Phryne and Diana rose to their feet and clapped enthusiastically when the curtain fell. And so did much of the audience, in fact.

The red velvet came up again, revealing the actors on the stage, ready to take their bows. The cast had all been excellent, but the two women intensified their cheer when it was Simon's turn to be singled out. Phryne had been quite impressed by the way he had conveyed Carl's integrity and deep feeling and by how well he had sung and would have been so even if he weren't a friend.

As Diana had warned and the title had stated, the operetta had its lighter moments but it also tapped into deep melancholy if not sadness. Phryne felt a bit floaty, actually. The circumstances weren't that similar, but the fact that in the play Sari was back in London after twenty years away hadn't been lost on her and 'If You Could Only Come Away with Me' and 'I'll See You Again' had hit closer than what she would have wanted from her West End entertainment in this particular context. Besides, it was an operetta. Jack would have hated it and that made it resonate even harder.

«Let's go backstage», said Diana, and they made their way around the burgundy chairs of the Grand Circle. Although slightly to the left, theirs had been surprisingly decent seats, considering the short notice with which they had been procured and how popular the show was, which didn't leave much room for last-minute plans.

Phryne followed her diligently through the labyrinthine hallways of the theatre, undeterred by the leaving audience that cut between them sometimes.

Diana greeted Harold, the usher standing by the backstage door, and he let them in.

It buzzed with that particular post-show energy, as cast and crew basked in a job well done and readied themselves to enjoy the rest of the night.

Diana moved comfortably around, waving at people she knew while Phryne, uncommonly silent, took everything in even if she was hardly a stranger to the behind-the-scenes.

When they reached the dressing rooms, Diana knocked on the door with 'Simon Wallace' written on it and opened it a sliver.

«Are you decent? There's company», she said playfully.

«Rarely, even in those circumstances», said the man inside the room.

Diana opened the door wider and signalled for Phryne to follow her.

«Very funny», Diana said, kissing Simon afterwards and squeezing his arm. Thankfully he had already taken off the shirt with the false blood stains and replaced it by his untainted own. Her rational side knew perfectly well that it was all pretend, but Phryne's retelling of the murders she had investigated and witnessed during the production of Ruddigore and her foray into the film industry made Diana feel uneasy when she was in attendance and his characters died on stage. It felt like a fatal mistake was only a slip or a bad intention away.

«Thank you», he said with a theatrical bow, turning to the second visitor meanwhile.

Simon had dark hair, mischievous sparkling blown eyes and a smile that increased his charm immensely.

«Phryne Fisher, the one and only».

«You surely know how to make someone feel welcome. And I didn't even need to tell you that you were wonderful», Phryne said genuinely. She hadn't known him for as long as some of her friends in England, but she had liked him almost instantly back then and it hadn't abated. «And thank you for the tickets».

«You're welcome. Why is one an actor if they can't get good free seats for their friends?», he laughed. «Thank you for the compliment. I'm glad to know you liked it».

Phryne nodded, somewhat reluctant to reveal how she had felt moved by it, regardless of the fact that those two other people in the room were much cherished friends.

«I just have to put on my jacket and my coat and we can go», Simon said, quickly picking up the garments from the chair in front of the mirror and starting to get dressed.

xxx

They went on foot, walking among the people coming out of the theatres and making their way home or looking for a last place to convene in before calling it a night, enthralled by the particular Soho.

The air had grown colder and the women huddled in their shawls and coats, the men comfortable in their suits. Excited conversation and laughter echoed above the streets. It smelt of exhaustion pipes but it felt thrilling and made one feel right in the thick of things, a simple yet sublime moment to be remembered forever.

Phryne got swapped up too. After a brief line to fill Simon in about what had brought her to London, conversation had turned into reminiscing of other nights when they had gone from club to club and what they had done over the two years they had last seen each other and that hadn't crawled into the letters Phryne and Diana frequently exchanged. Yet, there was no nostalgia or baggage hovering, just a seemingly never-ending chat.

They boxed themselves into the exiguous and shaky lift (some people said it could accommodate two at the time, the more optimistic vouched for four) and alighted at the entrance of The Gargoyle Club. That journey had always been Phryne's least favourite part, the metal cage weirdly reminding her of the cupboard where her father locked her but it vanished once she focused on who and what she would find upstairs.

