Jean had been away from Ballarat for three months. The first two weeks had been almost bliss. Lucien had leapt on the bus and they had managed, in between her caring for Amelia, her granddaughter and sorting out her son's house, to have some time together. They had used her walks with the baby to meet and talk, shyly at first, then becoming more relaxed and open. He spent a lot of time apologising for his past behaviour. She had smiled and told him he had a lot of demons to deal with, the last being the death of his mother. He was sure that if he hadn't been packed off to school so quickly maybe he would have dealt with it better. She apologised for being uptight and frosty, but he said he deserved it. They had moved from a peck on the cheek at the garden gate to a more passionate kiss at the end of evenings when he had taken her to dinner.

Their conversations had grown into those of two lovers, planning their future together. She had assured him she would return when she could leave the family and he had said he would make her his wife when she did, his version of a proposal. He said he was too old to get down on one knee. She accepted him, all the same, and he bought her a beautiful ring, a sapphire surrounded by diamonds. For the first time in years she removed her wedding ring, putting it on her right hand.

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She sat in the living room of Christopher and Ruby's small house, cradling Amelia and wondering what to do.

Lucien's last night in Adelaide had been one of just being together, and they had ended up in his room in the hotel. Miserable at the thought of a long separation, Ruby wasn't coping, at all, Jean had cried. She hadn't wanted to, she wanted him to remember her with a smile on her face but she had and he had kissed her and told her he loved her. The kisses became touches as they explored each other's bodies and they made love, rashly, frantically, as if they would never see each other again. Lucien promised to come and see her whenever he could, and she believed he would.

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She had recently moved into a small cottage close to her son, the one stipulation she had was that there was a phone. She could have long conversations with Lucien without being overheard. These conversations were full of plans and loving words, but back in Ballarat Lucien had a feeling she was keeping something from him.

She looked down at the sleeping child and sighed. Christopher would hit the roof, and she had no idea what Lucien would say when she saw him the next day.

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Jean had refused to book Lucien into a hotel, he could stay with her. They had slept together on his last night so what was the point in living in separate places. Knowing it would be late when he got there he had told her not to meet him, he had the key she had sent him.

She waited up.

Sleep had eluded her lately and in spite of the exhausting days looking after her granddaughter and Ruby she still found it hard to sleep. Crying, however, came easily, too easily. Crying because she was lonely, because she was tired, because she loved Amelia, because Ruby was useless and even worse, neither Christopher nor Ruby noticed how dreadfully sad she was. She wanted Lucien, and yet she was afraid of what he would say, how he would react.

So she sat there on the couch and waited.

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Lucien got out of the taxi and looked at the front of the little cottage. There were already touches of Jean, a hanging basket in the porch, and begonias in the border. He smiled but he was worried. Jean had sounded distant the last time he had spoken to her, she had said she was tired, too old to bring up another family. His heart had ached for her, she was obviously finding it very difficult.

He let himself in as quietly as he could and hung his hat on a peg, next to Jean's coat. Putting his case down he tiptoed into the cottage. There was a light on in the front room so he headed there. Pushing open the door he saw his love. Sitting in a chair staring into space. He stood and looked at her, dark circles round her eyes, pale and she had obviously been crying.

'Jean?' he whispered, but didn't move.

Her head slowly lifted and she looked at him, and in an instant he was by her side, his arms round her, stroking her head as the tears soaked his waistcoat and shirt.

'Darling,' he soothed, 'what is it? Please, tell me.' He kissed the side of her head.

'Oh Lucien,' she hiccupped, 'I'm so sorry, I should have taken more care, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' She repeated over and over again.

He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom and lay her on the bed.

'Don't leave me, please don't leave me,' she sobbed.

'Sh...' He whispered as he checked to see if she had a temperature, but no, something was playing on her mind and she was so desperately tired. He found her pyjamas and helped her change then settled her into bed.

'I'll be right with you, sweetheart.' He kissed her and went to change into his own nightwear.

Slipping in beside her he wrapped his arms round her and kissed her head. She snuggled into him and gradually the sobbing subsided to hiccups and sniffles, until she feel into a deep sleep.

What the hell was happening to his beautiful Jean? He wondered, she was always so stoic, she would shout about things that upset her, him mainly, but to cry and gulp, not sleeping, that wasn't Jean.

The journey had been long and he was tired, holding Jean close he let his eyes close and drifted into sleep.

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Jean slept on through the sunlight sneaking round the curtains. Lucien watched her, having woken at first light. She snuffled and her fingers unconsciously gripped his pyjama top. He kissed her softly and held her just a little bit tighter. She moved then pushed away, rolling over and almost falling out of bed to rush to the bathroom. He sat up, aghast, what..?

