He stood at the door gazing at the two girls curled up together in the bed. He had absolutely no idea how to bring up children, that was his wife's job, but she had stormed out after a huge row over money. He tried, god knows he tried, to bring home enough to feed them but he had his schemes, schemes he hoped would bring in the pounds, take them out of Collingwood to the more exclusive parts of Melbourne. Life wasn't easy for a man with no trade except his wits, though they had let him down this time and he'd ended up using the money for food to pay a fine. He didn't even have enough for a drink in the pub.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Earlier that evening:
"What do we do now?" the younger of the two girls tugged her sister's hand, "Phryne, I'm hungry."
"Don't worry," Phryne pulled her sister close, "come on, let's see what's left in the kitchen." They watched their father stomp off down the road knowing he would be heading to the pub, regardless of the lack of funds. When he came back, they expected him to be drunk and if they were in view, they would probably get a beating.
There wasn't much left in the kitchen, the end of a loaf of stale bread, the scrapings out of a tray where their mother had fried some fatty chops the previous evening. The last half decent meal they had had. Phryne cut the bread into two uneven but thick slices. She put a light to the sticks and paper in the fire grate and toasted the bread over the meagre flames then spread the fatty scrapings over it. It wasn't particularly tasty but it filled up their empty stomachs and when they were finished, they tidied up so their father wouldn't see they had been eating; he would expect them to have made something for him.
"What're we going to do, Phryne?" Janey cuddled up to her, "I mean if mumma doesn't come back?"
"Not sure, yet," she kissed her sister's fair hair, "we'll go to school tomorrow, but you mustn't tell that mum has gone away, they'll try to put us in an orphanage."
She went to sleep knowing she had to find a way to feed her sister and herself, and protect her from their father. If they got up early, they could walk to school through the market, there might be some stuff dropped, there sometimes was. One day she had found an apple, it was the most delicious apple she had ever eaten, she and Janey had found a corner out of sight and taken turns taking bites out of the fruit.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
For the next few days, the girls avoided their father as much as possible. They went to school early through the market and picked up what they could, and on the way home they would scour the bins where waste had been thrown and found enough to make some kind of meal for all of them. They would leave something out for their father before escaping to bed and pretending to be asleep when he came home.
They were in bed, Janey had finally fallen asleep after Phryne had told a story about pirates sailing the seven seas, when there was a sharp knock at the door. She expected it to be the police and when their father didn't answer it, and the knocking got persistent, Phryne knew she would have to go and speak to the visitors. They would only come round the next day, and the day after that, or break down the door.
"Miss," the soldier in front of her took off his hat and smiled, "does Henry George Fisher live here?"
"Who wants to know?" she jutted her chin out defiantly.
"Captain Riley," he stood to attention.
"And if he does?" She put her hands on her hips.
"I have some good news for him." He grinned, he took an instant liking to this small but audacious child he saw in front of him.
"PHRYNE!" Henry bellowed from the living room.
"It's a soldier, dad," she gulped, preparing herself for a beating, "he wants to see you, he has good news for you, so he says."
Henry peered round the doorway and blinked in the dimly lit hallway. He'd managed to find enough money for a few beers and had been contentedly sleeping them off when the Captain knocked on the door.
"Sir," Captain Riley snapped a salute, "Henry George Fisher?"
"What of it?" Henry grunted.
"You take some finding," he huffed, "seems, from what's been found, you are the next Baron Fisher of Richmond upon Thames, in England, that is, sir."
"Me, a Baron?" he cleared his throat, "have we got any tea, child?"
Phryne thought she might manage to make one cup with what they had left. Only their mother drank tea so it hadn't been touched since she left, and she'd pinched a bottle of milk off an unsuspecting neighbour's doorstep very early that morning, because Janey wanted a drink of milk.
"Yes dad," she swallowed, "shall I put the kettle on?"
"Get on with it," he growled and waved her away.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The stove was still warm, embers clung to life and fired up when she threw on another chair leg. They were down to one and a half rickety chairs now, it had been the only way she had been able to light the stove. She set the kettle to boil, rinsed out the tea pot and cleaned a cup and saucer, it was her mother's but she didn't think she'd mind. Of course, it would be nice if she could find mum, tell her she was nobility now, but they had no way of finding her. Their Aunt hadn't seen her and had offered to take the girls in when they told her she'd walked out. Mrs Prudence Stanley was the only person they had told that their mother had walked out, but Henry refused to let her take the girls.
She found a little tray, seldom if ever used, and set out the teapot, cup and saucer, a mug for her father, and a little jug with some of the milk in. She wanted Janey to have some in the morning so they couldn't have much.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
In the parlour, such as it was, Captain Riley looked around and wondered how they survived in this hovel. There didn't appear to be a woman about the house and so far, the only other person he had seen was the skinny, underfed child who opened the door.
