Phryne knew she had to tell Aunt Prudence, it was her first thought when she woke up the following morning. Not that she had finally enticed Inspector Jack Robinson into her bed; she owed him a kiss; but that Janey had been found, safe and well.
She nudged the adorably dishevelled Inspector, snoring softly at her side. He grumbled and turned over, she smirked, seemed he wasn't a morning fan, either, but it had been morning when they had finally fallen asleep. She sighed and decided to go to the bathroom and then ring for coffee and toast, then she would see what the day held. She wondered if Jack had the day off, or did he have to go into the station. Not that she had anything special for him to do ... well nothing to do with cases anyway. She was still thinking very wicked thoughts when Dot appeared bearing a tray and the morning paper.
"Morning, Dot," Phryne grinned, "isn't it a lovely day?"
Dot raised her eyebrows, the curtains were still over the windows so her mistress had no idea it was raining, hard.
"If you're a duck, Miss," she smiled shyly placing the tray on the bed. "Shall I fetch a second cup?"
"Please, I expect Jack will need it," Phryne nodded and poured herself a cup of Mr Butler's wonderfully strong coffee.
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"I didn't know Miss Fisher had an overnight guest, Dorothy," Mr Butler hummed as she collected the cup and saucer.
"It's the Inspector, Mr Butler," she grinned, "and Miss Fisher is in a very good mood this morning."
"I see," he smiled back, "well it had to happen sometime. She finally wore him down."
"Mr Butler!" Dot pretended to be shocked, but she too had wondered when Jack would eventually give in.
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Phryne couldn't keep the skip out of her step or the smile off her face all morning. She told Dot and Mr Butler what had happened and they were equally delighted for her. Mr Butler immediately began making plans for the dinner to be held the following week, Dot asked if she could do anything for the children, knitting perhaps, and Phryne indulged her in that.
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Prudence Stanley lifted the receiver and sat down to listen to Phryne tell her the latest in her detecting. She really wished she would settle down. Phryne started by telling her she was back from Daylesford and would someone save her from stupid women.
"Now Phryne ..." Prudence started to say something about it being the man who was stupid, in this case.
"Huh," Phryne blew out, "well, that's as maybe I have a much better story to tell you. I dare say you saw it in the papers, about the murder at the children's home?"
"Well I may have glanced at it," Prudence sighed, "what of it, I take it the Inspector dealt with it?"
"He did, but there was another case he cleared up, while he was there," Phryne was have trouble being mysterious but blurting out that Janey was alive and well would probably result in the woman having a heart attack, "he noticed a similarity between the matron and someone else he knew."
"Phryne, stop beating around the bush, out with it, child!"
"Are you sitting down?"
"Of course I am, your stories are always too long, dear, for me to remain standing," Prudence huffed.
"It's Janey, Aunt P," Phryne laughed, which Prudence found odd, "Janey is the Matron there, Janey's alive, Aunt P, he found her for me!"
"Phryne!" Prudence shrieked, "no!"
"Yes! It's true, I went to see her yesterday," Phryne started to ramble through her visit to her sister, "please come to dinner with us next week, Janey, Jack and me, oh do come, you must!" She was like a child whose Christmases had all come at once.
"What day?" Prudence choked, "of course I'll come." She checked her diary as Phryne told her the day, and scribbled out the dinner with some hospital board members, this was far more important. She put down the phone and burst into tears.
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Phryne decided she had better inform her, no, their parents that Janey was alive. She hoped they wouldn't drop everything and sail over, not that she didn't want her mother to see her younger daughter, but one of the memories that had resurfaced was their father's treatment of them, when he got drunk. Fear had flashed across Janey's eyes when she thought of the beatings she had endured at his hands and she had only relaxed when Phryne had told her they lived in England now, so if he was on his way they had time to plan how to deal with him. Of course Henry was still unpredictable. She could ring, although it would take forever to get through and the line wouldn't be reliable, so she resolved to write a letter - to her mother. It would take over a month to get there, but a telegram would have them booking a berth on the next ship out, and she didn't want that, she wanted to explain to her mother how Janey felt about her father, that she had the memories of a little girl. Phryne had grown up and seen him for what he was and was able to deal with him when she saw him, which was thankfully, rarely.
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Phryne phoned Janey every day. Jack thought it was as if she still didn't believe it, that Janey was alive. It made him happy, more than happy, to see her like this, free of the one sorrow that had plagued her for years and he stayed more nights than he didn't. They seemed to slip into the relationship she had never aspired to and the one he did. He did wonder how long it would be before she tired of him but for now he was content.
