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She was not looking forward to this trip to England. Yes, technically it was for a family emergency, but she had the feeling said emergency was not really an emergency; rather, it was an excuse to get her back to London for the holidays. Not that she wanted to go home at all, mostly because the last time she’d been around her family, she and her father, the great Baron, had ceased speaking to each other.
Though supposedly he’s on his last legs, she thought to herself, momentarily chewing on her bottom lip. Her father had hurt her in many ways, but admittedly he had tried to change. Perhaps she could forgive him if he really was close to shuffling off the mortal coil.
But first, she needed to get to Sydney to catch her flight.
It wasn’t that hard; catching a small commuter plane in Melbourne was easier than driving, though she did love to drive, and then it would be a quick stop in Hong Kong and then she would be at Heathrow, She was rather looking forward to a quick jaunt in Hong Kong if she could. The protests might make that impossible, but it was worth a try if she could.
She got on the plane and settled in, trying to concentrate on a magazine and ignore the other passengers. She wasn’t in the mood to chat, but that was because she was trying to dredge up the courage to deal with her parents without drowning herself in alcohol.
“This is your pilot speaking, once we take off we’ll arrive in Brisbane in roughly two hours.”
How on earth had I gotten on the wrong plane? she thought to herself, unhooking her seat belt as another gentleman did the same. “I’m on the wrong flight,” they chorused.
“We haven’t left yet, so you can both disembark,” the flight attendant said. “Do you have luggage?”
“Yes,” Phryne said as the gentleman shook his head.
“Just my carry-on,” he replied. His voice was smooth like the jazz she preferred.
“I’m afraid we can’t unload your luggage, ma’am. But you can talk to the ticket office to have it sent to your home?” the flight attendant said. Phryne nodded and took her own carry-on out of the overhead compartment and followed the man off of the flight, admiring his posterior as she did. He certainly was rather good looking from the front and the back.
When they got back to where they could find their flights they both started heading in the same direction. “Going to Sydney?” he asked.
She nodded. “And then on to London by way of Hong Kong.”
He shook his head. “All flights to Hong Kong got canceled because of the protests. They’re rerouting to Abu Dhabi.”
“Oh, damn,” she murmured. “Are you headed that way, perchance?”
“Just to Sydney. I have to pick up a prisoner and transport him back here.” He flashed her a grin. “Detective Inspector Jack Robinson.”
“Phryne Fisher,” she said, holding out her hand to him.
“The Phryne Fisher? Whose assistant is named Dot?”
“How did you know that?” she asked.
“My constable is her beau,” he said.
Then it clicked. “That DI Robinson? That’s you?”
“Apparently,” he said, reluctantly letting go of her hand. “Imagine that. Dot and Hugh have wanted us to meet for ages, and here we are, both on the wrong flight.”
“Imagine that,” she said, giving him a wide smile. Well, he may be here on business rather than pleasure, and only going to Sydney instead of the entire journey, but it would be nice to have some company for a time. Especially when the company was so handsome. “Well, Detective Inspector, let’s see if we can find the right flight this time.”