"Wedding Night" – A follow-up to "Almost too Late"
Phryne had heard a lot of activity while she was getting undressed. She thought it was Jack pacing away his nerves, but seeing the sight before her she believed that tonight Jack didn't have a nervous atom in his entire body. He had somehow, and she suspected with Dot's help in the acquiring, scattered dozens of votive candles around the room. All the other lights were switched off. The corners of the room as she remembered them had disappeared in the darkness. There was just this flickering magical circle of light in the center. His initial strong pull on her arm relaxed into a coil as he drew her forward to the table he had set. She watched her slippered foot step inside this magic circle willingly. Her mind lingered on the word "willingly".
She walked holding Jack's arm as if hypnotized. The atmosphere he created reminded her of those small family chapels she had visited in Italy. Not a church chapel. Something more warm and intimate. The solemnity was present. The reverence. A sense of overwhelming peace. Rich men had taken her to the most extravagant and exquisitely furnished restaurants all over Europe, but nowhere she had been was more beautiful than this room tonight. The fact that this dear man could still surprise her like this brought a brief tear to her eye and made her love him even more; if that were possible. Even if they never consummated their feelings and she was struck down where she stood, the way she felt in this room, at this moment, would make her fill with happiness for the rest of her life on its recalling. She felt a little ashamed for not wearing panties and pulled the pajama top down as far as it would reach. That gesture did not escape Jack's eye as he pulled out a chair for her. The flowers arranged for by Mac gave off a sweet scent and made her close her eyes to inhale. Could she and Jack live here, die here, be reborn here over and over again? Jack's face was glowing at seeing her this way. Every book, every sonnet, every line of love poetry he had ever read went into preparing for this night. Hugh had noticed his distraction over the last few days, but thought it had to do with the trial. The inspector's unusual restlessness. Phone calls with his office door closed. His popping in and out of the station on errands. It had all been for her.
When Jack was finally seated, he reached for the champagne. Phryne's eye caught the label. Another sleight of hand by this sexy conjurer? Had cousin Guy gifted him…? How many bottles were hidden under the tablecloth? Were they crammed all this time in Jack's home icebox? A man with a plan indeed! Cousin Guy loved her and he must have noticed that something important had passed between them that night when he saw her leaving his changing room. Was she a bit dazed perhaps? Well, there certainly was something about the looks they shared when she unknotted Jack's tie. Something that registered in her heart and not to be forgotten. Knowing Guy, he probably suspected something a little less chaste. Dear Guy and that lascivious fiancée, now wife, of his! They could only imagine what a pure and refined use the delicious liquid would be put to as the night progressed. Phryne took the glass from Jack and raised it.
Jack, in the deepest, most compelling voice he could muster said, "Phryne, it seemed like my life began anew after I met you. You've probably guessed that it didn't take long for me to fall in love with you. It seemed like the most foolhardy thing a logical man like me could imagine doing. But, I seemed to burn for you at all hours of the day and night. And I know you knew. Y our touches, your words, your eyes, kept me from giving up hope. Your, er, involvements, gave me many a desperate hour and sometimes cut me to the core, but I promised you that night that I would never try to change you. I know that you only admitted, yes, admitted, don't distract me, Miss Fisher, recently that you were in love with me. Though, I think you've known for a while now. And I know now that I'm the only man you love. Ah, tut, tut. Yes, Phryne, don't spoil this with more of your teasing. This is serious. I want to tell you that that makes me feel incredibly proud. Proud that I've earned that…honor…I'm not sure what to call it at this very important moment." As Jack's eyes began to fill with tears, Phryne thought she would burst with joy at how much this one man meant to her and how she knew she never wanted to hurt him again. And how she knew that she never wanted to let him go!
Phryne followed his kind eyes full of flickering light, then dropped her gaze to his mouth, his throat and finally down to his broad chest. So she wasn't really sorry about pilfering the pajama top at this very moment, but in looking at him, Jack seemed perfectly at ease without his standard policeman's uniform. Her eyes lingered on the bayonet scar just at the start of his lower ribcage. The field surgeon, knowing the wound wasn't likely fatal, had hurriedly sewn it up and left the edges ragged and bumpy. Some areas had faded after ten years, but she reached out to touch it thinking he might stop her, but he didn't.
