Sometime after Mei Lin's departure, the gossips and rumour mongers finally get to Jean. Well surely she can't suffer in silence forever, can she?
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Shopping had become harder. Each time Jean went to the butcher's or the green grocer's or anywhere in town the whispers got worse. There had always been those who were sure she and the doctor were sleeping together, almost as soon as he had come home. Initially it had been relatively easy to ignore, especially while Lucien was still looking for his family, even the gossips reasoned the upright, church going Jean Beazley would not sleep with a married man, but things started to change once it became common knowledge Mei Lin's death had been reported
Most of the time Jean just smiled sweetly and got on with whatever she was doing, shopping, paying bills, all the while knowing the truth. Lucien Blake had not laid a finger on her nor she on him. They were employer and employee, nothing more. Well, they were friends, certainly, she did the books for the business and arranged the appointments, and provided insight into the goings on in Ballarat; but absolutely nothing more, at first.
It was true they had become closer especially after she had spent some time in Adelaide looking after her new granddaughter, but they were not lovers in the full sense of the word. They were in love, but treading carefully, each trying to find out what the other wanted, yet both wanting the same.
Then it had happened. Lucien was about to propose marriage, a proposal she would be happy to accept; but Mei Lin had turned up at the house, it was almost as if she had prior knowledge of Lucien's intentions towards his housekeeper.
In the ensuing weeks, she and Lucien had tried so hard to distance themselves from each other, and then Mei Lin had stayed in a hotel and she had stayed in the house, which the gossips in Ballarat had a field day with. Then Derek had been murdered, Sullivan killed by Hannam and the truth about Alderton's plan to use Mei Lin to get Blake back in the army had been uncovered. Mei Lin had realised that she and Lucien could never go back to being husband and wife, too much time had passed, he no longer loved her, he loved Jean and so she had said they should each go their own ways.
So Lucien had started divorce proceedings, the photographs Rose had taken of Mei Lin in the Botanic Gardens were to be used as evidence of Mei Lin's infidelity, she had bravely agreed to this. Jean. she had said, was too nice a person to be named in a divorce, and as she had committed adultery with Derek in the past she admitted it for the purpose of the divorce. As she was returning to China to see Li, she would not have to bear the gossip in Ballarat.
Now, while they waited for the divorce to become final Jean had to run the gauntlet of gossip every time she went to do some shopping. Sometimes she took the car so she could be in and out of town quickly, but there was always someone to pass a remark about the breaking up of perfectly good marriages, of housekeepers getting above themselves.
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It had been a particularly trying morning. The patient list had been long, some of the patients passed one or two acid remarks about Jean, but not in front of Lucien. The vacuum cleaner had become blocked and she couldn't work out how, somehow she had run out of tea, and she had no idea when Lucien would be back from the station, having been called out after morning surgery.
Jean took the bus into town, she needed to get meat and groceries for the next two days or so. She went into town less often and bought to last for more days than she had in the past. She used to shop most days. then everything was fresh, but not now, now it was too trying.
Nobody spoke to her on the bus, in fact they made a point of ignoring her, but that was fine, at least they didn't make nasty comments.
She had bought everything she needed, smiling sweetly as usual when someone made a vicious remark, gritting her teeth, inwardly seething. She was far too tired to put up with it. Standing in the queue for the bus she heard two women behind her whispering.
'Well, I think it's dreadful,' one said to the other, 'the way she stayed in the house while his wife stayed in a hotel.'
'Exactly,' the other replied, 'and now expecting him to divorce his wife just so she can have him. They must be sleeping together; have you see the way they look at each other? Disgraceful.'
Jean whirled round, boiling with anger. She stared at the two women, both regular churchgoers.
'And I suppose you know all about it, do you? You have never had to work for a living, never had to bring up two boys alone. You know absolutely nothing about my life or my relationship with Dr Blake!' She almost spat the words. 'You... you sanctimonious pair of witches!'
The others in the queue stared in utter disbelief, Mrs Beazley losing her temper in public!
'For someone who attends church every Sunday, you show a remarkable lack of Christian charity!' She finished off.
Jean turned and stormed off, she wasn't going to get on the bus, she couldn't be sure she wouldn't say more and embarrass herself completely by bursting into tears.