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Phryne sent Cec and Bert to collect Janey for dinner. She had told her sister to expect them and told her they were the salt of the earth and she was perfectly safe with them.
"Phryne, dear," Janey had giggled down the phone, "I don't need protecting, not now."
"Sorry, it's just ..." her sister sighed, "I failed back then."
"Hey, miss," she tutted as if to a small child, "I don't ever want you thinking that, d'you hear?"
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"Definitely Miss Fisher," Bert grumbled as they watched Janey walk to the car, "see that walk?"
"Yeah," Cec got out and opened the door, "right enough. Miss," he nodded.
"Thank you, er ..." now which was which?
"Cec, Miss," he closed the door gently.
"Thank you, Cec."
There was silence for a while then Janey spoke.
"My sister hasn't asked the whole of Melbourne, has she?"
"Nah, she wouldn't do that," Bert looked through the mirror, "jus' the Inspector and Mrs Stanley."
"Oh, good," she sat back, relieved. "My aunt, she's alright?"
"Giddy as a schoolgirl," Bert laughed, "not seen her like this since Arthur passed."
"Phryne told me, so sad, he was such a sweet boy, I remember, partial to gobstoppers and scallop pies."
"That he was, Miss," Cec nodded.
She giggled, "sorry," she composed herself, "it's just that Aunt Prudence giddy as a schoolgirl is not a way I would ever describe her."
"Me neither," Bert agreed, though he was fond of her.
"Here we are, Miss," Cec got out as they pulled up outside Wardlow, "ready?"
"As I'll ever be," she got out and smoothed down her dress, she felt strangely under-dressed.
"You look great," Cec whispered, as if hearing her thoughts.
"Thank you, Cec," she smiled, his little compliment gave her a little more courage. She had little spare money to buy fancy dresses so had taken her favourite one out of the wardrobe. It was one she felt able to dine in with those who donated to the home. Pale blue cotton voile, fitted to the waist and nipped in with a narrow belt. The skirt had inserts around the low hip-line that made it flutter round her calves. The upper bodice was made of lace overlaid with a collar in the blue voile that spread across the arms to form a cape like sleeve. Her fair hair was rolled into a high bun with soft curls at the side, and the pale blue ribbon was tucked into the side of the bun.
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Phryne had dressed modestly, for her, in burgundy silk and black lace. Her under-dress was simply cut with fine straps and the over dress was of embroidered black lace with a soft 'V' neck and was sleeveless. t fell to her knees. The ribbon was tied to her garter. She had been sitting on the window seat, waiting. When the car drew up she flew to the door and skipped down the steps and path to envelope her sister in a warm hug.
"Come in, come in," she took her hand and pulled her up the path, "Aunt P can't wait to see you."
"Slow down, Phryne," Janey laughed, "you always were so impatient, and I see you haven't changed. How does the Inspector cope?"
"He rolls his eyes and sometimes gets cross, but we get by," she shrugged, then stopped and turned, "you do realise how close we are, don't you?" she held Janey's hands and looked into her eyes.
"That your relationship isn't exactly chaste? I do," she nodded, " and it's your life, Phryne. If you're happy, then so am I. He is rather handsome," she winked.
"Janey Fisher, have I got competition?" Phryne muttered.
"I could never compete, darling sister," was the reply.
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Prudence was standing in the parlour wringing her hands and praying this wasn't some elaborate joke, but when the two entered, arm in arm all her fears melted away. Her girls were side by side as they had always been, Janey on Phryne's left, giggling about something.
"Oh, goodness," she hiccupped, "it really is you, Janey. Oh my darling girl," she opened her arms and lifted her face to accept a kiss to the cheek.
"Hello Aunt Prudence," she smiled, "how are you?"
"So much better for seeing you, I really wasn't sure ..."
"After all this time, that's understandable," Janey sat down and accepted a sherry from Mr Butler.
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Dinner was a lively affair. Janey told more of her life with the nuns, Phryne told enough of her life that was seemly and Jack added little stories of Phryne interfering in his cases. Janey asked him how he coped, he just replied that Phryne kept good whisky and was most insightful in her knowledge of the human condition.
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As Prudence left she told the sisters she had telegrammed their parents to give the good news.
"Prudence!" Phryne shrieked, "no! I wrote to mother, they'll be half way here by now."
Janey went pale, but was quieter in her admonishing of her aunt, "I'd rather you hadn't, Aunt Prudence. I knew Phryne had written, but she wrote to mother and explained why I don't want to see father."
"But ... it's such good news," Prudence couldn't understand why it should be kept from them, "and a letter will take a month, at least."
