Chapter Text
Jack Robinson knew Prudence Stanley was out of the country for an extended amount of time and had hesitantly agreed to check on her house periodically (estate, it was more an estate than a home). He knew she had exacted the same promise from Cec and Bert, as well as others, and after having a houseful of “hysterical” women and the death of her son and guests, she needed an empty home and new sights. Prudence has lost some of her staff after Dr Samuels left. Her home needed to be freed of the memories and she needed change. There seemed to be an informal rotation where each checked on the house on a given day. Today was Tuesday and it was Jack’s day.
Jack had only met Arthur a few times and knew how much Prudence loved him. Jack remembered with a smile when Phryne, Prudence’s niece and his partner-in-crime solving, brought Arthur an extra-large gobstopper. She often bought Arthur sweets. Prudence would grumble at the gifts and then smile to herself as she watched how Arthur responded to Phryne. Love ran deep in the Stanley and Fisher households. It was often covered by sarcasm, but both Aunt and Niece were passionate and formidable women.
Jack drove to the front of the Stanley home and parked in front of the massive home. He did not know how many rooms it held, nor how many acres it stretched, but that it held a swimming pool and massive greens, with gardens and lawns to rival any other estate in England, let alone Australia.
God, he missed her. Phryne, not Prudence, whom he had a scary respect for. He was sure if he had her in an interview room, would be a hard suspect to crack. Phryne was just like her. Intelligent. Stubborn. Independent. Ferocious. Loyal. He did not think Phryne saw just how much like her Aunt she was. Phryne was incandescent. Vivid and frustrating and infuriating and enchanting. He dreamed of her nightly. Of her smile and scent, how she looked in one of her many robes, sleepy and mussed, and how red her lips were. He dreamed of her lips on his and how her hair shone in the sun as she flew away “Come after me, Jack Robinson” she had asked. He hated how he was not able to comply. He was saving up every sick day he could, working extra shifts so he could take the leap and afford a crossing to England. And to her.
Jack sighed as he put his automobile in park in front of the Stanley home. He sat for a moment, rubbing his eyes as he paused to place his hat on his head and open the door. He had promised Prudence he would, again, check on her home and he would do his duty. A promise was a promise.