Chapter Ten
Their final days on board passed in a flash, it seemed. They could do no more on the case until the ship docked, so they cheerfully resigned themselves to a short holiday. Phryne was presented with Jack's book of Cocteau, and read it to him as they sat, side by side in the sunshine, sipping icy Negronis. In a mood more calm than she had ever known on the subject, she told him a little more of her time in Paris.
They swam in the pool – Jack discovered that the attraction of seeing Phryne in a swimsuit was worth the penance of having to don his own. Phryne observed Jack's front crawl and shivered delightedly.
They dealt dextrously together with the curiosity of their fellow passengers at dinner; Phryne unveiled a persona of polite non-disclosure in her professional role, while Jack took up the running with some anecdotes on his research studies into human nature. As the humans in question were now firmly behind bars for the foreseeable future (or indeed, already with their Maker), his views were authoritative. If not, precisely, academic.
They both looked forward to the end of the evening, which would find them lying banked up on pillows in the privacy of their stateroom. Phryne's head fitted perfectly into the hollow of his shoulder, their limbs entwined comfortably, and they would talk of anything and nothing. Shoes, Ships, Sealing Wax bearing an elaborately cursive letter B.
London came all too quickly.
"So, Jack, when we dock, we'll need to split up. The gang can't have the opportunity to see us together and make the connection." Phryne re-applied her lipstick in the mirror as she spoke.
Jack stood by her shoulder, using the same mirror to tie his tie. The domestic overtones of the moment appeared not to occur to either of them.
"Okay," he replied. "Once I've found myself some lodgings in Limehouse, how will I find you? And I have to ask – can you take the rest of my clothes with you when you go? My cover isn't going to be able to wear a steamer trunk."
"Oh, Jack!" she smiled into his eyes in the glass. "I thought you wanted to stay undercover for a while?" He tipped his head in query.
"If you go and stay in some respectable lady's boarding house in Limehouse, your whereabouts will be known to every crook and ne'er do well in a five mile radius before the day is out. You had as well take out a full page advertisement in the Times. Women gossip, Jack – even respectable ones. You're talking about a close-knit community where everyone knows everyone else's business." He was crestfallen, and starting to look worried. How many more bad moves might he make simply through not knowing his territory?
"I have a better idea," said Phryne happily. "I'm going to the Savoy. Meet me there. There's an entrance at the back, you can get to it from the Thames side of the building. I'll book dinner in the Grill for eight thirty – in my own name this time, I can leave Beatrice behind. A nice, quiet corner table where we won't be disturbed – or overlooked. We'll have the chance to plan properly. I wish I could take you in the car with me, but we have to leave the boat separately. You go first, via the Second Class route, and I'll see you later. Oh, and Jack?"
He turned back enquiringly.
"You'll need to take your evening dress yourself and change somewhere. The hotel might have a space?" She smiled brightly as he narrowed his eyes at her.