Jean had always said Jack would never come back to Ballarat. The last time he'd shown up he'd been accused of murder and had got in with some low-life's. His pregnant girlfriend had been involved in shoot out and had lost his baby. He'd left, left his mother in tears and in the arms of her employer, Dr Lucien Blake. But she'd moved on, from that first embrace in the sunroom hers and Lucien's lives had turned a corner and after turmoil and treachery they were now man and wife. She was happier than she had been for years, she had a loving husband, and adorable granddaughter, and although she missed Jack she didn't dwell on it.

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But come back he did. There he stood on the doorstep, hesitant, untidy, looking scared.

Jean took a sharp intake of breath, 'Jack.' she gasped.

'Hullo, mum,' Jack managed a lopsided grin, but it was a bit half-hearted, he looked over his shoulder, 'can I come in?'

She stepped to one side, thinking this was not a good idea, he was running from someone or something. What had he done this time?

'Come into the kitchen, I'll make you some tea. Are you hungry? When did you last eat?'

'I'm not stopping, mum, your husband wouldn't like it.' He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

'Why do you hate him so?' she asked, softly, sadly.

'Why do you think? He accused me of murder!' He snapped back.

Jean sat down opposite him, 'He was just doing his job, and you did nothing to dissuade him or the police, did you?' She held out her hands to him, across the table, 'Jack, what's wrong?'

'You don't need to know.' He growled. 'I just need some money, enough to get out of Victoria at least.'

'What have you done?' She was insistent now, she certainly wasn't going to hand over money just so he could disappear, run away from whatever or whoever it was that was chasing him.

'I said, you don't need to know!' He stood up and shouted at her and he knew that shouting at his mother never got the reaction he wanted.

'You are still my son!' She stood in front of him, he was so tall, she had forgotten that, preferring to think of him as the little tearaway from her memories of happier times with her sons. Her eyes glistened with tears but Jack had long since lost any compassion he had for anyone, not even his mother.

'Just give me some money, you must be able to afford it, he makes enough!' Jack was angry now, he'd thought he'd be able to walk over his mother, forgetting how strong she was, thinking marriage would have made her soft.

'No! Lucien works hard for his money,' she informed him, 'maybe you should try working. I didn't bring you up to scrounge off others.' She was angry, she'd tried so hard with her sons and even though they were both so different in temperament she had hoped they'd both grow up to be responsible people. But somehow she'd failed with Jack. Lucien had always said Jack was welcome there, but she had always known that wouldn't happen. Even now, he wouldn't stay.

'Oh, so you're comfortable, it doesn't matter about the rest of us!' Jack yelled in her face, towering over her he was rather intimidating, but she would not back down, 'All you have to do is cook his meals and warm his bed!'

Jean was aghast, 'How dare you talk to me like that!'

Jack raised his hand to slap her but his wrist was caught in a vice like grip as he was spun round to face Dr Blake, and feel his right fist connect with his chin and he fell to the floor. He was still conscious.

'How dare you raise your hand to your mother!' Lucien was furious, 'Who the hell do you think you are?' As he went to drag the young man to his feet Jean shouted,

'Lucien! No!'

Lucien held his hand out to keep her away and continued to drag Jack up and push him into the armchair in the living room. He pulled Jean to him,

'Are you alright?' His eyes were full of concern for her.

'Yes,' she choked, she could not believe her son was about to hit her. Tears stung her eyes, where, oh where had she gone wrong? She felt, and was grateful for, Lucien's strong arms around her.

'Right, young man,' Lucien stood in front of the shaken Jack, 'What do you think you are doing? You show up here and threaten your mother, who has never thought anything bad about you. She always thinks she can save you, but, frankly you appear to be beyond redemption. So, come on, now is the time to speak before I throw you out, with or without her permission!'

Jack stared at this man, effectively his step-father, and was dumfounded.

'Err...' but before he could speak there was a loud, angry knock at the front door.

'Beazley! Get out here and face me!' A very angry man called through, 'you bastard!'

Jean stepped forward but was held back by her husband.

'No, Jean,' Lucien held her shoulders, 'I'll answer it.' The looking at Jack, 'Don't you dare move from that spot!'

Lucien opened the door to a man about his age, a farmer, by the look of him, carrying a shotgun! He held his hands up in submission.

'I believe you have an issue with my step-son?' He asked, mildly.

'Jack Beazley is your step-son?' The farmer queried.

