Inspired by the lyrics to 'Close Your Eyes' by Michael Buble. Set some months after the end of season 4.
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Jean's knitting needles clicked away as she knitted a cardigan for Amelia, she was growing so fast her grandmother could hardly keep up! Lucien wandered through with the paper and poured his and Charlie's whisky and Jean's sherry. Their evening's had settled back into routine, but with a change in atmosphere, since Mei Lin had left for Hong Kong and the divorce proceedings had begun. The three of them would sit and have their evening drinks and then Charlie would make his excuses and leave the two to do the things that lovers did. Lucien would move over to sit by Jean and they would kiss and cuddle, make tentative plans for their future. Lucien said she could pick where they went for their honeymoon, but she was, as yet, too shy to ask if they could perhaps go to Europe. They would kiss goodnight at the bottom of the stairs and then go to their own rooms, each wondering what the future held for them.
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Lucien lay in his bed, musing on what had brought him to this.
He'd left Ballarat and a woman he couldn't commit to for Edinburgh and medical school. Joined the army, travelled the world, fought in a war, loved and lost, and all the time he was looking for something. His world had gone from bright and happy to dark and painful and now back to bright and very happy.
He thought back to the time the sun had finally come out from behind the darkest cloud. He had caught up with her on the bus to Adelaide and she had put her head against him. They had spent a couple of weeks getting to know each other; she was still the organised, yet restrained, housekeeper he had come to rely on, and he had relaxed and tried to bring out the carefree side to her nature he knew was in there, somewhere. Between the two of them they had come to an agreement, they would see if they could make something of a partnership. They both wanted more but were afraid to push the other in case the walls went up again. In spite of their combined reticence they had come to an understanding, a love. She had rescued him, her beauty betrayed her, her smile gave her away whenever he had transgressed and she forgave him without words. axxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Jean turned out her bedside light and smiled.
Every night, when he kissed her at the foot of the stairs her heart did back flips. She remembered when he had blundered about like an angry elephant, crushing everything in his path. Blasting through convention, getting drunk and insulting anyone who got in his way; then contrite, apologetic, a little boy who had lost his way looking for a light to guide him. He had grown, begun to understand that not all the world was against him and as he had grown she had come to like, then admire and ultimately love this flawed, driven man. The caring country physician who had tended to her grazed hand when the thugs had insulted her son, held her when Jack had left and told her now was the time to learn to live again when she regretted the angry words she had parted from Christopher with, and then he had followed her to Adelaide. He was her angel in the armour of a three piece suit, protecting her, telling her not to listen to the gossips in town, and comforting her when it all got a bit too much.
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All they had to do was to bide their time until the divorce was finalised. It wasn't easy for either of them. Lucien wanted her, wanted her in his arms, on his arm in town, sitting with him in a restaurant and in his bed.
Jean wanted to be seen on his arm, she wanted to dine with him in public without recriminations, to be beside him at night with all that that entailed, she wanted to show him just how much she loved him. But, until the divorce came through all they could do was be formal in public, cool towards each other, and distant in front of Charlie. It hurt, like a knife twisting in a wound.
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Charlie lay listening to the footsteps on the stairs, indicating Jean was on her way up to bed. As they had been to Mattie so they were to him, surrogate parents. He knew that each loved the other, deeply. He also knew that Jean's upbringing, her Catholic faith, stopped her sleeping with Lucien outside the bounds of marriage, and also because he was still a married man. It would still be something she would have to resign herself to when he was divorced, still a sin in the eyes of the church.
Lucien's gentlemanly conduct amused him and he admired him for it. So many times he had heard the doc run a bath at night, a cold bath, he knew because he could hear the doctor shudder as he slid under the water. He would smile, but deep down would love to help them. He wanted to tell them to stop being so proper and go have a night of unbridled passion, he wasn't going to tell, but he'd probably find his belongings on the doorstep if he did! So what to do? Night after night he fell asleep with the need to help them.
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And so life went on, the usual round of autopsies, surgeries, minor scuffles that had Jean cleaning his cuts and bruises. Housework and book-keeping, cooking and cleaning, and evenings with a sherry and a whisky and a kiss and a cuddle.
Then Jean went to Adelaide, again.
They still acted as though she were nothing more to each other than housekeeper and employer outside and so she took her annual leave as usual. Arranging to see Christopher and his family, spend some time with her granddaughter, keep up appearances.
Lucien insisted she went by train, a shorter trip than the bus and he also paid her fare. He wouldn't take 'no' for an answer on that, that and the taxi fare in Adelaide. He couldn't go with her this time, so she finally relented, promising to ring as soon as she got there and every evening too. To prevent more gossip they parted inside the house, and he politely waved her off from the front door as the taxi drove down to the road, away from him.
