This is the honeymoon story I promised. It fits between chapters 8 and 9 of my story Now You're Talking Wedding Bells, but you don't have to have read that for this to make sense, I think. Please review or send me a message - it's good to know people are reading this stuff! xx
After two busy weeks of their honeymoon travelling around Europe, Jean and Lucien settled into the carriage of the London-bound train with a sense of relief. Jean especially had been glad to get off that ferry from Calais, and would be happy never to see the iron-grey English Channel again. She had stood on the deck for most of the crossing, fighting nausea, unsure whether the soaking she was receiving was from the rain or the choppy sea.
But the railway carriage was heated, thankfully, and there was a certain comfort in hearing English spoken around them again. The accents may have been varied and unfamiliar but there was no problem with understanding the ticket inspector or the steward in the buffet car.
Lucien put his arm around her shoulders and she rested her cheek on his chest and her hand on his waist, in a gesture that was becoming her habit now. She let her eyes close for a moment and soon dozed, only distantly aware of station announcements and other passengers coming and going.
Lucien did not sleep, kept awake by a bubbling excitement beneath his calm exterior. He was keen to see London again, to see the city he had lived in for a while before the war, and to find out how it had changed since.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
That evening they left the hotel and went to explore on foot. Some areas Lucien knew immediately, almost unchanged in nearly thirty years, while others were unrecognisable, changed forever by wartime bombing and the peacetime rebuilding.
When they had walked as far as they could, they returned by bus, put on the right one by a helpful passerby. It had stopped raining and the evening was chilly and clear, and they lingered outside the hotel, studying the northern night sky, still strange with unknown constellations.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
After lunch the following day they headed to their destination, ducking into a nearby tea shop to escape the drizzle that had started up again. "Are you sure about this?" Jean asked. "Perhaps we should have written first. She may not want to see us."
"Of course she will! And there wasn't time to write and get a reply back before we left Ballarat, so what else could we do?"
The nurses' home was just up the street, and they had agreed that Jean would go ahead, men not being generally welcomed in such establishments. She finished her tea and stood up, kissing Lucien on the cheek and putting her coat back on.
As she reaching the door of the home, a young woman was coming out, and she held the door open for her. "Do you know Mattie O'Brien?" Jean asked, and the nurse indicated the stairs.
"Top floor, third on the left," she said, still walking away. Then she paused, recognising the accent, and looked more closely at Jean. "You her mum?" she asked, interested now.
Jean laughed and shook her head, and hurried up the stairs. She was still smiling at the idea when she arrived outside the room, and she knocked quickly, before she could worry about whether it was the right thing to do.
There was no reply, and Jean knocked again, her heart sinking, thinking that they might have come all this way and would not manage to find her. This time a sleepy voice responded, "Just coming," and Jean sighed with relief at the familiar voice.
Mattie opened the door, doing up her dressing gown still, and looked blearily round the edge of the door. She had been on the night shift and had slept for only a few hours since finishing work. There was a long pause as her eyes tracked up and down the figure in front of her, her not-quite-awake brain not connecting that Jean was at her door instead of thousands of miles away. Jean was grinning at her but said nothing, just waiting.
"Jean? How ...?" Her hand reached out as she opened the door fully and grabbed Jean's hand, pulling her in for a hug, a really tight hug, and then an arms-length look.
"Jean, is everything okay? Why are...? Where's Lucien?" Mattie's joy at seeing her friend halted for a moment at the thought something might be wrong. Why would Jean come halfway round the world alone?
"He's fine, everything's fine, Mattie. I'm sorry if I scared you. He's in the tea shop at the end of the road, probably wondering what we're talking about!"
Mattie started taking off her night clothes and dressing rapidly, searching for clothes in her cupboard and firing questions at Jean.
"So why are you here, Jean? Oh, it's so good to see you!" She broke off from dressing to hug her again. "I can't believe you're really here! Why didn't you say you were coming?"
"We're on our honeymoon, Mattie. We've been to Paris, and Italy, oh, all over, but we couldn't go home without seeing you, and there wasn't time to write to fix it up before we left Ballarat."
In less than ten minutes Mattie had got dressed and ready, all the time talking to Jean, and occasionally stopping to look at her properly, before rushing on again to find her boots and coat. Jean spent a moment looking around the room, seeing Mattie's familiar books and clothes, and on the window sill, among some family photographs, she spotted a frame with their wedding photo in it.
Mattie grabbed her keys and Jean's hand and they were outside in the corridor almost before Jean knew it.
"Slow down, Mattie! He'll still be there, you know."
And he was, of course. Lucien stood up as the two women came through the tea shop door, and quickly found Mattie's arms wrapped tightly around him. When she stepped back to look at him properly he saw tears in her eyes.
They ordered more tea, and some cake, and spent time catching up on news. They talked about Charlie, the wedding, the places they had visited, Mattie's work and what the hospital was like, gradually slipping back into the old ways of talking to each other, getting comfortable together again.
Mattie watched Jean and Lucien, seeing a new intimacy between them, and real pleasure in their laughter together, and she was moved by this. They really did deserve this happiness.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
They arranged to meet again the following day for some lunch, and afterwards Lucien left to do some sight seeing while Jean and Mattie went to do some shopping together. The women then returned to the hotel and spent the rest of the afternoon chatting intermittently, just enjoying each other's company.
"So does he make you happy, Jean?" Mattie asked.
Jean smiled at this. "Yes, he does. He's good to me. We want to get this right, Mattie," she replied. Then she added "We've missed you; I missed you when Mei Lin was in Ballarat, and then when we had to keep everything so secret. I just wanted to tell you more than I could put in a letter. Some of it has been very difficult. But that's over now, and I'm very happy with Lucien. But what about you; are you happy?"
Mattie hesitated. She really wasn't, but she needed to stay in London anyway. "I miss home. The work is interesting but it's hard to get to know people. Sometimes I just want to go home, but I have to stay for a couple of years at least. But I do know I will definitely be coming home then, maybe to Ballarat, maybe to Melbourne."
Jean smiled at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry if we've made it harder by coming along and reminding you of home."
"No, you've not made it harder. It's been lovely to see you and catch up properly, and see you and Lucien together. I wouldn't have missed it for anything."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
After dinner together that evening they had to say goodbye, and Mattie kept it brief, knowing it would be hard anyway. She thanked them for dinner, and hugged and kissed them both, then left without looking back. Lucien reached for Jean's hand and stroked it with his thumb, offering comfort and perhaps needing it too.
They talked about all they had done in the last couple of days as they undressed for bed that evening, and as they lay in bed together, holding each other, they felt content, secure, and perhaps even a little homesick themselves.
"Time to go home, I think," Lucien said, expressing what they both felt. "I'm looking forward to it." And he kissed her in the darkness.