He had unpacked the first hamper, secreting its ingredients into the icebox upon their arrival. It had been filled with her favorite caviar, enormous prawns, and a small white cake that smelled of coconut and some other tropical perfume. That dear . If she ever returned to earth she would award him her own personal Michelin star! They talked of their very different childhoods, their schooling, their families, learning to swim. They laughed. Phryne thought that this man hadn't laughed this way in a very long time. Not like this. And it made her smile ever the wider. Jack served the dessert and kept filling their glasses. To Jack, this was the most delicious meal he'd ever eaten. Better than ambrosia. The gods would surely be jealous of them tonight. When the passion fruit filling at the core of the cake melted on her tongue, Phryne could feel the perfume seeping through the base of her skull and wrapping around every synapse in her brain virtually stopping all thought. She closed her eyes for what seemed like a lifetime.
" Phryne, are you all right? Phryne?"
" Jack, you are still there across from me aren't you?" She was afraid to open her eyes until she heard him say "yes". He held her hand
" Jack, this cottage does exist in reality, doesn't it? It's not a dream that might disintegrate if I open my eyes?" He squeezed her hand firmly and said "no".
"How could I not have admitted how much I loved you sooner, my dear Jack? We've wasted so much time!"
And her eyes opened to look at him before she began to sob. Before Jack could rise from the table to offer her comfort, she had a hand to her mouth suppressing the need to go on crying. She didn't want to spoil the evening with tears.
" Phryne, it's a simple answer. You needed the time. You needed to make up your own mind. I understand that it was a big decision on your part, believe me I do. I'm sorry that the decision only rooted itself so deeply AFTER you thought I was dead…oh, dear, please don't cry again. Sometimes a shock is necessary for someone like you to accept something you think is against your very nature and stated personal beliefs. What I want to know, and we have never talked about it, was how did the war change that wild pirate girl from Collingwood into the accomplished, brilliant and generous woman I fell in love with? If you try and tell me that, maybe I can finally tell you about my experiences. And we both can put the war behind us and be the people we are now as a result of those same experiences."
Phryne nodded. She told him how her father had left them not long after Janey went missing. The war had begun. She was still a teenager when she saw the newspaper ad. "Nurses Needed in France. Good pay. Training provided." She often got in trouble in school, but one teacher who knew her well gave her a recommendation, noting her ability to learn things quickly, her fearlessness, and her spunk. After her training, she knew she could do the job. Her main motive in considering the training, of course, was to try and help support her cherished mother. Her friends came with her to the dock that day and along with her mother hugged her and wished her safe from harm. Mac seemed more worried than her mother. Was there something Mac knew about her as her closest friend? Something about her character and how she had changed after losing Janey? She thought so. More training was in store for her on the long voyage. The matrons wanted to be sure their eager volunteers were respected for their nursing skills and not made to only wash bandages and make beds.
Arriving in Calais months later, she found herself volunteering for a field hospital assignment. She wasn't sure exactly why she wanted to put herself in the midst of it all so soon, but she wanted to be somewhere where she could do the most good. It was a hellish ride to the relief station. She saw the tents just as the sun was setting. There were hours of formalities, duty reviews, assignments, routines to learn. Her uniform didn't fit very well, but she didn't really care. It seemed like a challenge keeping her thick hair coiled under her nurse's cap. She and the rest of the volunteers were segregated for the first two weeks. Mostly older women. Some girls like her had come from all walks of life. She seemed to make friends easily and held her own against the snobs.
