Summary:
Almost episode tag (there's a bit at the end that breaks the Phryne and Jack closeout pattern in this episode) for Season 1, Episode 11: Blood and Circuses. This is meant to expand the conversation and to help bridge the gap between Episode 11 and 12.
Also, this is a birthday present (a bit late) for my dear friend, TheInspectorsSecretStash. 3 Big love and massive hugs!
"Good evening, Inspector."
"Mr. Butler. Is she in?"
"Yes, She's…" Mr. Butler paused, weighing the situation, "unarmed."
"Ah… I should go…"
"No. No, I think she needs to see you."
Jack nodded. He removed his coat and hat and hung them on the hook.
Mr. Butler quietly rapped on the parlour door, "Miss?"
He opened the door without response from the other side.
"The Inspector, Miss," he announced.
Jack entered the room despite her lack of acknowledgement as Mr. Butler left. Jack's heart immediately clenched. Mr. Butler had been accurate. She was without her armour. She was folded around herself without her warpaint. He knew she had been affected by the threat of Foyle, but she looked so vulnerable.
Her damp eyes met his as she gathered her strength, "Did Grossmith talk?"
He really wanted nothing more than to hold her. Not only would that be wildly inappropriate, but he knew she wouldn't want it.
Not yet. It wasn't the time.
They were out of balance. He still wore his suit of woolen armour, and she… she was vulnerable.
He chose to be direct, "Foyle's dead." Her eyes told him she didn't believe it. "The plan he cooked up relied on the bodies not being claimed. But when his mother got the news...she asked for him to be cremated. He would have been burned alive."
Emotions quickly cascaded over her face.
Jack shoved his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching for her, "I'm afraid that means you won't get your answers."
Phryne's face finally settled to sad acceptance, "I already have the answer. All this time and energy trying to find out what happened…" The clock ticked angrily. Phryne swallowed back all of her pain, "When I've known all along.
"I was mesmerized by the show. I didn't notice her go. And when I did…" she sniffled trying to hold back the tears. It wasn't working. "It was too late."
Jack's heart broke as he watched her take on all the shame that didn't belong to her. He shook his head and took a seat next to her, "You were just a child."
"It was my fault," she protested.
"No," Jack shook his head, his own eyes dampening at her pain. When had he come to care so deeply for her? "No, I can't agree. I dismiss the charges."
"You can't," she shook her head sadly, "I lost her, Jack. I lost her."
He wanted to take away this pain. Take it for his own if he could—not that she'd ever allow that.
Jack sat with her in silence for what could have been minutes, or hours, or…
Finally he stood, taking off his suit coat. That got her attention. She watched as he folded it over the arm of the chair he'd just vacated. His unexpected movement had done what he'd hoped, shook her out of her morose trance.
"Jack?"
He walked over to the drink cart and poured two bourbons.
"Medicinal. Come sit with me," he offered her his hand after giving her the drink.
She looked deeply confused, "Jack? I don't… "
"Just for a bit."
Her eyes softened as she met his warm gaze, "All right."
They sat together silently on the chaise for a few minutes, occasionally sipping their drinks.
"Tell me about her," Jack finally said, rousing Phryne out of the retrospective trance she'd fallen into again.
"About the day she disappeared?" Phryne's voice was gritty and faint.
Jack set his glass down on the table and easily—as if this was not a brand-new thing, as if this easy unarmed comfort was as well-worn and time-tested as he was—unfolded her so that her feet were in his lap.
Phryne stared at him, unsure of what he was doing. This was a new level of intimacy.
"No," he said as he began massaging her feet, "tell me about a happy day."
Phryne rested her head against her arm, enjoying the firm circular pressure on the balls of her feet.
"There weren't many of those," Phryne sighed, "And usually when Father wasn't around. He was… unstable."
Jack nodded in understanding. She'd never told him the details of her life—bits and pieces, here and there. Jack was a good detective. He'd mostly filled in the blanks.
"Tell me one," he massaged her toes.
Phryne closed her eyes, "You know we weren't wealthy? Not yet."
"I'd gathered."
"Mrs. Charlesworth had convinced Father to let me stay in school. He didn't see the point of it, but since Aunt P had paid for our uniforms… and it kept us out of his hair… he agreed.