He took out a bundle of papers and was going through the family line when Phryne took in the tray. Henry, she noticed, was scratching his head, struggling to take in what he was being told.
"Stay, Phryne," he grunted, "listen to what the Captain is telling us."
So, she poured the tea, sat on the floor and listened as Captain Riley told them how they were tracing families whose lines were apparently dying out because sons had died during the Boer Wars. It had taken ten years to find the last Baron Fisher of Richmond Upon Thames, England, but here he was.
Phryne was transfixed, they were rich, from what she understood, they had a grand house thousands of miles away in a different country, she would have nice dresses, so would Janey, good food, as much fresh milk as she could drink. It sounded wonderful.
"We shall arrange tickets on an ocean liner to take you to your new home," Captain Riley put his cup down, "and advance you some money to help with …" he thought for a brief moment, "well something for your daughter, perhaps a new dress?"
"There's Janey too, sir," Phryne dared to speak, "my sister, she's in bed, asleep."
"Then Janey should have a new dress too," he smiled. "Now, here is my card, so you can come to the office to collect the things you need, and the money," he passed it between the two, then, "perhaps, Miss Fisher, now that you are The Honourable Miss Fisher, so is Janey, you would like to do that for your father, I can see you are a very responsible young lady."
"Yes, sir, I can do that, after school." She nodded and grinned, eagerly, excited, full of wonder at the new life that seemed to be before her.
"Two day's time, my dear, that will give me time to put things in place."
"Show the Captain out, Phryne," Henry murmured, still reeling from his good fortune. A life of luxury awaited him, no more dodgy dealings, or petty theft, and no sly grog - good wine, whisky … he fell into a contented sleep.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Phryne showed the Captain out, took the tray into the kitchen and cleaned up. She thought, all the while, that she needed to see her mother, find her and tell her she was now a Baroness, if that was what a lady married to a Baron was called; if she couldn't find her in the two days she had she would ask Captain Riley for a ticket for her and leave it with Aunt Prudence. She wanted to tell Janey but, Janey had a tendency to tell secrets, so maybe she would leave that until they went to the offices. So many things ran through her mind as she curled up with her arms around her little sister and drifted off to sleep, one of which being she hoped her father would start to be a proper father and not beat her at every opportunity.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"This isn't the way home, Phryne," Janey trotted behind her two days later.
"Got an errand to run," Phryne pulled her close, "things are changing, Janey, gettin' good." She had planned what they would do that day, after seeing Captain Riley – they would go to Aunt Prudence's house and tell her what had happened and ask her to use her influence on someone to find their mother. They would also need her help in buying new clothes ready for their journey, their adventure.
"How, Phryne?"
"You'll see, it's all good, Janey, I promise … her we are." They stood outside a grand building – the town hall.
"We can't go in there," Janey pulled her back.
"Got to," Phryne grinned, "got to see someone. Come on, don't be scared."
Janey had got into enough scrapes with her elder sister over the years, Phryne was bold and daring, she was quiet – Smee to Phryne's Captain Hook. She pulled back.
"Janey, it's alright," Phryne stopped and put her arms round her shoulders, "there's a man in here who has money for us …"
"Oh Phryne, no …" Janey shook her head, images of things people had told her, of girls who had gone missing from the district.
"Not like that, silly," Phryne huffed, "dad's a Baron, now, nobility, but we have to go to England - to a new house. This man, Captain Riley, came round the other night, he has all the papers, and he told me to come today and get tickets for an ocean liner and money for new dresses. See here …" she pulled the card from her pocket. "… and he's here, you can't work here if you do bad things."
The doorman was as reluctant to let them in as Janey was to enter, but on production of Riley's card, and a message from him left that day he told them how to get to the office they were looking for.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
They were ushered into the office by a young woman who had obviously been told to expect them. She seemed kind and once they were sitting opposite Captain Riley she went out and swiftly returned with glasses of cold lemonade and a plate of biscuits, and tea for the Captain.
"Now, Miss Phryne, Miss Janey," he smiled, "I have tickets for you and your father for the Oriana next week …"
"What about mumma?" Janey whispered.
"We don't know where our mother is, Captain," Phryne explained, "but can we have a ticket for her, just in case? I was going to ask our Aunt, Mrs Prudence Stanley, to find someone to look for her – then she could come after us."
"Ah, I wondered, the other night," he hummed, "I though perhaps she was out …" where he wasn't sure but it was a reasonable explanation for her absence.
"No, sir," Phryne bit her lip, she hated admitting their mother had left them, "she and dad, well, they had a bit of a spat …"
"I see," he nodded, "well, a ticket would have to be bought for a specific ship, however, if your aunt comes to me when she is found then I can arrange her passage, if that would suit?"
"I suppose so, it's the best way?" Phryne frowned.
"It is, I shall give you a letter to give to your aunt, and a copy of all the papers so she understands what is happening."
