Rosie crumpled up the paper, growling at the picture of the Robinsons at the christening of their daughter. She still couldn't reconcile herself to the fact that it was probably her that couldn't have children, and she determined to make Phryne Robinson's life hell. But how? Any physical action would see her arrested and charged with assault. She had lived with the police all her life and was aware that psychological terror could be visited on her prey.

She listed the possibilities in her head:

Silent phone calls,

Letters formed from cut out newspaper,

Nasty things left on the doorstep,

Something in the milk to make it taste bad;

but nothing that would cause actual bodily harm.

And so it began.

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Phryne was sitting on the rug in the parlour with Polly lying on her front and trying her hardest to lift her head. Phryne kept telling her what a clever girl she was and Polly replied by blowing bubbles and giving her a toothless grin. She heard the phone ring but, knowing Mr Butler was about, ignored it.

'Robinson residence.' She heard from the hall. 'Hello...Hello.' The phone was replaced in its cradle.

'Who was it, Mr B!' She called.

'No idea, miss,' he poked his head through the door. 'There was someone there, I'm sure of that, but they declined to speak.'

'Oh, wrong number?'

'Could be.' He smiled, 'tea, miss?'

'Lovely.' She turned her attention to Polly who had successfully rolled onto her back and was stretching and kicking her legs, waving her arms about.

Phryne laughed and pulled her up into her arms, then swung her over her head. With the baby and Jack in her life, she wasn't bothered about wrong numbers on the telephone.

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Rosie was annoyed that it was Mr Butler who answered the phone and had quickly severed the connection. She would have to judge the time a bit better next time. She started cutting letters out of the newspaper. The wording would have to be strong, but not the kind of thing they would expect from her. So adjectives describing her previous way of life were out, so were death threats, those they ran through her head on an hourly basis.

She took another mouthful of gin, funny how she had never been a drinker, just the odd glass of wine with her dinner; now she couldn't get through the day without copious amounts of the strong liquor. It numbed her senses, helped her forget, but it hindered her thinking of things to send in the letters.

Out in her father's garden, now sadly neglected, she found a dead bird. The maggots had started on it and she had a thought, a most unpleasant thought. She went inside and found a pair of old gloves and a box. Back in the garden she scooped up the bird into the box, smiling to herself.

Inside the house she wrapped the bird in tissue paper, lay it in a nest of more tissue and covered it. Putting the lid on, she wrapped the box in brown paper, tied it with string and addressed it to 'The Honourable Phryne Robinson', in block capital letters so unlike her own handwriting. Deciding to send it through the Melbourne post, it would rot even more, she cleaned her teeth to get rid of the smell of gin and headed out to the post office.

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Polly had begun to almost sleep through the night. Mac said she was growing well and, at Phryne's twelve week check she declared the mother fit for active duty!

'Jack will be pleased,' she grinned.

'Not only Jack,' Mac laughed, 'knowing you.'

'Doctor, you make me sound like a nymphomaniac!'

'No, just a normal healthy woman.' Mac patted her cheek and filled out the notes in her file. 'Now, it's at this point I usually talk about preventative measures, if the mother wants a rest before the next child.'

'Really, I thought...'

'It's usually only things like understanding that every time a woman is intimate she runs the risk of another pregnancy. As you know I'm not supposed to provide any actual equipment.'

'Well, do you think I need another device, or will the old one be ok?' Phryne thought a two year gap between her children, if she was going to have another, would be good.

'I should fit you for another, just in case.' Mac agreed, 'it's up to you whether or not you use it.'

'Thank you, Mac.'

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Jack arrived home while Polly was being fed.

'How was your appointment with Mac?' He draped his jacket over a chair in the bedroom and sat on the end of the bed facing her.

'Good. I'm fit for active duty,' she smirked, 'she's going to fit me for another device in case I decide not to risk another pregnancy. Polly is doing everything she should and I've been given permission to try her on something more than milk.'

'Like what?' He wondered what on earth a toothless child could possibly eat.

'Anything mashed or pureed. Nothing too rich or creamy. We tried potato today.' Phryne looked at her daughter with pride.

'And...'

'It was really funny. She kind of rolled it around in her mouth and half of it came out again, but, all things considered, a success!'

'Our little girl is growing up, it would seem.' He moved further up the bed and watched still fascinated.