"I will be happy to see mother," Janey sighed, "but I want nothing to do with father, my memories are not good, of our relationship, Phryne understands."
"I'll come over and see you, tomorrow, Aunt P," Phryne sighed, "I'll explain, properly. Anyway you don't like father anymore than I do."
As they watched the older woman leave Phryne squeezed Janey's hand.
"Don't worry," she whispered, "we'll keep him away, and neither will be told where you are, if that's what you want."
"Thank you, Phryne," Janey sighed, "I know it seems harsh, but it's not just my experiences, I've seen it with the children who come to us, terrified of brutal fathers who drink to excess."
"I can ensure there is a guard at the home," Jack suggested, "if that would help, just while they are here."
"I don't want you to go to any trouble, Inspector," she blushed slightly.
"It's no trouble, just trying to keep the citizens of Melbourne safe," he gave a mock salute, "and it's Jack," he reminded her, "please."
"Thank you," she smiled, "well, some of us have to be up in the morning. Thank you for a lovely evening, Phryne, and don't be too hard on Aunt Prudence, she only did what she thought was right. I don't suppose it would occur to her that I don't want to see father."
"Believe me, Janey," Phryne kissed her cheek, "I'm not looking forward to it, either."
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The month between the dinner party and the imminent arrival of Baron and Baroness Fisher passed all too quickly. Phryne had arranged that they stay with her, mainly so she could keep an eye on her father. Jack suggested he go home while they were there but Phryne was having none of it.
"Oh no you don't Jack Robinson," she glowered, "if you like you can have the room across the landing from mine and come over when they have retired for the night, but no way are you leaving me with father."
"I just didn't want to be in the way," he stroked her cheek, "but if you want me to stay, I will."
"Thank you, Jack," she relaxed, "it's just if I have to justify Janey not wanting to see him I might need back-up."
"Is he likely to get violent, now you are a grown woman," he questioned her need, "only fathers who beat their children usually stop when they become big enough to fight back?"
"Drunk and difficult, more than violent," she sat down on the piano stool, "loud."
"I see," he sat next to her, "well, we shall keep him away from Janey, that's the most important isn't it?"
"Yes, thank you Jack, for the offer of protection," she put her head on his shoulder, "play for me, please."
He thought for a moment then:
"Like the beat, beat, beat of the tom tom," he began,
"When the jungle shadows fall,"
"Like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock,
as it stands against the wall," she continued.
"Like the drip, drip, drip of the raindrops," Jack took over,
"When the summer shower is through
So a voice within me keeps repeating"
She joined him on the next line, "you, you, you."
When they had finished she wriggled closer and sighed softly.
"Thank you."
"My pleasure," he shifted a little, not enough to have her move her head, "come on, bed."
"Inspector," she teased, "you devil."
"Hm," he pulled her up, "well, I have been trained by the best."
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Phryne had to greet her parents on her own, Jack was busy in court. She asked the red raggers to take charge of their luggage but she drove them back to Wardlow in the Hispano. She drove at her usual speed, which earned her a reprimand from her father.
"Feel free to get out and walk, father," she replied through gritted teeth.
"Henry, that's enough," her mother drew her brows in, "she was kind enough to come and get us herself."
"Will Janey be at dinner, dear?" Margaret asked.
"No, she is busy," Phryne pulled up outside the house, "we will make arrangements in the coming days."
"But you see her, often?"
"About once a week, depending on how busy she is or I am, but we keep in touch by phone," Phryne smiled, "dinner is rare," and it was. They had decided they wouldn't live in each other's pockets but were as close as they were when they were children. Either one would ring the other for a quick chat in the evenings, if Janey had to come into the city she would make sure she popped over to Wardlow for tea, occasionally lunch and if Phryne was anywhere near the children's home she would call in to say hello, usually armed with a basket of Dot's biscuits or a bundle of knitting. The children were always cheered by the sight of Miss Fisher's car.
Phryne's life was settled, still interesting with her still working as a Lady Detective, but she was happier than she had been in many a year, and her father was not going to spoil it.
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She left her parents to freshen up after their journey and went to sit in the parlour.
"Tea, Miss?" Mr Butler poked his impassive face round the door.
"Soon, Mr B," she sighed, "but, would you mind, only I've already had a few words with father ..."
"A small whisky it is then," he retreated and was back so quickly Phryne was sure it was already poured and on the tray in the hall.
"Thank you, you are pure gold, Mr B," she raised her glass and downed the drink in one.
"Miss," he nodded in that way he had, his all seeing, all knowing way, and retreated with the evidence.
She giggled quietly.