"Thank you, I thought she might help us buy our new clothes too, she'll know where to go for the best for us."
"You seem to have quite a head on your shoulders, Miss Phryne, good sense," he smiled and looked at Janey, "your sister is quite a remarkable young lady, Miss Janey."
Janey nodded still slightly scared of this man and the grand surroundings. She sipped her lemonade, quite the loveliest thing she had ever tasted, and wondered if she could have lemonade in their new home so far away.
"Now, my dears," Riley continued, handing Phryne a large envelope, "this is the paperwork you will want to show your aunt and also when you get to England, anywhere where you are asked for proof of your identity, of who you are. Here," he handed her another envelope, "is some money for new clothes or whatever you think you need. There is money in the bank in England and the man that will meet you there will explain everything else. Do you need me to talk to your father again?"
"No, sir," Phryne shook her head, "he told me to see to it. He's still a bit shocked …" by which she meant he had spent the past two days wrapping himself round bottles of beer.
"I see, now, are you headed to your aunt's now?"
"Yes sir, it's a tidy walk but we can make it."
"Nonsense, not with that money in your pocket, Miss Phryne?" He frowned and shook his head, thoughts of what would happen to two such sweet little urchins carrying a large amount of cash. Any amount of cash in fact. "I have a car standing by to take you where you need to go, be that your aunt's or home." Captain Riley stood up and called for his secretary. "The car will wait for you and take you home after you have seen her."
"That's very kind of you, Captain, but Aunt Prudence's chauffeur usually takes us home, and the neighbours are used to seeing him." She shook her head. "Thank you, for everything," she smiled, "and thank you for the lemonade and biscuits, they were lovely."
Captain Riley looked at the two ragamuffins in front of him, scruffy, underfed they may be, but they had been brought up with manners and, he thought, pride.
"You are most welcome," he shook their hands, "good luck, and if you need any more help please call, or come straight to the office, my secretary will be happy to help, or come and find me."
"Sir," Phryne had a question that had been gnawing at the back of her brain, "has this happened a lot? Families losing men, I mean, have you had to find missing heirs for a lot of them?"
"I have, my dear," he nodded sadly, "war is a dreadful thing, I hope it is something you never have to experience."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Mrs Stanley was surprised to see her two nieces appear at the front door, but it was a welcome diversion from her son's latest escapade at school, for which he had been sent home to 'reflect on his behaviour' yet again.
"Phryne, Janey!" she gathered them to her ample bosom and kissed them on their foreheads, "what a delightful surprise!" She looked outside and saw the car driving off. "Who was that?" she frowned, she didn't like the girls accepting lifts from strange men, she had heard things.
"Captain Riley's driver," Phryne smiled, "here, you need to read this, Aunt P."
"Come in, come in … the parlour," she ushered them through and called for milk and biscuits.
While she read through the papers the Captain had supplied, the girls sat on the couch and waited. Janey wandered over to the piano and played a few notes, oh, how she wished she could learn – maybe she could now, maybe she could have lessons, in England. She looked up at Phryne and saw her smile and nod, almost as if she had read her mind, she had.
"You can learn, now, Janey," she went and sat by her, "I'm sure you'll be much better than me."
"But you can sing, Phryne, you sing prettily."
"Maybe."
"Phryne?" Mrs Stanley called her over, "is this true, all this? Your father is a Baron?"
"Yes, Aunt P, he is. He's not quite taken it in, yet, that's why I'm here. Captain Riley gave me money, for new clothes for me and Janey, and I think dad will need some new shirts, at least, but …"
"… if you give him the money he will go out and celebrate …"
Phryne hummed, "Please, Aunt Prudence, will you help me and Janey get some new dresses, and some things for dad. I know you think he doesn't deserve them but if we are to present ourselves in England we should be nicely turned out, don't you think?"
"You, my dear niece, are such a wise child, so clever. But what about your mother?"
"Captain Riley will hold a liner ticket for her, until she is found, then she can come and join us, but we are going next week …" Phryne sat next to her, "… Aunt P, I really want her to be with us, we miss her very much, but …"
"Darling girls," Mrs Stanley waved Janey over to join them, "I miss her too. But now we have to see to you and your new dresses, and shoes and … oh so much … I will see to finding someone to locate you mother and send her to you, after I have given her a piece of my mind."
Phryne giggled at that, she knew how it would be if her mother turned up, something along the lines of 'how could you leave your babes to his mercy!' Aunt P had her standards, and without Uncle Edward to stop her, her sister would feel about an inch tall.
"Now, tomorrow, we shall tell the school you are moving, Miss Charlesworth will have to know, then we shall go shopping. I shall come for you in the car … around nine o'clock?"
Phryne and Janey threw their arms round her neck, she really was the most wonderful aunt.
"Girls," she laughed, "now - dinner?"
