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Rosie was making small talk with a friend of a friend when she saw him across the garden - Jack. Her breath caught in her throat and she completely lost track of what the woman was saying in her surprise.
Surprise was putting it mildly - she'd never have expected Jack to be at an upscale garden party in Ballarat: he barely ever left his office, let alone Melbourne.
Her surprise was compounded by the realisation she was actually pleased to see him there. She'd left Melbourne for her cousin’s in Adelaide nine months earlier when her entire world had fallen apart, unable to face any part of her old life, including her former husband. Jack had been nothing but kind and supportive in the aftermath of the arrests, and they'd exchanged a couple of letters after her move, but she'd found it easier to cut ties, and he hadn't pushed.
But watching him across the garden, talking to the hostess, she found herself truly pleased to see him there, and took it as a good omen for her return to Victoria.
Rosie extricated herself from the conversation and made her way across the garden. Jack looked well, she decided as she drew closer - he was tanned, the way he always was at the end of the summer, and looked rested and, well, happy. He was smiling at something the hostess was saying to him, and Rosie couldn't help wondering how he knew Lady Hestia Forrest, or how he'd come to be at the party. It was a fundraising event for a local hospital, and while Jack was comfortable he certainly wasn't upper class or wealthy enough to warrant an invite. She wondered for a moment if he was there in an official capacity, but he was wearing a stylish light grey linen suit with a pink and blue tie, completely different from his usual style but very much in keeping with what the other men were wearing, looking far from official. Besides, he looked far too relaxed to be working.
Jack was facing towards her, and it didn't take him long to notice her once she was close. His eyes widened for a moment before he quickly schooled his features into a look of polite interest for whatever Lady Hestia was saying to him, and ignored her approach.
Rosie paused, confused by his reaction. That hadn't just been surprise in his eyes, it had been panic. Did he think she wouldn't be pleased to see him? That she would resent him? Did he worry she would make a scene? Surely he knew her better than that.
Rosie thought about avoiding him, but she wasn't one to back down. If he didn't want to see her, he could leave. With that in mind, she straightened her shoulders and made her way over.
Lady Hestia noticed her approaching and smiled warmly at her. “Ah, Rosie, come and meet Mr Jones,” she said, beckoning with her hand.
Rosie froze. “I-”
Jack stepped towards her, his hand outstretched. “Archie Jones, pleasure to meet you.” His voice was friendly, but his eyes were boring into hers, wide and expressive.
Rosie rethought the look he'd given her- he was there under a false name, and the panic in his eyes had in fact been worry that she would give him away. Since Jack wasn't the kind of man to crash a party for fun, she also had to rethink her conclusion that he wasn't working.
She reached out and took his hand. “Rosie Harris,” she said. Jack's eyes softened at the sound of her mother’s maiden name, and he squeezed her hand gently before he let go.
“Rosie is a guest of one of my oldest friends,” Lady Hestia told Jack. “She's been a great help organising today's event.”
“Congratulations Miss Harris,” Jack said. “It seems to have been a great success.”
Now that she knew the reason for Jack’s skittishness, Rosie found that she was rather amused by the whole situation - what were the odds that she would be at a party that Jack was attending under a false identity? She could only imagine how Jack's mind must be racing. “What brings you to the party today, Mr Jones?” She asked, playing along with the ruse.
To her surprise, Jack shifted uncomfortably and glanced at something behind her before answering. “One of the hospital board members is an old friend of my wife’s, so of course we wanted to come and lend our support,” he said quickly.
Rosie blinked. His wife?
Jack cleared his throat, and plastered a smile on. “Ah, here she is,” he said, holding out a hand to the right of Rosie. Rosie jumped a little, looking to her right as a woman's hand appeared from behind her and took Jack’s. The woman the hand belonged to stepped round Rosie and up next to him, wrapping the hand round his arm instead.
“May I present my wife, Fern Jones,” said Jack. “Darling, this is Miss Rosie Harris.”
It actually took Rosie a moment to see it - she was thrown by the shower of golden curls pinned on top of the woman's head - but her eyes soon widened with recognition: Fern was none other than Phryne Fisher.
Of course she would be there. Whatever was going on, Miss Fisher just had to be involved.