'Mmm...' Phryne hummed, more to herself than anything, 'there will come a time when she can't stay in the bedroom with us.'

'Quite, that part of her education can wait some years.' Jack smirked, 'now that she almost goes through the night perhaps she should go into the nursery.' He watched for her reaction.

'I suppose so, we could try it.' She looked into his eyes, 'We must try it,' she drew herself up, 'she is a little big for the bassinet, anyway. She has a lovely cot in her room, and a few soft toys.'

'I know, it'll be strange, not having her snuffling beside the bed, but, if you can't let her go into the nursery how will you let her go to school?'

Phryne finished feeding Polly and handed her to her father,

'I must be getting soft,' she looked over her shoulder as she headed to the bathroom. 'I'm going to have a bath, why don't you settle her down...' She adopted a sultry tone.

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She lay draped over his chest, satisfied with his ministrations. They had indulged while she was pregnant but as she got bigger it got more difficult in the bath.

He trickled water down her back, making her shiver. She lifted her head and moved herself up his body to kiss him. He dropped the sponge into the bath and ran his hands down her spine to cradle her bottom. It was not his finger she felt as she wriggled against him.

'Jack...' she moaned into his mouth, 'oh, Jack.' His fingers began to explore, sliding over her folds then dipping in and out until she was calling for him, 'Please, Jack! Now!' It wasn't often she begged but it had been a while since they had been able to spend so much time in the bath, together, Polly would always disturb them, but now it would seem she was going to let her parents have some peace. He lowered her down and she reached between their wet bodies to touch him and feel him begin to throb as she slowly slid over him. The rhythm was slow, at first, then as he urged her on to oblivion the water sloshed around them and over the side of the bath until she arched and screamed his name before falling onto his chest again, breathless and pink.

'Definitely fit for duty,' he murmured into her hair.

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Jack kissed Phryne good bye and headed off to the station. They had a shipment of rum and brandy to deal with, that was being sold under the counter at bars, and in back alleys. These smugglers were devious and so far they had been unable to find where it was coming from. He was on the point of asking his wife to do some undercover detective work, but decided against it, when one of his officers was shot. It was not a fatal wound but he would be out of action for a couple of weeks. Their investigations were centred on the docks. As he took his coat and hat the phone rang. He answered it, wondering if it would be another of the silent calls they had been receiving, but no, it was Hugh. He was calling to say Dot was close to giving birth, having been taken into hospital the previous evening, and he wanted to stay there.

'Of course, Collins,' Jack smiled, who was he to deny him this? 'Let us know what happens, I think Phryne will be in, or Mr Butler will take a message. Give Dorothy our love.' As he put the phone down he realised it was a strange thing to say to his Senior Constable, but they were friends as well, off duty. He told Phryne who grinned remembering the conversation she had had with her companion about where she was giving birth. Dot had opted to go into hospital, less confident that Phryne about the whole thing, even after seeing how easily her mistress had coped. Mac was in attendance so she knew she was in good hands.

'Post, miss.' Mr Butler placed the letters and a box on the table.

'Oh, wonder who sent that. It's nobody's birthday...'

'It will be your wedding anniversary next week, miss,' Mr Butler started to clear the table. 'Will there be a celebration?'

'Commiseration with Jack, it should be. Putting up with me for a whole year.' She pouted, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

'He looks rather well on it, if I may say so.' He smiled gently back.

'You may, and thank you.' She tipped her head in thought. 'You know, Mr B, a party is definitely called for, it has been a year to celebrate. Family and friends, I think, I rather enjoyed the intimacy of Polly's baptism. Gosh, am I getting old?'

'Not you miss, never you.' He murmured just loud enough for her to hear.

'Best send out some invitations, I'll ask Jack what he would like to do, later.' She turned her attention to the box that had initiated the conversation.

'Oh, my god!' She screamed, 'who the ...'

'Miss?' Mr B was immediately by her side to see what had caused the sudden outburst. He picked up the box and took it out to the kitchen. The bird was riddled with maggots and the smell was intolerable. Violet was taking some washing out to hang on the line,

'Goodness, Mr Butler,' she gasped, putting one hand over her nose, 'what on earth is that?'

'It was sent in the post for Miss Fisher.' He only called her Miss Fisher when Mrs Robinson senior was around. 'A dead bird, long dead by the look of it.'