"Captain Riley gave us lemonade and biscuits …" Janey laughed, it was the most joyous she had been for days, over a week in fact.
"I must meet him," Mrs Stanley disentangled herself, "and thank him for looking after my darlings. Well, as you are full of lemonade and biscuits, I shall ask cook to parcel up some food for you all."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"We don't need her charity," Henry grunted when Phryne set out the dinner Mrs Stanley had sent.
"It's a kindness, dad," Phryne huffed, "until we get sorted, with the Baron thing, an' all. She's going to take me and Janey for new clothes, like Captain Riley said, and I thought you might like some new shirts? Maybe?"
"Well, at least we'll be miles away from the interfering …"
"Dad!" Phryne yelled, "don't be mean! Aunt Prudence could have taken us away, but she didn't, she's helpin' that's all."
"Huh," he filled his mouth with the chicken pie Mrs Stanley's housekeeper had wrapped up.
Phryne ignored him, and gave Janey a piece of the pie and some vegetables. "Eat up," she urged, "I've saved some for tomorrow."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It was only when they were finally on the liner that Phryne had the time to think about what had happened. She had almost come to terms with being The Honourable Phryne Fisher, just, and her father being the Baron of Richmond (upon Thames, England) but the new luxury of pretty dresses, soft undergarments and food whenever she wanted, it was a lot to take in. Aunt Prudence had been wonderful when she took them shopping; she bought them, with the money provided, fine cotton underwear, pretty slips to go under their smart, and well-made dresses, skirts and blouses. They had stocking without darns and runs in them, shoes that didn't pinch and coats that would keep them warm in the English winter, with hats to match – and gloves!
"Phryne," Janey twirled round, "look, Aunt Prudence must have bought these when we weren't looking, new nightgowns, and here," she lifted something from a trunk, "robes … Oh Phryne …"
Janey's joy was infectious, and even if their father continued to drink – albeit better quality whisky and wine – they could get through this. She would take care of her little sister until their mother was found.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The voyage was long and Janey was a little seasick at the start of the journey, but with her sister's help and advice from a lady who had children with her she managed to get over it. Phryne and she explored the ship from top to bottom, literally. They found the engine rooms and talked to the men shovelling coal into the boilers, the galley where they were given tastes of the upcoming meals, the Captain allowed them up onto the bridge and showed them how the ship was steered and how they found their way over the vast oceans. He also explained that there was a school running on the ship and they could attend lessons.
"I rather think it might be a good idea, Miss Fisher," he smiled kindly, "better than having to play catch up when your father finds a school for you in England. But, if you don't want to, or your father doesn't want you to, we have a pretty good library on board, that you could borrow books from."
Phryne considered this. Miss Charlesworth had persuaded their father to let her continue in her education, saying she was a bright girl and would be able to go further in the world than just being a maid in a wealthy household, and when their Aunt had taken them to see her and tell her why they were leaving school she had reminded her that a whole new world was opening up for her and she should take the opportunity with both hands. So, she decided they would give it a try, Janey wanted to anyway, but she wouldn't go on her own.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Janey was quite happy to follow the lessons being taught; being nearly three years behind her sister the level of learning was about right for her, and the teacher was happy to give her some work that was a little more of a stretch for her, but Phryne was bored. She could do the English easily and the arithmetic was a cinch, she was quick with numbers and calculating and very soon became bored. The teacher was a pleasant young woman and quite a good teacher, but Phryne was one of the eldest children there and needed something to test her quick brain. She caught her, one day, perusing the various menus for the meals.
"Wondering what to try next, Miss?" she lifted one from the desk.
"Oh, no, well, I was wondering why the menus are so different. Surely the cooks have enough to do …"
"Well, I suppose it depends on which class you are. But, here, how about you try this … I want you to calculate the cost, per person, of each of the meals if the passage costs …" she reeled off imaginary fares for three different classes, gave her a prospective number of days for a voyage, then, after explaining percentages to her, gave her a percentage of each fare for laundry, wages and food, and number of passengers carried in each class, then left her to her work.
It took her a couple of days, but she enjoyed the challenge, strangely. Her next challenge, once Miss Thompson found out she was going to start a new life in a grand house and without her mother, was to see to the finances of a grand house, the wages of the staff, grocery costs, stable costs …
"Such a lot to think about, Miss," Phryne sighed.
"True, but without your mother you are the lady of the house and there will be much more than this to deal with." Miss Thompson took her hand, "I know you can do this, Miss Phryne, I have faith in you."
"I wish I had faith in me," Phryne sighed, "it's not what I am used to."
"What are you used to?"
"We lived in Collingwood, dad got the baron thing because the last of the line died during the Boer War, we've never had much, scrimped and saved … we don't know where our mother is … I've done my best, recently, with Janey and help from our Aunt, mother's sister … but …"
"Phryne," Miss Thompson sighed, "may I make a suggestion?"
"Uh huh," Phryne nodded.