'Well, I married his mother, so, yes I suppose that makes me his step-father.' Lucien said impassively.

'That little bastard has ruined my daughter, and now he won't marry her.' The man was so disappointed in both of them, his daughter and Jack. Lucien blamed it on the lack of education either in school or that fact that mothers (and fathers) didn't explain to their offspring the facts of life. OK Jack's father had died before he could have 'that talk' with his son but... He remembered his father had struggled, but as a doctor at least he had the courage to brooch the subject.

Lucien took a step forward and held out his hand for the shotgun. 'Come inside, and let's talk. You, me, Jack and his mother.' Lucien was gentle, after all he had a daughter and although she was married, with a child, could well understand if that had happened to Li.

The man's shoulders drooped. He was defeated, Lucien thought, and he felt for him.

Jean had heard everything. She couldn't believe Jack hadn't learnt his lesson from the last time. Twice he had played with fire and twice he had got burnt. Now there was a chance she was going to have a second grandchild that she wasn't sure was wanted. She glared at her son.

'Jack,' she whispered, but he just shrugged his shoulders making her even more angry, 'is that why you wanted to run away?' He looked down. 'What on earth is wrong with you? Running away, I am so disappointed in you.'

'Disappointed,' he muttered, 'is that all?'

'What do you want me to say? I don't hate you, I just don't like that you think you can just run away when things don't go your way. I love you, Jack, you are my son, but I don't like what you do.'

Lucien came into the living room followed by the big, burly farmer, but without the shotgun.

'Jean,' he indicated the man, 'this is Mr Wilson. His daughter, Ruth, is expecting Jack's baby.'

'Mr Wilson,' Jean employed a sweet smile and held out her hand. What could she say?

'Mrs ?' Lucien hadn't introduced himself.

'Blake,' she smiled again, 'this is my husband, Dr Blake.'

He nodded to the doctor, he'd heard of him but used Dr King in Ballarat.

'Your son...,' he started, but she stopped him.

'I know, I heard.' She looked almost stern, 'but, it takes two to make a baby and although Jack should have know better, your daughter did let him...'

'She's fifteen!' Mr Wilson yelled, 'What would she know?'

'Jack!' Jean was furious, 'What in God's name did you think you were doing?!' She put her head in her hands.

Jack just sat there in sullen silence, he'd blown it this time.

'What do you want to do, Mr Wilson?' asked Lucien, he was not sure a shotgun wedding was the answer, it wouldn't last and Ruth would end up bringing up the child alone, or being forced to have it adopted.

'He should marry her.' Mr Wilson stated with certainty.

'What does Ruth want?' Jean asked, the girl's needs were important, too.

'It's not up to her.'

Men! thought Jean, 'Actually, I think it is. She has to live with it as does Jack, so what does she want? Have you asked her?'

'No,' he snapped, 'either they marry or she puts the baby up for adoption.'

'Mum,' Jack started to speak, 'It was a fling, I didn't know it would happen the first time.'

Jean spun round and slapped her son, hard across the face. 'You didn't think it would happen the first time? How many times do you think it takes?! A fling with a fifteen year old? You are not a child, Jack, you should think!'

Jack was stunned, she had never struck him before, and although he could see she regretted it, for once he knew he deserved it.

'Do you intend to do the right thing, Jack?' asked Lucien, shocked at his wife's response, but impressed all the same.

'I don't want to marry her,' he admitted, 'I couldn't provide for her and a child, I have no work.'

Jean just looked at the floor and shook her head. Lucien's heart broke for her.

'Does Ruth want the child?' She asked Mr Wilson, softly.

'She refuses to have it adopted,' he grunted, 'I won't have the little bastard in the house.'

Jean motioned to Lucien that she would like to talk in private. They moved to the study.

'Lucien,' she touched his arm, 'I know what Jack had done is wrong, I am so very disappointed in him, and I in no way condone his actions, but we need to do something about the baby. '

'I'm listening,' but he thought he knew what she was going to suggest.

'How would you feel...'

'If we adopted it?'

'Lucien!' she was aghast at his perception, 'would you mind? I mean ...'

'Jack is not responsible enough to care for a child, Ruth is too young and would be sent away to one of the mother and baby units, her father doesn't want anything to do with the baby, so, yes why not?' He pulled her close, loving her thoughtfulness. The idea of bringing up her grandchild as her own was so unselfish, and so right. They walked out into the living room.

'When is the baby due?' Jean asked, matter-of-factly.

