S3 E3: Murder and Mozzarella (minor spoilers?)
Set after Concetta's proposal but before they kiss. This is how I imagine some of the in between scenes unfolding, with no personal claim to the story itself.
The bedside alarm clock rang out before sun up, eliciting a quiet grown from Jack Robinson. He brusquely threw back the corner of his covers and swung his feet to the floor, landing them there with a loud thud. He felt like a study in contradictions at this moment. Dinner last night was wonderful, and left him feeling buoyant. However, the late hour he stayed out until, and the many conflicting thoughts running through his tired head now made him feel foggy and heavy.
With his elbows on his knees, Jack lowered his face to his palms and breathed deeply. A quick swipe of his hands brought his laced fingers to his lips as he scowled, not so much at the floor but more at the idea that sleep did not in fact bring more him more clarity. Still, he could not stifle a quick chuckle that effectively banished the heaviness he was feeling and brought a smile to his face. How had he, a quiet and disciplined officer of the law, become the object of affection of a woman with ties to the Camorra?
Concetta had all but proposed marriage to him before dinner last night. He recalled the image of her smiling after she laid out her thoughts to him and denounced her family; she looked lovely. She cared immensely for him, and he was not used to being treated with as much love as she was careful to convey. His smile faded; however, when he recalled the way she was acutely aware of her grandfather's opinion of herself. Jack knew what it was like to be viewed as less than you are, but to be viewed as not only an object to barter with, but an animal? If this was the way her own family saw her, then how did she ever become such a strong and compassionate woman? For as much love as she poured out, she deserved to receive some in return.
The detective went mindlessly about his morning, repeating all of the familiar tasks of preparing himself for the day while he allowed himself to reminisce about the lovely evening they had together. The only alteration to his daily routine was the smile now gracing his face. Jack realized this departure as he was making his side of the bed, and it caused him to take pause. Jack had adopted this chore early on in his marriage to Rosie out of necessity, but it had been many years since he had to wipe away a head indention from the neighboring pillow. It had been many years since he had any sort of domestic companionship. He wasn't the sort of person who needed other people in order to feel alive. In fact, he enjoyed quiet time reserved only for himself. During his marriage (after he lost his right to privacy) he accomplished this by reading in the evenings. In those moments, Rosie usually took his cue and settled into a companionable silence in the chair next to him to knit, read, or mend his clothes. Eventually, he got used to constantly having someone around.
Things were different now. Now, he walked into an empty house when he returned home from work, and it was an emptiness so tangible that it followed him around his home like a pet. When he prepared himself dinner, it wound itself around his legs demanding to be noticed, and when he sat to read, it laid on his feet, making it hard for him to concentrate on his book. He avoided his home as much as he could these days because he missed sharing it with another person, even if it was just to know someone else was there.
"This," he thought while closing his door and locked the emptiness in behind it, "is what I want to be rid of."
...
Jack had been acquainted with Concetta for quite a while. He had previously surmised that her husband was a difficult man, but he had never before spoken with Concetta about her family life in such a personal way; he dared not push for any information that could be related to the case and essentially shatter the delicate magic of the evening. Jack recalled the way Concetta's radiant brown eyes intimately locked onto his when they spoke, and he relished her loving attentions. Through her compassion and soft words, he could tell that she was a woman endowed with the type of wisdom that only comes through experience. No doubt she had struggled through a loveless marriage while her husband was alive. Jack knew first hand about loveless marriages. He knew that even in such a marriage, a dedicated spouse would do whatever they could to create a happy home, and he wondered how that manifested itself in Concetta's life.
The inspector struggled to use the time during his drive to the station to focus on the day before him and the clues that had come to light; however, his mind was always pulled to Concetta's proposal whenever considering the Strano family. Slowly, his feelings towards the Strano patriarch were becoming biased, so he halfheartedly admonished himself for allowing himself get involved with the woman and possibly compromising his judgment during the investigation. But, he reasoned that he was not yet on duty. Hopefully he would be able to pull himself together before he reached the station.
...
It was an unusual experience for Jack to try and avoid Miss Fisher's residence, but as it was, she had (of course) attained sensitive material regarding the case. He felt his headache from the morning begin to pound, and he dreaded walking into whatever gloating Miss Fisher wished to lather on him. Gripping the steering wheel, he momentarily squeezed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to subdue his headache.
He knew that Phryne could be unruly and at times difficult, but last night showed him that he deserved more than the baseless flirtation and heartache that Miss Fisher seemed so keen to inflict upon him lately. Jack scoffed as he remembered how they eventually came to an amicable understanding of their relationship after the situation at the RAAF, but he was still feeling very bruised and a little sheepish about the whole incident. After that day, it was clear to him that Phryne saw him as just a friend with whom she enjoyed an occasional flirt, regardless of whether or not he had wanted more from their relationship. In the end, he was altogether fed up with playing Miss Fisher's games.
...
Jack never presumed to guess what Miss Fisher was thinking at any one moment; he was sure that his guess would almost always be wrong. However, he did consider himself an observant man and had noticed her acting strangely during this case. On a few instances he even certainly (he thought) witnessed a bit of jealousy bubbling over her usually charming demeanor. And moreover, he got the impression that Phryne was even trying to make up for the many times she had toyed with him. What a bother all of this was turning out to be. He reasoned that more than likely, Miss Fisher saw that she was falling out of his good graces, and she didn't want to lose the benefits that a close friendship with a police officer afforded her detective work.
...
From the moment Constable Collins had telephoned him about this case, Jack knew he was in for a trying couple of days. Sitting at his desk staring at the box of evidence Miss Fisher had handed over earlier in the day without one word of protest or special request, Jack had never been so confused or utterly unsure of the evidence before him.
His case was all tied up well, but his personal life seemed incomprehensible. Phryne had stood by his side once again, a paragon of confidence and undoubtedly the most dedicated partner he had as of yet in his career. He knew the Camorra would not scare her off the case, but he could not believe she would put herself in the position to be face to face with the padrino, and hold him at gunpoint no less. He leaned back in his chair and mindlessly tapped his pen on his desk. After Salvatore was handcuffed and put in the police car, she stood idly by without any word of objection or encouragement while he made plans to visit Concetta at the restaurant that night. She could have driven away. They drove separately, so there was nothing keeping her at the crime scene. He pulled the box forward and shot a glance inside while he mulled over his thoughts. At first, he thought that maybe she had something she wanted to say to him before she left, but all she offered was a weak goodbye before turning on her heels and walking to her car. He had noticed the extra sway she put into her hips when she went; heck, every male eye in the area had.
He thumbed through Nona Louisa's account book that Phryne had inspected earlier in the day. Perhaps she had intended to tease him about his relationship with Concetta and thought better of it. Jack tossed the small book back into the box and looked at the clock. He reminded himself that it was better not to try to imagine what Phryne might be thinking at any one moment, and he stood to ready himself for his date.