A Distraction
Thank you to the wonderful Kerry Greenwood for her marvellous creations and for inspiring the ABC's establishment of Jack and Phryne as a romantic couple.
This chapter is my first attempt at a bit of mystery writing but I'll try to slip in a little Phryne/Jack moment just to make us love junkies happy.
Don't forget to let me know what you think.
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The Hon. Phryne Fisher stood to greet Mrs Albury Richards as she was ushered into the parlour by Mr Butler. A tall woman with striking titian hair, impeccably turned out in a grey suit (one of Madame Fleuri's creations if she wasn't mistaken) which was doing an admirable job camouflaging a slight thickening around her middle.
"Mrs Richards," shaking hands "Phryne Fisher, please take a seat. May I offer you some coffee."
"Yes. Thank you Miss Fisher."
As Mr Butler left the room, the two women assessed each other.
"Forgive me, Mrs Richards, I don't believe that we've ever met, but you do look extremely familiar to me."
"Actually, we have met, many years ago in Oxford. I was only 11 at the time though. Justine Fletchley was my eldest sister."
Phryne remembered her old friend with a pang. Justine had been another ambulance driver. Fresh from the fields of France, she had joined the Sappho set in Paris after the war. Tall and auburn, like her younger sister, but thicker set, Justine had never concealed the strong admiration she had of Phryne's lithe younger self. Though always respectful of Phryne's inability to return her interest, Justine had been as furious as a vengeful lover when she'd seen the evidence of violence left on Phryne's face by René Dubois. Her anger and ongoing wish permanently emasculate that 'sac à puces' had done much to soothe Phryne's wounded soul. When shortly before her return to England, Justine's death in a traffic accident had distressed Phryne terribly and she had taken it upon herself to visit Justine's family in Oxford and return some personal mementos.
"Of course, I remember you now. Justine's little sister, she was a wonderful friend to me at a difficult time in my life. I have never forgotten her. But how can I help you? Is this about Justine?"
Mrs Richards indicated that she was there on another matter but that she would be grateful to hear more about her sister as she'd been very young when Justine had left home. After promising to share some (much censored) stories at another time and inviting each other to use their maiden names, the women settled down to discuss the case at hand.
"I need your help Phryne, but I'm not sure what exactly can be done. It's like this..."
Albury proceeded to explain that her husband Andrew had been born and raised in Melbourne and that after their wedding tour they had elected to settle in Australia.
"He has a large set of long time friends, all married and all living in St Kilda, so we bought a house here too." Albury paused looking a little distressed. "I've always made friends easily but I was a little nervous about starting somewhere completely new so I was glad that I was moving into a readymade set. And they're a jolly bunch they really are, just my sort of people, but for some reason I can't work out, the wives have all taken against me."
Albury paused in the telling of her tale to allow Mr Butler to serve the coffee and to be introduced to Dot who had entered the room, pencil and notebook in hand.
Having quickly filled Dot in on the basics for the notes, Phryne urged Albury to continue.
"It's been awful really, simply awful. In the two months since we established ourselves, not one of them has gone out of their way to speak to me. Oh they obey all the social forms but apart from that it's as if I've been sent to Coventry.
Of course Andrew can't see it, men never can you know. He thinks I'm just letting my imagination run away with me. But I'm not!
I've had three nasty little notes. I received the first one about three weeks ago. This one arrived with the mail yesterday morning. I threw the others in the fire, that's what they say you should do with anonymous letters isn't it, but they basically said the same thing."
Albury handed over a buff coloured envelope addressed in print and post marked St Kilda.
Phryne examined it, removed the sheet of note paper and handed the envelope to Dot for her opinion.
"Good quality stationary from Coles Miss. Nothing special about it."
Phryne unfolded the sheet of paper and read.
'Why can't you get the message that you're NOT WANTED!'
"Hmm, spiteful but not actually threatening. Nothing distinct about the printing, just an ordinary hand with at least a good basic education."