They made their way through the coffee room to the impressive steel and brass staircase that would lead them down to the dining and ball rooms. Walking by the large Matisse painting on the wall, its reds and many shapes jumped at them from the corner of the eye nearly like a preparation to the intense décor waiting for them downstairs – as the ceiling with gold-leaf was inspired by Granada's Alhambra, the rest of the room had Moorish lines and, by suggestion of Matisse himself, the walls were covered with irregular-cut pieces of mirror, giving it a dream-like feel as it reflected the light pouring down from the wooden lantern gargoyles over the fountain at the centre and the people occupying the room.

Phryne took a deep breath. Returning to these places also felt like coming home.

« Ah…The Honourable Phryne Fisher», greeted the smartly-dressed man that walked up to them from the midst of the tables. «You are probably the last person I'd expected to see here tonight. Weren't you living in Australia?»

«You are well-informed, I see», she said with a smile. «I hope you didn't let my membership go dormant, David».

«Never. How could I? Do you think I want to run my own club to the ground?», he continued, feigning offence. «Welcome back. It's wonderful to have you here», he said with a smile.

«Thank you».

«Straight out from the theatre?», David said, including the other two people standing nearby in the conversation.

«And right into the arms of The Gargoyle», Simon replied, smiling and taking the hand the other man offered for him to shake.

«I can't say I complain», the host said with a laugh. «Diana, how do you do? Hermione would like to talk to you about some pictures. She's out there somewhere».

«It's wonderful as always, David. I'll be around for the foreseeable hours too so I'm sure we'll meet. I hope Cecil doesn't take offence.».

«He surely won't – your styles are different, after all», David assured her. «Well, I would like to stay and chat for a while longer, but I was on my way towards the kitchen – that's the true glamourous life of a club owner.»

«Go on and save the night», Phryne said. «It's nice meeting you again».

«Likewise», David said with a nod. «So, if you excuse me».

David went away while Phryne, Diana, and Simon stood still, overlooking the room.

«Detective!»

While the band was loud enough, Phryne recognised that voice nevertheless and looked around, trying to parse where it had come from. To the right of the room, from the table by the window, it seemed. There she was. Louisa, standing, taller than everyone around her, signalling that she didn't mean to warn people of a raid, everything was fine.

Phryne smiled widely and waved. Meanwhile, Louisa had reassured her neighbours and waved back. Miss Fisher snaked her way through the crowd, her eyes mostly fixed on her friend, wearing a cobalt blue dress with golden embroidery. It made her short blonde hair and her blue eyes stand out and people take notice. Knowing Louisa, she knew she didn't care.

Maud was still sitting at the table but her brown eyes were focused on Phryne, ready to jump at her encounter as soon as Miss Fisher was close enough. She might be wearing a rust-colour dress but drawing attention to herself wasn't exactly something she had ever been keen on.

Miss Fisher was aware her friends were waiting for them at the club, so she couldn't say she was exactly surprised, but the impending meeting still filled her with unlimited joy. She had known Diana, Louisa, and Maud for nearly 30 years, which seemed like a lot when thought about like this – how many lives fit in 30 years? How many lives had they lived in 30 years? – but it didn't feel heavy at all when they fell into each other's arms. It never did.

For a moment, none of them could articulate a word, their excited laughter showing how happy they were for being together at last.

«May I?», Diana said, throwing her arms around her friends before anyone could answer, not that any reply was actually needed, and the other women welcomed her in their hug.

Phryne couldn't stop smiling and her chest felt like close to exploding. While they wrote to each other frequently, she missed being this close to her friends and it nearly made her cry. (Maud was actually crying and Phryne drew a lock of her dark hair away and wiped a tear with her thumb without saying a word).

They were still holding each other but grew quiet eventually. Amalia's absence was the only blemish to that moment. Phryne, Louisa, Maud, and Diana were still able to have a wonderful time together, yet they could never be completely oblivious to that painfully empty crack in their group and it seemed even more acute when they met again like this after a long time apart. Being even was what had become odd for them.

Phryne touched the silver and carnelian earrings she was wearing. They had been Amalia's, who had simply given them to Diana one afternoon after her friend had complimented them. The memory made her smile. It was true that they looked good with her outfit, but that detail had also been part of her decision. Amalia there with them somehow.

The waiter appeared by the table to inquire about what they would like to drink, his presence bringing them back to the moment.

