Clayton / Bailey: 6 | 4 | 4
Jones / Jones : 4 | 6 | 4
After updating the scoreboard, the young boy in charge of it always clapped his hands together to take the chalk dust off them.
Against their own expectations, Archie and Fern had won the second set and tied the match, leaving everything open for the final round. It had been closely fought so far. Clara might have a powerful service and Samuel skills to successfully go for a professional career in tennis if golf didn't pan out, but Phryne was quick on her feet and Jack's tenacity made up for his lack of talent.
The weather was very pleasant for playing outside - warm enough and with a blue, cloudless, sunny sky above- and, as expected, everyone looked as if they had sprung out from the society pages. Clara and Phryne wore white dresses with short sleeves and pleated skirts that went a bit below their knees; Miss Fisher was sheltered from the sun by a white turban and Clara had a band around her head like Suzanne Langlen. The men were dressed in white as well: both had long trousers and flat caps but while Jack was wearing a white shirt and a jumper with blue lines around the neckline and the hem, Samuel had one of those recent 'polo' shirts on.
Getting to know each other better had been the main reason for Clara's invitation, at least in her own words, but apart from a brief chat between sets while they drank sips of lemonade and greetings in the breakfast room (for which they were all impeccably dressed in day clothes as if they weren't to change them in twenty minutes time) they hadn't had the chance to delve much into conversation.
It was Phryne's time to serve now. While she readied herself by making the ball bounce against the floor, Clara looked at her watch, a rather impatient look on her face, something she had done some more times already.
With a fluid motion, Phryne threw the ball in the air and hit it at its peak, sending it across the court. Samuel responded with a fast backhand shot that Phryne, now close to the net, turned into a volley in Clara's direction.
Jack did his best to focus on the game and even if usually they were more or less side by side, it was hard not to feel drawn by how elegantly Phryne moved, displaying the same grace playing tennis that had permeated her dancing the night before.
«Archie! », Phryne yelled, breaking the spell.
Not sure exactly how, Jack still managed to clumsily get to the ball in the last moment and force Clara to almost touch the net trying to hit it, his racket falling on the floor afterwards.
«What happened? », Phryne said in the midst of a very potent forehand shot, earning her team a "40" after Clara failed to reach it.
«I lost my bearings for a second, I'm afraid», he replied, picking the racket up.
The chance that Clara and Samuel might have noticed his reaction dawned on him suddenly and he feared the realisation had made him blush. Phryne and Jack's false identities as a couple provided a plausible cover and, despite the obvious advantages a match like theirs could bring, love appeared to be the chief reason why Clara and Samuel were together so Jack believed they would understand it, but hearing them point that out would be too much. Not that he believed that they would actually, considering their impeccable manners but still.
«As long as it doesn't happen again», Phryne said jokingly, but in good faith.
«There's no problem for us if it does», Clara quipped from the other side of the net, but no one mentioned the dreaded topic.
Jack feigned a smile and set himself to focus on the task at hand. As time had gone on, the friendliness character of the game seemed to have vanished and the players were more intense, gripping their rackets tighter and putting more strength and thought into each shot. He could only try to pick up the pace, but Phryne's competitive streak was fully alert and she was unstoppable now.
It was obvious that Clara and Samuel had been playing together for a long time and barely had to talk, even when the ball fell in a spot that could be easily considered within each other's reach without a failed hit, a crash or both rackets touching the ball and awarding a point to their competitors.
Jack used a drop shot he thought rather professional, something he considered even more so when Samuel failed to get to it on time and the play earned them the game, putting them one away from winning the match.