She found herself at the station, Lucien's car was there. She strode in, still seething from the scene at the bus stop. In the office all heads turned to see her, still slightly pink from her outburst and the speed at which she had walked. Charlie could see she was not happy. Lucien looked up, but before he could say anything,
'Lucien,' she asked, sharply, 'I'd like a lift home please.'
'Er', he saw she was angry and decided that it was better to take her home than discuss it in front of the men, 'yes, of course.'
Taking one of her baskets from her he ushered her out and into the car.
She sat stony faced in the car, not daring to speak unless she broke down. Lucien, for his part, knew exactly why Jean was so. She had confided in him that the gossip was becoming wearing. It looked like it had finally got too much, and for him it hurt. It hurt that Jean was hurting, that Jean had to run this gauntlet so often, that no one would speak the same words to him. The blame was always laid at Jean's feet.
And yet she was the least to blame, she had done nothing wrong, nothing at all.
They pulled up at the house and Lucien got out, moving round to the passenger side he opened the door for Jean and took the baskets off the back seat. At the door she could not keep her hands from shaking as she tried to put the key in the door. Lucien gently placed a hand over hers and took the key, unlocking the door and allowing her to precede him.
In the hall she tore off her gloves and threw them down onto the table, stalking into the kitchen where she finally stood, gripping the edge of the sink.
Lucien put the shopping to the table and went over to her. He stood for a millisecond looking at her shaking shoulders, before finally putting his arms around her and holding her tight.
Jean buried her face in his chest sobbing with anger and frustration. She could not understand why these people, formerly her friends, could say such things about her and Lucien. Any unkind thoughts she had about anyone she had always been taught to keep to herself, and she had. But the ladies of Ballarat had decided they could voice their disapproval openly, virtually ruining her reputation.
'Jean,' Lucien said softly, 'what happened?'
'I lost my temper,' she hiccupped. 'I lost my temper in public, Lucien, I let myself down.'
'Tell me,' he entreated. 'Tell me how it happened, sweetheart. Why did you lose your temper?'
'So much whispering, ' she sniffed, 'in the butcher's and green grocer's and finally at the bus stop.' She looked into his eyes, so sad at her despair, 'I said some things which were not nice to two of your patients; I called them a pair of, of sanctimonious witches. I said that for regular church goers they showed a remarkable lack of Christian charity.'
Lucien hid his little smile from her, 'a pair of sanctimonious witches!', an interesting description of two gossips, his patients too!
'You constantly amaze me at your fortitude. How you have not reacted openly to their taunts, you've told me how it hurts, but you have never broken. You have not let yourself down, Jean, far from it, it is they that have let themselves down.' Lucien guided her to the couch in the sitting room and he sat holding her close, her head on his chest, her sobs reduced to sniffs, and he kissed her head gently, then her cheek, then, tipping her head upwards, lightly on the lips. It was all he could do for the time being, but he was going to find a way to let Ballarat know Jean Beazley was in no way to blame for the end of his marriage.
'Shall I make some tea?' he asked quietly, trying to make her feel as if everything was normal.
'I'd like that,' she murmured, 'thank you.' She managed a weak smile, before rising from her, rather comfortable, position, and going to wash her face.
She returned, still a little red-eyed, but more composed.
Lucien had laid a tray of tea and set it on the coffee table in the lounge and was sitting waiting for her. He rose as she entered the room, it was these little courtesies that had first endeared him to Jean, before she allowed herself to fall in love with him. They came together in an soft embrace, Lucien kissing her forehead.
As she sat next to him on the couch, he wanted to ask which of his patients had decided it was a good idea to insult his onetime housekeeper/receptionist and now the woman he had asked to marry him.
'I expect you'd like to know who I offended,' Jean offered, before he could find a way to form the question sensitively.
'Well, I was wondering who would no longer require my services.' he smiled.
'It was Mrs Steadman and Mrs Wild,' she told him, looking down, embarrassed. They had been patients for most of their lives, certainly most of their married lives. They were sisters, lifelong residents of Ballarat. They had moved to the Blake practice when Mrs Steadman was newly married, having fallen out with their other GP.