'Err... six months I think, she isn't showing yet.' Mr Wilson grunted, that was all he got out of Ruth. He only knew she was expecting because she was suffering from morning sickness and his wife had had to tell him what was wrong with their daughter.

'I have discussed this with my husband and we are prepared to adopt the child and bring it up as our own.' Jean was clear in her mind this was the right thing and the only thing that could be done.

'Why would you do that? You don't know us.' He was shocked at her suggestion. He wanted the right thing to be done by his daughter.

'Well, the baby is my grandchild, my son is not capable of providing for a child or supporting a wife at this time (or any time if this is anything to go by, she thought) and I won't see any member of my family in an orphanage. We can provide for a child, it will be loved and cared for.' Jean stood looking at Mr Wilson with her hands on her hips, almost, Lucien thought, daring him to say no.

'Won't people find out?' He asked, his daughter's name would be dragged through the mud.

'Probably, gossip gets round Ballarat like a plague.' Jean agreed, 'I know, I've had to suffer it.'

'We could arrange for her to give birth in a private clinic, no-one would need to know where the baby came from.' Lucien stepped in, he didn't want to see the girl ruined, but he knew what he'd like to do to Jack! And without an anaesthetic!

'Who's going to pay for that, I can't afford a private clinic?' Mr Wilson snapped.

'I only suggested it because I know one, in Melbourne, and I will pay for it.' Lucien was adamant, if he and Jean were going to give this baby a home it would get the best care he could afford. 'She will have to go there at about seven months, Jean will accompany her, and return with your daughter and the baby.'

'I'll not have her in the house when she starts to show!' Mr Wilson was sure that Ruth would be seen and be talked about.

'As soon as she starts to show she can come here,' Jean offered, 'she can stay until we take her to Melbourne.' Honestly, did this man want the problem sorted or did he just want to put shotgun pellets through her son. 'We have offered to take in the child, pay your daughter's medical bills and now shelter her until she goes to have the baby. I think we have been generous enough to you. I suggest you go and talk it through with your wife and Ruth' She was beginning to get angry now.

'And what about him?' he gestured angrily at Jack, sitting in the armchair watching his problem being swept away by his mother and Lucien.

'We'll deal with him,' Jean said tersely, and Jack then realised he wasn't going to get off scot free.

Lucien escorted the irate father to the door while Jean stood in front of Jack, looking down at him, her arms folded with a look on her face that even Lucien would run from. She was absolutely furious with him and he was going to find out just how mad she was over the next few days, because she was not going to let him walk out of the house thinking he had got away with it.

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Jean gave him a meal, he was not to sit down with them, and sent him to her old room. She knew she was treating him like a child, but he acted like one and at the moment it was the only way she could deal with him. She needed to talk to Lucien about him, what they were going to do with him. She was afraid he would go on and produce a string of illegitimate grandchildren, expecting her to take care of them.

Charlie came in as usual to a frosty atmosphere, he thought Lucien had upset Jean but noticed how close they were, so something else had happened. He wanted to ask but, on balance, thought it would be better if he waited for them to volunteer any information. They were speaking in low voices when he went into the kitchen, and he thought he'd be better off out of the way, when Jean saw him.

'No, Charlie,' she saw him head to the stairs. 'Please, come in.'

'I don't want to intrude,' he hesitated.

'Actually, Charlie,' Lucien said, 'we'd like your insight.'

The sat round the kitchen table, Jean and Lucien had decided that Charlie may be able to help in some way, and he lived there, so should be apprised of the situation.

'My son, Jack, has turned up, in trouble, again.' Jean found it painful to admit, but she took a deep breath and told him what had happened that afternoon. They told him they were sure what they wanted to do as regards the baby but did not know quite what to do with Jack. Jean admitted, tearfully, that she didn't want him living there for long.

'You could encourage him to enlist in the army, the discipline might do him good.' By 'encourage' Charlie meant get the papers, fill them out and make him sign on the dotted line.

'I don't think the army deserve that,' Lucien said, trying to lighten the situation, 'I think some hard physical work would do him good. Something to make him too tired to keep him from preying on the local girls.'

'How about building work?' Charlie suggested, 'It's hard graft and he could get a room in a boarding house, if you want him out of the house. Or farming. Some farms have bunkhouses don't they?'

'I'd like...' Jean took a very deep breath, and in a shaky voice said, 'I'd like him out of Ballarat, preferably in another state.' Tears trickled down her face.