«Champagne, perhaps? And I better greet these people before I come across as rude», Phryne said with a laugh, the waiter sent on his way to get a bottle.

«Hello, Lydia», Phryne said as they greeted each other with kisses on the cheek. «How is the new job going?»

«There are still some wrinkles but that was expected, with a new job at a new publishing house», she replied, adding a chuckle at the end after a small pause as if to soften her words.

Phryne smiled. «I'm sure everything will fall into place soon».

«Certainly».

Lydia had brown hair cut in a bob, perceptive dark hazel eyes, a non-nonsense attitude and the mention of her name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of most contemporary poets, even if they knew that her remarks were for the own good of their works. It wasn't exactly purposeful and not related to personality, but while they got along well enough Phryne and Lydia would probably never meet for tea or something by themselves and there seemed to always be a certain reserve on each other's part. They could make small talk, even exchange a joke from now and then, but it apparently needed the padding of having people around them. Maybe their dynamic was intrinsically linked to the fact that Lydia was Simon's sister and Maud's partner. Stripped away from that, there didn't seem to exist much to prod them together. Phryne had wondered from now and then if this distance derived from having been away for most of the time Lydia had come into their group but the same happened with Simon and it didn't seem to matter.

In a way, both appeared to have made peace with this. Personally, what mattered to Phryne was if she was contributing to Maud's happiness and that Lydia seemed to be doing. Maud had always preferred to let herself be seen and heard through her work, and while she still did, there was a particular reassurance in the way she moved and held herself. Miss Fisher appreciated and thanked her for that and for having introduced Simon to Diana and didn't wish her ill - that was the extent of their relationship.

«Always a gentleman, but you can sit down, Simon. Your feet are probably killing you», she said patting him on the shoulder, as she walked by him towards the other man at the table.

«May I sit down too? I've been on my feet at the laboratory all day», he said to Phryne with a smile.

«You may, if you want. I'm hardly someone to be ceremonious with my friends, Dr. Darshil Banerjee», she replied, smiling back, opening the 'a' and accentuating the r and the ee sound in his first name, and kissing him on both cheeks.

Darshil laughed. He was a handsome man with dark hair and beard and expressive brown eyes.

«Will the Nobel be yours this year? After all that standing up in the laboratory?», Phryne said playfully.

«My research isn't ready for it yet this year, but next? Who knows», he replied with an equally playful shrug, his voice shaped by a combination of the Calcutta English and the King's British accents. It wasn't a secret that he wanted to win it someday and he took Phryne's words in stride. It was clear she wasn't questioning his work or effort – something that he wouldn't tolerate at all, and that as a good and respectful friend she would never do.

«Married life agrees with you», remarked Phryne and not only because he looked dashing in his suit.

«Thank you very much», he nodded, «I'm afraid I can't take sole credit for that though», said Darshil with a smile, looking adoringly at Louisa, who was standing up behind Phryne talking to Diana, Simon, and Lydia. As if she had felt it, Louisa raised her eyes for an instant and smiled back.

«It's mutual, I'd say», Phryne said, taking notice of their silent exchange.

When they had decided to get married, Louisa and Darshil had chosen to have a civil ceremony in England first and so the relatives and friends who approved of the match had gathered at the solemn Chelsea Register Office to witness and celebrate a love story that had started because of the correspondence sparked by an academic paper on colloids, a type of substances that includes gels and emulsions.

It had been a grey, cool, and cloudy September day. The bride and the groom, sure of their love for each other, beamed with happiness as they met in front of the frowning officiant, and it set the tone for the rest of the day. Louisa had been hurt by the absence of her beloved grandmother and Rosemary, her cousin that felt more like a sister, but she hadn't let it mar the occasion completely, even if it took a lot of effort not to hear their words echoing in her mind: «being a spinster is hardly advisable, but are you that desperate? That's why you are marrying that…that man? Don't be ridiculous.» As if Darshil weren't a good, intelligent man with so much to recommend him and love wasn't something to be taken into account.

After the ceremony, Maacher Jhol, Biryani, Sandesh, Roast, Beef Wellington, and Fruit Cake were served alongside at the ballroom of the Grantley (much to the manager and some of elements of the staff's chagrin, but Dr. Varnham had the ear – or better said the heart – of many important and moneyed people at his Harley Street surgery for them to refuse it) and the band played until the end of the afternoon as people danced and had fun, the delicately embroidered red bolero Louisa had worn over her pearl dress in deference to her husband's background shining like a beacon as they moved among the guests.

