Chapter 15: Peach Tree
Miss Fisher really had intended to look for Jane, but didn't make it further than the terrace before she was caught up to by someone willing to talk to her. Really, she was still recovering from the shock of being welcomed into the Inspector's family. It was surreal. She had expected a lot of reluctance, but what threw her was someone who wanted her to be with Jack. It was quite laughable really. The person she ran into on the terrace didn't seem to hate her much either. It was Wendy Robinson, her future sister-in-law and that recognition threw Miss Fisher for another loop in the roller coaster that this trip turned out to be.
"I think we might be getting bad weather today," the blonde stated, glancing at the grey sky, "I hope it won't damage the harvest."
Phryne hadn't even thought about that factor and felt briefly ashamed for having had to swallow down a nasty comment about Wendy's investigative talents. Indeed, the rather boring clouds from this morning had turned into threatening mountains of purplish-grey.
"Is the lavender at stake?" she asked, before remembering that she really had little idea of agriculture.
"Aunt Esmeralda thinks, it should be quite safe. It is between the harvests right now and unless it turns out to be a severe hailstorm, it shouldn't damage the new blooms. But the orchard and her lettuce are another story," Wendy explained. She smiled, as laughter sounded through the garden.
"Those two don't seem to be bothered by it much, though."
Phryne followed her fond eyes down to the garden, where under the pear trees, Jack was swinging his little niece around in a gesture that was probably meant to be an aeroplane. At least, that's what she gathered from Lizzy's outstretched arms and the strange noises, her fiancèe was making while he spun the girl through the air. Lizzy Robinson was giggling like a maniac. When her uncle finally set her down, her face had turned bright red from lack of breath.
"Again!" she demanded.
"Later," Jack smiled.
"Now! Pleeeeeease."
Phryne could see Jack's heart melting at the big eyes turned towards him. Finally he surrendered under heavy siege.
"They have been firm friends ever since Lizzy was born," Wendy spoke into her thoughts, "I sometimes think, she was really the only thing that made him come back to us back then."
Her words took a moment to register, while Phryne smiled at the touching scene of her lover making a fool of himself to please a five-year old. It was beautiful. Then she realised that she had no idea, what her conversation partner was talking about. She opened her mouth to enquire, when Wendy said something else, that shocked her.
"He would make the most wonderful father."
Phryne swallowed hard, looking back at Jack and Lizzy with a new light on them. She knew, that Jack's sister-in-law meant well. For most women, that notion would have been highly reassuring. But Miss Fisher wasn't most women. And the worst part was that Wendy was completely right: Jack Robinson had been born to swing children through the garden, making weird growling noises like a dying motorcar. Phryne could see it. Her heart shrank in her chest at the sight. Her own words rang in her ears. She had promised to make him the happiest man she could manage, yet, this she couldn't give him. She shook her head slowly, decisively. Then remembered something else.
"Have you seen Jane by chance? She seems to have gone somewhat missing?" she asked her conversation partner, desperate to change the subject and flee the scene.
"I believe she was headed to Aunt Esmeralda's sitting room to listen to the wireless with some of the girls," Wendy informed her, still watching her daughter, who was laughing so hard, that she had started to hiccup. Miss Fisher excused herself in a hurry. She couldn't watch the happy scene any longer.
Still trying to shake the images and thoughts invading her brain, Phryne climbed the stairs to the private rooms of her hostess, when Jane emerged from there, rushing towards her foster mother.
"They broadcast heavy storm warnings, we need to tell Aunt Esmeralda." Miss Fisher didn't have time to process the sudden title change, as the Mistress of the house was currently climbing up the stairs herself, looking even paler than usual.
"That was Audrey van Baskin on the phone. Apparently a storm has just destroyed her friend's crop harvest and it is heading in our direction. I know it is terribly rude, but I will have to go and oversee the peach harvest myself. See what we can save, before the storm hits."
"That's ridiculous!"
Both women stared at Jane for a moment in awe. Aunt Esmeralda cleared her throat.
