Work Text:
The week prior to Jane’s trip to France for her first semester abroad had been a whirlwind. Phryne, remembering her own excitement and nervousness at leaving Australia and starting school in a whole new world, had mapped out the trip like a general assessing a battle plan. She was thankful that, in Jane’s case, she had a loving and supportive family here in Australia and, in case of an absolute emergency, Phryne’s mother could get to her from England in just a few days if the need arose.
The weekend before the ship sailed, the women of the Fisher household were finally relaxing in the parlor after a long morning of packing and preparation. Mac and Jillian Henderson, Phryne’s attorney, had stopped by with presents for the trip and, in Jillian’s case, Jane’s passport.
Jane stared at the document in her hand, the tangible symbol that this new phase of her life was about to begin and she started to tear up. It was not surprising that the change in her circumstances overwhelmed her given that not that long ago she had been a child living on the streets being forced to steal for a living.
“Jane, are you all right?”
The teen nodded. “It’s just a lot to take in. It never occurred to me when I jumped that train to Ballarat that I would someday be taking a ship to Europe. I find myself with the most wonderful family and now I’m leaving and I wonder how an Australian street rat will be accepted at a French boarding school when I’m still learning the language. I’m afraid I’ll come a gutser.”
Before anyone else could reply, Jillian raised her finger in the air and then pointed at herself. Phryne and Mac smiled, suspecting that they knew the story she was about to tell.
“Jane, until I was 15, I lived in England with my parents. When they died, I moved here to live with my aunt and uncle. When I met your mother and Mac at a garden party at your Aunt P’s house, I was a very nervous orphan in a new country and a new situation. She and Mac immediately befriended me when we were introduced. As Phryne was going to be moving to England, we bonded over having to move and discussing how I was finding Australia. We had huddled together on a bench behind a hedge and had gotten to the subject of football.
I had mentioned that I truly enjoyed Australian football and Mac had asked if I had a favorite team. I proudly announced that I rooted for Collinswood and that Perkins was my favorite player. Your mother and Mac looked dumbfounded. Phryne asked how long this had been going on and my response was that ‘after checking out all the teams and their players I had decided on the Magpies about a month ago. Mac then asked if my aunt and uncle knew and I explained that my uncle allowed me to make my own decisions about such things. Both your mother and Mac stated that they were highly impressed at his liberal attitude. I explained that it wasn’t as though this was anything unusual since my uncle roots for Abbotsford while my aunt has rooted for West Melbourne since she was my age. About the time I mentioned my aunt, we heard a great commotion on the other side of the hedge. Judge Mattingly appeared to be having some sort of fit and had champagne spraying from his nose.
After the judge was taken away for medical treatment, your dear departed, uncle Edward took the three of us into the library to make sure that we weren’t upset from the incident and asked if we had noticed anything unusual prior to the Judge becoming ill. We all shook our heads and I explained that I had just finished mentioning that my uncle rooted for Abbotsford and my aunt rooting for West Melbourne. And, once again, about the time I mentioned my aunt and West Melbourne, your Aunt Prudence walked in. Her reaction was much the same as the judges, although she sprayed a fine vintage brandy she was drinking to soothe her nerves. I don’t know what it might have done to her nerves but I doubt it did her sinuses any benefit. My first question was what in the world was wrong with West Melbourne that everyone reacted so strongly to them being supported? As your uncle escorted your aunt out to get cleaned up, he asked your mother to explain the differences between the terms ‘supporting a team’ and ‘rooting for a team’ in Australia.
We all had a great laugh when they explained it and I always appreciated Mr. Stanley for not embarrassing me about using the wrong term. In fact, it became a running joke to say when things were bad, ‘Well, it could be worse, your aunt could support West Melbourne.’ or if someone fancied someone we asked if they were that individual's staunch supporter.”
For several minutes, no individual in the room could catch their breath from laughing. Finally, finally, they could almost look each other in the eye without once again totally losing their composure.
And then, Cec walked in from the dining room to find out what all the commotion was about.