"I have recently left a post as a governess, I have references, but I have little for me when I return to England …"
"You want a job?"
"Well, it would be nice …"
"Um, can I talk to my father," Phryne chewed her lip, "maybe he would like someone to help Janey – and me, of course, get set in the ways of society …"
Phryne didn't know why she trusted this woman, but she did. Miss Thompson had been nothing but kind, when others would have sent her packing, she had seen a bright but frustrated student and really wanted to help her.
"Sounds like a good idea, Miss Phryne," she smiled and patted her arm, "now, how about those household expenses …"
Phryne giggled and set to work.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Dad," Phryne implored, "she needs a job, Janey needs a teacher and … and … I need someone to help me. Mum isn't here and that means I will be the Lady of the house … won't I?" the last she murmured almost weakly.
Henry grumbled and huffed, but it would mean he didn't have to do too much and she was right, she would be the Lady of the House. He had no idea how a noble house ran, he just thought he would give orders and stride about the grounds, shooting game and hosting extravagant gatherings. It wasn't that he was uneducated it was just that he had been born to a soldier, become a soldier in the Boer War, found a pretty lass and married her. After that it was all just girls and arguments about not bringing in a living wage, and drinking … yes, Phryne, his clever little girl was right, he would leave her to it.
"Seems like you are in charge, Phryne," he slurred, "I'll leave you to it."
And so, Phryne Fisher – the Honourable Phryne Fisher, became, at the age of eleven years and eight months, the Chatelaine of Buttonleigh Manor, in Somerset, England.
She took charge, as only she could, as only the way she saw she should … strong and proud.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"How do I greet them, Miss Thompson?" Phryne whispered as she alighted from the carriage.
"Politely, my dear," Miss Thompson smiled, "they are adults so you must remember that, they know how the estate works, how the house runs, and they will support you more than you know. Never offend, never be rude or superior …"
"Dad is …" Phryne wasn't sure how to phrase this. She had watched her father round the ship and knew he was likely to be pompous, bombastic, demanding and high handed.
"But you aren't," Miss Thompson patted her arm, "you are good and kind, respectful, I know that, and you will learn. I have shown you how to behave at the table, and when you have visitors, you will be fine."
Phryne allowed herself a little giggle and helped Janey down before facing the line of household staff waiting to meet them.
Henry had watched them; he was completely out of his depth and Phryne had told him to be quiet and follow her lead.
"Dad," she had held his hand as they approached the house, "please, we need to have these people stay with us, just, follow me and Janey – Miss Thompson has told us how to behave, don't antagonise them."
"Well," he huffed, "antagonise, Phryne, not a good way to talk to your father …"
"Dad," she urged, "this is so different to what we know. I don't want to argue with you, you are the Baron, but you have to act like one, be benevolent, charming … you can be charming, I know you can."
She had watched him on the ship, when he wasn't drinking in a salon, or a bar, teasing and laughing with ladies, smiling and chatting which had annoyed her because none of them were her mother and she missed her very much - he had been 'charming'.
The housekeeper stepped forward, "Lord Fisher, Miss Fisher and … Miss Fisher," she smiled and bobbed a little curtsey, "welcome to Buttonleigh Manor. I am Mrs Worthy, the housekeeper."
"Mrs Worthy," Henry nodded and let her introduce the butler, his valet and one of the maids to help the young Misses. She introduced the cook, a motherly looking woman all dressed in white, who smiled at the girls making them feel welcome.
Mrs Worthy looked behind the family group at Miss Thompson and wondered who she was, not family, but not a servant, either.
"This is Miss Thompson," Phryne pulled her forward, "she is our governess."
"Miss," Mrs Worthy looked her up and down and pursed her lips.
"Mrs Worthy," she held out her hand, "lovely to meet you."
Mrs Worthy would be the judge of that, but a governess for the young Misses was a good idea, or they would run wild around the estate. She had been told a little of where the Baron had come from – Australia – but not all the details of their circumstances. He seemed reserved, which, from what she had heard was unusual for an Australian, but he kept a close watch on his daughters. She had taken immediately to them, the elder one seemed to be in charge of her little sister, who stood quietly by her side, eyes wide open in wonder. All she knew of the Baroness was that she was unable to travel at the moment, but hopefully, in time, would follow on.
"Shall I see to the luggage, My Lord?" the butler gave a little bow.
"Eh, what?" Henry blinked, "oh, yes, capital idea, er …"
"Simpson, father," Phryne nudged him and whispered, changing the usual 'dad' to 'father', now, Miss Thompson said it was in keeping with their new status.
"Thank you, Simpson."
Simpson clicked his fingers and young men appeared to lift the trunks and carry them into the house and up the sweeping staircase. Phryne stilled the urge to run up and slide down the bannister, but it was tempting; maybe one day, when no one was looking!