'Hmm,' Lucien wondered, going to the surgery.
'What are you doing?' Jean followed him.
'Just checking something.' He pulled out a file and started flicking through it, 'ah yes, here it is.' He showed her a page, the record of a birth to Mr and Mrs Steadman, and the details of the pregnancy.
'It says here she came to your father about a blood test for pregnancy in the January, which proved positive, and her baby was born in the June.' Jean carried on reading, there was no doubt in Thomas Blake's mind that the baby was full term, but she had only been married six months. Jean was surprised Thomas had noted the discrepancy, but then if the child was ill he could at least say there was had been problem with the birth.
'So, Jean,' Lucien smiled a secret, almost sinister smile, 'it would appear that Mrs Steadman is no better than she ought to be. Shotgun wedding?'
Jean looked at him in surprise, 'You would use this to, to shut her up?'
'I do believe she has an appointment this afternoon.' Lucien remarked, 'I may drop it into the conversation.'
'Lucien, you can't!' Jean was aghast he would do this.
'Yes I can Jean. You are completely blameless in the breakup of my marriage. You have done nothing wrong, ever, as far as I'm aware, so yes I will make sure that you can walk round Ballarat without having to suffer such vitriol.' Lucien bent down and kissed her, on the lips, deeply and decisively. He walked back to the surgery to put the file ready for surgery later. Jean just stared at him, opened mouthed.
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Surgery started at two as usual. The first few patients were not the ones who regularly made snide comments about Jean, which gave her time to think about how she was going to greet Mrs Steadman. In the end she decided she would be her usual professional self, with the smile plastered on her face.
In due course Mrs Steadman arrived, on time as always. She barely nodded to Jean who greeted her with a 'Good afternoon, Mrs Steadman,' a fixed smile on her face, 'Dr Blake will be with you shortly.' And she showed the woman into the waiting room.
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'Ah Mrs Steadman, sit, please. Now let me see, yes, blood pressure first I think.' Lucien was nothing more than his usual affable self. The caring country doctor, ever approachable. He took her blood pressure, checked her weight, listened to her lungs, just the usual check up.
'Everything seems to be fine, although your blood pressure is a little higher than I would like. However, that is easily remedied.' He smiled sweetly
'Really, Dr Blake.' She answered.
'I believe my receptionist was a little, shall we say, brusque this morning, Mrs Steadman, ' Lucien said.
'Oh doctor, you shouldn't apologise for Mrs Beazley,' she replied, blandly.
'Oh I'm not apologising for her, far from it.' Lucien replied, 'I believe she had reason to be sharp. Remember Mrs Beazley, records and files any reports and results that come into the surgery, always has. She knows dates of births, marriages and deaths of the majority of the patients that have come through this surgery both in my time and my father's time.' He smiled innocently, continuing, 'she is, of course, extremely discreet, but some things slip occasionally. Not that Mrs Beazley could ever be called a gossip.' He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers together, smiling benevolently.
Mrs Steadman looked at Dr Blake, realisation dawned. Mrs Beazley had told him what had been said and now they could reveal that her son was conceived out of wedlock and she would become the subject of the type of sniping she was guilty of against Mrs Beazley. She could only sit and stare open mouthed at him, and she couldn't blame Jean Beazley, not really.
'Good day to you, Mrs Steadman,' Lucien stood and held out his hand. She could only shake his hand and leave the surgery, she couldn't think of anything to say. Jean showed her out, smiling as usual, but when she closed the door she leant against it and breathed a sigh of relief. It was no use Mrs Steadman moving to another practice, Jean and Lucien knew the truth about the facts surrounding her son's birth, so Jean was sure they had not lost a patient.
Lucien went to see how Jean was. She was a little pale he thought, but her relief showed in her face.
'I heard, Lucien,' she said, moving towards him, 'thank you. Although I'm not sure it was the best thing to do. But maybe she will think on next time she has to talk about me or anyone else.' She reached her hand up and drew his face to hers. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go and kissed her, passionately.
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The fact that Jean would be able to get her hands on information about Lucien's patients, I have always felt, would be a good reason not to spread malicious rumour and gossip. And it was about time Jean reacted with a bit of fire!