"Mrs. C had been teaching us about Mary Bryant and her escape from Australia. I became obsessed with her. She made it out of the Australian penal colony by stealing a open boat.
"I think I was always looking for an escape. Breaking out of my prison of circumstance. I'd always take Janey with me, of course. We'd sail away to Timor like Mary… or pilot a balloon to the moon… or… "
"Or run away with the circus?" Jack guessed.
"Or run away with the circus," Phryne nodded.
"Did Janey always go along with your plans?"
"She usually was happy to do whatever I dreamt up. She liked playing pirates the best though, I think. She wasn't as fascinated with acrobatics and magic as I was."
"Do you think she wanted to leave, too?" Jack asked.
Phryne rested her chin on her wrist, "I always assumed. I've thought about it a lot since… she was always Father's favorite. And mother's. I think she just wanted to appease me and my wild ideas."
"It's hard to imagine you as the instigator," Jack smiled sarcastically.
"Ha. Ha." Phryne said dryly. She smiled at untold memories of playing pirates of the high seas before a darkness passed over her eyes again.
"Once Janey was gone... " Tears filled her eyes. Jack stopped rubbing her feet while she composed herself. "Once Janey was gone… I couldn't leave. Mother was bereft and unconsolable.
"Father… Father blamed me."
Jack clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, trying to keep his calm. He wasn't forming a great opinion of Phryne's Father so far, but this move… this move was beyond the pale. He watched her for a few beats trying to reconcile the strong, self-reliant Miss Fisher he'd come to know with the doubt-filled child of a feckless ne'er do well, "And you believed him."
Phryne furrowed her brow, "I... "
"This man who you've already described as unstable?" Jack was barely able to contain his contempt for her father.
"I suppose there's a first time for everything," Phryne smiled feebly, "Janey was my responsibility…"
"You were a child. Janey was a child. From everything I've learned, your father was… not reliable. But, Phryne…"
His use of her name caught her attention. He used it so sparingly that it had a powerful impact on her when he did.
"Phryne, Janey's disappearance is not your fault. It isn't even your Father's fault. It's Foyle's. No one else. And he's gone."
She frowned at him, trying to process this new perspective.
"Her shadow still follows me."
Jack nodded, "I know. It will. The shadows of doubt still follow me from the war. Is there something I could have done differently? Would my comrades be alive if I had been a better soldier?"
"That's different, Jack. That's war. You didn't have much of a choice."
"And you did?" Jack tilted his head toward her.
She stared at him trying to form a rebuttal to this, and finding none she thinned her lips, "You really are irritating, Jack Robinson," she scowled at him, with a slight twinkle in her eye.
Jack smiled lightly in relief. This was getting closer to the Phryne he'd come to… what? He dropped his eyes to her feet in his lap. He did have to acknowledge, at least to himself, that he'd grown quite fond of this woman. He liked her. He enjoyed her company. He valued her brilliance. He… well, he cared for her. He was getting dangerously close to an impropriety that he couldn't handle.
Not yet. It wasn't the time.
"You're the irritating one," he said squeezing her toes and lightening the mood, "Always barging into my crime scenes…"
" Your crime scenes! Some of them are mine too," she swatted lightly at his shoulder.
"Because you stick your nose where it doesn't belong. Haranguing police and the loved ones of victims until they have no choice but to let you in," Jack said in a playful voice.
"Haranguing!" Phryne sat up straight, but kept her feet in his lap. He lightly ran his finger along the arch of her foot. She squirmed and barked a laugh, "JACK!"
"Ticklish. Noted," he smiled smugly at her.
She rolled her eyes at him with a smile until the shadow passed over her again. "So, I'm irritating? And here I thought you were enjoying me."
Jack thought about cracking wise again, but something in her eyes said she craved honesty from him now. He took a deep breath and swallowed his fear, "When I first met you, you were a like a grain of sand, you got under my shell and bothered me terribly. But you've gradually been becoming more and more precious to me. That small irritation has transformed into a shiny pearl."
"Jack…" she whispered, overwhelmed by his statement.
He suddenly looked embarrassed and ill at ease.
"It's been an emotional and difficult day, you should get some rest," he said with a pat on her foot.
"Thank you, Jack," she said pulling her feet away and placing them on the floor, "Thank you for helping me through the shadows."
Jack stood to leave, "Any time, Miss Fisher."