He heard her vomit and the flush of the toilet. She came back and held herself up in the door frame. Her hair was a lovely mess, but she was pale, so pale. He leapt out of bed and was at her side, guiding her to the bed.

'Jean?' he whispered, urgently, 'sweetheart.'

She turned her face to him and the tears started again,

'I'm sorry,' she sniffed, 'I'm sorry...'

'Stop, Jean.' He wrapped his arms round her. 'You have to tell me what you're sorry for,' although, after the past few minutes he had a pretty good idea.

The phone started to ring, he ignored it, it was probably Christopher wanting to know where his free nanny was. Her head lifted but he turned it towards him.

'Jean,' he said, softly.

'I'm...' she took a deep breath, more to control the nausea than anything, 'I'm pregnant.' At last she had admitted it, not just to him but to herself as well. In spite of the blood test and the confirmation letter she had refused to believe or think about it, until now.

He smiled, 'Oh, I see.' he couldn't keep the joy out of his voice. 'Well, I'd better make an honest woman out of you, hadn't I?'

'You don't mind?' She gasped, then pushed away and headed back to the bathroom.

Lucien waited for her to return, he didn't like how sick she was, and how tired she looked. She returned, little beads of sweat on her forehead and still very pale. He helped her to bed and held her hands.

'Would you like some tea?' He asked gently.

'Oh, please,' She smiled gratefully, 'it's the only thing that helps.'

Lucien made sure she was comfortable then headed to the small kitchen and put the kettle on. While he waited for it to boil he wondered how easy it would be for them to marry. Jean was distraught enough as it was, the morning sickness didn't help, he felt deep down that if they were married then she would be able to cope better, accept it. True they had been foolish, but he doubted it had occurred to her she would fall pregnant now and he hadn't even considered it, some ruddy doctor he was!

He took a tray of tea into the bedroom and smiled to see her sitting up, but leaning against the pillow.

'Here we are.' He put the tray on the end of the bed and poured her a cup.

As she sipped the tea she began to feel a little more sure. Lucien had been gentle and kind last night and this morning. He hadn't been angry as she though he would be, in fact he seemed pleased. But the fact was she was not married to the father of her baby, she was a widow, a grandmother...and dreadfully tired. She hadn't been this tired with the boys, or as sick. Those were two facts she told Lucien.

'I see.' He held her hand and took her pulse. It seemed ok. 'The tiredness is probably a combination of doing everything for Ruby and being pregnant, and that is more than likely why you're also so sick.'

The phone rang again.

'That'll be Christopher,' she sighed, making to get out of bed. He stopped her,

'I'll deal with that.' He leant forward and kissed her cheek.

'Don't tell him about...' She called after him.

'Mrs Beazley's residence.' she heard him say then a pause.

'I'm sorry, Christopher,' he spoke again, 'but your mother is really not well. You and Ruby will have to cope today, and probably for much of tomorrow.'

There was a pause, longer this time.

'Now you listen to me, young man!' Lucien raised his voice, 'she will be in bed for today, resting. She isn't sleeping, worn out with doing everything for you with little thanks!'

Another pause.

'It's over three months since she gave birth. She should be helping Jean, not sitting back and whining. Oh yes, don't think your mother hasn't told me, she has no one else to talk to. Now, I'm afraid I need to go and see to her.' Lucien put the phone down, not too gently, and went back to see how Jean felt about what she would have undoubtedly have listened to.

In the bedroom Jean leant against the pillows with a small smile playing at her lips. Lucien had told Christopher what she had been thinking but had not been able to say. She looked up as he entered the room.

'Er, hope I didn't over step the mark.' He mumbled.

'No, you said what I wanted to.' Jean held out her hand to him. He took it and kissed her fingers, one by one. '...but, do I have to stay in bed all day?'

'Hmm.' Lucien looked at her, 'maybe not bed, but resting.'

'Thank you.' She sat up and wriggled closer, laying her head against his chest, 'I'd like to have a bath and then something to eat, doctor, if that's alright.'

'I'll run it for you.' He kissed the top of her head and went to see to her bath, smiling. He could spend the day with her, they could discuss their next move, which would involve planning a small wedding, he thought. Jean may want a celebration, he didn't know, he'd leave it to her to lead the way, a quick trip to the Registry Office would be alright with him.

While Jean was in the bath he went to the kitchen and washed the tea things then looked to see what was available for breakfast, and what she could tolerate. There was bacon, but no eggs, bread and butter, in fact he was surprised to see her cupboards so bare. Too tired to even shop for herself. He hoped she'd been eating at Christopher's. He stood outside the bathroom door,

'Jean,' he called, softly, 'can you manage a bacon sarnie?'

