Epilogue
It was the merest scratch on the door, but it had Phryne awake, reaching for another pillow and sitting up gently, so as not to disturb her Sleeping Policeman, who was still recovering from a rather more challenging day than usual. Inadvertently avoiding being shot dead would apparently do unexpected (but not at all unpleasant) things to a man's libido.
The nurse's head appeared first, then she walked softly into the room, carrying her small burden carefully.
"She's just woken, ma'am – not crying, but ready, I think," she whispered.
"Thank you, Mary-Lou" Phryne whispered back, taking the baby and latching her on for a feed in practised fashion. "You go back to bed, I'll bring her through when we've finished."
Smiling her gratitude, the nurse left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. The next few minutes were so calm and quiet that Phryne very nearly dropped back off to sleep; the room was lit only by the street lamps, and her husband's gentle snores the only sound.
Elizabeth Jane, though, once she'd had her fill, snuffled gently, and that was enough for Detective Inspector Jack Robinson to detect a disturbance. Propping himself on his elbows, he regarded wife and daughter blearily.
"I'll take her back to the nursery," he said. Not an offer, more of a statement, and Phryne wasn't sorry to hand over the baby and settle under the sheets again.
Clad only in pyjama trousers, Jack held the child to his shoulder and slipped out of the room and along the landing. Mary-Lou had left a single light burning in the nursery, and by its glow he placed Elizabeth back in her simple crib. She gazed up at him as he did so, eyes bright, and kicked her legs experimentally. He stood for a moment, leaning both hands on the side of the crib, watching her quizzically.
"You're wide awake, young lady, aren't you?" he whispered. "And if you're anything like your mother, I'd give it less than five minutes before you get bored and want company."
Doing it this way allowed him to pretend he was being dutiful. He tiptoed over to the door leading to the night nurse's room, and pulled it closed. Then he returned to the crib, lifted out his daughter and carried her over to the chaise longue, resting her on his knees as he reclined upon it. For a few moments, they simply surveyed one another. He grinned at her.
She studied him carefully, then responded with her first-ever attempt at a gummy, but heart-stoppingly charming grin. Helplessly, he breathed a gentle laugh, and they smiled idiotically at one another for a good few minutes.
He then rested her in the curve of his arm, gave her a conspiratorial wink, and began:
"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, brave and very clever lady, and a lonely policeman whose heart was cold as stone …"
Phryne stretched and blinked; the dawn light was filtering through the window. Instantly aware that she was alone, she debated for a moment, then got up and, donning her robe, went along to the nursery. The door was slightly ajar; what she saw when she pushed it wider made her breath hitch in her throat.
Detective Inspector Robinson lay in his pyjama trousers on the chaise longue, sound asleep. Miss Elizabeth Jane Robinson, clad only in a napkin, lay on her tummy on his chest, also sound asleep. His arm was curved protectively around her small frame.
For long minutes, Phryne was content simply to stand and gaze greedily; then, mindful of the different kind of greed Elizabeth would shortly be exhibiting, she crossed to the nursing chair and curled up, chin on fist, to wait for them to wake.