"Well, My Lord," Mrs Worthy nodded to the rest of the servants to return to their posts, "shall we go in, I expect you would like a tour of the house?"
"Excellent, lovely," he cleared his throat, realising he should lead them in. "Girls …" he motioned Phryne to one side and took Janey's hand, "ready?"
"Yes, father," they nodded.
Mrs Worthy fell into step behind them, with Miss Thompson.
"What are the girls' names?" she whispered.
"Phryne and Janey," Miss Thompson pointed to each in turn. "Phryne is in charge, and was running the home before they left Melbourne."
"Poor lamb," the housekeeper mused, "the mother, the Baroness?"
"I am not sure, all I know is she was not able to be with them. Phryne is nearly twelve but she does remarkably well for one so young. I only met them on the ship, I suppose you could say I volunteered for the post, but Lord Fisher said he wanted them schooled in the ways of an English country house and offered me a position for as long as needed. I expect Phryne to be sent to a boarding school within the next year and Janey to follow. Janey is three years younger and much the quieter of the two." Miss Thompson smiled, "she wants to learn to play the piano."
"We have a lovely grand piano, it hasn't been played for years, but if we get it tuned I am sure we can find a teacher for her … unless …" Mrs Worthy looked at her.
"A little, but a professional tutor, if his Lordship will allow …"
Mrs Worthy felt a little easier, "I think we can work together, Miss Thompson, for the girls."
"I do hope so, Mrs Worthy, they are quite lovely girls, Phryne is very bright, excellent with numbers and a voracious reader, but there is a mischievous streak. We have spent a week in London, seeing a solicitor and trying to understand the financial side of things. Miss Phryne will need your help, with meal planning, running the house, who does what …" Miss Thompson sighed.
"Quite, well, all in good time," Mrs Worthy smiled, "let's get them settled in, let them explore the place, is there anything else I should know?"
"If I were you, I should ask Miss Phryne, I am still quite new to the family."
"Of course," Mrs Worthy smiled, "she has a lot to learn."
"You will find her a willing student."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
There were so many rooms to see, the parlour, a small cosy room that would be just for family, the small dining room, the formal dining room, the ballroom, the music room, a sitting room where they could entertain guests for tea or after dinner, a study, bedrooms galore, bathrooms, a nursery, a schoolroom – Phryne and Janey's heads were spinning when Mrs Worthy suggested they have tea in the small parlour to regain their bearings.
"Oh, that would be lovely," Phryne gasped, "thank you."
Janey tugged her hand.
"What's up, Janey?" she bent down.
"Phryne," her sister whispered, "I don't like tea."
"Mrs Worthy," this was to be Phryne's first order? No, her first request - "would it be possible for Janey to have lemonade? She hasn't quite grown into the taste of tea." She looked across at Miss Thompson who gave a slight nod of her head to indicate she was correct in her behaviour.
"Why of course it would," Mrs Worthy smiled, "any time you want something Miss Janey, you just come and ask – hot chocolate, milk … you just ask and I will see if I can accommodate you."
"Thank you," Janey gulped and Phryne relaxed, Mrs Worthy seemed an even more kindly soul than she had initially appeared.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
They fell into bed, exhausted. Miss Thompson settled them in and told them they had done very well, that their mother would be proud of them. They had dined in the formal dining room, sat at one end of a long table, their father between them. Three courses, three! They were used to one, sometimes a dessert on the ship but no more. They had begun their meal with salmon, poached and served on a bed of spinach, then roast chicken with rosemary roast potatoes and vegetables and followed it with peaches and cream. Peaches became Phryne's new favourite fruit.
"I don't think I shall need to eat for a week, Miss Thompson," Phryne sighed.
"You know you can go through the menus for the week with Mrs Worthy, so if you want lighter meals or smaller ones when there is just the three of you." Miss Thompson patted her hand.
"I think Janey might prefer that, she couldn't manage all of hers," Phryne pursed her lips.
"You are the lady of the house," she smiled, "but the lady of the house needs some sleep, it's been a busy day. Good night, Miss Phryne."
"Night," Phryne turned over and closed her eyes, Janey, in the bed next to her was already asleep.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The autumn sunlight, watery but warm, slipped into the room between the curtains and over the sleeping forms of two young girls wrapped around each other in one bed. The other bed showed signs of an occupant, but Janey had still not got used to sleeping alone and frequently woke during the night and crawled in with her sister. Phryne didn't mind, she didn't wake, not fully; in time Janey would learn that Phryne was always there for her, would always be there for her even if they were far apart.
Miss Thompson entered the room and threw open the drapes, calling a cheery 'good morning', and went to run them a bath each. While they bathed she would set out clothes for them, until they came to know a maid who would take over those duties.
"Breakfast is set out in the small dining room," she smiled, "you help yourselves from the sideboard, have as little or as much as you want and then we shall see what this fine day holds for you, eh?"