"I really am terribly sorry, Jane, but-"
"No, I mean it's ridiculous that you have a house full of people and your harvest is going to waste. What is family for, if not to pull together in the time of need?"
Phryne couldn't suppress a proud smile.
"I believe I mentioned that my daughter is a very clever young lady, Mrs. Cox-Stafford."
The woman currently looked half gobsmacked, half touched.
"Indeed, she is."
Suddenly she snapped out of it, taking charge.
"All right, I will try and gather the rest of the family to help, if you could please inform the group up here and we shall meet at the north side in lets say 10 minutes?"
The women agreed and Esmeralda bustled off busily, all at once completely Mistress of the situation. Jane turned on her heel to rejoin the sitting room, but Phryne took her arm and shoved a piece of paper in her hands.
"Ring Mr. Butler. I think we might need his clear head round here and also, I don't want him to be alone over at the villa in a storm."
Jane nodded and retreated downstairs. Miss Fisher straightened her skirt. Time to head into battle.
X
The two women were seated on the edge of the bed in silence.
"Don't you think it is a little exaggerated to expect a promise of life time commitment from me after knowing you for the whole of two days?" Hazel asked miserably.
"I am not," Mac stated calmly, her arms firmly locked over her chest, "I am expecting you to tell me if this is to be a small summer fling, or something to be taken seriously."
Instead of replying, the other woman stared out the window, where the wind threw the branches of a tree against the glass.
"I don't think there is any summer to speak of anymore," she pointed out cheekily and was disappointed, when she didn't even provoke a small smile in her companion. Silence fell, making room for the first signs of the oncoming storm. Mac listened to the blood roaring in her ears. Hazel played with her fingers.
"I never told anyone," she finally admitted.
"Nobody at all?"
The younger woman shook her head.
"I am frightened that it will change what they think about me. How they feel about me."
Mac glanced at the face beside her. She was stunningly beautiful, she realised with a start. The woman was breathtaking from her current perspective. If things were different, Hazel Morgan would have men falling all over her. She probably did still and maybe she even pretended sometimes to care. Mac's heart ached. How hard this thing made it to live and breath every day. It was so unfair. Her anger dissolved into a feeling of deep compassion. So, they had drawn the Black Peter in the card game of life. But maybe it would be easier with a companion by their side. Hesitantly she reached out her fingers, weaving them through Hazel's. The woman looked up, unshed tears glittering in her eyes, but she returned the gesture with a soft pressure.
"You know, the people who matter don't stop caring because you are not the way they thought you are," Mac said quietly, knowing that that was only partly true. Maybe the rest of the world didn't really matter, but it cut you all the same. Her heart was pounding in her ears, as she continued. "I am not expecting you to shout it off the roof tops, Hazel. But you need to tell me."
Hazel didn't answer for a long moment.
"If this is to happen, then I don't want to hide you," she finally whispered, "I want it to be real. I want to bring you home, like Jack has Miss Fisher and I want them to know and to care and be happy."
Mac pressed her hands. They may have been just dreams. But they were beautiful and possibly, someday, they could be reality. They had time.
X
It had been easier than she had expected. Laura had surprised Miss Fisher the most. In something very much resembling gumption she had shoved her half asleep son at her surprised husband, straightened her back and marched to the stairs before Phryne had finished her explanation. Fred had looked after his wife as if lightning had struck him, then a small glimmer appeared in his eyes that Phryne hadn't thought him capable of. So, there was actually a man hidden under the boring suit. Interesting. Then he actually started humming his boy to sleep and Miss Fisher had withdrawn, Olivia Morgan and Iris Walker in tow, before she could be seriously startled. She had shed her company however to look for Mac and Hazel, in the suspicion that she might find them together and therefore, family members were probably not a good inclusion to the scene. She might have also ripped open the door with a little too much enthusiasm, as she heard a small, rusty lock give way. On the bed sat the two women she had expected, holding hands. Hazel flinched, trying to jump to her feet, but Mac grasped her hand firmly and pulled her back down to her side.
"Phryne? To what do we owe the pleasure of you breaking down the door?"