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Margaret was first down the stairs, full of praise for her daughters hospitality, the room was lovely, she smiled, "not even your father can find fault with it."
"Well, that's a first," Phryne patted the couch next to her, "sit down mother, tell me how things are."
"Well, he spends an awful lot of time at his club," she mused, "he still drinks far too much and still has outlandish ideas for money making schemes."
"Mother, about Janey," Phryne wanted to get this over with before her father made an entrance, "she ..."
"... wants nothing to do with him, I suppose," Margaret pursed her lips.
"Mother, her memories of him are coloured, of being beaten when he was drunk, locked in the cupboard," Phryne sighed, "and if the nuns could find no record of her reported as a missing person ..." she let the sentence hang in the air.
"He swears he did report her missing," Margaret muttered.
"He wouldn't remember, it's been years, and he had probably called into a drinking establishment on the way. If he smelled of drink who would take him seriously."
"Oh, Phryne, all those missed years."
Phryne privately thought Janey had been the lucky one, she had not grown up in the lap of luxury but in a place of peace and calm, where she was loved, to a point, certainly made to feel she had worth.
"So," Margaret decided to change the subject, "whose is the room opposite yours, surely not your maid's."
"Dot lives in a room upstairs, no, that's Jack's room," Phryne smiled naughtily, "well when I don't want him in mine."
"Phryne!"
"Oh come on mother, you know about Jack, and you know I'm not sweet and innocent," Phryne laughed.
"To a point I know about him, that he is a police officer, and you both work cases together, but ..."
"Yes mother we live in sin," Phryne heard footsteps outside, "now, I think that is father's tread, so ..."
"We shall talk about this later."
Phryne rolled her eyes and prepared herself for the evening. 'Please, Jack,' she thought, 'be on time, or early.'
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Jack looked at his watch and decided he didn't have time to go to the office, straight home if he didn't want to be consigned to the little room opposite hers. He had to be back at the courthouse the following morning to hear the verdict but that wasn't until ten o'clock, he could either go to the office and deal with any paperwork, or have a lie in, he'd leave that to Phryne. A rash decision but she wasn't looking forward to her parents' visit.
He spied Cec and Bert's taxi, lurking round a corner, ha! sent, he thought. Well it was better than the tram or finding a Melbourne taxi. He waved, Bert waved back and they pulled up, "Taxi, sir?"
"221B, The Esplanade, please," he got in like any usual fare, "have her parents arrived?"
"Yer," Bert muttered, "on time, 'bout. Brought enough stuff for a year."
Jack rolled his eyes and fervently hoped he was exaggerating.
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Phryne had never been so grateful to hear his key in the door, and Mr Butler mutter his greeting.
"That you, Jack?" she called, hoping he would at the very least poke his head round the door.
In the hall he inhaled and straightened his shoulders, "who'd you expect?" he grinned, entering the room.
She leapt up and went to kiss him, firmly on the lips.
"God, am I glad to see you," she murmured into his ear.
"I'll just go and change," he kissed her gently, "won't be long."
Margaret watched this exchange, silently musing he was the best looking Detective Inspector she had ever seen, and that this was an almost domestic interlude.
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Dinner was tense, was how Jack would describe it, Phryne could barely look her father in the face every time he mentioned meeting up with Janey.
"If I'd known when you were coming," she snapped, finally, "I could have made arrangements, but she is so wrapped up in her work finding time in her schedule will be difficult."
Margaret could see this was upsetting her, "now Henry," she reached over and touched his hand, "both Phryne and Janey are busy people, we shall just have to be patient." She turned to Phryne, "there are plenty of old acquaintances we can see, dear, don't worry."
"Thank you, mother," she heaved a sigh of relief, "I did write to you, to let you know, I thought a telegram was not the type of communication for this."
"Well, Prudence sent a telegram, as you know," Margaret smiled sympathetically, "so we booked the first passage out."
"Mm," Phryne hummed.
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"That was awful," Phryne fell onto the bed, "how on earth am I going to keep him away from Janey?"
"You may just have to be blunt," he leant over her, "but it isn't going to be easy, now, I've had a hard day in court and you are strung out, how about ..."
"Oh please," she grinned and opened her arms to him.
True it wasn't the best way to resolve issues, but it did reduce the tension in a rather wonderful way. She could think about the problem tomorrow, for now ...
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"You know," she sighed, satisfied, pink and completely relaxed, " I told mother we live in sin, today."
"Really, " he raised an eyebrow, "and I thought we lived in Melbourne."
She batted his shoulder, lazily and curled into his chest, "love you," she murmured.
"Love you too," he kissed her forehead.
