13

Ten minutes.

Phryne had missed the day's last train to London by ten minutes. She had been so deeply convinced that it would depart Leasham at the half-hour, she had taken Mr Nichols offer to be driven there by Jones, the Brentby chauffeur, instead of having to wait to catch the train at the village's halt.

Hardly convenient since she hadn't come prepared to stay overnight but it wasn't the end of the world, Phryne thought, the rush of another departing train ruffling her hair.

Provided it had a vacant room, The Rose and Crown would be quite suitable, having meanwhile become a comfortable hotel in its latest iteration since it had started supplying meals, lodgings, and fresh horses in the 17th century.

Yes, she would check-in, call her mother to relieve her of the worry regarding her daughter Margaret was surely holding, freshen up, have some dinner and sleep, Miss Fisher planned as she walked along the platform, a cloth bag holding some of Mrs Harlan's scones and jam dangling from her hand.

«Phryne! Phryne!»

Miss Fisher kept walking on. It was certainly some other word, yet similar to her name, that was being called out, the gap of the platform and the echo across the station gallery distorting the sound into something she knew so well.

«Miss Fisher, Miss Phryne Fisher!»

There was no room for any doubt now and she thought she recognised that voice. She stopped and looked ahead, trying to locate Hugo, which was easily done, not only due to his height but also because most of the people on the platform were looking at him too; Lord Holtborough calling after some unknown woman was bound to draw attention.

Hugo was coming from her left, his hat raised in one hand, revealing his graying hair, a briefcase in the other, looking very handsome, very elegant, and very appropriate in his olive green tweed three—piece suit and overcoat.

Phryne smiled and waved back at him, the warmth of recognition blooming in her chest.

He signalled he would meet her at the end of the platform on her side and Phryne nodded in acknowledgement.

As she walked, she took a deep breath and arranged the hair that peeked from under the hat with her free hand, a gesture that came out of a mixture of nerves and vanity. Meeting one's first love again is rarely without different shades of trepidation, a feeling increased by the chance of the encounter regardless of Phryne's intrinsic open attitude towards life.

Hugo was crossing the bridge over the railway, now close enough for Phryne to see his face clearly, even under the brim of his hat.

He smiled at her and Phryne smiled back, close to a surprising giggle.

The kind and amused expression Phryne had known so well and had loved so much danced in his brown eyes and in the warmth of his grin. His good looks had gone from charming to distinguished; it suited him well.

«Phryne», he said, her name sounding like a destination he had long wished to reach. He took off his hat. «I wasn't sure if it were you at first».

«Hello, Hugo», she said, «I wasn't sure someone was calling my name either», she continued with a smile and leaning to kiss him on the cheek and give him a loose hug.

When they parted, both Phryne and Hugo stood looking at each other, old feelings and friendship in their eyes, perhaps looking for the young people they had once been and trying to ascertain who they were now, what remained of knowing each other for more than 20 years and what had been shed with the passage of time.

They had last met what… three years ago?

Since Phryne had arrived in London, she had thought about checking in on him but the intention had fell by the wayside among her very lively social calendar and a certain feeling of inadequacy Phryne couldn't quite explain. It was quite particular, especially given that they hadn't fallen out or anything, not even when she had broken up with him after he had graduated from Sandhurst and the outside pressure for them to get engaged had become too much to bear. She had invited him to her going-away party before embarking to Australia but he had had to regretfully decline as it took place on the birthday of his eldest son and the boy was home from school.

«If we were still sixteen, we would probably be hiding in that corner right now», Phryne said with a chuckle, pointing to the edge of the building behind her.

Hugo laughed with enthusiasm, sincerity, and fondness at the reminiscence.

She had always loved to make him laugh, to reach beyond that wall of shyness and seriousness he had about himself.

«And very quickly, before we were missed and it was time to be packed in the car alongside the luggage», he said.

That longed-for welcome-back kiss had, for him, been the sign that he was finally on holiday for many years.

«I usually got to Norfolk first, didn't I?», wondered Phryne, not sure of the school calendar anymore.

«Not always. Certainly for the sake of variety, Roedean and Eton liked to change dates up», Hugo continued. Those had been fun days in those years, full of excitement and discovery, and he cherished them deeply.

«I am very glad to see you», Phryne said, putting her hand on his arm.

«Likewise, Phryne, likewise», he said, covering her hand with his, full of tenderness. «What brings you by, if you don't mind me asking? You're still living in Australia, aren't you?»

«Yes, yes, I do. I came to England to sort some matters out and decided to drop by Brentby today… I have been in London, mostly».

Phryne wasn't aware of what Hugo knew or didn't about the Fishers' predicament but she wouldn't be the one to expose it.

«I'm sure you have plenty of catching up to do», he said without any trace of reproach or irony. «Lords' is in session so I've been too but I come back home every chance that I get».

«You've always loved Leasham», Phryne said, recalling how well he moved around both the estate and the town and the enthusiasm or disappointment changes either big or small brought to his beloved environment. They had ridden in the area just the two of them or with Amalia many many times.

«It's true. It's where my roots are. Wixenford, Eton, Sandhurst, the places where I laid my head at night while I was in the army were alright, but Leasham has always been home», Hugo said, the truthfulness of his feelings in every word.

