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His late night checks complete, Jack carefully pulled the door to the nursery shut behind him, crossing the corridor into his and Phryne’s bedroom. He discovered Phryne sat at her dressing table, carefully removing jewellery.
“All good in there?” she asked.
“Yes. All quiet on the western front. At least for now.” Jack smiled. Bedtime tonight had passed with relative ease – the relevant soft toys had seemingly been assembled in the right way, and eyes had been shut and asleep before he’d reached the last page of the current book.
Phryne applied some hand cream, looking at Jack behind her in the dressing table mirror. “I had lunch with Raymond today.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Well, it was at the restaurant on Russell Street, so…”
“Ah.” Jack moved over to the dressing table, bending over to kiss Phryne’s hair. He squeezed her shoulder before beginning to retreat to his armchair in the far corner of the room.
“So just a lunch?”
“It’s never just a lunch with Raymond.”
“Isn’t it?” Jack quirked an eyebrow.
“Well, rarely ever.” Phryne removed her earrings, placing them in the small pot on the dressing table in front of her.
“If it was about the plebiscite, I’ve voted already. So has mum.”
“It wasn’t. Your mum voted?” She scrunched her forehead. You could never quite tell with Jean Robinson, things could go either way. Very modern in some respects, extremely traditional in others. And sometimes she was very surprising.
“She did, she did. Fiercely marched down to the post box, so Kath tells me.”
“And she voted… which way?”
“’Yes’. Obviously. Are you trying to distract me?”
“Me? Never!” said Phryne, in a voice that came out higher pitched than she had been aiming for.
Jack pursed his lips. That was a tell. Time to attempt to steer the conversation back to whatever she was trying to dance around the edge of telling him. “So why did you have ‘not just lunch’ with Ray?”
“Ah. Well. Terribly exciting. He’s finally going to make that web series he’s been talking about for years.”
“Really?” Jack had managed to take his clothes off, folding them neatly on the chair. He stood up, moving over to the chest of drawers to search for a set of pyjama bottoms.
“Yes. He’s been writing it since just after our wedding actually. Says he’s found his muse finally.”
As he took a step towards the bed, Jack tried not to grimace.
“Now don’t pull a face like that Jack.”
“I’m not… I just stood on a piece of Lego.” Jack bent down to scoop up the offending plastic brick. “How has this even found its way in here?”
“Oh no, don’t start down that path.” Said Phryne, making her way over to the bed and throwing back the covers.
“Why not?”
“Because if you do, you have to ask how the blue bear ended up in the dishwasher last week.”
Jack thought for a moment. The bear had seemed… cleaner when he’d been in the nursery earlier. Less drool trapped in the fur, somehow. He’d just assumed that Mr B had worked his usual magic. He shook his head to bring himself back into focus. “So Ray’s finally finished his script. Has he asked you to read it?”
“He’s asked me to invest!” Phryne’s eyes sparkled.
Jack opened his mouth to react, thought better of it and sat down on the edge of the bed instead. “Are you going to?” Jack tried not to allow his voice to tighten.
“I’m interested…”
“But…?”
“I want some, well, reassurance, I suppose, that I’m not just throwing my money down the drain.”
“So…?” Jack was trying not to use his work interrogation skills, he really was, but he was also determined to tease this tale from her.
“”I’ve asked him for a demonstration of support.”
“From who?”
“The viewers.”
“What viewers?”
“His existing content. On his YouTube Channel. The shorts. You have watched them?”
“Ah, erm, well…”
“Jack?”
“YouTube’s not my thing!”
“Some of them are very popular!”
Jack made a noise that could have been mistaken for a chicken being strangled. “Oh come off it.”
“Over 100,000 views, one of them.” Phryne looked over at Jack, who now appeared to be fascinated by the rogue Lego brick. “You’ll have to get up to speed. And quickly.”
“So how do you ‘demonstrate the support of the viewers’ then?” Jack asked, desperate to steer the conversation away from him.
Phryne sat up straight, directing her gaze directly at Jack. “Crowd Funding!”
“Ah, now that I do know about.”
Phryne took her turn to quirk an eyebrow of surprise.
Jack sighed. “There was a rather clever tool. For bikes. A while back. It was only Fifty Dollars.”
“And was that from a well-known company?”
“Well. No.” Jack conceded.
“But it worked? Enough of you supported the idea?”
“We did. Something like five thousand of us. Don’t know where they all came from… Ah, I see your point, I think.”
“So that’s what I’m asking Ray to do. And I’m going to give him a bit of a hand, with some publicity and things.”
“Have you got time for that?”
Phryne shrugged. “I’ll find time. So what do you think?”
Jack stood up, getting under the bed covers besides Phryne, plumping up his pillow as he thought. “You’re not committed yet?”
“Not yet. We’ll see how it all goes.”
“And you’ve got enough money for however much funding he needs?”
“I have. And it’s coming from the ‘fun money’ account. It’s not like I’m gambling with the Butler’s salary.”
Jack chuckled. “Am I going to end up in the papers? Chances of long lenses?”
“Oh almost none. Very unlikely. He’s only asking for twenty-five thousand from his viewers, although we’ll have stretch goals past that, obviously.”
“Obviously,” murmured Jack, tiredness beginning to overtake him.
“I can’t imagine the press will be all that interested, but we’re going to try to get them onside. Of course, if it’s tremendously successful, you never know.”
“So what do you need me to do?”
“Back it. When it comes online. Even if it’s just a small amount. And on the first day. That’s really very important.”
“OK.”
“OK?”
“OK. He’s one of your oldest friends, Phryne. And… well…” Jack made a vague gesture that Phryne interpreted impeccably.
“Exactly.”
They both settled themselves. Jack transferred the errant Lego piece onto his bedside table, placing it with the teething ring and piece of muslin already in residence. He checked the alarm on his phone, the light of the screen bright in the room. He turned off the lamp, rolling back to face Phryne.
They both shuffled under the doona, snuggling into each other. Phryne kissed Jack as they held each other gently.
“Is the dishwasher incident why there was fluff in my coffee last Friday morning?” Jack asked, a sudden memory jumping into his mind.
Phryne giggled. “Good night Jack.”
Jack yawned. “Good night Phryne,” he murmured.
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