Lucien looked at her in shock, she leant on his shoulder, 'I can't take him being here, not until he has sorted himself out. I love him, Lucien, I'll always love him, he's my son, but I just don't like him.'

Lucien held her very tight, he understood, at least he thought he did, a mother's love is unconditional, but it does not override common decency. And Jack had overridden common decency.

'Leave it with me,' Charlie said, 'I'll make some calls in the morning.'

'Who to?'

'The forces round the country always know of work going, sometimes they advise young men who have transgressed to go to farms or building sites where they know labourers are needed, rather than locking them up It gives them a second chance. I'll see if anyone knows of anything going, out of state.' He stretched over the table and squeezed Jean's hand.

'Thank you,' Jean smiled, sadly, knowing she was effectively banning her son from her home. Even though Lucien had said, oh so long ago, it was her home so therefore it was also his home.

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Two days came and went. Jean gave Jack gardening work to do. She found furniture that needed moving and any heavy work in the house. He was fed but she insisted he did his own laundry. As he had turned up in the clothes he stood up in she bought him some new underwear, three shirts and a spare pair of trousers, but told him she expected him to pay for them when he was working. Jack knew he couldn't do anything but obey his mother, she would turn him out on the street if he didn't. The little boy had returned, compliant and obedient, otherwise he would feel those shotgun pellets in his backside.

Jean hated it. She hated treating her grown son as a naughty child, but that was what he was, or that was what he acted like.

Lucien, for the most part, ignored him. He was more concerned about the effect it was having on his wife. She cried at night, in his arms, constantly asking where she had gone wrong. All Lucien could do was hold her, kiss her and tell her she had been a wonderful mother, that she hadn't done anything wrong, it wasn't her fault.

On the third day, Mr Wilson phoned to say he like to bring his daughter over to see her baby's grandmother. Jean was pleased to have a, minor, distraction, and said she'd be delighted. They arrived, promptly at two. Ruth was a pretty girl, Jean noticed, classic looks and she could see why Jack had been attracted to her, but it was no reason to go as far as he did. She escorted them into the kitchen, she had instructed Jack to stay out of sight, in his bedroom.

Ruth looked apologetic. Her father had been angry, disappointed and furious in turn. She told him she didn't know what the boy was doing, only that he was nice and gentle, and very good looking. She admitted she knew he shouldn't touch her 'there', but he told her it was alright, nothing would happen.

When Jean heard this she blushed, mainly with anger at her boy's manipulation of a naive girl. How deceitful of him, she would have further words with him later!

She suggested Mr Wilson sit in the garden while she got acquainted with Ruth.

Alone with the girl she started to speak, 'Ruth,' she said softly, the girl smiled, she was quite pretty, with auburn hair and green eyes, a touch of the Irish, Jean thought, 'I'm sorry for what Jack did, he should not have led you on.'

'Mrs Beazley,' Ruth's voice was musical, light, 'Jack was kind to me. Dad, well, he's very protective, I'm his only child, and he keeps me tied to the house. I know what Jack did was wrong, now, but, honestly, for once I felt important.'

Jean studied the girl. Another girl browbeaten by her father. Her own father had loved her, danced with her, sang with her and told her she was beautiful. She didn't have to find a boy to make her feel important until she was ready. How sad. If the child was a girl she would make sure that Lucien would love the baby as he never had the chance to do with Li. And show her she was important.

'Has your father told you what we have suggested? What we would like to do?' Jean asked.

'Yes,' Ruth smiled more openly, now, 'And I think it's so lovely of you. There is one thing I would like to know, though...' she inhaled, deeply, 'can I see the baby, not just when it's born, but as it grow up?'

Jean was surprised, and at the same time delighted, Ruth wanted the baby but knew she couldn't bring it up.

'Well, I don't suppose your father will be too pleased about that,' Jean had to admit, 'but Dr Blake and I don't intend to move so, maybe you could pop by occasionally. And I do shop in town...But, Ruth, you do realise that you give up all rights to your child once we have adopted it, don't you?' Jean smiled conspiratorially. She knew she shouldn't but somehow, if she was Ruth...

Ruth just nodded, that didn't matter, at least she would see it grow.

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Oh dear, looks like I'll have to write another chapter. I do know where I want this to go, but it's getting a bit long for a 'one shot'. And I wasn't going to do a 'Jack' story, but it kept nagging at the back of my mind.