«Well done! », said Phryne with a bright grin on her face, holding half his wrist, half his hand. Her smile became more reserved, which wasn't usual in her. She had meant to touch his forearm – an unwise decision on itself, she thought afterwards even if she didn't care much for them, given that between the first and the second set, Jack had taken off the jumper and rolled up the shirtsleeves and she would be meeting his bare skin – but he had moved suddenly. Jack hadn't done so on purpose and feared she might think that. He folded his fingers and touched two of hers, not only due to some sort of compensation for his motion but because he truly wanted to. Her hand on his had sent a pleasant flash of heat across him he didn't mind it at all. It wasn't the first time they touched like this, but a new kind of energy seemed to seep through it, a remainder of what they had felt during their dances the night before. Was he turning into an Austen heroine, reeling from the latest ball?, he thought. Not that there was anything wrong with it; he had always found that there was plenty to be commended about those ladies and, truth be told, their relationship was getting more and more like something out of a novel.
Phryne herself was trying to make sense of his action, despite the fact that she couldn't say she was exactly surprised. Perhaps what had struck her, she pondered, was the chance with which it had happened. The other times their hands had touched hadn't been planned ahead, but they had stemmed from moments of comfort, alarm or politeness, rarely simply because they felt like it in the spur of the most ordinary instant.
«One more game and we win », she said, her hand sadly no longer on Jack's, but still stinging with its remembrance.
«And just to think you mentioned your tennis skills weren't quite up to par! », said Samuel. «I know I'm the one working on becoming a professional player, but I'm not sure I still want to invite you to play golf. »
«Does it mean you are giving up the match? », asked Jack, reverting to Archibald Jones. He wasn't sure for how long they could be able to push their feelings aside, but considering how confusing and complex they were, he couldn't deny finding some relief in having the possibility to do so in that particular moment.
«Never! », said Clara.
Clayton / Bailey: 6 | 4 | 4
Jones / Jones : 4 | 6 | 5
xxx
Phryne deftly sent the ball to the other side of the court in a spin that made it practically impossible to catch.
Samuel jumped back nevertheless, spraining his ankle when he put his left foot down inverted. He hopped on the heathy one for a couple of seconds, but when he tried to stand on both, his visible effort to not swear made it clear that it hurt too much for that. The other players ran to him, the fact that the match was over left unnoticed.
«It's perhaps best we get you seated», Clara said, putting one of her fiancé's arms over her shoulders for him to hold on to her.
«Yes. I'd like that very much», replied Samuel, but it wasn't that easy. Given their height difference, he was leaning too much to the side she was on.
«Allow me to help», offered Jack, taking Bailey's other arm.
Supported like this, he made his way to a chair and gladly took the glass of lemonade Phryne handed to him.
« Let's see that ankle», she said, pulling one of the empty chairs and signaling him to put his leg on it. « I worked in field hospitals in the war and picked up some things. Would you mind I took off your shoe? »
He finished that sip of lemonade.
« I don't, thank you. »
Phryne carefully rolled up the leg of the trousers up to his knee and relieved him of the sock and the shoe, making Samuel flinch a little when she did so.
«Does it hurt too much? », Clara asking, taking one of his hands in hers.
«A little», he replied.
«Well, it's starting to look a bit swollen to begin with», Phryne said, pointing to the lateral side of his foot. «I don't think it happened, but I'm going to check if it's only sprained or you broke something and it may hurt. »
First, she held his foot with her left hand and with her thumb and index finger pressured on each side of the talus, proceeding to touch the space below afterwards.
«Could you please move your ankle through its full range? Do it slowly, we don't want any further damage. »
Samuel carefully did as told.
«Did it hurt when you did that? », Phryne asked.
«It stung a bit. »
«Now I'm going to make your foot move. Relax it and relax the ankle. »
As Phryne worked, Jack stood aside, watching her. He had seen her carry through many tasks and knew that she was accomplished in many fields, but it was difficult not to be impressed with her efficiency and resourcefulness. In that moment, he didn't even realise immediately that being in a hospital in the front wasn't part of Fern's biography and people might ask questions about it.
«For the moment, I think applying ice for 15 minutes 4 times a day and rest will be enough. Wrapping your ankle might not be a very bad idea either. » Phryne turned to the young man in charge of getting the stray balls and update the scoreboard: «They probably have a first aid kit at reception. Bring me some bandages, long enough to put around Mr. Bailey's ankle. Thank you. »
«I almost feel I should apologise», continued Phryne.