After the party, the bride and groom boarded a train to Scotland for a short honeymoon and Phryne left London the following morning too.

For someone less knowledgeable of her ways, it might seem that there was a pattern to be discerned, some sort of wish to run away from others' happiness, or even jealousy. She would vehemently refuse it. It was true that Dot and Hugh's and Louisa and Darshil's weddings brought cycles to an end, but she saw it as natural and positive. Life marches on and milestones (those or others) were its drum.

Phryne had been feeling restless in England for a while and the timing for another adventure seemed just right. She packed a trunk and went to Abyssinia and the Middle East and then to America, where she went from New York to Los Angeles without any plans in mind.

She was at the Biltmore when she had received Malcolm Foyle's letter. It had been sent to Chester Square and Margaret had forwarded it to her daughter without opening it or adding a single accompanying note. In that moment, Phryne had wished she hadn't come away just so her mother wouldn't have to endure it. The thought of her mother coming across that letter with her breakfast had made Phryne's stomach knot and the anger she felt towards Foyle burned even stronger. She had set her mind long ago that she would meet him again if asked and that thought and those feelings fuelled her resolution beyond any possible regret. Lately she had been thinking about Australia a great deal, but with that new circumstance it had become a command.

At first, she would go to back to do everything she could to prevent Foyle from ever getting out of jail. Staying for a while had crossed her mind, but she had never actually considered living in her birth country again until the Andrews' murder investigation had led her to taking a chance at being a detective and her household started to bloom around her.

«Oh, look. I didn't have to go to India to see you this time», Louisa said, approaching them and putting a hand on Phryne's shoulder, her bangles rattling.

Phryne laughed and patted her friend's hand in return.

«It was my turn to do some travelling».

Ten months ago, Louisa and Darshil had gone to India to visit the elderly relatives who hadn't been able to make the trip to England and to have the traditional wedding ceremonies they had felt appropriate considering the bride wasn't a Hindu. She would have been invited nevertheless, but Bedford College, the University of London College, and their jobs didn't give them time enough to visit her in Australia so Phryne had joined them there instead.

«How are Adhira and Charun?», Phryne asked, meaning Darshil's siblings.

«Adhira is running a new project aiming to provide medical care for pregnant women and small children and Charun has been absolutely heartbroken since you left and has done little else than tend to his army duties and cricket», Darshil said with pretend sorrow.

«Tell her to contact me, in case she needs more funding.»

«Will do. Thank you».

«I imagine. Poor Charun», replied Phryne in jest, with a laugh. Both of them had had a lot of fun in London and Calcutta but they were in agreement about how their liaisons had been completely unattached. «Tell him I wish him the best when you next write to him».

Darshil nodded in agreement. He knew Phryne wasn't being sarcastic.

«And your classes?», she said, turning to Louisa.

«They're going very well», replied a very pleased and proud Louisa. «It's an absolute delight teaching those girls. They are as smart as a whip». Her investigation might have not progressed much since her doctorate but she didn't regret having chosen to pursue teaching and it clearly showed – Ida Freund was one of her idols, after all. Right now, encouraging a new generation of women chemists was what mattered to her and she believed that her students would surely be involved in incredible breakthroughs to come. She was tremendously invested in helping to foster that same sense into her students and show the world how bright women could be.

Louisa had always been curious and inquiring and had benefitted enormously from being brought up by a father who believed that girls should be as educated as boys. (Her mother thought the same but no matter how much child-rearing was considered the women's domain, decisions of that magnitude weren't exactly in their hands). And so as they grew up, both Louisa and her brother had been given the same opportunities. Many people had usually praised Richard's intelligence and the fact that he was studying at Harrow but Louisa's abilities had been remarked upon like a somewhat unpleasant surprise and looked at like an exotic and frightening bird. While she hadn't doubted herself – she had been too confident since childhood for that – it had gnawed on her sometimes and channelling her efforts into learning and improving had felt not only incredibly rewarding but also the best slap on those people's faces she could ever deliver. That unabashed pride in their intelligence had been one of the first things that had brought her and Phryne together, back then when Diana had introduced her new friend one afternoon.

