Chapter 19: Bitter Almond

Behind one of the many doors, Jack Robinson and Phryne Fisher had crawled under the covers of their guest bed, intending to leave the world outside for a little while. They hadn't bothered with the lights and instead just lay in the darkness, the rain drumming an ever steady rhythm against the window, their limbs wrapped lazily together in the sort of mosaic that is reserved for familiar lovers, who had time to grow accustomed to sharp elbows and misplaced knees and found ways to avoid them without giving up on a centimeter of skin. Phryne's cold feet were currently wedged between the Inspector's legs, a motion that he sometimes protested, but didn't have the heart to, today. He had been right. Being with his lover had settled his thoughts. His head felt heavy and warm now and he had to fight the urge to just drift off to sleep.

"Jack?"

He murmured an answer without opening his eyes.

"Did you ever consider shooting yourself?"

His lashes flew open to find her watching him with intense eyes, dark in the dim light. He cleared his throat.

"Where did that come from?"

"I talked with Iris," Phryne stated, as if that would explain everything. Jack racked his brain to find a situation, where his cousin could have picked up any suicidal tendencies from him. He came up blank.

"It's a rather straight forward question, Jack," Miss Fisher prompted, when she didn't get an answer. The Inspector looked at her, wondering if he could get away with a lie. What was the point in worrying her about things long past?

"Once or twice," he heard himself admit quietly.

"Right," Phryne said, closing her eyes. Her only other response was that her arm seemed to curl around him a tiny bit tighter. Jack found himself confused. What had been the point to this question, if she didn't want to know the details. Her hair tickled on his naked chest as she snuggled into him.

"You aren't going to interrogate me further, Miss Fisher?" he asked, stroking her head gently.

"No," she mumbled, somewhere in his chest. "You will tell me when you want to."

He smiled to himself, letting his own lids flutter shut. In the darkness behind his lashes he lay still, listening to the numbing sound of the rain and her steady breathing. Against all better intentions, they drifted off to sleep.

X

Esmeralda stared with worry at the empty seats around her dinner table, which were numerous at this point in time. Walter grabbed her hand and pressed it gently.

"They will come," he whispered, only loud enough to hear, "you just wait and see."

Esmeralda shot him a fake smile while watching Hazel and Doctor MacMillan walking through the door. Her niece was laughing. It was nice to see her happy for once. Somehow Esmeralda always got a melancholic vibe from the girl, despite her big mouth. As if she hadn't found her place in the world. Right now she looked utterly relaxed and Esmeralda couldn't help but feel grateful, that she had struck a friendship that brought her out of her cynical shell for once. And the doctor seemed nice enough.

"I apologise for being late, Mrs. Cox-Stafford. I seem to have gotten lost a little in your corridors. Your niece had to rescue me from a terrible fate," Mac quipped, hinting a bow, before casually pulling out the chair for Hazel. Esmeralda smiled. This time it was genuine. Mac didn't explain that really she had run late trying to follow the mystery man down the corridors after she had gotten over her first confusion, in a twisted game of hide and seek. She had lost him somewhere near the servant entrance and truthfully, her devotion to Phryne's detective work hadn't gone far enough to follow the dark man out into the still raging storm. The stamina of this particular spell of weather was rather astounding. As if it had decided to pay all it's attention to this particular country-estate, expressing the tensions between it's occupants in its natural power. But then, Mac didn't believe in nonsense like that. Stormy nights as backdrop for secretive behaviour belonged into crime-novels. She sat down, returning her attention to Hazel, who had in fact rescued her from the basements with it's countless doors that didn't lead anywhere much but to cleaning equipment.

It was just as well that she did, as the lady of the house had returned to staring impatiently at the doorway and her watch in turn. She had sent up Jane with some tea what must have been two hours ago. Esmeralda Cox-Stafford had also known John Robinson for a long time and she sensed that he was impressed with the girl. Intelligence was something that he appreciated in his conversation partners and paired with Jane's charm, she harboured the hope that the girl would be able to wiggle herself into John's crusty, old heart, despite all his efforts to defy her. Yet, their places were still empty. So were Jack and Miss Fisher's.

As she thought this, Iris and Will wandered through the door, chatting animatedly while they sat down between their spouses. It was an unusual picture, they didn't really seem to talk a lot and Esmeralda couldn't stop herself from eavesdropping briefly. The subject of their conversation was Jack. There had obviously some things taken place under her roof of which she was unaware. As long as it brought people closer together, the lady of the house didn't mind this at all, but the stubbornly empty chairs worried her.