And then the day came. She didn't need to spend a lot of time on the horrors since Jack had experienced them first hand. She did endless bandaging, bed making, hand holding, and letter writing for those who no longer could hold a pen. Then the day came when everything would change. The first maimed boy who died in her arms transformed her violently. Something akin to armor, sort of like a Roman soldier's cuirass, had clamped over her chest and encased her heart. Phryne knew she couldn't survive if every tender death weighed on her this way. She would surely sink to the center of the earth under the weight. Her new armor helped. She did well. The doctors were impressed with her capacity to absorb it all without flinching. When she sent money to her mother, she never mentioned her experiences in fear that her mother would be overcome by guilt at her brave daughter's sacrifice. The stench of dried blood was always with her, but she had to be there for them. So many. Each sortee more fruitless than the last it seemed. Cadres of men chewed to pieces by the new German guns. On windy nights she could smell the chlorine as it drifted and dissipated. Instead of beautiful sunsets the mustard gas left its own deadly aurora borealis in the sky. And this is how it was for her, year after punishing year. No feeling. Seeming total immunity from pain. Safe from possible wounding through emotional and romantic attachments.
On leaves from the front, she and her friends visited small local towns. It was as if in a dream as she developed a taste for absinthe and dance halls. She kept a keen watch on her sanity. And then something else had entered her mind as time wore on as she danced round and round with death every shift. Had she completely lost touch with herself? Was all of her life now going on inside her head and the exterior was just rough armor plating going through the robotic gestures needed every day as she carried out her duties? She suddenly wanted to know why she was still living. Most days she was nothing more than the last face the boys saw before they departed the earth. The finest surgeons in the world would have thrown up their hands. She hadn't cried for as long as she could remember. After a particular difficult day she noticed a poster hanging in the nurses' mess. There would be a new ambulance corps. Modern methods of triage were being implemented by the brave surgeons trying to turn the casualty tide of this war knowing that their pleas to the incompetent generals went unheard and unheeded. They must need nurses. She volunteered. The other nurses reacted in horror at her news. Was she trying to kill herself? Maybe, she was she thought now. She deserved to be punished for losing her sister. Was this a way to achieve it?
But she didn't die. Here she was. She had survived.
Suddenly Jack leapt to his feet. He understood everything. He regretted pushing her into recalling her past. Why she wouldn't, couldn't, let him in until now. He pulled her up into his arms and was filled with so much compassion for this poor soul he wept. Phryne's mind slipped sideways as she regained her focus and lifted Jack's head off her shoulder and wiped away the tears. He did indeed understand her better than any other man she'd ever known. Any other living person. He certainly knew more about her in this moment than anyone alive. She tried to lighten the mood by insisting that all of her memories couldn't make it in the door of this magical cottage to spoil their night. It would be all right now. A sense of relief had filled her. They could recover it all. She wiped Jack's forehead with her fingertips, patted his thick hair back into place and smiled at him with a look of pure adoration.
"Please, Jack. The weight has fallen away. I promise you. You have helped me remove it by loving me and giving me your understanding. Please, let's go on with your plans. Remember, you said you were in charge? Lead me away from the past. To our future together. Please."
He nodded his head in agreement and squeezed her tightly and was surprised at his own emotional reaction to her confession. His story could wait. There would be time. He didn't want the past to intrude another second on this night. Tonight was going to be about new memories that only the two of them would share.
They had now officially finished eating, had had plenty of champagne, but they hadn't danced. Phryne hadn't noticed that Jack had secreted a small gramophone into the trunk of the Hispano as well as some of his favorite records. It was hidden by the darkness. They were both a little tipsy and flushed from the champagne and the emotions they had just shared. Their renewed focus was evolving into vibrating anticipation. Still, she managed to keep her promise after the tears stop flowing EXCEPT for that one instance when she removed a slipper and ran her foot up one leg of Jack's pajamas. He seemed not to be surprised by feeling her warm foot make its way up his leg but he pinched her big toe and told her she was being disobedient. AGAIN. What was he going to do with this woman? Well, at this point in the evening he had a damn good idea, but was Phryne always going to be this way? And, of course, his immediate answer was "yes" and that's one of the reasons why he loved her. His monk like existence was coming to an end. After years of honoring a pledge to someone he no longer loved, he was about to become a sexual being again, not someone who lived only on work and books and the meager nourishment of being in the same room with her, standing close to her, inhaling her French perfume and drinking her expensive whiskey. It was no longer going to be an unrequited love affair. He, too, was exposing his heart. All the layers of protection, both literal and metaphoric were gone. He had to admit a very small part of himself still seemed exposed and vulnerable, but he had to trust that everything that Phryne had told him was the truth. There was no dissemblance in their relationship now.
