Part 20 (1/2)

'Or perhaps we could try this way,' she suggested, laying one thigh over his hip, and drawing him gently back into conjunction with her again. Slowly, slowly; the sensation was so exquisite that she bit her lip, trying not to grab. They began to move, very quietly and circ.u.mspectly, then faster and faster.

The day wore on. Phryne woke from a light sleep to see that the square of sunlight from the window had moved from one side of the room to the other and was now s.h.i.+ning directly into her eyes. It must be late afternoon.

Lin was asleep. Of course, he had had an interrupted night. Phryne rose and went to the bathroom. Returning, she sat down on the side of the bed and looked at her lover. Golden skin, c.o.c.k's feather hair with a blue sheen, the black line of his eyelashes absurdly thick. He was utterly beautiful and very dear.

She became aware that he had opened his eyes and was looking at her with a similar expression to her own.

'I thought I'd lost you,' he said, cupping her cheek in his hand. Her freshly washed hair swung over his hand.

'And I thought I'd lost me,' she replied. 'It's getting late. Look, the sun has almost gone. Shall we bathe and dress and go down to dinner?'

'If we must,' he said. 'Oh, lord,' he said, raising himself on one elbow and looking at the ma.s.s of garments on the floor.

'What?' asked Phryne from the bathroom, over the roar of water.

'There are no b.u.t.tons left on my ca.s.sock!' he said.

'There goes your reputation,' said Phryne.

As it happened, the party from Melbourne had just arrived, and Lin's ca.s.sock was reb.u.t.toned by Dot, who had been sewing on b.u.t.tons for little brothers since she could first hold a needle. She also repaired his s.h.i.+rt with fast, even st.i.tches. Li Pen stood by the window as his master was rearrayed in his priestly disguise, which concealed the bite on his throat, and escorted him downstairs to reserve a table.

Everyone was coming to dinner.

Phryne was dressed in a new outfit which Dot had brought from St Kilda: a bright red crepe de Chine c.o.c.ktail dress with red shoes to match and a trailing, slightly outrageous red ostrich feather panache for her hair. Dot herself, slightly weak with relief, wore her favourite terracotta and ochre evening dress and a rather nice bandeau with an orange geranium in it. Lady Alice and Eliza were in their own room and emerged as Phryne and Dot reached the stairs.

'So it's all over, Miss?' demanded Dot. She liked to be rea.s.sured.

'Absolutely all over. The bad man is in jail and I would say that he has gone over the edge. He is probably completely and incurably insane, and he is guilty of attempted murder. Twice. Of you and me. Therefore he will be held at His Majesty's Pleasure, and that will probably be for his whole life.'

'Good,' observed Lady Alice. She wore a faded but good dark blue silk dress which had been let out, inexpertly, at least twice as Lady Alice's corpulence increased. But around her neck was a chain of star sapphires and there were sapphires in her dark hair. Eliza wore a dusty rose damask dress with a small hat with more roses on it and the pearls her mother had given her before she fled to the lepers. Both women glowed with joy: they were pleasant to be near, like a wood fire.

'I've asked the Beaconsfield heir to dinner,' said Phryne. 'You'll like him. A good honest man.'

'Then I hope he just demands the money and doesn't go anywhere near Father,' said Lady Alice. 'That man could corrupt a monk.'

Dinner was laid out on several small tables pushed together. Soup was already on the table as the ladies came down and bottles of champagne popped. Old Bill Gaskin, in a new s.h.i.+rt which Annie had bought for him, looked uncomfortably at Lady Alice over the rim of his beer gla.s.s. Madge Johnson, his sister, escorting Young BiIly, prepared to sniff and didn't. This looked like an ordinary woman, getting on for middle age, a bit plump, not some lady come to put on side. Lady Alice improved her opportunity by sitting down with the Gaskins and enquiring gently after Young Billy's poor head and telling them that she wasn't Lady Alice, just Alice Beaconsfield, and she was pleased to meet them and had to apologise for the appalling heir of Dunstable.

Madge Johnson let out her breath. 'He wasn't your fault, my lady...Miss,' she said. 'Neither was your ancestor. Nor the attack on Young Billy. He'll be all right.'

'He will,' said Bill Gaskin. 'Boy's head's as hard as teak, fortunately. Nice to meet you, Miss.'

At the other end of the table Sergeant Hammond was greeting Detective Inspector Robinson, who had come to relieve him of his prisoner and had decided to stay for dinner.

'He might have been sane before he came here,' Hammond said in answer to a question, 'but he's a fruitcake now. We've had to put him in a straitjacket and that wasn't an easy job, he's as strong as a bull. Nasty b.u.mp on the head might have slowed him down a bit.'

