The Blake Adventures: Family Ties
January 1966
"Valerie," Lucien said sharply, making his daughter pause with her hand on the doorknob. "You know you're not supposed to disturb your mother," he reminded her.
The five-year-old took her hand away and turned. "I just want to go see her," she said in a small, sad voice.
"I know, darling girl. But Mummy is very tired and needs to rest."
"She's always tired."
"Well, she just had a baby. It's tiring work. She and Johnny need to rest."
"Was Mummy like this when I was born too?"
Lucien didn't quite know how to fully explain to his daughter, but he did his best to keep things in abstract. "No, but you were born differently than Johnny was," he told her, not wanting to go into too much detail surrounding the emergency cesarean section he himself had performed to save his wife and son. "And Mummy is much older now, so being pregnant was a lot more work," he added.
Valerie's little brow furrowed in slight confusion. "Oh."
"You go downstairs and watch television for a little while. Just not too loud. I'll talk to Mummy and see if maybe she can come have lunch with us later, alright?"
That plan seemed acceptable to Valerie, so the little girl brushed past her father and went down the stairs. Lucien went to the closed bedroom door and knocked softly before entering.
"Jean, darling," he called gently. "May I join you for a little while?"
A quiet moan came from the bed. Lucien took off his shoes and climbed on top of the bed to lay beside his wife. She immediately turned and nestled herself right against him.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"The same," Jean replied weakly.
Lucien's heart absolutely ached for her. After being in the hospital recovering from surgery for weeks, they'd finally gotten to bring Jean and Johnny home. But the trauma of it all and the rapid hormonal change had sent Jean reeling. It had been three months since they'd brought their little Johnny Blake into the world, and while he was a perfect baby—though very small from his premature delivery—Jean had yet to adjust back to motherhood of a newborn. She was exhausted and depressed all the time. Some days, like today, she couldn't even get out of bed. Lucien did his best to manage everything around the house, but it was difficult looking after Valerie and Jean and Johnny and his patients and working as police surgeon.
It also didn't help that their household had gone through so many changes. Both Charlie and Mattie had moved out in the three months since Johnny's birth. Charlie and Rose had moved to Melbourne together; he'd been promoted in the state police and she had gotten a position at a news magazine. Mattie was still living in Ballarat, for the time being, but she was now renting a place closer to the Ballarat Teachers College, where she was working as head of the campus nursing center. She came to visit the children on weekends, but Lucien was finding it difficult to no longer have her assistance at the house.
"It's nearly lunchtime. Would you like me to bring you something?" Lucien asked softly, rubbing soothing circles on his wife's back.
"Is it really so late already? You should have gotten me up!"
"You just rest, darling," he replied.
But Jean shifted, sitting up in bed. Her head felt woozy and far too heavy for her body. She brought her knees up to her chest and let her head rest on her forearms as she hugged her legs. "I need to look after the children." Her voice was muffled.
"It's alright. I gave Johnny a bottle about an hour ago. He's perfectly happy in his nursery, but I'll check on him again in a minute. And Valerie wanted to come up and see you, but I sent her downstairs to let you rest. You need your rest, Jean. Your body needs to recover."
"I don't think my body is the problem anymore," she replied sadly.
Lucien sighed and gently kissed her cheek. "I know, my darling. I know."
Their quiet moment was interrupted by the telephone ringing downstairs. Lucien gave her one more soft kiss and got up to answer it. Jean knew she needed to get up and do something with her day. She knew it, and yet she still couldn't quite bring herself to make a move. The crippling sadness that lay like a weight around her neck seemed to only leave her while she slept. And so she slept as much as she possibly could. She wanted to be with her children. She wanted to cook for her family. She wanted to hold Johnny in her arms and feed him from her breast, and she wanted to read stories to Valerie and make her new clothes from fabric purchased months before. More than anything, Jean wanted to feel like herself again, to feel like a proper wife and mother and not this failure she had somehow become. Lucien had told her to be patient with herself, since the pregnancy and the surgery and the recovery was all quite a shock to her system, and as a doctor, he might know. But knowing rationally that she needed to give herself time was very different than what she felt every moment of every day for the last three months.
A few minutes later, the bedroom door opened again. Lucien returned to her side, but put on his shoes instead of getting back onto the bed for a cuddle. "I'm so sorry, Jean, I've got to go. Frank called, there's a body behind the Gold Rush Pub."
"Of course. You go, love," she replied. "Don't worry about me. We'll be fine here."
"I always worry about you, Jeanie, but I also know that you'll all be fine. But if there's anything you need, just call the police station and they'll get ahold of me."
"Thank you."
And with that, Lucien dashed out of the house. Jean wanted to fall back into bed and pull the covers over her head, but she knew she shouldn't. But she also wasn't quite able to get up. So she sat there, paralyzed and staring unseeingly at the wall.
A while later—Jean wasn't sure how long—a knock came at the door, followed by the muffled sound of "Mummy?"