Even though the room was taking on a dream like quality with the flickering candlelight, the intermittent shadows cast by the water, and the strange patterns cast by the moonlight, he knew it was all real. Jack admitted to himself that there was no way to predict what the future would hold for them, but whatever happened after this weekend, he was going to find a way to hold onto her, but maybe not as tightly as he wanted so she could still be herself. After all, that's something he had promised her that night in her parlor after the car wreck that nearly broke him in two and prematurely ended their relationship.
They didn't seem to hear the music anymore since they were not keeping up with the syncopation. Phryne had rapturously run her fingers across his hairline, followed the outline of his ears, fondled his soft earlobes, caressed the soft skin at the sides of his neck. She looked up into his face and ran her index finger above his eyebrow, along the side of his eye with eyelashes so long they were still wet with tears. Her focus then became the outlining of his full lips. Round and round she went until he finally smiled widely. They were more or less drifting in each other's arms ever so slowly around the living room. Jack's motions were causing a fog to break out and cover her brain. The room seemed to blur out of focus. All Jack could see were the flashes of Phryne's smile, but her eyes were closed. He then stopped entirely. He wasn't sure when the music had stopped. He let his arms drop and traced a line simultaneously down Phryne's arms thinking, hmmm, that would have been more enjoyable if my fingers weren't tracing a length of blue silk instead of soft flesh. Either way, it had the same effect on Phryne since he could feel her goosebumps under the fine thin silk. His touch appeared to rouse her from her fog with a shiver. She just looked up at him in complete silence. He moved closer to her. He took her arms and placed them around his waist and she joined her hands at the base of his spine. He always thought of closeness like this as an intimate gesture, but they had been this close so many times before he had actually lost count. No, he hadn't. He remembered them all. Especially how he had hesitated in the past to close the distance. Almost always just one step was needed. The one step he was afraid would alter their relationship forever. Those
days of hesitation were over. He had only kissed her on the mouth once before, long ago. It was first a maneuver to keep her safe, then he thought, he felt, it was so much more. At first she seemed to tease him about it during the investigation of the blue fairy murders. He took the teasing as making fun of him though when she kissed him back he recalled actually having a level-headed conversation about it. Can you imagine? Maybe there was something there just for him, but then so many other men came and went after that.
"Jack, you know that she's a dead end where commitment was concerned. You know that she has a love'em and leave'em attitude." He didn't have the confidence then to deal with this new modern woman. But he did now. She hadn't really given him the confidence, but in many different ways she had cultivated it. She had also managed to make him feel that he could be happy again. The war was a long way off. And even though she would always be a part of his memories, so was Rosie. But it was just the two of them now. He felt a need to possess her, but only in the sense that he could no longer share her with other men. And she had willingly agreed to be true to him alone.
He reached out and held her head with his big hands and kept it from rocking back and forth with the music that no longer played. Her eyes flickered open and she smiled. Jack, oh the patient, oh the honorable, oh the upstanding man, kissed her lightly on the lips. She tightened her arms around his waist and reached up to kiss him back. Jack said "Miss Fisher". She suppressed a giggle as he drew out the sound of her name. Phryne took on the posture of a scolded child. He then kissed her again. Brushing her lips softly and ever so slowly. His tongue licked ever so gently the underside of her upper lip tasting champagne, the coconut and the passion fruit all at once. Enticingly delicious. He felt her whole body swoon. He kissed her again. This time deeper and Phryne's lips parted. Her tongue met his in slow infinitesimal revolutions as she held him tighter. His hands dropped from the sides of her face to her back nearly crushing her as the kisses became more and more hungry. Jack's full lips and the ardor being imparted by then, made her dizzy. It wasn't just the champagne. It was just this man. This humble policeman. A tender soul she would keep safe and treasure the rest of her days. She wanted to say so much, mostly apologies for all of her taunting, but all that came out of her mouth between kisses was "Oh, Jack." He loosened his grip for an instant to kiss the side of her throat and her earlobe and finally the skin he could reach above the collar of the pajama top. Phryne kept moving her hands over his shoulders, his back, his chest. Things were going to get out of control between them very soon. There was no going back. Besides being friends, fellow investigators, and sparring partners, they were also going to be lovers. Jack was so lost in the kisses, the kisses he had dreamed about bestowing on his favorite Lady Detective, that he hadn't noticed that her eager hand had slipped under the waistband of his pajamas.