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Jack didn't like that Henry was huffy about not being able to see his younger daughter. He asked too many questions of himself and he heard of him inquiring others about charitable institutions and their managers, or leaders. He rang Phryne from the station after one particularly worrying call.
She was there far too soon he thought, but given the circumstances...
"I think he's worked out where she is," he indicated she sit, "but I have sent Hugh up there, with instructions to keep any but doctors away."
"Jack ...if she sees him ..."
"Quite, today I give you permission to exceed the speed limit," he stood up and grabbed his hat and coat. "Come on!"
"Right," she shook her head, and told herself to get a grip.
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They were there in no time, it seemed to Jack, but he wasn't looking at the speedometer, he just held on to his hat. He wasn't going to let her lose what she had so longed for, not because of him. He had quickly got the measure of her father over the days they had entertained them. Margaret he liked, she seemed to understand both her daughters, Henry was rapidly driving him up the wall, so what he was doing to Phryne he could only guess at.
"Any sign, Collins?" Jack fairly leapt out of the Hispano.
"Not yet, sir," Hugh sighed with relief, "Matron is in her office, she is ... er ..."
".. like her sister?" Jack offered his hand to Phryne, not that she needed it, but ... propriety ...
Hugh cleared his throat in acknowledgement.
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Janey was pacing when Phryne flew in through the door and wrapped her arms around her.
"He won't touch you," she gasped, "never."
"Phryne," Janey turned and fell into her arms, "it's just that my memories can't be erased. He was a terrible father ..."
"Still is," Phryne huffed. "I'm so sorry, Janey, he shouldn't have found you."
"He didn't make this much effort when whatisname abducted me," Janey snapped, "why now?"
"If I knew that I think I'd have the answer to all the world's ills," She replied, "now, no need to hide, if he gets here then let him have it. I won't leave until I know you are safe."
"Phryne ..."
"I'm here, so is Jack, you are safe."
Something about Phryne's stance and tone of voice told he she would be safe.
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Henry roared up in a taxi, strode up the path and demanded to see Janey Fisher.
"We have no one of that name here, sir," one of the nurses smiled, "perhaps you have been given the wrong information. None of the children have the name 'Janey'."
It was true that none of the children had been given that name, but also the nurses only knew Matron as Matron Fisher, or Miss Fisher; her private life was just that - private.
"I'm not after a child," he blustered.
"Well," Nurse Donovan smiled, "that's all we have here, sir, perhaps you have come to the wrong place."
"No!" he snarled, "I know she is here," he pushed passed the young woman and stamped up to the door.
"That's as far as you go, sir," Hugh put his hand out, "nothing for you here." It was a remarkable thing for Hugh, normally almost timid, but Jack had told him to stand firm, whatever. "Matron does not want to see you."
Henry was drunk, the one thing Janey feared, so drunk that a constable of the Victorian police force would be hard pressed to stop, he was strengthened by the brandy he had consumed.
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Up until now Janey had clung to Phryne but now, hearing the shouting, the snarling of the man who dared to call himself 'father' she rose. Angry, determined and decided. Janey would send him away.
"Get off this land!" she shouted, "you are not welcome here!"
"Janey," he held his hands out.
"I am Matron Fisher, and you are not welcome here!"
He continued towards her until he was close enough to touch her.
"Get out," she hissed, "you did nothing to find me, and you know what, I'm glad. I was loved, cared for and given a chance. Not what would have happened if I had stayed as your daughter."
"Phryne ..." he looked around for his elder daughter.
"... is strong and brave and I am proud she shook you off, proud she found me through her own tenacity, because, father," she stressed this last word, "you got drunk and forgot to report me missing. Well, guess what, I am still gone, from you."
Phryne stood aside and let her sister get everything off her chest, god, she was proud of her, a strength she never thought she would see or hear. She resisted the temptation to applaud but stepped forward to stand with her.
"I think you'd better leave, father," she murmured, "Janey has things to attend to."
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Margaret joined Phryne and Janey for tea, but the conversation was stilted. After Henry's visit there was never going to be peace. Though Janey had had a childhood that was far better than the one that she could have had, the knowledge that her father had done little to find her drove a wedge between her and her parents.
Janey tried to take the salvation the church offered her but in the end it was Phryne, the Protestant half of the duo that told her to let go.
"They did, all those years ago, Janey," she hugged her sister, "it was always just us."
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It was always just them, with Jack in the middle, to the end.
When they buried Janey, forty years later, Phryne made him promise she would lie next to her.
He kept his promise when she went, and, eventually the three of them lay together - for eternity; because he was never going to leave Phryne and she would never leave Janey - ever.