Miss Fisher seemed to like his ties. Occasionally a manicured finger would reach out and touch them. Rather too close for comfort at times. Rather personal. But then each and every one of them reminded him of a chapter in his life with Rosie. The years of his life with her lined up so neatly in the wardrobe, so unlike how their marriage ended up being.

That navy and white polka dot tie, the first one she'd bought for his birthday. They'd been engaged for three months at that point. It had symbolised how adult they felt about each other now, soon to be husband and wife. She'd chosen something perhaps a trifle too feminine but he was so besotted with her that he didn't care. He put it on immediately, much to her delight.

The purple tie with the swirling shapes, his first anniversary present. His father in law had sneered at it somewhat but Jack appreciated that she'd found something slightly unusual for him. They were still young and in love, he would wear the tie for her. In time, it became one of his favourites.

The beige dotted one. That was in the box that had awaited him when he got back from playing soldier. Rosie had saved the tie for him for his birthday. He dutifully wore it but it wasn't his favourite. He'd changed but she hadn't. She hadn't understood why.

The blue and grey one. He wore it a lot in that transitional time inbetween his return and the inevitable breakdown of their marriage. In the lines of the stripes, he imagined himself to stay orderly when she shouted or cried at him, the colours calmed him.

The burgundy geometric patterned tie, a style quite fashionable that year. Jack was not a fashionable man. But his wife wanted to put on a show at a society party and who was he to burst that bubble? It was a tie that he wore on the days he didn't feel like himself. Sometimes he needed that flash of colour. A change in mood.

The black one. A slim piece, signifying the waning of their marriage. Sent to him on the year they divorced. The last tie. He did wear it. Sometimes.

He looked at them draped blamelessly on the rack, his marriage laid out in fabric form.

His time with Rosie was done but he never regretted a single tie she gave him. They were tokens of the girl she had been and the woman she had become. There was always room in his head for Rosie. Just not in his heart. Not anymore.