Janey stretched and yawned, and nudged her sister.
"Where's father?" she asked as she slipped from under the covers and headed into the adjoining bathroom – indoor plumbing was still a novelty.
"I believe he is breakfasting and then going for a walk around the estate with the gamekeeper," Miss Thompson called through, "come on, Miss Phryne," she nudged the dark-haired sister, "up we get."
"Urgh," Phryne groaned, "must I?"
Miss Thompson laughed, "Anyone would think you have been out partying all night, Miss, now," she pulled back the covers, "your bath is drawn and I shall put out your clothes for the day. Mrs Worthy will introduce you to your maid today."
The bed was so comfortable, such a difference from their home in Collingwood, better than the ones on the ship and they were lovely, and as good as the ones in the hotel they had stayed in in London. Everything was still so new and to be savoured, and that included bed. However, she rolled over and out of bed and staggered to the bathroom.
"Hey!" Janey laughed, "you use the other one, I'm already in the bath."
Phryne grinned, not only did they have indoor plumbing they had their pick of bathrooms, life was good. The only thing missing was their mother waking them up each morning.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Days blended into weeks; Phryne went over the household accounts and the daily running of the house with Mrs Worthy. She asked if the meals could be simpler for just the family, and only two courses at dinner unless they were entertaining, for entertain they would have to. Word got around that the Manor was occupied again, and invitations to afternoon teas and dinners started to arrive which they would have to respond to and reciprocate and it worried Phryne.
"Miss Thompson," she turned to her governess and friend, "how do we do this? Without our mother, tea with just father seems odd, dinners may be easier with him at the head of the table, but …" she was just a child, dragged to adulthood far too soon.
"Have you asked Mrs Worthy what she knows of these families, Miss Phryne," Miss Thompson sat her down in the parlour, "the news has got round that there is a new Baron of Richmond, and I bet the news also is that he has no wife …"
"He has a wife!" Phryne cried and jumped up, "she just couldn't come with us!"
"Alright, Miss Phryne," she took her hand, noticing the tears, this wasn't fair on the child, "I know, your mother was unable to travel, but the ladies will not know of that, or think of it … a single man is a challenge, a target for other single ladies or mothers who have daughters they are trying to marry off."
"Father is not in the market for a wife!" the child stamped her foot angrily.
"Then we shall let it be known that your mother is not well enough to travel …"
Phryne flopped down into the chair again, "I suppose so. I wrote to Aunt Prudence last week, maybe she'll have news …"
"Let's hope so, dear," Miss Thompson pulled her close, she was becoming motherly to her two charges and she had learnt that both girls liked to hug.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Mrs Stanley had no news that was good for her two nieces, too far away for her to comfort. She had pestered the local police force who had finally set a young constable on the case, when he wasn't carrying out his normal duties. Constable Robinson knew enough about Mrs Prudence Stanley from his mother to be diligent in his search for her sister. He knew Phryne and Janey from their visits with Margaret Fisher to pay Henry's fines, two sweet girls that should be with their mother and not thousands of miles away with a drunken father who was known to beat them. He hoped they were safe and even had the nerve to ask after them when Mrs Stanley called for her weekly update.
"Kind of you to ask, Constable," she hummed, "from Phryne's letter she is well and they have a kind governess looking after them."
"That's good," he nodded, "as to the case of your sister, Mrs Stanley, we are looking into other abductions of similar ladies over the past months."
"Similar ladies, Constable?" she raised an eyebrow, "in what way?"
"In the way of age and looks, Madam," he assured her, "all dark haired, all around the same age as Mrs Fisher, sorry, Baroness Fisher," he must remember that alive or dead, Margaret was The Baroness Fisher, "and all of similar financial insecurity."
"How many, Constable?"
"Up to now we think four," he rested his hand on the files at the end of the desk. "We have little to go on, I'm afraid, it's quite the puzzle."
"Well, young man," she stood up, "I trust you will continue to investigate …"
"Oh, I will, Mrs Stanley, I will do my utmost to find all these ladies and return them to the bosoms of their families."
Prudence thought he would go far, hopefully further than the waste of space his superior, Detective Inspector George Sanderson, would.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Prudence was as kind as she could be when she wrote back to Phryne and Janey. She told them of Constable Robinson's search for four ladies that disappeared in much the same way as their mother, and that he would continue to investigate for as long as it took.
Phryne smiled, she remembered the Constable, she remembered teasing him and getting him to reveal his Christian name, Jack, she even knew he was only six years older than her, and he was sweet, giving her and Janey a biscuit out of the tin his mother kept filled. Her oatie biscuits were delicious, sometimes with a hint of coconut. However, she had no illusions it would be easy to find her mother, or if he ever could.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Phryne managed to navigate her way through social occasions such as afternoon tea with local and not quite local ladies. She was always sure to mention her mother and that she was currently unable to travel due to being unwell, but she was sure nobody took any notice.
