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“Sir?”
Jack blinked and looked up from the report he was checking, to find Constable Granger standing in his office doorway.
“Sorry, sir, you wanted me to tell you when it was six o’clock?”
Jack bit back a sigh, and nodded. “Thank you, Granger.”
The constable nodded and went back to the front desk, leaving Jack to ponder his next move. Phryne liked to tease him about being a ‘man with a plan’, but he had to admit that his only plan today had been to hope something would come up to keep him at the station. Not that he was wishing for someone to be murdered or anything… not exactly, anyway.
Jack let out an actual sigh. There was nothing for it - he’d assured Phryne that he’d leave by six, and he wasn’t about to start breaking his promises.
He tidied his papers, put on his coat and hat, and headed out.
“Good night, sir,” said Granger from his perch. He cleared his throat nervously. “And, um, many happy returns.”
Jack gave Granger another, somewhat terser, nod. “Thank you Granger. Good night.”
Collins must have told him. And Collins would have found out from Dot, who had it from Phryne, who was determined to make him celebrate. Jack slid into his car and shut his door a little harder than necessary. The loud sound jarred him out of his thoughts, and he shook his head at his melodramatic thoughts. It wasn’t as though he hated his birthday or actively avoided it, and if the woman he loved wanted to mark the occasion why should he complain?
It was just that… he didn’t like to be the centre of attention, and Phryne wasn’t one to do things by halves. She’d refused to tell him her plans, only insisting he arrive at Wardlow at a “reasonable time please, Jack, none of your staying chained to your desk until I come and pry you away”. He took this to mean he should expect some kind of gathering, or perhaps even a trip out somewhere, and neither option particularly appealed.
The journey to Wardlow was easy, and soon enough Jack was making his way up the path to the front door. He thought about going in via the kitchen, but he didn’t want to disturb Mr Butler if Phryne really did have lots of guests.
Though, from the look of the house, there didn’t seem to be a party going on. In fact, it seemed completely dark.
Jack frowned as he reached the front door - there were no lights on in the hallway, which was very unusual at this time. Jack took out his key and unlocked the door, stepping slowly into the darkened house. It occurred to him that guests might be hiding, that it was perhaps a surprise party, and he braced himself as he peered into the parlour, and then the dining room - but it was empty, and unlit, as was the kitchen beyond.
Jack was well and truly confused at this point. Had he gotten his wires crossed? Was he supposed to be at his bungalow instead?
Jack wandered back into the hallway. “Phryne?” He called out.
There was no answer.
He took off his hat and coat and hung them up, before standing still for a moment, wondering what to do. He’d have a look upstairs, just to make sure, then he’d telephone his house and apologise to Phryne for his mistake.
Though he could have sworn she’d said to come to Wardlow…
He was perhaps three steps up when the music started. It was soft, and slow, and… sultry, and it was coming from upstairs. Jack paused, and then hurried onward. He recognised the music but he wasn’t sure where he’d heard it before. He got his answer as he turned the corner on the staircase - a large, pink feather lying on the step in front of him.
Jack stopped and stared at it for a moment, memories flooding back and causing an instant physical reaction that had him loosening his collar.
His eyes raked up the stairs to the hallway ahead, and saw that light was spilling out from Phryne’s open bedroom door, and in the light he could just make out the silhouette of a fan.
Jack grinned.
Happy birthday to me.