Laura also seemed to grow impatient for her still missing husband. She too looked quite lost, with her little son asleep in a bed somewhere, as if she had forgotten how to behave when she was not a mother. Esmeralda's heart went out to her daughter. She knew that Laura wasn't happy with the life she lead, yet she couldn't seem to point her into the right direction. It was her own failure, Esmeralda concluded. She hadn't taught her daughter to demand what she wanted and picking Fred felt like the ultimate defeat. As if she had surrendered to not deserving anything but a boring marriage with a boring man. Fred wasn't a bad husband, far from it. He loved her daughter, Esmeralda knew and he did his hardest to fulfill her every desire. It was the desires, Laura lacked. She'd given up wanting things in the self-fulfilling prophecy, that she wouldn't get them. Some days, her mother just wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her.

Mrs. Cox-Stafford's attention was drawn back to the door by the arrival of Jane. The girl was on her own and her heart sank, when she watch her spin, laughingly calling to someone coming down the corridor.

"I am coming and don't you dare calling me an old man again, young lady," John huffed, stepping through the door.

"Well, you are dangerously close to being my gramps. Or grumps rather," the girl quipped, while Esmeralda dropped into her chair as if the weight of the world had fallen off her shoulders. Walter shot her a 'I told you so' look, that he had perfected in their first years of marriage, a very long time ago.

"And you are dangerously close to a spanking, young lady," John scolded, with no sincerity at all. He greeted the rest of the table with a brief word, obviously content to just ignore his earlier outburst and found his place across from the still empty chairs of Jack and his fiancée.

While Fred slipped through the door, noticed by nobody but Olivia, the former policeman made a show of looking at his watch.

"Well, it seems my son and his Miss Fisher have forgotten the time."

Only people who knew him very well could have seen the anxiety hidden in his shoulders. Unfortunately there were quite a few of those sitting at this very table.

"That seems to run in the family. But I have just sent a maid upstairs to fetch them," Walter explained. "I am getting rather hungry myself."

"Maybe we should start without them," Esmeralda concluded. "I have not cooked myself tonight, but I hear there is a lovely lamb roast waiting in the kitchen." An appreciative murmur rose around the table, mostly in anticipation of a dinner not prepared by Aunt Esmeralda. The new maid slipped in and whispered something to the Master of the house, who frowned. Curious faces turned to him when he cleared his throat.

"It seems, Jack and Miss Fisher aren't answering their door. We might have to eat without them."

Walter tried his hardest to ignore the unhappy features of his wife, who had trouble holding on to her composure. He knew that she had so hoped for things to resolve themselves and to everybody's surprise, John had come around. And now Jack was sulking in his room. He had really thought Miss Fisher had a better influence on the boy.

"Maybe they aren't in?" Jane tried, who obviously was also disappointed. "They often wander off for some investigation or other."

"It seems they have locked themselves in," Walter pointed out, aware that he was dashing hopes. There was more silence, while people busied themselves with glasses and cutlery, trying to not look at each other.

"Oh, this is just ridiculously childish."

John threw down his serviette, deep, angry creases across his forehead. Before anyone could stop him, he was already out the door. Uncomfortable silence settled over the group. After a long moment, Olivia got up and followed her brother-in-law to calm him.

"I better look after Phryne," Prudence Stanley said. "She might be wandering off a lot but pouting in her room does not seem like my niece at all."

"I'll join you," Mac decided, with a look to Hazel, who nodded. "Something might have happened," she added, thinking of the dark man in the shadows.

"Well, if you think that, girl, we better all come," Walter concluded, "we did have a murder in the house recently."

"You don't actually think...?" The voice belonged to Iris, who had paled, while slipping to her feet.

"We had better go and find out if they are all right. Probably there is a perfectly sensible explanation."

Esmeralda shuddered at the idea, that her nephew might have been killed and laid a hand on her husband's arm. The dining room emptied, as people trod up the stairs in groups. When a maid brought the lamb roast a minute later, she found only a desolate table and the candles burning.

X

John Robinson was already rapping loudly at his son's guest room door by the time Olivia caught up to him.

"Jack!" he yelled, when there was no reply. "Stop acting like you are five!"

Olivia put a soothing hand to his shoulder, but it didn't stop John from raising his fist again, belting the door. Movement was to be heard from the room, quiet whisper. A few seconds later, the key turned in the lock, revealing a blurry-eyed Jack clad in nothing but a pair of Pyjama pants, about three sizes too big on him.

"What's going on, father?" he asked, supressing a yawn. At the same time, the rest of the cavalry arrived.

"What's going on? You have been missed at dinner! We were worried!" John all but yelled at his sleepy son.

"We fell asleep."

"We?" John parroted, as Miss Fisher stepped out of the shadows behind her fiancée, donning a hideously frilly night dress, a loan from the lady of the house. John's mouth fell open.

"They are staying in the same room? Under your roof?!" he exclaimed towards Walter, who had pushed in front of the quiet family.