"And that's not the end of it. Twice somebody has called and cancelled my appointment with Madam Fleuri. Then the lining of my coat was slashed when we were dining with the Simpson's and the heads of my Dahlia's were all cut off just as they were beginning to bloom. What's worse, I think my mail has been interfered with. A number of invitations have gone strangely astray, been late or have contained embarrassing errors. Last week, we were invited to dine with the Phillip's and the time had been carefully changed on the invitation. We were an hour late to sit down. Naturally, Julia Phillips called it an unfortunate mistake and was very apologetic but I got the idea that she somehow thought I'd done it myself."
"I'm sure it's all connected, I feel as there must be someone behind it all. I just can't understand what I've done to make them dislike me so. You wouldn't believe how lonely it is to be so disliked by a room full of people. It's not as if I have any choice about being part of their set.
It's become unbearable. And now...and now," Albury paused for a moment, dabbing at the tears that were slowly pooling, "well, I'm expecting you see and there's no one to be happy for me or to talk to about those little things... Forgive me please." With that, the young woman gave in to a flood of tears.
Phryne felt it best to let her cry it out a little. Unless she missed her guess, Albury was generally quite a sensible woman and little used to hysteria. She moved to sit beside Albury on the settee, holding her free hand and patting it gently as she waited for the emotions to ease. Ever tactful Dot quietly left the room.
Once Albury had settled herself down, mopped up her tears and finished a cup of tea, Phryne picked up where they'd left off.
"Firstly Albury, let me say congratulations. I am very happy for you. I know that Justine would have been delighted to have a niece or nephew. I remember that she was very fond of children.
Now, I can see you're not the sort of person given to flights of fantasy so I am sure that the problems you are having are quite real. Women can be such cats en mass I know, but your situation seems so targeted that I suspect you're quite right in thinking something has stirred them up.
Now, I need to get a little more specific detail."
Picking up Dot's discarded notebook (wondering where her companion had disappeared to), Phryne recorded the names and addresses of all parties and a basic outline of routine, habits and interests.
"By the way Albury, were the women hostile from the moment you met them or did the problems start later?"
"Definitely right from the start Phryne. They seemed to have a pre-conceived idea about me. I did wonder if I might have a connection with any of them but the only one is Meredith Simpson. I was at finishing school with her sister Muriel but we always got on very well together. In fact she was the one who introduced me to Andrew."
Phryne had just finished naming her terms when Dot entered the room carrying a gaily wrapped parcel.
"Please, Mrs Richards, I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to give this to you for the nursery and to say congratulations." Shyly, Dot handed the parcel to the delighted Albury who eagerly unwrapped it.
Later, as they watched Albury Richards step into a taxi, Phryne turned to Dot and embraced her, kissing her on both cheeks. She had recognised Dot's gift as a blanket from her Hope Chest, lovingly made in expectation of the precious hope Dot had for the future. "You dear girl, you dear sweet girl."
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After another of Mr Butler's excellent luncheons, Phryne elected to settle down for an afternoon nap in the atrium. She would need the extra energy tonight after all.
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Opening her eyes, Phryne's first sight was another spray of orchids, this time lusciously white. Not in a vase this time put wrapped in paper and held in a strong masculine hand.
"Jack." She blinked up at him, appreciating they way his skin was shining in the warm sunlight.
"Jack." She whispered as he delicately pluck one bloom from them spray and brushed across the rosily flushing red cheek.
"Jack." As he parted the front of her robe to her belly, leaving her breasts covered, draped in satin.
"Jack" As the flower stroked its' way down the bared flesh, raising licks of fire across her skin.
Gently, he bent his head and mouthed one firmly erect nipple, through her robe, bighting the turgid nub between his lip covered teeth.
"Jack!" As electricity jolted through her and moisture flooded between her thighs.
Note:
sac à puces – Fleabag
Sent to Coventry - British idiom meaning to ostracise someone or act as if they are not present.