While Phryne was undeniably confident in her intelligence and skill and had always striven to improve it to the best of her abilities, she couldn't help but be tremendously aware of the faults in her formal education. Adapting to a new school didn't scare her, she wore her bravado like an invincibility cape but the entrance exam she would have to complete and then, if everything went according to the plan, having to catch up with such an exigent schooling was much more daunting.

Louisa was quite confident in herself too bit she wished she was able to own it more fully, to take the space she thought was rightfully hers but which she only seemed capable to harness when challenged. While she did derive some satisfaction from the surprise it caused, she also resented herself for not seeming able to maintain it more constantly.

And so each took what they were good at and helped the other get better. Cynics might see it as some sort of trade-off. They thought 'friendship' was much more accurate.

«And speaking of very smart girls… how is Jane? I absolutely loved to meet her when she was in London and I'm looking forward to seeing her at Bedford in a couple of years.»

Phryne smiled proudly.

«Well, as far as I know. I'm going to meet her soon and I'm so excited. I encouraged her to take this tour and it's very rewarding to see her so happy and with a sense such a sense of achievement but I miss her so much. »

Turning that feeling into words made it seem even more acute and Phryne wished she could hug Jane right in that moment.

«Bedford would be lucky to have her, if that's what she wants».

«She seemed very interested in what she was seeing when I showed her around.», Louisa raised an eyebrow. «But I'll stop. I'm paid to teach Chemistry not to run the Admissions Office and to be honest I prefer it like that».

«I'm very happy for you», Phryne said, smiling at her friend.

«Awww. Thank you», replied Louisa, hugging Phryne, brushing her fringe away and kissing her friend on the forehead. «Uh… lipstick», she said, trying to wipe it off with her fingers. «It won't do, let me get a napkin», Louisa laughed and Phryne laughed too but stood still.

«There, take my handkerchief», said Darshil, taking it from his pocket.

«Now – I think it's good», Louisa said, looking from afar as if appraising a painting and putting her hand in the curve of Darshil's elbow.

«Thank you. Much obliged», Phryne nodded theatrically. «I think I will talk to Maud a little, if you don't mind».

«Do go. She misses you a great deal», said Louisa. They sat down and resumed talking to other people at the table.

«Maudie», Phryne said, hugging her seated friend from behind.

Phryne had always felt somewhat protective of Maud. Back then at 14, when they had first met, she hadn't been able to completely explain why but the hindsight afforded by life experience associated it to the contrast between Maud's shyness and Diana and Louisa's more outgoing personalities, even if her unattached look at their dynamics and the different realities she had known before lead Phryne to believe they weren't stringing her along maliciously and that their friendship begun at Queen's Gate School was genuine. It also hadn't wavered as Louisa went to North London Collegiate School as she pursued her interest in studying science more seriously nor been affected by the addition of Amalia to the group, sponsored by Phryne this time.

Besides, Miss Fisher would witness as time went by that there was a great deal of strength beyond her friend's apparently mild and accommodating temper.

Maud Kinsley-Lynton hadn't been supposed to become a painter.

Her interest in the arts had been appreciated at home while it was confined to being a hobby and meant to be applied to "becoming" activities like painting watercolour landscapes that would be displayed in her future home like a quaint curiosity. But while Maud had enjoyed those enough, the more she learnt about art, the more she wished to break free from such limits and become an artist herself, a development that, unsurprisingly, hadn't been well-received by traditional family. She would finish her education at Queen's Gate, get married to a very suitable man and have her house and their children – soon those artistic delusions would dissipate back to the infantile plans they had always meant to be.

But Maud pictured a different future for herself. During the months after her court presentation, she had enjoyed the Season with youthful giddiness and enthusiasm but she chose to follow a different path eventually. Fuelled by her own tenacity and cheered on and supported by her beloved Aunt Elizabeth, she had gone on to attend the Slade School of Fine Arts where her studies deepened her understanding of art and her techniques.

Maud held Phryne's hands and only let them go when they were seating across each other. She wasn't much for nicknames, but she had always received Phryne's fondly. She couldn't recall when she had called her like that for the first time but it felt intrinsic to their friendship and she had missed hearing her say that term. There were a couple of people who had used that name and while she had never publically rebuffed it, internally, it had grated on her.

«Hello, stranger», Maud said without any trace of contempt or reproach.

«It's stating the obvious but it's so good to see you», Phryne said.