Rosie immediately felt guilty for the thought - she was long past the point of feeling any resentment towards the lady detective, and in fact felt rather ashamed of how she'd spoken to her the last time she'd seen her alone. And besides, Jack was undercover and at a party such as this a married man was far less noticeable - and who else would he be pretending to be married to, one of his constables?
Miss Fisher gave her a smile so warm Rosie thought it might actually be genuine. “Pleasure to meet you,” she said, shaking her hand before turning to Jack. “Darling, do you mind if I steal Lady Hestia away from you for just a moment? Ronald and I have had an idea for another fundraiser.”
“Oh, splendid!” Exclaimed Lady Hestia.
“Not at all,” said Jack to Miss Fisher.
Miss Fisher darted up and placed a quick kiss on Jack's cheek, before taking Lady Hestia by the arm and towing her away, leaving Jack and Rosie alone.
Rosie imagined that that had been her intention, and had to admit it had been deftly done.
Jack was waiting for her to say something. Rosie raised an eyebrow. “Archie?”
He looked rather embarrassed. “We’re undercover,” he said.
“So I gathered,” said Rosie. “What’s going on?”
“We’re tracking an art thief, and we know he’s planning on meeting his buyer here today,” said Jack. “We don't want to make the arrest until we see who his buyer is.”
Rosie nodded slowly. “Is it your case or hers?”
“Both, actually,” said Jack. “I was working on it already, when Mrs Laranby brought Phryne in when one of her sculptures was stolen.”
Rosie noted the casual use of Miss Fisher’s first name, but dismissed it - after all, she'd told her to use her name; she was sure Jack had been given permission long before her.
“So the two of them really are old friends?” Asked Rosie, remembering that Mrs Laranby was a hospital board member.
“Hmm.” Jack drank some of the wine he was holding. “What are you doing here? I didn't realise you were back in the state.”
Rosie felt a pang of something like guilt. “I'm sorry, I should have written,” she said.
Jack shook his head. “You under no obl-” His voice trailed off awkwardly, before he shook his head and gave her a rueful smile instead. “Well, I'm glad you're back,” he said. “Adelaide is a terrible place.”
Rosie gave a surprised laugh, and Jack smiled, clearly pleased with himself. Rosie tried to remember the last time they'd laughed together, and couldn't.
“I don't know the person you're here with, do I?” Asked Jack after a moment.
Rosie shook her head. “No, don't worry,” she said. “And your secret is safe with me.”
Jack smiled again. “Thank you,” he said. “I'd better…”
Rosie nodded. “Of course. Good luck,” she said.
Jack nodded and walked away towards the house, and Rosie went to find her friend, via a waiter for a new glass of wine. Despite the absurdity of Jack being undercover, she found that she was glad to have seen him - relieved, even. It was the first time she’d been confronted by someone directly involved with all the horribleness of the year before, and she had survived. And she was glad that Jack seemed so well. She was even glad that he was still working with Miss Fisher, and she’d always be grateful that the two of them had uncovered what her father and Sidney had been up to, despite what it had cost her. She was far enough removed from it now to know it was all for the best.
Rosie did her best not to pay too much attention to Jack or Miss Fisher as the party went on, but it was difficult to keep her eyes from drifting over to them. Miss Fisher approached Jack about five minutes after Rosie left him, and Rosie watched over the top of her glass as she smoothed the lapels of his jacket and pressed in close to whisper something to him. Jack leaned down to listen, his hand on the small of her back. Clearly, they were swapping their findings, but Rosie’s eyebrows shot up at the intimate picture they made.
It was the same every time they were next to each other. Miss Fisher would reach out to touch Jack - linking her arm through his, taking his hand, fiddling with his tie - and Jack would respond in kind, with a hand on her back or hip, leaning his body into hers, kissing her hand before she let go. They looked every inch a happy couple who were deeply in love, and Rosie found that she was… well, amused. She was surprised at herself, really, but she felt nothing other than amusement at the sight of Jack having to act so smitten.
Jack had never been so publicly affectionate with her, even in the early days of their marriage - she never would have let him be, of course, but even if she had, he was always much too proper anyway. But here he was with Miss Fisher, who clearly had no such qualms about public displays of affection, and he was having to play along to maintain their cover. She wondered if Miss Fisher was playing it up on purpose.
She got her answer several hours later.
