'You don't think you'll carry on working after you become Mrs Hugh Collins, do you?'
His words whirled around her head as she stumbled out to go back home. Home was where Miss Fisher was and yet it was so far from what she could have ever imagined her future to be. She had grown up knowing that she'd either have the option of entering the convent or marrying and settling down and having a horde of children. What else was there to have in life? There were lots of girls who would have given a lot to have a policeman for a fiancé. But she couldn't think of that when she slid the ring off her finger to give back to him. Through her tears she saw his expression turn from disbelief to concern but she had no time to coddle him now, she had a decision to make. She was hurt and disappointed that Hugh hadn't even entertained the idea that she would want to keep working for Miss Fisher. She loved her work. She was earning a better salary than she'd ever thought of and she and her family could live well off it. It was a splendid life, ten times better than working in service or in the factory. Hugh didn't understand that. She was torn between wanting to keep her freedom and getting married. Women of her status couldn't have both. For a minute she wished she was upper class like her employer. Then she could have both.
'Hey now, what's the matter?'
She'd barrelled straight into the comforting tweeds of Dr MacMillan. Dot garbled some teary nonsense and the doctor flourished a handkerchief, pressed it into her hand and guided her to the gate. Home. Dot fumbled for her keys and let them in. Mr Butler sat them down and provided drinks, no questions asked.
'Now tell me what happened.'
Dot hiccupped and sniffled through her recollection and Mac sighed at the folly of men.
'I'm good at my job' she repeated to someone far more sympathetic to her plight.
'Of course you are' soothed Dr Mac. 'When we met you, you were a scared little mouse. Now look at you. You've flourished beyond compare. Other opportunities came knocking. The magazine wanted you. You could have left Hugh behind and gone to work for someone else.'
She wiped away the freely falling tears with the handkerchief. Dot felt wretched.
'I want to be his wife. But not the way he wants me to be. I'm not the girl I used to be anymore.'
'Men. Why do you think I don't bother with them?'
'Well, it's because…you're an invert.'
'Not just that. They're a waste of space most of the time. If your Hugh can't see what he's missing out on then that's his loss.'
'I don't know what I want' Dot repeated. She was still no nearer to finding out.
'Give it some time, give each other some space and clear your head and tackle it from there.'
Mac kissed Dot on the forehead and told her to take it easy. She'd tell Phryne about what had happened. Dot felt even more conflicted. Mac smelled like spring air and hay. She liked it. She liked the feel of Mac's strong hands clasping hers, wiping away her tears. It felt different to Hugh's hands. A different kind of strength. She wanted to cling onto Mac and feel comforted.
She didn't know why she'd thought that.
Anyway, she didn't know what she wanted.