'How revolting.' Violet grimaced, 'who by? Oh, I suppose there was no name on it.'

'No.' Mr Butler went outside, holding the offending object at arm's length. 'I will have to keep it for the Inspector to see,' he thought, 'in this outbuilding, I think, it's the coldest.'

'Is Phryne alright?'

'Unlikely. I'm afraid my priority was to get it out of the dining room.'

'Right, I'll go to her,' she put the basket of laundry on the kitchen table and headed into the dining room.

Phryne was nursing a glass of water, her face almost ashen. She'd had insulting letters, even death threats through the post, but nothing as revolting and nauseating as a dead, putrefying bird, or any animal, come to that.

'Phryne, dear. Are you alright?' Violet sat next to her and put her arm round her shoulders.

Phryne shook her head and gave her a wan smile, 'Rather shocked, to be honest, but I'll get over it.' She smiled again, this time more broadly, but Violet wasn't fooled.

'You will tell Jack, won't you?'

'I don't want to worry him.' Phryne grimaced, knowing in her heart he would have to know. 'But, I suppose I shall have to.'

'Mr Butler has put it in one of the outhouses for now.' Violet stood up, satisfied that Phryne had come to no actual harm, apart from to her sensibilities. 'I'll go back to what I was doing, shout if you need anything.'

'I think I'll take Polly for a walk, it's a lovely morning.' Phryne pushed her chair back and smiled at her mother in law, 'thank you, Violet, everything will be ok.'

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As Phryne usually took her walk in the afternoon she did not meet Concetta. Other mothers and nannies stopped to pass the time of day but, otherwise, it was an unremarkable stroll; which was just what she wanted. She sat for a while in the Botanical Gardens and watched some small children playing with their carers, thinking into the future when that would be Polly, running around, skinning her knees, finding things on the ground. When she was old enough she would take her over to young Freddy, and teach her to climb trees. Looking at her watch she determined she had better head home before Polly decided it was feeding time. Today they were going to try her on mashed banana and stewed apple.

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Her timing was perfect. Polly was ready for a change and a feed, Mr Butler and Violet had prepared the fruit for the child to sample and it awaited her in the kitchen.

'I'll give her, her main feed first,' Phryne grinned, heading upstairs, 'then we'll try the fruit. Should be interesting.'

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Indeed the new food did prove interesting. Polly, it would seem, was a quick learner and less of the mush found its way down her chin. Either that or she preferred the sweeter taste to that of the rather bland potato she had been given the previous day. She smacked her lips over the banana more than the apple, but when the two were tried together Phryne swore she rolled her eyes in pleasure.

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Within a month Polly was almost completely weaned. Phryne fed her morning and night, with a little suckle after her midday meal, and mid morning and afternoon, but milk was now not her main source of nourishment. Mac declared her, her mother's daughter and told Phryne that her milk would gradually dry up as Polly fed less off her.

'Oh,' Phryne looked thoughtful, 'well I suppose it would have to, can't have her crawling under my blouse when she starts school.' She shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

'You found it better than you thought you would, didn't you?' Mac smiled tenderly.

'I found the whole thing better than I thought I would, Mac,' she looked across the sitting room at her oldest friend, 'I thought I'd feel heavy, tied and tired, but I don't. With Jack and Polly I feel complete, content, oh hell, Mac, I'm getting soppy. Do you think I've lost my marbles?'

'Darling, you lost those years ago,' Mac laughed, 'no, you've just discovered who you are. Like putting the last brick in place on a house, as you say, complete. You never know what you're missing until it turns up. I guess Jack, his love and Polly, her dependence on you, were two missing bricks from your house.'

Phryne grinned,'... much to celebrate then, albeit later than we planned. Do you realise Jack and I have been married over a year?' She changed the subject, 'we were going to have a party on the date, but, somehow, with one thing and another...'

'Have you found out who's sending the nasty mail and revolting parcels?'

'No, but now I don't open any, Mr Butler, who is fast heading for sainthood, has volunteered for this dreadful duty.' She smiled, 'but it did rather curtail any thoughts of a celebration.'

'You'd better remedy that then, immediately.' Mac closed her bag, finished her tea and stood up, 'I shall await my invitation.' She winked and left Phryne to plan a proper party.

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Even with the silent phone calls and the unacceptable gifts life went on smoothly at Wardlow. Jack had asked one of the junior constables to canvas all the post offices in Melbourne, get a name or a description of anyone sending packages to his wife.