'Yes, I think so.' she smiled as she sat in the bath, she had meant to get some more food in yesterday, but by the time she could get out it was too late. She supposed that had been the straw that broke the camel's back, when she finally had to admit defeat.

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Breakfast over and Jean settled on the couch, Lucien headed out with a shopping list and instructions where to get the groceries.

She dozed on and off, dropping her book so often she gave up reading and decided that knitting would probably go the same way, so she allowed moments of sleep wash over her while she worked out what they should do about a wedding. Not a big one, just intimate, the Registry Office, sooner rather than later, she wasn't showing yet, well may be a little, but she could dress to hide it. Some of the new fashions were for straight dresses with little or no shaping, something like that would do. She felt calmer now, Lucien wouldn't abandon her and he would support her against her son's disappointment or anger.

She was just wondering if Lucien would insist she accompany him back home when there was a knock on the door. She never had visitors, well she was never there except to sleep, so it could only be one person, Christopher. Lucien had told him she would be in bed all day so she was glad he had persuaded her not to dress, but to put on clean pyjamas and her robe to lie on the couch. It had taken some doing, it was completely out of character for Jean to lie on the couch during the day, never mind in her nightwear. She got up slowly and went to answer the insistent knock.

Opening the door just enough to see it was Christopher, carrying his daughter, she sighed. She stood aside and let him in.

'Mum,' he looked her up and down. Without her usual make up he could see she was tired and pale. She went back into the living room and sat back down on the couch. Usually she offered tea to her guests but it seemed an effort to even think about it.

They sat in a silence broken only by Amelia's gurgles. At least she was happy. Christopher handed her over to her grandmother. Jean smiled, in six months, or thereabouts, this would be her child in her arms, against her breast, and she began to look forward to that still familiar feeling of nourishing a baby herself.

'I don't know what to do, mum.' Christopher almost moaned, which annoyed his mother.

'I can't sort it out for you, Christopher.' She looked at him, 'you and Ruby have to work together, she has to try harder instead of leaving everything to others.'

'She's not you, mum.' Christopher started to argue.

'I don't expect her to be, I expect her to buck up and get on with it, in her own way.' Jean insisted. She heard the door open and Lucien come back.

'Jean,' he called, 'it's only me.' She smiled as she heard him head to the kitchen to put the shopping down. He put his head round the living room door and looked surprised to see her holding a baby, then he looked round and saw Christopher sitting looking sulky, opposite her. Lucien ignored him and went over to Jean, bending over to kiss her. 'Did you get any more sleep?' He asked.

'On and off,' she admitted, 'I tried to read but kept dropping my book.'

'Tea?'

'Yes please.'

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Christopher left after having some tea. He got no answers from either his mother or the doctor. He supposed she was right, and Ruby didn't try too hard. Seeing his mother look so tired was hard, but who else could he turn to?

'I took the opportunity of going to the Registrar to see how easy it would be for us to get married.' Lucien told her when Christopher left. He hadn't been happy to see the younger man there, fairly sure he was checking up on his mother, seeing if she really was unwell.

'Oh, and...' She smiled and looked hopeful.

'Three days notice. Two witnesses.' He put his arm round her. 'Nothing exciting, or fancy, but we would be man and wife,...if that's alright with you.'

'It's perfectly alright,' she smiled, 'I didn't want a big wedding, and under the circumstances, this would be fine.'

'Well, I expect you to come home with me, afterwards.' he tried to sound masterful, which made Jean laugh for the first time for weeks.

'Yes dear,' she giggled.

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Under Jean's supervision Lucien managed to make a reasonable evening meal but he said he was going to take her out to dinner the following night.

'I really ought to go over to Christopher's.' She murmured over their evening drink, something he had added to the shopping list, as well as some flowers. His thoughtfulness had surprised her, she never took him for a romantic, but then neither was he a particularly practical man, Lucien, she had decided long ago, was just Lucien, unique.

'I'll go with you.' He said putting his arm round her, 'I want them to see how much you do, and how much it affected you. If you go on your own you'll put on a brave face and do far too much.'

'I know, but Lucien, I'm pregnant, not ill.' She pointed out.

'Do you want them to know, about the baby?' He asked.

'No. I don't want them to know until it's here.' She had considered this when Christopher visited earlier, 'I want to marry you, go home and start to build our life together, with this little surprise. Christopher and Ruby have to grow up, they are parents now.'

Lucien looked at her with astonishment, for Jean this was harsh.