« What for? You won the match fairly. This was an accident. Just that. And that was a really good spin», said Samuel. « I'll be as good as new for tonight, or at least close. Perhaps even before», he said, smiling. «So, I know they are going to display the items for auction just this afternoon, but do you have anything under your eye already?», Samuel asked, to make time as they waited. «There are always rumours – apparently Dr. Jackson brought a vintage coffee mill that's generating some interest. »
Phryne and Jack doubted it was that worthy of speculation but obliged him.
«Well, we are fairly new so this so we aren't exactly in the way of news, but given his occupation, I'm looking forward to Dr. Taylor's contribution. », Phryne said, suddenly glad Yates had picked the Baccarat paperweight. She wasn't expecting that the donours' identity would be known. Normally she didn't care about what people thought of her, but she wasn't that sure it would be very favourable for Archibald and Fern's image if they showed up with something ordinary.
The man came back at last, a tray with a roll of bandage on his hands, and that topic of conversation dried down.
«I'll need you to put your foot on the floor now for the ankle to be aligned, please.»
Jack pulled the chair away after Samuel had lowered his foot to leave more space for Phryne, who had crouched in front of him. She expertly put the bandage around his ankle and his foot until she had run out of fabric and fastened the loose end with a small metallic clamp.
«You're set. »
«Let's see», Samuel said, getting ready to rise from the chair.
«Lean on me, darling, if you want», Clara offered.
He held on and got up, first on his unscathed foot and then slowing sharing his weight with the other.
«Does it hurt more than before? », Phryne asked, getting on her feet too.
«It still aches, but less so now.»
«Are you fit to walk? », inquired Clara.
«Yes, let me just get my shoe back on and arrange my trousers. »
«Vain man», Clara smiled at him and kissed his cheek, getting on the tip of her toes.
«We are very relieved to know you are feeling better, Mr. Bailey», Jack said. It was true, but it was also true that he found himself wishing he could be as overt about his feelings for Phryne as they had just been, their previous interaction notwitstanding.
«Thank you for your concern and your invaluable help, Mr. and Mrs. Jones », Samuel said, raising his eyes, but still tying his shoe, after putting his sock back on and unwrapping his trouser leg. «Well, I'm ready when you're ready. »
Meanwhile, Clara had finished her sip of lemonade and taken a little silver case from her handbag, hung off the back of the chair, and rubbed some perfume on her wrists and the back of her neck. Once she was finished, she put the perfume back and held the handbag in her fingers.
«Vain lady», said Samuel with a smile.
«Let's get you inside. It's getting hot to stay here », Clara said tenderly, putting his arm around her shoulders again.
«Will you need help? », asked Jack.
«That would be very kind, but I think I'll manage now. There will be no dancing tonight, I'm afraid, but I can limp my way to the clubhouse. »
«I guess we too should change and come down to lunch afterwards», suggested Jack, taking a quick glance at his watch when they were back in the lobby of the Elvsworth.
«I can't wait for a warm bath», Phryne said, almost clapping with glee.
«Go ahead then. I'll check if it's possible to book a table in the terrace», he said, trying to shake away the image her words had conjured in his mind.
xxx
It had been indeed possible to get such a table and, tucked in a corner of the porch overlooking the golf course, Phryne and Jack were outside enjoying a very pleasant luncheon of light salad, 'Spring Chicken Princess Hélène', and wine from Maiden Creek. Clad in a buttercup silk velvet jacket and light silk voile tunic and skirt while he was wearing a hat, a light grey three-piece suit with a white shirt and a silk burgundy repp tie with dark gold ribbon stripes, they looked the utmost picture of sophistication.
«I wonder what our friends are doing. No one is around», remarked Phryne, with a sheeping expression on her face while they were waiting for dessert.
«Maybe they are resting before all the emotion tonight may bring», replied Jack. «The auction seems to be quite an affair around here. Rumours, high stakes, a year of preparations – it is bound to tire anyone out even before the event itself takes place», he continued, lowering his voice.
Phryne let out a small laugh.
