Phryne read the note Mac had left and shook her head. Dot had been subdued all evening and her eyes were red and puffy. She'd bathed her face in chamomile water but still felt down. She needed to focus on something else so she hauled out her mending basket and sorted out stockings, barely listening to the radio. Miss Fisher was a terror on stockings, she tore a pair every week. Luckily Dot was a dab hand at darning. She could do it in her sleep. Even so, her mind kept casting back to what future she thought she'd have with Hugh and she didn't know what was worth compromising. Before she'd met Miss Fisher she wouldn't have known better and maybe she would have ended up not questioning a husband of questionable morals. But Dot knew even then she wouldn't have accepted that. She knew what she was worth. She'd rather work in a factory than settle for less in a man. Cursing Hugh for being stubbornly old fashioned, she wondered when it was that she'd changed. They were supposed to match. He'd always liked that she was old fashioned. Next to Miss Fisher, she was. But compared to Hugh, she felt like a modern woman now. Would he be able to keep up with her?

'Dot dear, why don't you have an early night?' Suggested Phryne.

'I do have a bit of a headache' Dot admitted.

'I have dinner plans but do you want me to see if Mac can prescribe you something?'

Dot nodded and abandoned her sewing. She went up to have a bath with the chestnut blossom salts that Phryne had generously given her and changed into her nightie. Unpinned her hair. It fell loose over one shoulder, a silken blaze in conker brown. Phryne suggested that she cut it to be a' la mode but Dot wouldn't hear of it. While she was not afflicted with the sin of vanity, her hair really was her best feature. Hugh agreed. It made her sad that she'd dreamed of him rustling his hands through her hair. She wanted someone to do that someday. Someone she could trust.

She heard a knock on the door. She bade them to come in and to her surprise, it was the doctor.

'I'm got some headache powders for you.'

Dot stammered her thanks as Mac swirled them round in a glass of water.

'I have the evening off so I can sit with you for a bit. Brought a book. Don't fret too much, just empty your mind and doze off. Easier said than done, I know.'

Mac was rarely attracted to the angelic look but Dot was harder to resist than usual. Her hair was lovely. Anyone would want to run their hands through it. Dot came over to drink it and be tucked into bed with touching trust. Mac's roughened hands smoothed the duvet over her, in a fetching burnt orange shade. Dot's room was like stepping into autumn. Mac liked it. It was comfortable.

Dot's gaze was fixed on her hair. It was a wild henna shade, suitable for the surroundings.

'Do you let your hair out when you sleep, doctor?'

'Of course.' She patted it cheerfully. 'Can't sleep on this rug all night long.'

'It's lovely.'

Dot meant it.

Mac settled herself into the chair and took out her book. Dot surmised it was a tome of a risqué nature and did not enquire. As she drifted off, she felt warm and fuzzy. Her dreams took on a blurred style, shapes meandering this way and that, no real substance, just pleasant swirls and dots.

She couldn't pinpoint when it changed. If Dot was a betting woman she would have bet on the witching hour. There was a red rose. With a black beetle in it. Every time Dot approached the rose, it spat out the beetle and she retreated, only to repeat the same thing over and over again. She woke up in a cold sweat. Familiar hands soothed her forehead and she opened her eyes to see her protector. She was flooded with relief. She sat up and explained her dream.

'Well I'm not expert on dreams.'

Dot waited expectantly.

'Really. I know nothing about dreams or what they are supposed to mean. I deal with the body and science. But it doesn't take a genius to work out that your mind is unsettled.'

'Would you stay with me a bit longer?'

'Of course.'

Dot reached over to the other side and pulled the duvet over, a signal to get in.

'It can't be good for you, sitting in the chair the whole night.'

Mac hesitated and then started to take off her shoes. The chair was a bit rough on her back, truth be told. She took off her cravat and made her way to the other side of the bed. It was a snug fit.

'Why don't you take down your hair?' Dot suggested.

Mac obediently got out of bed and sat down at the dresser. She felt a little self-conscious. The lady in question was waiting for her in bed, in a fresh cotton nightgown. Nothing more charming than that. Mac found Dot charming of course but this was unknown territory. She had no intention of poaching anyone from their intended. Maybe she was reading too much into it. It was just an innocent invitation. She swiftly unpinned and uncoiled and before long her shoulders were swathed in a way that few people got to see.

Dot gasped. She hadn't imagined Mac's hair to be so long. Mac heard it and chuckled.

'My only vanity' she said to Dot's reflection. 'I give it a touch up with a trim and some henna but otherwise it's natural.'

'It's beautiful, doctor.'

'You can call me Mac. No need to be formal.'

'Oh I couldn't do that' said Dot, in the same tone as she wouldn't ever call Phryne without her title.

'All right. Call me Elizabeth.'

Dot considered it. Cautiously nodded. Mac slipped back into bed. Half an hour later, still amidst the witching hour, they lay comfortably spooned. Both had given up the pretence of innocence, Dot had already confessed that she had asked Mac to unpin her hair so she could see it and allow herself the fantasy of intimacy. Mac propped her head on her elbow.

'Not just a pretty face are you Dot? You've got a scheming side to you and that's no bad thing. It doesn't do to be so naive. I think it's rather endearing you've considered me in that way. I can't pretend it's not been reciprocated.'

The corresponding blush was endearing.

'Look, as much as I would like to talk a bit more about your sudden curiosity, I'm going to be dead on my feet in a few hours.'

'Of course.'

Dot snuggled back in and felt comforted. She would think about the situation another time.