Phryne suddenly broke his concentration as she loudly said, "Underpants! Really Jack, it's all about impenetrable layers with you isn't it?" Looking at him sideways, she knew it was meant purely as a tactic for the sole purpose of slowing her down. He was grinning. He could tell she wasn't wearing underwear when he kissed her and it drove him a little mad. Just as she was reaching for him under his silken confinement, he picked her up, cleared his throat and headed for the bedroom.
Placing her slowly on the bed, he unbuttoned the pajama top. One deep, luscious, seemingly unending kiss, one button. Phryne was doing everything she could to keep her hands under control. Jack tossed the top onto the chair and pulled her down. She was so beautiful in her nakedness. So much more desirable than in a painting! So soft and white like living porcelain with small patches of pink where the sun had touched her. He kneeled next to her, gestured with two fingers and whispered, "Now it's your turn. We are equals after all, dear Phryne." Phryne always enjoyed undressing men, but this time her hands were shaking even as she willed them with her mind to stop. Jack took that as a supreme compliment. He felt her tug hungrily on the bow he had made at the waist. It made a powerful ripple through his entire body. She hooked both thumbs into the sides and pulled on the silk ever so slowly the way he did with her and kept up the searing eye contact. The pajama bottoms were finally reunited with the top. Phryne could hear her breathing in her ears as if she was at the small end of a megaphone. She believed she was panting. And panting hard. Jack smiled like a Cheshire Cat again. She reached up and touched his cheek, his throat, his chest and traced the line of his sternum through his golden chest hairs and down along his midsection to his belly button finally pulling aside his underwear. She was sure the tracings of her fingers left deep red grooves on his skin, but realized the heat of his skin was making her reel and she was beginning to feel lost in a very pleasant hallucinogenic yet erotically charged torpor. Jack's substantial manhood was revealed and she placed a soft kiss on it as it became hard. She then gently stroked it as she laid under him. Next she touched the muscles of his stomach as she reached around his waist to pull him down on top of her. She never wanted anything more in her life at this very moment than to have this man inside her.
He kissed her again, this time more fiercely. He licked her nipples one by one and then paused to admire their hardness. He ran his thumb over the top of each one making her twitch involuntarily. He intended, needed, to kiss every square inch of her before the night was out. He needed to show her how much she meant to him. How much she was loved by him. How much he wanted her as a man gripped with a passionate love. No more reserve. No more patience. They kissed with their eyes open so they could see the reactions in each other's eyes. It was a habit they had fallen into since they first met and it would be the same now. She begged him, she needed him now, she couldn't wait any longer. She wanted to know what it would be like to come with a man she loved as much as she loved Jack. She twisted her fingers into his thick hair as they kissed again. He did the same to her, pushing her head back against the pillows. She could feel his hardness against her as they moved. The heat was continuing to grow. The beading sweat. He then began making circles on her body with his long and elegant and gentle fingers. First, at the base of her throat, then around each breast, then onto her stomach. Maddeningly slowly. She was screaming inside. The reaction he intended was telegraphed on her face. Finally he let his long fingers drop below her pubic bone and into her wetness. She must want him very badly now, he could tell, but not yet. He began the circles again, this time much tighter, making her squeal and moan. She just kept repeating his name and it sounded like a spellbinding incantation. She arched up to expose her swollenness to his fingers even more and he knew she was almost there. His other hand never stopped touching her, while laying soft kisses on her burning and flushed flesh. When her head began to fall back as her spine melted, she had to close her eyes and then he entered her. No more talking was needed.