«Likewise, dear Phryne, likewise».

«Please tell me I'm not too late for your exhibition» Phryne said, clasping her hands together. «It was often what kept me flying on».

Almost no one who looked at Maud would guess she was the author of the imposing geometric designs applied to large canvases, the biggest ones sizeable enough to fill a wall. (Signed with her full name in capital letters at the bottom, a move that might contained a hit of pettiness Maud had been surprised to find in herself, but which she hadn't changed nor was planning on changing. It was her work and a reflection of herself and for good and for worse her family was part of that).

«You're not». Maud chuckled. «I mean we can't go there right now even if Peter is probably somewhere around here, you know how he is with business hours, but name the time tomorrow and I'll take you to the gallery at once.»

«It won't be early, that I can assure you», Phryne said with a laugh that found a match in Maud's.

«I would never ask that of you and I'm here too so I don't think I could ask that of me either».

There had always been a particular tenderness to their friendship, probably because of how distant both felt from their families – no one else in their group would understand it that well. Also, it didn't mean that Maud didn't trust Louisa, Diana or Amalia, but Phryne had always been the friend she had felt most comfortable confiding in, even if was something hard for her to do, always fearing to be a burden.

It had been to Phryne she had confided her fear that she might have pushed too far and lead to the severance of her relationship with her family for a career she wasn't sure she would succeed at and it had been to Phryne that she had revealed the relief felt upon the realisation that maybe she wasn't cut out to be in a relationship went beyond a sort of consequence of the weight her family had put in marriage until Maud had been surprised by her reaction to Drusilla Scott's indifference.

Phryne had also felt very at ease with Maud when all the changes in her life seemed overwhelming or Janey's absence felt more acute than what she had thought could still be possible, when the war tore her faith in humanity to shreds. She might not be able to convey it in words very well, but she would understand.

«I've made you something», Maud said, reaching out to her handbag and taking out a rolled piece of paper.

Phryne smiled and hugged her even before seeing what it was. Those small gestures were so Maud and she had missed them. They often changed letters and telegrams but it wasn't the same.

Miss Fisher took the gift and iuntied the carefully-made bow in which the teal ribbon had been arranged.

As she unrolled the sheet of paper, it revealed a rather cubist portrait of a woman with dark hair and a flying helmet on, dressed I a beige suit.

«Oh, Maudie», Phryne said, getting teary-eyed.

«I was supposed to go on a book cover I'm working on but it turned out I couldn't give it to Lydia to show the author in the end», Maud said, her tone a bit embarrassed but pleased by how her friend seemed to have appreciated the gift.

«Oh, Maudie. It's beautiful. Thank you very much», Phryne said, hugging her again. «These are the best portraits: drawn by friends who really know you».

Phryne continued looking at the portrait, pausing just to say:

«I hope you don't get in trouble for this. I wouldn't want you to miss your deadline and lose the assignment».

Maud waved Phryne's worry away.

« I still delivered a cover the next day so everything is fine. I haven't been fired. Thank you for the concern nevertheless».

«Always».

«If I may, excuse me», the waiter had approached the table and was making way for the champagne that had been ordered.

A chain of thank-yous was heard as the man placed the glasses on the table.

«I I would like to propose a toast», said Phryne, getting up and raising her glass, the action barely noticed beyond their group in the midst of the frenzied ambiance of the club.

«To many happy returns». She continued, «I know this is usually applied to birthdays but the feeling still stands. May we be together like this often as pleasantly. Cheers».

Louisa, Darshil, Simon, Diana, Lydia, and Maud all stood up and joined the toast.

«Very well said. Cheers», Louisa clapped as best as she could while holding the glass.

«This is good champagne», remarked Diana after taking a sip.

«David would never settled for less», offered Simon.

On the stage, the band continued to feel the electrifying mood in the club as they started playing another song.

«If you don't mind, I'm going to dance», Phryne said, taking a final sip of her champagne and putting the glass on the table.

«We certainly don't, and we certainly will», said Diana, reaching out to Simon, who took her hand with a smile and kissed her on the cheek.

«Oh, yes, that would be fun», agreed Maud, looking at Lydia.

«Very fun».

Louisa looked quizzically but devotedly at Darshil. He nodded, smiled at her and offered her his hand, which she gladly took.

