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Phryne rolled over languorously, and plumped her pillow, happy as a cat. She purred, “You know, I’ve been thinking.”
This can’t be good, Jack thought, but he kept his own counsel. “Have you?” he said aloud.
“This business of blind faith.” She propped up on one arm and pinned him with a gaze. “You didn’t seem to believe in it.”
Jack’s memory drifted back to that moment on the bridge in London. “It seems a risky proposition,” he said.
“But why?” A determined look came over her face.
Knowing there was nothing for it now, Jack went on.“Well, it doesn’t make much sense, does it? Blind faith: it seems--unthinking.”
Phryne’s eyes opened wide. “That’s not it at all! You can’t have blind faith in something you don’t feel very sure about.”
“But that’s just it,” Jack countered. “How can you feel sure about something if you haven’t thought it through?”
Phryne suppressed a smile. Her cerebral policeman, and she, apt to act on impulse: their familiar rivalry. But she wasn’t about to give in. “It’s not a thing you think through--it’s a thing you feel.
“Gravity, for instance. We don’t really understand it, but I have faith that if I grab the lamp off this stand and drop it, it will hit the floor.”
“That’s not blind faith,” Jack objected. “You learned the effects of gravity by seeing it over and over again, and can demonstrate it at any time.”
“All right, then,” Phryne looked for another example. “Believing that the sun will come up again each morning.”
“That’s scientific fact,” Jack stated. “And the sun never rises or sets at all, we just turn away or toward it.”
“Oh, fine,” Phryne said. “What about blind faith that your car will get you safely to your destination? Drivers do that every day.”
“Some faster than oth---ow!” She swatted him with a pillow, and he grinned, not at all apologetic. But she was not distracted.
“You know what I’m trying to say, you’re just refusing to accept it.”
He was silent, and looked utterly unconvinced. She tried another tack. “Why are you so opposed to the idea of blind faith?”
Jack reflected for so long she thought he wasn’t going to respond. Finally he answered, “I don’t suppose I’ve had a very good experience with it. When I went to war, I had blind faith in Rosie—and she in me. In the service, I had blind faith that our side had the right of it—but when I saw what we did to people….” He trailed off, and Phryne simply nodded her understanding. She had seen it, too. “Then when I returned, I had lost faith in everything…and Rosie eventually lost faith that things would ever be what they had been…and she lost her faith in me. We had blind faith in life and each other when we started, and where did it get us? “
“But that’s how life is,” Phryne said, not without empathy. “I learned at an early age not to trust anyone, but even at that, when I fell in love with Rene, I thought it would be different. I had faith in love, and look at how that ended. “
“So you understand what I’m saying,” Jack asserted.
“Yes, but…” She wasn’t giving in. “But I still believe in blind faith.”
Jack sat up and leaned against the headboard of the bed. “So what does blind faith mean for us, then?
“You seem to expect a lot out of this blind faith. I shouldn’t question anything you do, or expect to be told where you are or what you are up to, or try to help. That doesn’t seem like any kind of partnership to me.” He paused and waited for her response, and it was not slow in coming.
“But you don’t think that way! Don’t you see? You don’t expect to need to be granted permission by a woman to do anything. You don’t have to ask to be allowed to take action when it’s needed. You don’t sit around hoping a woman will come and rescue you! ” She was working up a good head of steam. “All my life, men have been trying to hem me in, fit me in a box and keep me there. And for a while, I tried it their way. But they always failed me. Where would I be if I had ever counted on men?”
He didn’t answer at first . He was very still…then slowly nodded. She saw it, and hated it, for a moment. She had revealed so much to this man; so much that she had vowed never to reveal.
“Phryne,” he said at last, “You can count on me.“ His deep eyes drilled into hers.
This time, she was the one who was still. At last she said, “That’s what I was telling you, that night on the bridge. I know you. It’s only been a few years, but I know you—who you are. I do have blind faith in you.”
He was not expecting this. She could see it in his face, he who kept so much to himself. He spoke carefully.
“Maybe---maybe it’s something else that I never called blind faith. Maybe it’s knowing that you can….give your heart to someone and that it will be safe. Maybe it’s …simple trust.”
A smile spread across her lovely face. Feeling a need to lighten the moment, she said,
“Blind faith, simple trust.. they don’t sound very impressive, do they?”
Jack caught her spirit. “Blind and simple. But which one of us is which?”
Phryne whooped. “Why, I call blind, of course!”
“Just a simple plod, here,” said Jack.
“No, never that,” Phryne smiled. “But you gave me an idea.” She turned away from him, reached over to the table next to the bed, and returned, brandishing a scarf. She twirled it around a few times to whet his interest, then wound it around her eyes. “This,” she purred, “could be a pleasant game.” She lay back on her pillow.
At first nothing happened...but when Jack spoke, she could hear his wry smile. “How do you know I won’t just get up and leave?”
“Oh, darling! I have blind faith that you won’t!”
He really had no choice but to prove her right.