«I think I'll do the same after lunch, to be honest. I slept very poorly and the tennis match knocked the few energy I had out of me, I'm afraid», she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face to under her white fine straw cloche.
«I hope it wasn't my presence in the room the cause of disturbance». He wasn't meaning to be falsely humble, neither to coax compliments out of her, but genuinely concerned instead. People could be quite particular about their sleeping arrangements.
«No, not at all. You're a very quiet sleeper», she said in a reassuring tone. « I just couldn't stop thinking about certain things», her voice less soft now.
«I'm sorry to hear that. Nights like those aren't easy». Jack wished he could say something better, something that could do justice to how much he sympathized with that feeling, that could properly convey the many nights he had been the one unable to shut his eyes and fall into slumber.
«Was it the case that kept you up? », he ended up asking.
«In part», Phryne replied, looking squarely at him.
Jack took a sip of his wine. He might have slept last night, but had already had his share of blank ones over her, over them.
«I wish things were simpler. I truly do», he conceded eventually.
«I am always up to a challenge, you know that», she said rather seriously.
«It's not the most immediate challenges that worry me.» (How hardly he had had to fight saying «Phryne».)
Jack lowered his eyes for a second, bringing his gaze back to her afterwards.
«You concern yourself too much with the future» (How hardly she had had to fight saying «Jack».) «I have a scarred heart too, you know».
«I do, but I can't help it. For now, at least. »
Phryne put her hand next to his, Fern's rings gleaming in the sun.
«I'm sorry. For this morning, I mean. »
«Don't be», Phryne said earnestly, her hand moving from the tabletop onto his.
«It's not fair when I am the one who thinks everything is complicated enough already and yet go on and do something like that. »
He didn't touch her fingers or reached for her hand, but he didn't take his away.
«Do you regret it? », Phryne was nearly sure of his answer, but felt compelled to ask nevertheless, even if there was still some chance of his reply hurting her.
Jack kept quiet for some instants and sighed. He vehemently wished they were having that conversation somewhere else than the terrace of the Elvsworth. It was almost comical.
«I am not, but it doesn't make it a less imprudent thing to do», he paused. « I'm tremendously sorry for disappointing you», Jack had struggled with what word to use and still wasn't very convinced with the one he had ended up choosing.
«I think it's best if I do indeed go take that nap», Phryne said, taking her hand off his and putting the napkin on the table, keeping her posture the best she could.
Jack meant to apologise again, but didn't see how it could be of any help or use in that moment. He kept quiet instead, chastising himself in silence while he watched Phryne walk away.
A/n: I hope you enjoy this chapter. Given the time that it took for me to post it, such a small(ish) installment may seem a bit disappointing but this was one of those instances where the story basically wrote itself. I had meant finish the it farther ahead in the plan I have but was rather pleased with how things turned out and thought it would make for a good chapter ending.
I'd like to thank two people (not including any reference because I'm not sure if they would mind it or not) for their assistance regarding tennis details. Any mistakes derived from interpreting their advice are on me though.
Phryne's assessment of Samuel's ankle was aided by youtube tutorials and articles I found online, so I kindly ask you to not be too bothered if there are some mistakes, despite my intense research.
'Spring Chicken Princess Hélène' is based upon a recipe by the often referenced Escoffier, published in 'A Guide To Modern Cookery'.
Phryne's outfit when she's having luncheon with Jack is based on one she is wearing in promo shots and that will appear on the 7th episode of the new season, according to the exhibition catalogue for the Costume Exhibition to be held at Rippon Lea Estate from May 1st, 2015. I was looking for a look that fit the mood and details I envisioned for this situation and when I came across it my search came to halt -it was perfect. I just swapped the trousers for a skirt because The Elvsworth is supposed to be rather conservative and couldn't shake the Fleuri's disapproval of Phryne's taste for them from my mind.
I hope you are looking forward to reading what comes next.
As usual, thank you for your support. It means a great deal to me.
Feel free to leave a comment/review if you want. I always love to read from you and get to know what you think of the story and what details you liked best.