Jean was jolted to reality and heard the noises emanating from outside her bedroom. She was up in a flash, shoving her feet in to slippers and throwing her dressing gown on as she opened the door. "Yes, sweet girl?"
"Mummy, I'm so sorry, Daddy said not to bother you and you need your rest, only Johnny started crying and I didn't know what to do and I tried to shush him but he just kept crying and I'm sorry Mummy!" Valerie blubbered. Her words were hitched with the sobs she tried to suppress and she was blinking back the tears shining in her shockingly blue eyes.
"Shh, it's alright, Valerie, everything's fine. You did just the right thing," Jean said soothingly, wrapping her arms around her daughter. "Thank you for coming to get me."
"But Daddy said you need your rest."
"And I do," Jean conceded, "But you and Johnny need me to be your mum. So let's go see what your brother needs, eh?"
Jean took Valerie's little hand and walked down the hall to Charlie's old room, just across from Jean's old bedroom, which was now Valerie's room. Sure enough, baby Johnny was wailing his tiny head off. And in some strange way, it made Jean smile.
"Come here, Johnny," she cooed, reaching into the bassinet for her infant son. "What's wrong? What can Mummy do?"
Johnny just kept crying. She didn't like seeing her son distressed, certainly, but his cries meant he was alive and his lungs were strong. Being born so early, literally ripped from her body to save them both, Jean still worried about him. She worried about all her children, still. Christopher and his family travelling all over the country wherever the army stationed him. Jack doing god knows what in god knows where. Valerie growing up with parents who were old enough to have grandchildren of their own. And now Johnny, the last of Jean's children, this beautiful little Blake that she and Lucien had created against all odds and their own better judgment.
"Does he need his nappy changed?" Valerie asked.
"Yes, he does." Jean could feel the dampness where she held her son. She carried him over to the changing table. "Valerie, would you like to help?"
"Okay, Mummy."
"Alright, please get a clean nappy from the drawer over there, and wet the flannel in the bathroom for me," Jean instructed. Again, she smiled. Her little girl was frightfully clever and always eager to learn and assist in whatever way she could. And having any assistance in caring for a baby was rather new to Jean. She'd cared for her first child on her own while Christopher was hard at work on the farm. Christopher Jr. had been too young to help when Jack was born. Mattie, being a nurse, was able to do things for Valerie without needing instruction. Jean rather liked being able to teach these things to Valerie now. And with the way she'd been feeling, she needed all the help she could get.
Jean went about cleaning Johnny and putting a fresh nappy on him, explaining each step to Valerie as she did it and answering all her questions. By the time they were finished, Johnny had calmed down, and he was back to being the sweet, happy baby he usually was.
"Shall we all have some lunch now?" Jean asked her children. Only one of them—the one old enough to speak—answered in the affirmative. But Johnny's little smile seemed to indicate his agreement.
A part of Jean hated the idea of going downstairs and cooking a meal while dressed in her pyjamas, but she didn't want to go through the hassle of getting properly dressed. She'd barely managed to get out of bed before noon. This was the best she could do for today.
Their luncheon was made with relative ease. Jean and Valerie talked and sang songs while Jean did the cooking and Valerie sat with Johnny nestled in her arms. Jean took over holding the baby while they both ate their sandwiches but gave him back to Valerie when it was time to clean up. At one point, Jean looked over to see Valerie gently stroking her brother's golden curls and murmuring softly to him, and Jean began to cry with the beauty and perfection of the scene she witnessed. Had the phone not rung again, she might have devolved into a sobbing mess.
"Doctor Blake's surgery," she answered, clearing the lump from her throat.
"Hello my darling, I just called to check in on you. How's everything going?" Lucien asked.
"We're all doing just fine here. Valerie helped me change Johnny's nappy and then we all came downstairs for lunch. We were just finishing when you called. How are things on your end?" she asked her husband.
"I'm in the morgue with Alice. She sends you her best. Our victim was strangled, poor chap."
"Oh how awful."
"Yes. He didn't have any identification on him, but Peter found a wallet in the bins beside where the body was found, and Frank did the death knock. Man by the name of Winston Hicks."
"He used to work at the butcher's years ago. Did deliveries for me here when your father wanted to host a dinner party. I haven't seen the man in years."
"Well, he's lying on a slab in the morgue now."
"He was married, wasn't he? Had two sons?"
Lucien smiled. Leave it to Jean. She had a memory like no other. Hadn't seen the man in years but still remembered his family. "Yes, sons John and Timothy. Wife Meredith."
Jean hummed, vaguely remembering the Hicks family. "I'll leave you to it, then. Thank you for calling. Will you be home for dinner?"
"I imagine so," he replied. "Shall I pick up something on my way?"
"I think I can manage. But thank you," she said softly. The consideration of her dear husband still surprised her sometimes. She was quite lucky, she knew.
"Alright, I'll see you later, darling. I love you."
Jean smiled. "I love you, too." She hung up the phone and felt an unfamiliar lightness within her. Maybe everything would be alright.
