Thank you for your reviews! Work has again kept me from writing as quickly as I would like, but here is a long chapter. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 9
It is the third night of Jack's vigil and Phryne's mood is dark and stormy. Her restive feeling is punctuated by dark memories. Desperate for catharsis, she pulls the journal to her and opens to a fresh page allowing her thoughts to fall onto the paper.
Life in Collingwood was not only difficult from the standpoint of having enough food or being warm or having to wear second hand flannels and shoes much of the time. There was a darker element to be concerned about – men and boys with no regular job who were up to no good. I learned the hard way that you could never trust males – I couldn't trust my father and I definitely couldn't trust others. Rene Dubois only reiterated that lesson. It is a wonder that I ever let you in for more than a dalliance-probably a good thing you don't believe in them – all part of that Jack Robinson the man who always does the right thing. How you breached my defenses may remain a mystery to me forever.
My first recollection of the perfidy of men outside of my father happened when I was eleven and Janey was seven. We were going to the market. I had come by a few coins which I wanted to use to get Janey a piece or two of fruit. We were playing hide and seek along the way – one of us would slip into a shop doorway or an alley and then wait for the other.
As I was coming to find Janey in the next alleyway, I heard her crying. I raced in to find her being held by a couple of boys and more were advancing on her. I yelled at them to let her go and ran in to attack them. Flailing arms, kicking legs and further elements of a Tasmanian devil caused them to let go of Janey. "Run," I ordered her attempting to get away with her, but the boys were fast so I slowed and let them have me so she could get away.
The punching and kicking were minor compared to being held down and touched inappropriately. I still can hardly think of the violation that day and the feeling of impotent helplessness and the anger and fear that surrounded it. I fought as hard as I could and managed to kick a couple of them in the face and other body parts to the point none of them wanted to try to get closer than they already had. They left me bruised and bleeding, running when they heard a police whistle. I was physically ok, but emotionally ravaged. I hated feeling I no control.
Thank God Janey was spared that trauma. It would have broken her spirit – she really was a gentle soul. She ran all the way home as I told her to do. I never told her what happened in that alley other than what was obviously a beating. To add further insult to injury, my father locked me in the cupboard for fighting when he saw the state of me and that Janey had bruises as well. My mother's disappointed gaze was almost more than I could handle. I nearly broke down and told them what really happened, but I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. And how could I be sure my father wouldn't blame me? Better to keep that locked inside. There were some silent tears in the cupboard that day, but also a vow never to allow myself to be controlled by men, and a vow to become stronger and faster.
After what in my mind became "The Incident", I was more protective of Janey than ever before. I also made it my mission to become strong physically – to learn how to protect myself. As you may be aware, Inspector, I can be quite persuasive when I set my mind to something, and I was able to get some of the boxers to show me a thing or two about self-defense. I learned enough to keep Janey safe from the local bullies when she was with me, and then I honed my skills later in England under the tutelage of an excellent martial arts instructor once I got away from Rene. He wasn't exactly a tutor, as I didn't pay him, but…I digress. No Jack he was not a lover, just a friend. I was too distressed at that stage for any kind of relationship. Once I was better prepared to protect myself, I could think about beautiful men again…it didn't take too long.
She stops writing, the need to let poison out gone with the scratch of the pen and the memory of the young man who taught her martial arts. Those lessons have come in handy many times over the years, she thinks, as have her physical strength and flexibility. Phryne sighs heavily, her fingers stroking over the black words on the pale page automatically stretching her legs.
"Janey, I failed you so many times," Phryne whispers sorrowfully, thinking only of her failures as a sister. As she becomes lost again in her memories, the journal and pen fall to the floor and she slips into a restless sleep punctuated by dreams of being confined in the dark cupboard and of not getting to Janey in time to save her and always Murdoch Foyle's voice coming to get her. She wakes, drenched in sweat and needing Dot to help her back into some semblance of sanity.
Dot quickly changes the sweat-soaked sheets while Phryne is in the bathroom. Once she has Phryne back in the bed she suggests something to eat or drink. "Let me fix some cocoa, Miss Phryne," Dot's soothing voice calms the fear still lingering in Phryne's eyes.
"That sounds like just the ticket Dot. And Dot, open the window for a bit, it sounds like rain is coming and the breeze might be pleasant for a bit."
"Yes, Miss," Dot's cheerful reply comes as she moves to open the window. There is indeed a breeze, scented with impending rain and Wisteria, and it fills the bedroom bringing freshness to the heavy air. Dot goes to fetch the cocoa and upon returning sees that Jane is awake as well and is in the bed with Phryne.
"I'll get you a cuppa as well Jane," amusement evident in Dot's voice as she hands Phryne the cup of warm chocolate.
The three women enjoy their cocoa mostly in silence as the wind softly sweeps through the room, the sound of thunder in the distance punctuated by occasional flashes of lightning and then finally the patter of raindrops.
Dot rises to close the window against the rain and then takes the cups starting to shake Jane who has dozed off next to Phryne when Phryne says, "Leave her Dot. If she wakes she can return to her room. We don't have opportunities often these days for her to be a little girl for a few moments." Secretly glad Jane will be with her; Phryne settles onto her left side and gives Dot a grateful smile, "Thank you Dot. You always know just what will soothe me."
Dot smiles sweetly nodding her understanding and turning off the light she slips quietly from the room, ready for her own bed, the cocoa having spread pleasantly through her limbs creating a drowsy feeling added to by the pitter patter of the rain on the roof.
The following morning dawns bright with a soft blue sky and Phryne can see just a sliver of it through the curtains. The nightmares of the previous evening are washed away as well and Phryne is ready for the new day.
Today she will have the new telephone installed in her room. She is looking forward to having the instrument close. Her sense of isolation lessons a bit as she thinks of being able to while away some of the long hours using the telephone. Dr. Wilson is also going to stay to dinner this evening so she will have another distraction on the day.
Jack does not come home and the long night alone in her bed stretches before her. The days Jack is off working the case continue to be long, but the nights are even longer. Phryne is restless and growing a bit more uncomfortable with each passing day and she feels a bit lost without Jack, a fact that only adds to her disquiet. She no longer enjoys sleeping alone. She misses his warmth, the feel of his skin against her, his steady calming heart beat and she misses their lovemaking.
Her fingers and mouth itch to do wicked things to him. Phryne's mouth curves slightly as she plots her attack, warmth pooling low and spreading tantalizingly through her body. As she daydreams about her plans for Jack, her hands skim unconsciously over her body. Phryne allows her thoughts to drift to what she wants Jack to do to her when he finally gets home. Her hands move more deliberately now and she allows her fingers to stroke with just the whisper of a touch until she is moaning softly with need. As she continues daydreaming about Jack, she pleasures herself, her thoughts of Jack's lovemaking providing all of the inspiration she needs to come to a shuddering climax, a release that leaves her hungering even more for Jack's return.