'Sorry, sir,' the constable mumbled, 'but they come through at the busiest times, all they can tell me is it is a woman, middle aged. She hides her face, looks down and wears a close fitting hat.

'Damn!' He cursed.

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The delayed celebration of their wedding anniversary took priority for Phryne, discussing the menu with Mr Butler, they had decided to make it a lunch, a long one, but she wanted Polly to be there even though she would have no idea what was going on.

'Phryne, dear,' Aunt Prudence had called round for tea one afternoon. 'May I suggest you hold it at my house. It's bigger and your guests would have more room.'

Indeed Phryne and Jack had wondered about hiring a room at the Windsor. They had decided against a sit down meal, with too many invited to fit round their dining table comfortably.

'I could make a room available for you if you need to see to Polly.'

'Aunt P, that is perfectly sweet of you.' Phryne grinned, 'we were wondering if we would have room for everybody. Are you sure you don't mind?'

'Darling, of course not, I would be honoured,' Prudence smiled, 'but are you sure you don't mind Guy and Isabella being there.'

'Heavens, no! They are family, and maybe I can persuade Isabella that babies aren't that bad.' Phryne laughed at the thought of plonking Polly on her cousin's knee.

'If only...' Aunt Prudence sighed.

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Phryne's household decamped to the Stanley house the night before the party and installed themselves in a suite for the family and a room next door for Violet. A room for Mr Butler was secured near the rest of the household staff. Dot, Hugh and their baby boy, Reggie, would be over early on the day of the celebration; so all was set.

Just to annoy Isabella and Guy, Phryne insisted Polly be in her travelling basket in the dining room during dinner. Aunt Prudence didn't seem to mind a bit, in fact she fussed over her great niece, having her on her knee and feeding her tiny bits of squashed vegetable from her fingers. Phryne hid her smiles in her napkin or by taking a sip of wine as Isabella, at one point, shuddered to see Polly spit out some spinach.

'Don't you like that, kitten?' Mrs Stanley cooed.

'I think the taste is a bit strong for her yet, Aunt Prudence.' Phryne handed her a napkin to wipe the baby's chin and her sleeve.

'Probably.' She agreed.

'Now, if there is some fruit for dessert, she'll enjoy that,' Jack added, 'she has a sweet tooth.'

'She doesn't have any teeth,' Guy guffawed.

'Guy, you really are a twit.' Phryne teased.

'I really don't understand why you don't have a nanny, Phryne..' Isabella questioned, '... I mean, the mess, your gowns.'

Phryne just looked at her, 'Mother didn't have one for me or Janey,' she pointed out, 'so...I thought I'd give it a go. Turns out I actually enjoy spending time with my daughter, don't knock it 'til you've tried it.'

Prudence watched this discourse with amusement, and, taking note of what Jack had said, she pressed some ripe peach flesh onto a spoon and tried Polly with it. She laughed as the baby smacked her lips with pleasure and reached out a chubby hand for the spoon.

'Oh no you don't,' she kissed the still downy head, 'that will go everywhere.' She gave her a little more.

Isabella was obviously not convinced and Phryne could tell she was relieved when she took Polly for her bedtime feed.

'I'll be back down when I've settled her,' she excused herself.

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'So, old chap,' Guy passed Jack a brandy, 'suppose Phryne is rather too busy with the child to pay you much attention. Unless your mother takes Polly out of the way.' This last in a whisper as Violet was chatting happily to Prudence, while Isabella looked on, bored.

'What do you mean, Guy?' Jack was confused, what did his cousin in law think mothers did all day.

'Well, you know...' Though it was clear to Jack, Guy had no idea what a hands on mother actually did. 'The bedroom.'

Jack didn't know whether to laugh or to call him outside and give him a thrashing for insinuating Phryne was no longer interested in, or had time for,

sex. Instead he did neither,

'I think that's between me and my wife.' He turned and went to talk to the ladies, not even Isabella would say anything like that. She would probably talk to Phryne about that, certainly not to him.

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Up in the bedroom Aunt Prudence had had the old cot cleaned and set up for Polly. As Phryne settled her in it she thought she looked rather tiny compared to how she looked in the bassinet. She tucked the blankets tightly round her and leant in to kiss her,

'Sweet dreams my darling child,' she whispered, 'I love you.'