'It occurred to me when Christopher was here, how easy it was for him to hand Amelia over to me.' She leant against his shoulder, 'as if he would quite happily walked off and leave her with me. I want to get Ruby into a routine, and then go home. It won't be easy, you are due back in Ballarat in ten days time, that gives us very little time to do everything we have to. Will you help me?'

'Anything you want me to do or say, just let me know.' He tipped her face to him and kissed her lightly. 'First on the agenda should be our wedding.' His determination to do things right and just for her was beginning to amuse her. 'Tomorrow we'll go and fix a date, but we need to find two witnesses. I assume you don't want it to be Christopher and Ruby?'

'Oh, heaven, no!' She gasped. 'They will only work out the reason.'

'The reason we're getting married is that I love you,' he laughed at her, 'and I'm assuming you love me.'

'Of course I do! You know what I mean.' She looked at him, her eyes bright.

'Yes, I know what you mean.' He kissed her nose, 'they'll know about the baby and Christopher will get angry; with both of us; and it will all end up in cross words and tears.'

Jean wrapped her arms around him and snuggled into his chest, 'Precisely,' she mumbled.

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Lucien woke early the following day and slipped out of bed to make tea. He hoped to lessen her morning sickness by getting tea for her before she woke. He returned just as she was stirring, she had slept well wrapped in his arms, and looked the better for it.

'Tea,' he whispered softly, smiling.

'Mm...' She opened her eyes, she felt sick, but not as sick as she had been and she risked sitting up, slowly.

So far so good, she took the cup from Lucien and sipped the hot drink, just as she liked it. She sighed and smiled.

'How are you, this morning?' He asked, stroking her cheek.

'Better, I think.' she kissed the palm of his hand as it passed her mouth, and leant back against the pillows.

'I'll run your bath.' He stood up and bent over to kiss her.

'Thank you.' She felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders and things would start to get better.

They spent the day wandering Adelaide and Jean managed to find a dress she was happy to wear to get married in. That was the one she wouldn't let Lucien see, the two others she chose she let him give his approval of, after all, he insisted on paying. They managed to arrange with the Registrar that they would marry the following Monday. The only problem they had was the witnesses. Having discounted her son and daughter in law they were at a loss to think of someone who could be there.

They finally got round to going to Christopher's after lunch. Lucien did not have high hopes and Jean's were even lower. She knew the house would be in chaos and Ruby less than welcoming. She had promised Lucien that she would not dive in and sort them out, but it would be difficult.

Christopher opened the door, he looked harassed. Jean's heart sank, and it was just as she had thought when they went into the house. How could she leave them like this? She felt Lucien squeeze her elbow, just slightly, a warning not to get 'stuck in'. Christopher led them into the sitting room, magazines spread out over the coffee table, the cushions crushed and a thin layer of dust.

'Tea?' Christopher offered.

'Thank you,' Lucien smiled and guided Jean to a seat, plumping a cushion behind her. She smiled sadly at him.

Ruby was apparently 'resting' so made no appearance. Jean fussed over Amelia but Lucien noticed her sadness. They drank their tea making a little small talk the Lucien dropped what was to Christopher, a bombshell,

'Jean will be returning to Ballarat with me at the end of next week.' He stood up and help out his hand to his fiancée. She smiled and took it. 'I am concerned that this trip has tired her, taken a toll on her health.'

'Mum is never ill,' Christopher blustered.

'No?' Lucien raised his eyebrows, 'then how was it that when I came to visit she was exhausted, tearful and sick?'

'Er...' Christopher couldn't answer that.

'Time for you and Ruby to grow up,' Lucien escorted Jean out, 'you are parents now, and Ruby is not ill, just lazy. We'll see you in a couple of days.'

Christopher watched them leave, his mother leaning on the doctor, his arm round her waist. He had to admit she didn't look as well as she usually did.

As they rounded the corner out of sight of the house Jean looked up at Lucien, tears in her eyes.

'Lucien,' she whispered.

'Jean, we agreed,' He stopped and turned to her, 'you already look tired, I know it's because you're worried about them but it won't do any of you any good. What did you do, when you had Christopher?'

'Got on with it.' She agreed, 'I had no one to lean on, except my husband.'

'So must Ruby.' He squeezed her, 'and she will. When you're ready you can come and see them and they can come and see us, but you can't keep picking up the pieces we leave;' She looked at him 'yes I do mean me as well, it's time for us to step up to the mark and support you. As you rightly said you are not ill, just pregnant, but you will be if you carry on like this.'

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So will Jean be able to leave Christopher and Ruby, and how will Ballarat react when she returns as Mrs Blake?