Jack made his arrest about an hour after their conversation. It was very loud, very dramatic, and over in just a few minutes - during which Miss Fisher had produced a gun from nowhere and pointed it at the two men as Jack handcuffed them. Uniformed policemen appeared on the scene, and everyone was required to give a statement before they were allowed to leave. Jack was in the thick of things, directing the men (and one female constable, Rosie noted with interest), and looked far more like the professional Jack she was used to, but she lost track of Miss Fisher for almost an hour, until the lady detective drove a large truck into the grounds. From the way Jack and the other policemen swarmed around the vehicle, Rosie guessed that the stolen art was in the back of it.
Rosie shook her head ruefully and ate some of the abandoned canapes, waiting patiently to give her statement.The day had certainly turned out differently than she’d expected, but it would be a shame for the food to go to waste.
Once her statement was given, Rosie had no need to stay any longer. The party was well and truly disbanded - fortuitously, the raffle had been early on and the majority of the fundraising was through ticket sales anyway - and her friend had left as soon as she’d given her own statement, too overcome by the shock of it all to wait for Rosie to finish. Besides, Rosie felt that it was only right to say goodbye to Jack before she left.
The constable who took her statement told her that he’d last seen the Inspector near the driveway of the house, which was helpful since that was the only way out of the garden anyway. She collected her things and headed in that direction, and soon spotted Jack standing by a corner of the house, talking to a constable. The younger man left, and Rosie was about to wave when she spotted Miss Fisher walking towards Jack from the direction of the car park, her blonde curls long since discarded.
Jack smiled at her as she approached, and held out a hand to her. Miss Fisher took his hand and stepped up close to him, pressing into his side and tipping her head back as if for him to kiss her… which he did. It was a quick kiss, a kiss that screamed familiarity. He said something as he pulled away, and Miss Fisher smiled. A constable approached that Rosie recognised from Melbourne - the young blond one. Miss Fisher stepped away from Jack so that there was some space between them, but they didn’t drop their hands. The constable said something to Jack, who replied, and the young man turned and walked away, looking completely unfazed by the sight of his commanding officer standing hand in hand with a woman.
She’d had her suspicions, the year before, that something might… develop between Jack and Miss Fisher. The way they'd looked at each other at that football game… it was the same as the way as they were looking at each other now.
Rosie shook her head at herself - she hadn't even entertained the thought that their act that afternoon had in fact not been an act. It was difficult to imagine Jack - her Jack - being so demonstrative in public, but clearly this Jack - Miss Fisher’s Jack - had no such qualms. And it wasn't lost on her that he'd been the one to initiate the contact.
For a moment she wanted to drag Jack away and demand that he think about the damage this relationship could do to his reputation and career, but it was far from her place anymore. Besides, hadn't one of her first observations upon seeing him been that he seemed happy?
Whatever it was that he had with Miss Fisher it made him happy, and she was happy for him.
Once again, Rosie straightened her shoulders and walked determinedly towards her former husband. He got almost the same look of wide-eyed panic in his eyes again when he noticed her, and this time it made Rosie smirk instead of stop short.
“Well, that seemed successful,” she said as she got within earshot. She noted that they'd now dropped hands.
“Er, yes,” said Jack awkwardly. “Thank you for… your discretion.”
Jack winced at his choice of words and Rosie bit back a smile. “Heading back to Melbourne?”
“Yes, there's a lot of paperwork to get done,” Jack said.
Rosie remembered the paperwork well, but decided not to say so.
“Would you like a ride back to Melbourne?” Asked Miss Fisher. “I have my car with me.”
Rosie smiled. “No, thank you - I'm staying in Ballarat, with a friend,” she said. “I've not quite made it back to Melbourne yet.” She hesitated for a moment and then spoke quickly. “Perhaps when I do get back we can get dinner? The three of us.”
Jack and Miss Fisher gave her identical surprised looks, and then glanced at each other. Rosie wondered if they'd been this in sync the year before and it had escaped her notice, or if it was a result of their… clearly much closer relationship.
Jack looked back at her and smiled. “I’d like that,” he said. Miss Fisher nodded next to him.
Rosie nodded as well. “Good, well, I'll see you both when I'm back,” she said. She noticed that the two of them had moved closer together again, as though the dinner invitation had been an invitation to show affection again.
Rosie smiled one last time, and then turned and walked away. She didn't look back.