisses across her jaw and down her neck, listening to her sigh. She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her fingers brush through his hair, wanting him to continue. But he pulled away and left one last, all-too-brief kiss on her lips.

"Good night, Miss Fisher." He started down the sidewalk leaving her standing at her door, smirking at his retreating figure. When he looked back to gauge her response, she blew him a saucy kiss and laughed as she went inside.

The next morning Phryne was on the phone to the shipping line securing her ticket on Jack's boat. She knew her mother was not going to like getting the news that she was headed back to Australia but she had spent far too long in London and it was past time to go home. Not to mention the sooner she got away from her father the less likely she'd be to throttle him with her bare hands. Distance was a good way to discourage homicide.

The maid had the wireless in the kitchen tuned to some drama and Phryne heard snippets whenever things got very exciting. "...it's not the malaria that has me shaking, you adorable fool!..." She heard the doorbell chime as she was finishing up a late breakfast and saw Fiona dash to answer the door. The conversation was brief as a minute later she came in the dining room and handed Phryne a card. "An invitation from Lord and Lady Hamilton for dinner, miss. I was told to tell you they were delighted to see you last night at the ball and hope you and Inspector Robinson would join them."

"Did they say when?"

"It wouldn't be for several weeks."

"Oh, that is a shame as Jack and I will be on our way back to Australia by then," she replied, not even remotely sorry to getting out of another boring dinner. Fiona looked horrified.

"Back to Australia? But...but miss! Pardon my being so forward but...but...what about...my position? Jobs is scarce nowadays and I can't go with you because of my Terry..." Phryne cut her off before Fiona could work herself into a state.

"Relax, Fiona. Your job here is safe. My cousin Guy and his wife Isabella will be living here when I leave. Aunt Prudence will be furious, but Guy has no desire to stay in Melbourne and due to his spending money like water, would never be able to pay for a home like this and I won't let him drain Aunt P. So I'm letting it out to them even though I know full well I'll never see a dime of rent money. But I'll be the one employing you to stay here."

Her relief was palpable. "Oh miss! I'm so grateful! You're so kind!"

"Yes, well, after you've spent a few days with Isabella, you may decide anywhere is better than here," said Phryne. She went back to drinking her tea and looking over the newspaper.

The doorbell sounded again and the faithful maid dashed off only this time to return with Jack.

"A much better delivery, Fiona!" Phryne bounced out of her chair and gave Jack a sound kiss. He seemed a bit floored with the enthusiastic greeting but recovered quickly enough to return her kiss with equal intensity. "Much better, indeed," she managed to gasp after a few breathless minutes.

"And a very good morning to you too, Miss Fisher." His hands were still clutching her hips, seemingly unable to let go. He gave her one of his half-smiles that made her heart race just a little faster every time he did it. She shook her head to regain control of her senses.

"I insist you greet me like that every morning, Inspector."

"If I did that, Miss Fisher, we'd never get to the rest of the day."

"This is a problem, how?" Rolling his eyes a little, he finally let go of her and went over to the table to help himself to tea. Phryne flounced back into the chair she had been in and pushed a plate of scones his direction. "I know you won't have a problem with these."

Jack helped himself and grinned. "These are excellent but I must admit to missing Mr. Butler's meals. The last one I had was the night before I left Melbourne. The bouillabaisse was inspired. Henri-Paul Pellaprat would have been envious." Phryne pouted.

"I should cable ahead and let him know to have a menu prepared for when we get back."

"Beg pardon?"

Her eyes danced at telling him her new information. "I telephoned the shipping line this morning, and I have a cabin on the SS Orontes, which I believe is the same ship you'll be on, correct?"

"You're coming back with me?" Jack actually dropped his scone.

"It's time. And I need to go home, " said Phryne.

"What about your plane?"

"Oh, I sold that several months ago. Not to mention it never would have made it all the way back so I would have ended up having to catch a train and then a boat. At least this way I have far more pleasant company to enjoy." Her blue eyes met his and they both felt a surge of joy.

Jack had never been prone to overt displays of affection or even strong emotion, but the knowledge that Phryne was coming back to Melbourne and that she cared for him, maybe even loved him, made him want to shout in triumph. But true to his nature, he calmly held out his hand for her and pulled her toward him again, making sure this kiss expressed everything he was unable to say.


"Mother, surely you understand? I have been in England far too long and you don't need my help any longer. There are people in Australia that do need me."