She pulled the cot-side up and secured it in place before checking she was tidy and heading back downstairs to see what mischief her cousin Guy was getting up to. He had said practically nothing at dinner, just listened and watched the ladies and Jack, apart from his silly comment about Polly's dental state.

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Guy was standing alone, gazing out of the window over the garden and the pool beyond.

'Abandoned, Guy?' She teased, helping herself to a small brandy.

'Uh? Oh it's you Phryne.' He turned, 'finished whatever it is you do now?'

She felt a distinct iciness to his tone.

'What's go your goat, Guy?' She perched on the edge of a chair, 'jealous?'

'God know,' he sniffed, 'what have I got to be jealous about?'

'I really don't know, but I get the distinct impression you envy me.' She could almost read her cousin like a book, almost. 'You used to think I was rather brave, being a Lady Detective, at least, that's what you told me, once, brave or foolhardy. Now I have something you don't and I like it, the family life.''

'Well, you used to be such fun,' he looked down on her, 'dancing, drinking, out all night, taking home god knows who...'

'Those days have gone,' She stared into her glass, 'I will still dance if I want to, drink when I want to but there is only one man for me, now...'

'He's a copper, Phryne, not one of our set.' He hissed, 'it was ok when he just hung around with puppy dog eyes, but did you have to go and marry him?'

Phryne was not going to walk away as Jack had done. Guy had insulted her and her husband, who was a hundred, no, a thousand, times the man Guy Stanley was. Handsome, generous, loving, gentle... she could think of any number of adjectives to describe her husband, and she counted herself a very lucky woman that Jack Robinson would think her worthy to be his wife.

'I didn't come here to be insulted,' she snapped.

'No, where do you usually go?' He dropped his glass as the sting of her hand against his cheek made him gasp.

'You are not worthy to breathe the same air as he does,' she snarled, 'he has more honour in his little finger than you have in your entire being, more of a man than you will ever be.' She drained her glass and stormed over to her aunt and the others. 'Will you excuse me Aunt Prudence, the air is rather stale in here, I think I'll go to bed. Goodnight, Isabella, Violet.' She turned to Jack,

'I'll head up too, I think,' he offered her his arm, instantly understanding the look on her face, 'goodnight ladies.'

Prudence watched them go then glared across at her son, he had upset her favourite, and only niece, and that made her angry. She would have strong words with him,

'Study, Guy,' she commanded. 'Now!'

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'What did you say to Phryne?' Mrs Stanley looked up and pursed her lips.

'We traded insults as usual,' he grumbled.

'About Jack?'

'He's a copper, mother, not one of us.' Guy sulked. 'What the hell does she see in him?'

'He's a good man, Guy. He loves her and that is enough.' His mother sat down, 'he has changed her, but in a good way. I've never seen her happier, or more settled.'

'Oh right, so she's now your golden girl, after all she did, how often she disappointed you.'

'I don't think Phryne has ever disappointed me, Guy.' Prudence sighed, 'surprised me, annoyed me on occasion, but, she has never been anything other than true to herself and I find myself admiring her, more and more, for her strength, her capacity to love all those about her, her ability to say to hell with society here I am and here I intend to stay.'

Guy snorted and left with his nose in the air.

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In their bedroom Jack watched his wife take her jewellery off and noticed her white knuckles as she gripped her fascinator.

'Phryne?' He went up behind her, 'what's wrong?'

'Wrong? Why should anything be wrong?' She didn't turn round but in the reflection in the mirror he could see the angry tears she was trying not to shed.

'Oh, I don't know,' he tried to lighten the situation, 'a slap to your cousin's face, angry words, comments about 'stale air', after you have spoken to him...'

She leant into his strong hold, 'he was rude, that's all, about you, about us.' She turned and looked up into his gentle face, 'I won't be insulted, by that lazy, parasite of a being.'

'Oh Phryne, ' he kissed her forehead, 'my champion.'

That made Phryne smile, 'I think that's the wrong way round,' she sniffed.

'This is us, Phryne, darling, I don't care what way round, I'll be your champion when you want me to be.'

'Would you be my champion, now,' she smiled and ran her fingers down the lapel of his evening jacket, 'I think I need rescuing...'

'...from what?'

'Myself.'

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Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter finished. Hope you like it.