"They are getting married, John," Walter pointed out calmly. Mr. Robinson searched the faces around him for support, but nobody seemed to really find the situation as offensive as himself.

"They are not married yet!" he said coldly, turning to his son, who was taking up the doorway as if trying to shield Phryne from the wrath of his father. But she wasn't having any of it, and pushed beside him, grabbing his hand.

"What is it to you, Mr. Robinson?" she asked calmly, realising that it was the first time, she addressed him. Adrenaline was chasing through her veins, as if she had been confronting a killer. To be fair, there was a murderous twinkle in John's eyes.

"I do not know what life you lead, Miss Fisher," he spat. "But my son is from a proper family. His mother raised him into a decent young man. And I will not allow him to be corrupted by some floozy, titled or not!"

Breathless silence spread around the room. Phryne looked like she had been slapped, an angry thunderstorm was brewing over Jack's head, and Iris and Mac were both about to unleash their wrath onto John Robinson, but someone else was faster.

"I will not have you speak about my niece this way!"

Prudence Stanley pushed forward, pulling herself to her full height of a very small woman with a very big personality. John looked at her confused. He had not actually noticed her before. When Mrs. Stanley spoke again, her voice vibrated in anger.

"Phryne may be a little wild, but she is also a very decent woman, who has been nothing but kind to your son, since the day they met. Your son would not be alive if it wasn't for my niece! So, if you want to judge someone, why don't you start in your own family."

Her eyes locked with Mac, then swept over to Hazel. Phryne begged silently for her not to say it. As much as she was proud of her aunt right now, this was not the way to do it.

"Your nephew is a cad. He tried to touch me inappropriately this afternoon", she finally spat, causing Samuel to turn bright red. Mac let the breath go, she had been holding. She had been scared for a moment that Aunt P had discovered her relationship with Hazel. Then she caught the eye of the old lady that held a certain twinkle and realised, that she had. Gratefulness flooded her veins.

"So I am supposed to overlook this, just because Miss Fisher has disarmed some gun man along the line and Samuel is being a spoilt brat?" John asked.

Jack found his voice again, letting go of Phryne's hand and stepping right into his father's face.

"There will be no need to overlook anything. Because, I am done, father! I have given you plenty of liberty over the last ten years. You had a chance to lecture me about anything under the sun you chose to. But tonight you have gone too far. I am done with you! Please don't bother to speak to me ever again!"

The door was flung shut into John's face, before he had a chance to answer. Seconds later a key turned. Nobody said a word. Lightning stroke for dramatic effect and was disappointed, when nobody paid attention to it. John turned, the angry red having turned from an angry red to chalk white. He swayed gently, like a leaf in a breeze.

"Father, are you alright?" Will tried to grab John's arm in a steadying gesture, but was brushed off.

"Leave me," John mumbled. The crowd parted to let him past. His head held high, he walked through his family and waited, till he had reached the safety of his guest room, before he leaned against the door and wiped the tears from his eyes, swearing loudly.

X

In a dark corner of the hallway, unknown to any of the collected family, stood Mr. Butler. It hadn't been his intention to eavesdrop. He had heard a rumour though, that his Mistress was in trouble and he had come to find out from her, if he needed to be worried. Had he known that this merely was about a missed dinner, he could have dissolved the situation easily. Miss Fisher and her Inspector missed plenty of dinners. They usually were distracted either by a murderer or by each other, sometimes both. But what he had heard, disturbed him more than the proximity of danger could have. His own parents had passed a long time ago, but the notion of losing them was still indelibly etched in his mind. He wished none of this on Inspector Robinson. Watching the family retreat back downstairs, Tobias Butler wondered if he should enquire after his Master's well being, but he knew that Miss Fisher was with him. She would find the right words, better than any he could summon. He was only a butler, after all. Sad and defeated, he walked back down the stairs, when a hand snuck around his arm.

"Are you alright, Mr. Butler?" Dorothy asked, who had lingered for a little while longer in front of her Mistress's room, probably pondering the same thing as he.

"Perfectly fine, Dorothy," he lied. "How are you doing, so far away from your home?"

She smiled.

"I feel better since the phone call this morning. Hugh misses me."

"That is lovely," Mr. Butler smiled, "He also is not on his way to India, which makes it even more lovely."

"Pardon me?"

"Oh, nothing, Dorothy. You had better get back in, they seem to have started dinner."

"How they can eat right now, is beyond me," Dot stated miserably.

"They are a big family. They probably see a lot of arguments and they know, that people who love each other usually work it out," the butler smiled. She still looked so upset, that he took a liberty and kissed the girl on the head. She rewarded his affection with a small smile. Watching on as she stepped into the dining room, he wondered if he could really give all of this up. Then he sighed and returned to his place in the kitchen.