Left unsaid: regardless of his fondness for it he had never wished to be its actual custodian as he was now, since being so could only come to be at the cost of Louis's life, his beloved older brother and heir to the estate and the title. But Phryne knew. They had talked about it once during those afternoons spent at the folly in Brentby.

«I heard someone say once that the first son gets the estate, the second goes to the army, and the third to the church», he had teased. Whether by design or coincidence that had actually happened to the two eldest Selwyn boys, the third – Edward- turning to the Law instead, too restless for the cleric vocation and/or employment. Personally, Hugo hadn't minded joining the army. It struck him as a lively and interesting path for his life. Not only did he found in its rigour and discipline a suitable career that matched his reserved demeanour but also another avenue to deepen his love for History. The deployments and the War had blackened his perspective on service yet he had found some purpose in it again eventually but not for long. By then, Louis' lungs gave up after years of frailty and pain, the lingering consequences of gas warfare catching up with him in the end. Hugo had returned to Leasham for good in the worst possible scenario after the death of his father about seven years ago.

«Speaking of comings and goings… am I being presumptuous in believing you've missed the last train to London?»

There it was again, Phryne thought, that amused yet kind look on his face.

«Not at all. You are correct», Miss Fisher said with a nod.

The day was giving way to night and starting to cast that blueing light made it difficult to look at anything and see it clearly, «But I have Mrs Harlan's scones and jam to tide me over for the night at the inn. I've been in worse situations», she continued, fully confident in her plans.

«No offence to The Rose and Crown, which is a very fine establishment, but I can't possibly let you stay there when you are stranded in my home town».

Hugo's offer was so sincere, Phryne was tempted to accept at once but, out of politeness, she felt she still must object and, while on paper it was true, the house wasn't just his anymore.

«I wouldn't dream of foisting myself on your home. And what about Eliza? She may mind the imposition. Besides, I wasn't counting on spending the night and haven't come prepared to dine with company».

«I obviously can't totally speak on her behalf, but I don't think Eliza would oppose you coming. And do you truly believe that you would be the first impromptu guest to ever stay in Leasham in three centuries of history?», Hugo said, laughing. «Fear not. Everything will be sorted out. Besides, apocalypse won't start if one dines in day clothes for once».

«How could I decline?», Phryne gladly acquiesced.

«This way then», Hugo said, gesturing for them to retrace the steps he had taken across the bridge. «Morton is probably wondering where I am».

«Plus ça change», a grinning Phryne said.

Hugo chuckled, offering her his arm.

«Haven't we caused scandal enough for today, with you shouting my name in a crowded train station?», Phryne said in jest, taking his arm anyway.

Hugo laughed heartily and said:

«Are you afraid for my reputation, Miss Fisher? It used to be the other way around».

«Well, you know my reputation was never my most pressing concern and while men do have more leeway, you are the married Earl of Holtborough now. That's quite a lot to uphold».

«It's heart-warming to be so cared for», Hugo said, with both delight and honesty that went further than what the situation probably warranted.

Phryne smiled at him.

«Always».

«So, how's Australia? In awe of you, I suppose».

«I guess you could that. I'm a private detective now, you see, and my stellar work has even been mentioned in the papers sometimes».

«Congratulations».

«You know I don't do things by halves».

«Never. How could you?»

«I know Brentby is being let», he said after a beat. As they had grown close all those years ago, Phryne had shared with him details of the prickly relationship between father and daughter and of the " flights of fancy" as Phryne called Henry's many irresponsabilities for the sake of economy. «I'm sorry. It mustn't be easy».

«Thank you», Phryne said, patting his arm. Hugo had always been quite empathetic and intuitive and she had liked that about him.

«Regardless of the reasons that brought you to England, it's wonderful to see you again», he said.

«I don't know why I didn't seek to meet you earlier, dear Hugo», she confessed, «we were always friends, even before we fell in love».

«We just run in different circles, that's all».

«Yes, it's true but it's not enough to justify it. Many people don't and it doesn't mean they don't see each other for years or keep in touch. I always cherished you very much, you know», Phryne said, pausing and turning to him.

«I know. You have always been very special to me as well, Phryne».

Their conversation would resume eventually but, for now, they kept walking towards the car in that warm silence only old friends can conjure and maintain.


A/N: Long time, no see, I know. Thank you so much for still being there and for reading this new chapter.

I know it focuses on yet another OC but I hope it can help shed some light on another facet of Phryne's life in England before returning to Australia. As I think I had mentioned before, I know book!Phryne is in her 20s, but the Phryne I've known first is TV's so there's more ground ready for headcanons.

Quick mention that I retconned some bits relating to the Fishers' properties and history - the Norfolk house by which Phryne heard Henry and Eugene argue in my story is the Fishers' country estate in Norfolk and not the name of their house close to London or whatever it is. I have to confess, yet again, that while I love the show to pieces those bits seemed rather rushed and confusing.

I have been having some difficulties writing so I don't know when a new chapter will be up and I won't make any promises. Just let it be known that I would like and hope to finish this story someday, hopefully rather earlier than later. We'll see.

I hope you liked Hugo and are still into reading more about Phryne's foray into the English countryside.

Feedback is appreciated, as always.

Thank you for standing by. It means a great deal.