(A/N: I own only plot. This is for musicrox14, a good friend and long-standing reviewer. Thanks so much.)

The glossy white Mercedes pulled up outside the house. A woman with flowing black hair stared at her four year old. Her newborn daughter snored happily in the backseat. The woman tapped her son's shoulder.

"Go on, kid, get a shift on." She told him, her tone more gentle, more apologetic.

"Mummy, why do I have to go there? It's all big and scary-lookin'." The small boy asked. He was turning five in a month's time.

"Because, kid, your dad's gone and Pops is a proper little handful and as a single parent, I can't handle you and her. You're older than she is, and more capable of being without me. And besides, there's someone waiting for you. Some lucky soul who doesn't have any kids, but she desperately wants some, Go knows why."

She sounded more of herself now, irritated with her son's questions.

"How many people are there?" Her tiny child asked, nervously. He wasn't much good in big groups.

"One man, one woman." She snapped.

"Then why don't she have children of her own?" He asked.

"I dunno, go ask her! Just get going, would you!" She shouted, finally losing her temper.

The child grabbed his case, jumped out and ran across the road.

He knocked timidly on the door, then it swung open. A woman who looked to be only in her mid-twenties stood in the door, her long black hair curling to her hips.

She was slender, but not skinny. The little boy saw her and thought of his mother. She crouched down to his height. He liked her cocoa coloured skin and her intense brown eyes.

She gave him a soft smile, then she stood up.

"Hello, darling. You must be Jerome Clarke." She said, happily.

"I know my name, miss, I hear it often. I don't know you, but I don't really want to. I just wanna know why my mummy's left me here." Jerome sighed.

The lady noticed his pain and felt a pang. She'd taken to this small child already.

"Well, sweetie, when she wrote her letter to us, telling us her situation and having to leave her four year old, we decided to take you. She's hurting right now, as she loved your daddy and he left her. And she has to cope with your baby sister, as I understand, who is just a newborn. She says she can't cope with more than one, love. So don't take it to heart. Now, sweetie. Would you like some cookies?"

Jerome assessed this woman. He looked her over. He saw her looking cuddly and sweet, not like his mother, who was sharply boned and looked meanly at him.

He slipped one little, pale hand into hers, watching her with big, blue eyes. She smiled at him.

The woman led him to a massive table and sat him up there.

She gave him a plateful of cookies and some milk. "There you go, my lovely." She beamed.

He looked at her. "Could you please tell me who you are, miss?" He asked, his voice shaking a little.

The lady kindly said "My name is Trudy Rehman."

Jerome smiled. "What do you do here?" He asked her curiously, but he sounded scared in case she decided she hated being questioned.

"I'm a housekeeper and cook. I live here, with Victor. Though, dearie, I must warn you, he tends to be a little bit of a grump." Trudy told him, beaming.

Jerome said "If he's your husband and you like children, why don't you have any?"

Trudy chuckled. "Oh, my lovely, we aren't married. I told you, I work for him."

Jerome was confused. "I thought that if a man and lady lived together alone, they were married. My mummy said so."

Trudy tried not to burst into all-out laughter. "Darling, I know you're only four, but just because Victor and I live alone, it doesn't mean we're married. And anyway, my lovely, this place is your home now."

Jerome looked around. "It's big and scary, Miss Rehman."

Trudy smiled. "No, it isn't, baby." She replied kindly. "It's just very old. And you, darling. Tell me about you."

Jerome looked at her, biting into a cookie.

"Mummy told me not to tell anyone about my life." He told her sadly.

"Baby boy, you can trust me. I think we might have some things in our lives that are the same." She told him, softly.

Jerome looked closely at this woman's honest and trusting face.

"Well, when I was two, Daddy started getting this illness called alcoholism and Mummy got upset with him. Daddy hurt her and then when she told him not to and he saw me, he came to hit me.

When Daddy left Mummy, just two days after Poopy got born, Mummy started hitting me. Then she left me with you." Jerome wanted to cry, but he was scared he'd be hurt by the woman he was talking to.

In actual fact, tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh, darling boy. I wish I'd had it like that." She told him. Jerome was stunned, she actually wanted that?

"What happened to you?" Jerome asked her, feeling sorry for her as well as shocked and curious.

"I won't go into detail. But let's just say that since I could move around, I was beaten up, cursed at, locked in a dark cellar and starved and my Daddy left my Mummy, too." She told him.

Jerome was horrified. She'd had worse than he did. He'd never been starved or locked in a cellar or cursed at.

He jumped out of his chair, got some tissues, scrambled up into Trudy's lap to wipe her cheeks dry.

"There, there, I got you." He soothed, gently drying her up. After she'd stopped crying, Jerome wrapped his arms around her neck. "No cry. You're safe."

Trudy smiled. "You know what? I know. And now, with me, so are you." She kissed his blonde mop of curls.

He snuggled up to her, enjoying the warm smells of cookies and cakes and flowery perfume.

Trudy asked "When's your fifth birthday, my lovely?"

"My mummy is a Jehovah's Witness, she didn't celebrate my birthday. She just told me that I was born on July 16th 1996." Jerome told Trudy, snuggling closer to her.

She sniffed. "OK, my love. I'm a Christian, which means I celebrate birthdays, Easter and Christmas. So next month, for your birthday, are there any presents you'd like?"

Jerome gave her a look. "What are presents?" He asked her.

That stopped her. "What? Have you never received a gift before?"

"No. I don't know what those are." He gave her an inquisitive look and it really made her wonder.

"OK, a present is something people give to others. Like, for your birthday, you'll find a whole pile of things in our living room for you to open and play games with. Everything that gets wrapped up and left by the fireplace is specially for you, my darling." Trudy told him.

Jerome had only known her for half an hour, but that didn't stop him from reaching up and kissing her cheeks.

"You're a present, then. A very special, cuddly present." He told her, not releasing her.

She kissed the small child's forehead. "And you are, too."

That was the start of a beautiful and happy friendship.

OK, what are you thinking? Chapter two starts with Jerome's fifth birthday, then progresses to when he and Mara are dating.

Hope you enjoyed this. Review! Until next update, BlackCat46. :)