This single thrust changed their relationship forever. They both knew there'd be no turning back, but it all seemed so natural now. No more words were needed. She moved her legs so they were locked behind his back. She grabbed his muscular buttocks so that he was as deep as he could go. Each stroke was more incendiary than the last. She was sure the gods looked down upon them with jealousy believing the ceiling had disappeared revealing a sparkling night sky. She never wanted to leave this bed, this place, this man. She just wanted it to go on and on. Her mind had drifted deep into the nearby water. Could you drown with love? She could barely feel the bed supporting her body believing she was adrift on the top of a soft, lilting wave. He could tell by the expression on her face, the furrows in her brow, the squinting of her closed eyes that she was concentrating hard. He moved faster to catch up with her. She was so slick her walls felt like they were made of silk. It started somewhere deep, wherever Jack was the farthest inside her. It grew in intensity as if she would be cleft in two, it then moved up her center and exploded in her chest. "Jack!" She wondered who was calling his name. It had escaped her lungs as the orgasm had filled them with uncontrollable spasms of delight. The spasms were like eddies. Swirling, rushing, bubbling, gurgling, and finally erupting. So, this is what it was like to make love, real love. She never felt anything like this with any other man before. She was breathing short little breaths to keep the sensation coursing through her body. Jack was the one. She could just have easily lost him, driven him away by not seeing, not feeling what he felt for her. She grabbed the bed tightly hoping not to plummet into an abyss as all strength left her. She had shaken and squirmed like never before. She was sweating and dazed, but forced her eyes open to look up at him. The expression on his face at seeing her seemed unreal and otherworldly. A breeze from the open window marked their nakedness. The room smelled of sex and exotic perfume and lavender.
Now, she was clawing at his back, up and down his spine, biting his lips, kissing him over and over again. Trying to positively devour him. She was moaning, purring, gasping. He closed his eyes and put an outstretched palm on the headboard. Jack was coming. He wanted to prolong the bliss for as long as he could but Phryne was unmerciful. She could feel him come inside her. Such force, nearly Vulcan in heat. He moaned so loudly as she held him it seemed to reverberate like a cry of joy throughout the room and his hand slipped from the headboard onto the pillow next to her head. Giving Jack this much pleasure was the greatest feeling she had ever had! It was like liquid electricity and Jack was helpless. He made a move to leave her, but she held him tight with both arms.
" Wait…kiss me again, Jack. At this moment we're one person. I'll love you for the rest of my days. I promise. We don't need a piece of paper. We belong to each other now".
And then he pulled himself free. "Phryne, my darling, you're a force of nature to be sure. I never thought that, that…" and tears formed in his eyes.
"Jack?"
"I never thought I could love someone as much as I love you. Never."
And with that, he lay down beside her and pulled her close to prolong the intimacy. He buried his head in her hair, then rested his chin on her shoulder. Pushing herself away from him gently, she turned to face him on the pillow. Those eyes! She reached up and stroked that pesky forelock. He had come undone tonight in more ways than one. And she was supremely glad of it. This was the real Jack. Jack the Man.
"Dear, dear Jack. My love."
And a tear rolled down her cheek as he had truly opened the floodgates to her emotions. She traced the outline of his face running her finger across his forehead then down his brow past his eye and then down the rest of his profile. Such silky skin for a man. He held her hand tight.
"No, Jack, I'm memorizing you at this moment in time. Your face, your eyes, your strong shoulders. I couldn't be happier to have you in my life. You're a part of me now. I've given you bits and pieces of myself over the years, but this time I gave you all of me knowing you would never be careless with my gift. You're the only one who truly loves me just as I am."
And she kissed his lips as lightly as a breeze and turned back around. Jack gathered her up in his arms and breathed a loud sigh of contentment. He could smell the sea air. He wrapped what was left of the sheets around them. The anticipation, the champagne, the shared nerves seemed to catch up to them all at once.
As a mischievous smile formed on her lips she said, " I love you, Chief Inspector Robinson" exactly as she had the morning her fever had broken.
"And I love you, Miss Fisher." They could both hear the waves now as the room fell silent and their breathing seemed to return to normal. Finally, together, they drifted off to sleep.
To be continued...