By her birthday they were firmly settled in the house. Phryne's birthdays had never been celebrated, barely even mentioned but Miss Thompson and Mrs Worthy cornered the Baron and suggested that they mark it with a celebratory meal, a cake and gifts. He had scratched his head and mumbled that he didn't know what to buy a twelve-year old girl but Miss Thompson had already thought of that and compiled a list of books that Phryne was interested in, and she even went as far as suggesting perhaps her first piece of jewellery, a little locket or necklace.
"Nothing too big, you understand, sir," she smiled, "but it must be something you have chosen."
Henry huffed and puffed but agreed that his elder daughter had been really quite remarkable in the absence of her mother. He hadn't had to raise his voice to her or Janey, but then they mainly came together over dinner, or lunch. He had given her her head in the running of the house, thinking she would fall at the first hurdle and whine and whinge about their new life, but she hadn't, she had proved strong and capable and he hadn't had to do much, which was just how he liked it. In turn Phryne had matured beyond anything Miss Thompson had envisaged. She ran the house, replied to invitations, issued the same, persuaded him that Janey should have a music tutor and managed for fit in her own academic studies – but on that he also had an idea. Phryne needed more than a governess – she needed to go to school. Margaret had often daydreamed, when life was easier in the days shortly after Phryne's birth, that her daughter should go to a proper school, one where she would be taught deportment, social graces … he asked Miss Thompson if there was such an establishment Phryne could attend.
"Thing is," he paced the floor of the private sitting room, "I don't want her to go away for weeks on end, Janey would never stand it …" Miss Thompson knew Janey was his favourite daughter, "… and really …" he scratched his head.
"Perhaps, sir," Miss Thompson thought, "a school nearby, one that she could either go to as a day pupil or just board for the week, come home at weekends?"
"Capital," he agreed, "you couldn't – y'know – er check 'em out, could you? Only Margaret would have done it, her mother … but …"
"I understand, Lord Fisher, and I should be happy to arrange visits, if that is your wish."
"Yes, right, well that seems a good idea, Miss Thompson, make sure they are disciplined, Phryne can be wilful, y'know." He harrumphed and picked up his newspaper – Miss Thompson took it that she was dismissed.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Phryne wasn't too impressed at being sent to a proper school. It was fairly close by that she did only have to board during the week, and that was enough. A lot of the girls looked down on her because she was from 'the colonies' and could swear like a wharfie, which got her into trouble in the first week – her father was not pleased. So displeased, he resorted to the kind of discipline she had not had to endure since they left the house in Collingwood – he struck her, hard, across the cheek which left an angry mark and brought tears to her eyes, tears she refused to shed.
"I knew it was too good to last!" she yelled at him, standing firmly, her hands balled into fists ready to fight back, "I knew it wouldn't be long before you hit me again!"
"Room, now!" he bellowed and shoved her towards the stairs, "you will learn to behave like a young lady!"
She ran up the stairs, two at a time, and he heard the door slam. Pushing his hands into his pockets he headed into the parlour and straight up to the drinks tray. Two or three very large whiskies later he was sitting by the fireside, musing on raising two girls on his own – where the hell had Margaret got to?
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Four months earlier:
Margaret Fisher blinked in the bright light. She remembered storming out of the house telling someone this was his last chance and he either brought home enough to feed them for this week or he could leave, after that it was all nothingness. She seemed to be lying on a bed, with a firm mattress, crisp cotton sheets and a soft pillow. She was warm, though she registered she was wearing perhaps a shift, or a nightdress – a worrying thought that someone had undressed her, she hoped that was all that had happened, but she didn't feel as if anything was wrong 'down there' it had been quite some time since he (whoever 'he' was) had been interested and sober enough to engage in any sexual act with her.
"Ah," a soft, male voice hummed, "you're awake, good."
She blinked again and registered an ordinary face, clean shaven, hair neatly cut, friendly brown eyes. He was dressed in a white shirt, cream waistcoat and matching trousers, not too smart but relaxed and elegant.
"Where …?" she coughed, her throat was dry.
He held her head and put a glass to her lips, the water was cool and refreshing, "Just a little, for now," he whispered, "you are in my home, you are safe and will be well cared for – there is no one to shout at or beat you."
'That makes a change,' was her only thought as she drifted back into slumber.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Time didn't matter, days merged into days, the sun rose and set and she was happy. She had good food, a warm bed, her clothes were shifts and robes, she wasn't pestered by the gentleman and there were others, four, maybe five, sometimes she thought she saw another face, all similarly comfortable. Some did embroidery, some read out loud, some sewed and she had the luxury of a lovely baby grand piano to play. It was almost as if he was surrounding himself with the pleasures of life yet not demanding payment. Even the thought of her girls was a distant memory – a dream that had never happened.
Margaret was happy and knew nothing other than this life.