'Governor's Pleasure job, then, you reckon?' said Robinson, taking another spoonful of the soup, which was spring chicken and very good.

'You'll never get him to trial,' said Hammond. 'Keeps saying he's the king and we're all his subjects.'

'What about the other bloke, this Wallace?'

'Got away, Miss Fisher says. I don't know how she did that. She seems to have talked this Wallace into felling the prisoner.'

'She's a woman of uncanny powers,' said Robinson, slurping more soup. 'And fortunately, unique. See the grey hair at the side of my head? I call these my Miss Fisher hairs. But she got him,' he said. 'She uses methods which no Commis-sioner would ever countenance, but she always gets her man.'

'Too right,' said Sergeant Hammond.

'More bread? Certainly,' said Miss Eliza to Dot. 'I have to apologise for my previous behaviour at your house, Dorothy. I was unbearable. I was so unhappy and so angry and there didn't seem to be a chance that I'd extricate myself from the situation, or ever see my dear Alice again. But I shouldn't have been so odious. I'll be leaving soon, as soon as Alice and I can find a small house. We've got quite enough between us if I sell my pearls and she sells her sapphires. Where do you think we should live, to do the most good?'

'Well,' said Dot, 'there's the city itself, that's a sink of wickedness. St Kilda could do you some pretty good wicked-ness as well. Why not let me walk you around some of the likely places? The girls can come too,' she added.

Ruth and Jane, clad in their proper but just a bit spangly evening dresses, were being good, which was always a charming sight for as long as it lasted, Dot thought. They were drinking soup by the respectable but remarkably inefficient 'tilt the bowl away from you and scoop' method which they had been taught, which was nice of them, and they were doing it well. Jane was sitting next to Professor Ayers, quivering with questions. He took pity on her and began to talk. Jane, he had decided, was a scientific lusus naturae and therefore to be encouraged.

Dr Treasure had pleaded family commitments and had not come, but Mr Josiah Burton was there, enthroned in a hastily adapted chair and talking affably to Young Billy, who was wondering if he was actually talking to a dwarf or perhaps was not fully recovered from his concussion. Mr Harrison, who was not going to be excluded, sat beside him and sucked soup like a vacuum cleaner.

'We've got something to ask you, Miss Alice,' said Old Bill. 'I don't want this t.i.tle, but I don't think a man ought to give way to tyranny, so I told that Roddy that I wouldn't sign. However, I'd like your advice. What do you think I should do?'

'You're asking the wrong person,' said Lady Alice. 'I'm not going back to England and I don't think you'd be comfortable there either. But there's no reason to allow Father to get away with this-outrageous, utterly outrageous scheme. I say, sting the old b.a.s.t.a.r.d for a small fortune in exchange for signing the repudiation. You should be compensated for your ordeal, for Billy's head, and for all that insult and inconvenience. Get the Melbourne lawyer to tell him so. Then you can use the money for good works, buy your own business or take a trip around the world...'

'Always wanted to do that,' said Bill Gaskin. 'On one of them cruise s.h.i.+ps. Egypt. Ceylon. India. All the islands.' He made up his mind. 'Yair. I reckon that's a good idea, Lady Alice. I wouldn't be comfortable, taking anything away from a nice lady like you. And Madge works hard, she could do with some help in the house, eh, Madge? Send the laundry out? Girl to do the scrubbing? Bit of money'd be nice.'

Madge nodded. A devout reader of romances, she could not see Bill Gaskin as the newly discovered marquess of anywhere, not even Castlemaine. But help in the house would be lovely and would give her more time for her reading.

'Still,' said Bill Gaskin comfortably, aware of the joint of beef which had just been wheeled in and a prosperous future which certainly contained more beer, 'all's well that ends well, eh?'

'Is all ending well?' asked Phryne of Lin Chung. His hand found her knee under the table.

'We are not going to Melbourne with the others,' he whispered.

'No?' She raised an eyebrow.

'If you please, we are going to a Chinese farm, where there is a guesthouse of palatial magnificence, and no one will bother us for at least a week. I asked Dot to bring you enough clothes and things,' he said.

'Wonderful,' said Phryne.

She looked around the room. Everyone was present, happy, well fed and contented. Lady Alice and Eliza were holding hands under the table. Both Gaskins looked pleased. Mr Burton was delivering a blistering snub to Mr Harrison, who had not noticed. The policemen were deep in police shop. Dot was discussing a new house with Eliza, so she would be moving out. And Phryne was about to have free range over Lin Chung's admirable person for a week, without anyone trying to kill her, telephoning her or demanding that she solve some puzzle. She rose to her feet and proposed a toast. More champagne corks popped, one of the most festive sounds in the world.

'To happy endings!' she cried.