Miss Fisher smiled. So, she had been right. Hazel looked like she wanted to die, but her hand held firmly onto her lovers.
"I wanted to inform you two love birds that there is a storm coming."
The doctor glanced out the window.
"You don't say?"
"I do. We are assembling the family right now to help bring in the fruit harvest, before there is nothing left of it."
Hazel Morgan got to her feet, this time successfully.
"We better go help."
"Of course", her lover sighed.
Reluctantly the doctor let go of the hand struggling free from her. Just dreams. But the glittering in the eyes of her friend told her that there were different people in the world too and that meant there was a chance that the prejudices would be overcome - someday.
X
By the time the trio arrived at the orchard, Mr. Butler was already standing on a ladder, instructed by Esmeralda Cox-Stafford. His ability to magically appear as soon as he was needed obviously didn't abandon him even in Daylesford. Plenty of people had assembled by now, helpful neighbours, farm workers, some servants and of course, plenty of family. Jack was hanging in a tree. His three-piece would probably be ruined by the night, Phryne thought, but his face was flushed and he resembled a country-boy, climbing the magic trees of his childhood. It was utterly charming. Underneath him, Iris and Lizzy were collecting peaches that had missed the basket, a picture that brought several other stabbing emotions back to Phryne's chest. Miss Fisher shook them off. She had no time right now for this. Instead the approached her Inspector.
"Don't fall off the ladder, Jack."
"I'll try my hardest, Miss Fisher."
"I'm serious, Jack, despite what you may have heard, it's not actually that romantic."
He smiled, dropping a peach only slightly past her face, hitting one of the "bruised" baskets squarely.
"I will remember that, Miss Fisher."
She grinned back, then took her orders from Aunt Esmeralda. She ended up accepting apples from the hands of Walter, sorting them into boxes according to the stage of their ripening process. Wind juggled the branches by now and more than once, she was actually worried about the man falling of his steep ladder. But he stayed stubbornly put, chattering and joking along and Miss Fisher found to her surprise, that she was actually enjoying herself. She had only briefly time to check for the rest of her family. Jane was hanging in the branches of a plum tree like a monkey, dropping ripe fruit into Mac's caring hands, while Hazel picked off the lower branches. Her daughter's dress would suffer somewhat to be sure, but Miss Fisher couldn't have cared any less if she tried. She couldn't help the glow on her cheeks spreading into her core. Mac actually appeared happy and she still couldn't believe how much she had missed Jane. Dot was nowhere to be seen and she was starting to get a little worried, when Uncle Walter picked up on her straying eyes.
"Where are you off to then?" he asked, smiling. Phryne looked up into his kind eyes, realising that he had been holding out a couple of apples to her for a while. Hurriedly she took them.
"I was just wondering, where Dot has gotten to."
"Oh, I believe, she's in the vegetable garden with Olivia, fighting the snails for the lettuce," he laughed to her relief. "But I am actually most surprised about her."
Phryne followed the gesture of his chin towards a peach tree, where Prudence Stanley had actually climbed a ladder, looking slightly appalled by the lesser work but nevertheless picking fruit with the stamina of a woman who was as stubborn as she was rich, while arguing with a harvest worker, who didn't agree with her technique. Miss Fisher couldn't help but grin at the sight.
"She is a woman of many surprises."
"Runs in the family then."
A grey brow was arched at her, when Phryne's eyes sought out Walter's.
"I never had a Baroness picking apples with me before," he grinned, returning to his work.
"You still haven't. I am merely Honourable on bad days," she set him straight. "The remainder of the time, I try to be as dishonourable as possible," she winked cheekily.
The resulting laughter did nearly throw the Master of the House off his ladder.
X
Samuel Cox-Stafford was wandering the halls of his childhood home alone. He was wondering. He had retreated with one of his law books into the library some time ago and after he had woken from the nap this utterly sleep-inducing material had provoked, nobody was to be found anymore. He felt like one of the victims in one of the crime stories he had devoured as a child. He stubbornly refused to call out for anyone and instead marched up to a random door, when a big hand grabbed him with the strength of a vice. He found himself being pushed against a wall, much like Doctor MacMillan earlier and in actually the same hallway, but with much less pleasurable results. The man hovering in front of his face was almost white and sweating heavily.