Margaret Fisher watched her daughter's animated face from across the table and sighed. If she'd had any sort of excuse, she'd have used it right then, just to keep her only child from leaving her one more time. But she also knew Phryne could never be tied down and forcing her to stay somewhere was like watching a flower wilt.

"I understand, Phryne. I'll just miss you terribly, is all."

Phryne's face softened and got up from her chair to embrace her mother. "I will miss you as well. I can't say that enough."

"You...you will put flowers on Janey's grave for me, won't you? And tell her that there's not a day goes by that I don't think of her, too." Margaret's eyes welled up at the memory of her youngest child, taken from her far too soon.

"Of course I will. I would do no less for you."

"Thank you, my dear." Gently patting Phryne's face, Margaret turned to sit back down again, using the handkerchief she'd tucked in her sleeve to wipe her eyes. "You really should have brought your Jack with you today as I didn't get much of a chance to speak to him at the ball the other night. He really is more than you've described in your letters about him. And he seems to truly adore you."

Phryne could say with some assurance that the last time she'd truly blushed was when she was thirteen and the handsomest boy in the whole school had chosen her to dance with during a summer garden party. So when she felt her cheeks blaze with heat she was thrown as to how to respond.

"He went to go explore Westminster Abbey without me so he could do so at leisure. I'd have ended up rushing him through. He...puts up with me. I barge in on his investigations and pester him about information and demand he help me on cases or I take over his when I know he'd rather be elsewhere." Her hand waved in the air as though it was nothing.

"Looks to me like there's nowhere he'd rather be than beside you," said Margaret. "If what I saw in the gardens was any indication I believe the feeling is mutual." She sipped her tea while giving Phryne a very sly look.

"Don't tease, mother. I have no idea how long we'll be able to tolerate each other but for now...I feel like I have a...best friend." She seemed stunned by her own realization. Men were to be played with and seduced and then let go in order to find another. The fact that Jack had been a constant in her life for over two years was unheard of and she should have been running away a long time ago. But she simply couldn't imagine her life without him now. His absence over the last nine months had drained her more than even she comprehended; the day she saw him standing in her home was the day she felt like her true self again. It was a frightening idea and yet nothing had ever felt so right.

Her mother was looking at her curiously. "Phryne?"

"I suppose I'm stunned by the idea that I can have a close friend that isn't female. One that I want to see all the time. One that I might want more from in the future. I think. Perhaps." Her mother's eyes widened first in surprise then in astonishment. She'd never seen Phryne so flustered.

"My darling girl," Margaret gently responded, "our greatest loves are the ones we first make our greatest friends. Don't shut Jack out now because you've realized his worth as a friend to you. If he is the man I suspect he is he considers you just as vital. You've always loved adventure. Make this the most exciting adventure yet."

Phryne closed her eyes and let her mother's words sink in for a few minutes. If anyone was worthy of respect and consideration it was certainly Jack Robinson. She had always sworn she could never commit to one man, that it wasn't in her nature to settle down or even, heaven forbid, marry. She still wasn't sure she could do those things. But for the first time in her life, Jack made her at least want to try. She gave her mother a loving look.

"We will certainly have plenty of time to talk once we get on board the ship. Forty-two days with nowhere to escape can force a person to make some definitive decisions about their lives. I should go ahead and issue my abject apologies to all the other passengers now." Margaret burst out laughing and the sound echoing through the room made Phryne join in.


The animation on the docks was the definition of controlled chaos as cargo, luggage, vehicles, passengers, crew and spectators swarmed every direction imaginable. Phryne was particularly eagle-eyed watching the porters wheel her luggage away along with Jack's trunk making sure nothing was damaged in the swirl of activity.

"Are you sure there's nothing else you'd like to get to take back to Melbourne?" said Phryne.

"I have my trunk and you, Miss Fisher. That basically ticks every box on my list." Jack couldn't help but give her a quick kiss before putting his arm around her waist. Phryne's eyes gleamed.

"Six weeks uninterrupted on a ship. Whatever will we do to pass the time?" Her hands ran up and down the lapels of his suit coat and he again gave a low sound in his throat that only she could hear.

"Something tells me it won't be as monotonous as the trip here. Where we go, things just seem to happen."

"Of course they do, Jack. Without us, the world would be ever so boring. It's time to remind them of that."