Chapter Nine
Dorothy opened her eyes and turned on her back in bed. Smiling to herself as she stretched, she once more blessed her employer; Phryne was clearly sufficiently godlike to be able to provide a godsend such as Evangeline. Two extra hours' sleep each day, while still less than she'd have liked, was transforming her back into a human being with an interest in the outside world.
What had woken her was the sound of Miss Stubbs returning from taking the babies for a walk, so she rose and dressed, going through to the kitchen to greet them. As so often, the motion of the pram had put Gid and Meggie to sleep, so Miss Stubbs had left them by the back door in the fresh air. She was a firm believer in the virtues of Fresh Air, and Dot was so grateful for the help that she wasn't inclined to argue. She put the kettle on to boil, and the two women were soon enjoying a cup of tea and a chat.
"Are you still doing the nursery at St Peter's?" asked Dot. "I mean, now that Father Ryan's not in the rectory any more …?"
"Oh, don't, Mrs Collins, really – I can't bear it," exclaimed Miss Stubbs. "It's just seems so impossible. He was a lovely man, so kind to everyone, even when he wasn't feeling very well."
Dot pricked up her ears at this. "Oh, was he ill?" she asked in sympathetic tones.
"Well, no, not ill precisely – he just used to get bad headaches. I think he was taking aspirin almost every morning."
"The poor man," exclaimed Dot. "What did the doctor say?"
"He wouldn't go," said Miss Stubbs. "He would say, "It's just a headache" and take more tablets.
Dot shook her head sadly and carried their cups to the sink. Miss Stubbs got up.
"Same time tomorrow, then, Mrs Collins?"
"That will be lovely, Miss Stubbs, thank you."
As soon as the door closed behind the young woman, Dot made her way to the phone.
"Mr Butler, hello, it's Dorothy – please can I speak to Miss Fisher? Miss Fisher, hello. Miss Stubbs has just left. It might be nothing, but ..." and she explained the conversation about headaches.
"Interesting, Dot. You think there might have been something more to it than just a surfeit of noisy tots in the rectory?"
"I don't know, Miss, but is it perhaps worth letting Dr Mac know? She might have some thoughts about possible causes."
"Excellent idea. I shall telephone her straight away. Thanks, Dot, I knew getting Evangeline to help you out was a good plan!"
Mac was interested.
"Could be a variety of things, Phryne, though Dot's right – the prevalence of the headaches suggests there definitely was something underlying it. Miss Stubbs didn't mention any other symptoms, I suppose? Balance problems? Speech problems?"
"'Fraid not, Mac, but I suppose she wasn't really looking for them. Let's face it," remarked Phryne, "she's not a highly experienced detective."
Suspecting that there was more to that observation than met the eye, Mac refrained from commenting, simply confirming that she would see what she could find, before ringing off.