"Where is it?" he spat, "I've searched everywhere, and it's not there!"
"What are you talking about, man?!" Samuel exclaimed, once he had gotten over the first shock, trying to straighten, which turned out to be a rather complicated task with Charles Crossley not two inches away from him.
"You know what I am talking about! Where did she hide it?"
The angry face came even closer, if it was at all possible. The young student swallowed hard.
"How would I know?" he whispered.
Charles Crossley was about to raise his fist, when he heard a door open. Turning, he saw Fred stand in the door, looking at him sternly. The small boy in his arms was sound asleep.
"I think that is enough, Crossley," he said firmly. The man retreated. Samuel pushed himself away from the wall, straightening his collar.
"Thank you, but that was unnecessary," he said to his brother-in-law. Fred Simmens-Cox-Stafford shrugged and went on to put his son to bed.
X
By the time the last peach had found it's place in the sheds and the last apple had been moved to the cellar, thunder was growling. Jack climbed from his ladder with sweat pouring down his face, but a satisfying sense of achievement. Spinning on his heels, he looked for a familiar face. His father was currently busy accepting with a grumpy expression a basket from Lizzy. Jack hadn't even noticed him helping, but found himself somewhat relieved that he was. The person he was looking for however, was nowhere to be seen.
"Vegetable garden, love," Esmeralda explained, rushing past him with a box that smelled suspiciously like lemons.
"Right," Jack Robinson murmured to himself. It was that easy then. They had been looked through and met with approval. A small smile spread over his lips, as he made his way to the vegetable garden, where an unusual picture greeted him. While Wendy and Olivia were busily shoving lettuce into boxes near the fence, Miss Fisher was crouching in the dirt, gently peeling ripe tomatoes off their plants.
He was about to say something, when lightning tore the sky in half. An angry wind roared around them, making their clothes flutter.
"I think we better get inside, Phryne," he almost yelled, "no use in the tomatoes surviving and you getting struck by lightning."
"I'm almost done", she said, quietly, calmly, taking more ripe fruit and adding it to her box. She looked up briefly when he crouched down opposite her and joined in the picking. There was just no point in trying to talk sense into Phryne Fisher. She wasn't scared of danger. Sometimes he wanted to strangle her for that. But when he looked up, there was a smear of dirt across her cheek and he couldn't help but reach out and gently wipe it from her face. Her cheeks were flushed as a resultof the hard work and a black lock of hair was stuck to her forehead. She was beautiful and his heart beat faster as his unseeing hands kept picking. Soon there were no tomatoes left. But instead of heading inside, she shoved the box into his hands.
"I will be in in a second," she yelled against the thunder. First raindrops left small craters in the dirt. The Inspector watched on in astonishment, as she pulled up the hem of her skirt and fished her knife out of her garter. The other ladies had retreated with their harvest, only he was standing in the vegetable garden like an idiot, unable to resist feeling torn between logic that told him that he should grab his lover and make for the house and a part of his brain that had entirely other ideas at the sight of her white thigh. To his astonishment, she started to cut off a bunch of sunflowers that curiously peaked over the white fence, shaking in the wind.
"It would be a shame if they were lost," she stated, as if it was normal to risk her life for flowers. The drops grew heavier now, adding wetness to the already sweat-soaked back of the Inspector.
"Phryne!" he urged, but she finally seemed happy with the result and with an armful of glowing yellow flowers, she rushed past him.
"Come on then, Inspector. Didn't your mother teach you to not be outside in a thunderstorm?"
The Inspector turned, chasing after her, while lightning dipped the world into blinding brightness. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, when they reached the house. Seconds later the clouds broke open to pour down a shower of water. Panting he stood on the veranda, staring into the curtain of falling rain, her heavy breathing beside him, the smell of sunflowers and fresh tomatoes mixing with Phryne Fisher's perfume. Life was wonderful!