The group made their way to the dance floor, laughing excitedly, some feet tapping to more than the simple pace of walking, unable to ignore the music for much longer, finally merging with the crowd that had gathered in front of the band and dancing the first dance of a seemingly endless night.


A/N: So it turns out that the 'soon' I had mentioned in my last note became a year. It wasn't planned at all and I'm genuinely shocked to discover it had taken this long. I'm sorry and I hope there's at least something in this chapter that makes it up for the wait.

It has been so long, so I better recap that the operetta I wrote Phryne and Diana going to is «Bitter Sweet» a real play written by Noël Coward and showing at then His Majesty's Theatre (it's Her's Majesty's Theatre now) in 1929. The story is «set in 19th century and early 20th century England and Austria-Hungary, [and] centres on a young woman's elopement with her music teacher.» That's what wikipedia says. You can find on you tube 3 clips of it - silent, obviously, but it's interesting to see nevertheless.

The songs mentioned are part of the libretto but I tweaked reality and had fictional Simon play the role that was George Metaxa's in reality.

The Gargoyle Club did exist and was one of the hottest spots in 1920s London, located on Dean Street (at the corner with Meard St) in Soho. The 'David' that greets Phryne, Diana, and Simon is David Tennant, the founder of this private member's club and brother to Stephen Tennant, said to be the 'brightest' of the Bright Young Things. «Hermione» was his wife, actress Hermione Baddley and «Cecil» refers to «Cecil Beaton», Bright Young Thing himself and photographer to the stars, including royalty, as you can see portrayed on The Crown.

The details pertaining to the lift and the inside decor at the time are as mentioned as far as I could ascertain. Then the club, the building, and the business went through a lot of changes meanwhile until it reopened as Dean Street Townhouse in 2009, a hotel and restaurant that allegedly is the place where Meghan and Harry's first date took place (don't quote me on that, it's just something I read as I researched).

I hope you enjoy Phryne's friends. It's no secret that my brain ends up providing me with more OCs than what would probably be advisable in fanfiction but it does happen and I love them. I'm glad to know you seem to have taken a liking to Diana so I hope the rest don't disappoint.

I feel that I must address Darshil in particular. I'm not Indian, let alone an Indian man in 20s London so it's obvious that what I wrote regarding his background is based upon research and a bit inspired by Jnanendra Nath Mukherjee's professional path. (Of whom and which I had no idea about until I thought in more depth about the character and tried to figure out what his career would be like - see, fanfiction is educational). Mukherjee did write a paper on colloids which was published in the Journal of the Chemical Society in 1924 (one of the predecessors of the current Royal Society of Chemistry). UCL stands for University College London, University of London - University College as its official name in the 1920s but retaining the former acronym in informal situations.

While I do acknowledge that him being Indian might be playing into the stereotype (I had thought of making Louisa a chemist first and it influenced her husband's job), I tried not to other him, to treat him as the other characters in terms of goals and ambitions and give him and Louisa a beautiful love story (I've written much more about their courtship and their life but in the end I decided to cut it out because I felt it wasn't pertinent to this chapter; I think about them a lot 'these lovely nerds') but he's still an Indian man in what I gather would be a predominately white environment and it would come with plenty of challenges. I hope I didn't over do it and at the same time that I didn't gloss over them. Looking back, trying to strike that balance was probably one of the reasons why this chapter took so long. «Call him Daniel and be done with it», I thought in a couple of occasions, but I have grown to like him too much for that and feared I might be doing a disservice with such an action.

(Trivia: Women lost their British citizenship if they married foreign men: "aliens", in the so-called technical term. I think Louisa wouldn't lose hers by marrying Darshil because technically they would both be Subjects of The British Empire - even if he would have a different passport issued to people from the Empire beyond the Isles) Let me know if I got it wrong though).

Well, all this to say that I hope I was mindful but also that he stands as a character on his own. I'm obviously open to notes people more in the know of such a context may have.

Bedford College was the first higher education college for women founded in the UK and science was at the core of their very first programs. It has a very interesting story I suggest you check out.

The Grantley Hotel does not exist. I'm not saying that a wedding like Louisa and Darshil's wouldn't have raised many eyebrows and disgruntlement (it would) but I didn't want to put a real hotel in that situation - look-wise, just imagine one of those grand London hotels and you get the gist.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and may the next be updated sooner., but I can't make any promises.

Thank you for your time and possible feedback - you know I love to hear from you.