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Back in the house Lucien was glad he had surgery to take his mind off the fact he wouldn't be able to cuddle up on the couch with Jean that night, or for the next fourteen nights. If he kept busy he could just about bear it, he hoped. Perhaps he could get some things done around the house, they'd long joked about a second bathroom on the ground floor, in one of the side rooms off the studio, after all it would be their room when they married. He wondered if Matthew knew of a reliable man who could do the job before Jean got back. He'd ask him later when he was down at the station.
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As the train pulled away from Ballarat, Jean wondered what that silly man she loved would get up to while she wasn't there to keep an eye on him. She hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid, like get drunk; he hadn't for ages; and try to stop a fight or have a go at Patrick. He'd said he'd try to be good, like a little boy being sent off to play and being told not to get into trouble. While she was looking forward to seeing Amelia and her parents she knew she was going to miss him like she had never missed him before. He'd promised to keep chasing the lawyer, he and Mei Lin were both pushing for a swift resolution to their case.
Mei Lin had settled well with Li, and had hinted there was someone interested in her. Jean and Lucien were glad for her and Lucien had admitted it made it less worrying for him, to know she would be alright. Jean understood; he had searched for so long, then resigned to her death, then found she was alive; he was bound to have some need to see she was settled.
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Christopher was still at work when the taxi delivered Jean to the little house at the base. Ruby was at the door to greet her mother-in-law, Amelia in her arms. The taxi driver carried her cases up to the door, refusing a tip, he said he had been handsomely paid when the booking had been made. He would be the one to take her to the station when she returned. Jean thanked him and smiled at Lucien's thoughtfulness. She took Amelia in her arms and kissed the dark curls.
'You are in the same room, Jean.' Ruby said, lifting the case, 'I'll put the kettle on in a minute, you must be ready for a cuppa.' Ruby rarely smiled and this time was no different, she and Jean were pleasant to each other but nothing more.
'That would be lovely, Ruby, thank you.' Jean smiled looking round the house. It was clean and tidy, Ruby had obviously made an effort and Jean resolved not to be too picky. She was on holiday, not there to take over as she had done when Amelia was born. So she did not run her finger over surfaces to look for dust, as Mrs Toohey had apparently done when she stood in for her. Mattie and Charlie had told her everything, which is why this time they had engaged young Mary from the orphanage to come in and do a little bit of light cleaning and laundry outside of school hours. Charlie would do the bulk of the cooking, though Jean expected both her men would go out to the club or have fish and chips more than home cooking!
They were chatting over a cup of tea, Amelia sitting on her grandmother's lap when Christopher arrived home. He kissed his wife and child and said 'hello' to his mother.
'How was your journey?' He inquired, pouring himself some tea.
'It was fine, thank you.' Jean smiled, 'the train was on time and Lucien had ordered a taxi to pick me up.' Jean wondered what her son's reaction would be to the news that the doctor had made every effort to ensure she was well taken care of.
'That was good of him,' was Christopher's non-committal response.
'I'll make sure there's one for you on your return journey.' Christopher thought he'd better show he cared how she travelled.
'No need, dear.' Jean grinned. 'Lucien has arranged and paid for it.' She stood up, 'If you don't mind I'll go and unpack.' Taking Amelia with her she headed up to her room. The suitcase was on the bed. Closing the door and putting the baby on the floor she opened it and shook out her clothes. As she shook out her old favourite cardigan an envelope fell to the floor. She picked it up and sat on the bed while she opened it. There was no writing on it but she had no doubt it was from her love.
'Dear Jean
Just a little offering, treat yourself, please. And don't be cross with me. Being apart from you is punishment enough.
All my love, sweetheart
Lucien. x'
Jean found tears pricking at her eyes as she read his familiar writing.
'Oh Lucien,' she whispered to herself, 'what am I going to do with you?' She felt a light tickling on her ankle and looked down to see the almost concerned look on her granddaughter's face. Folding the money and putting it down the side of the suitcase, she picked up the child and kissed her, burying her face in the soft curls to stop the tears from falling.
'Silly old granddad.' She whispered. Even though he was not Amelia's grandfather she hoped the child would come to look on him as such, in the years to come.
Jean finished unpacking and put the suitcase under the bed and the money in her purse. She had an idea what to treat herself to and she smiled to herself.
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Jean's days were filled with walks in the park with Amelia, picnics with Amelia and Ruby and the occasional lunch with Ruby's friends. They were nice girls, for the most part army wives, but sometimes Jean felt lonely even in company. She quite often left the women to talk and took Amelia round Adelaide, looking for something to treat herself to that Lucien would appreciate too.
Christopher and Ruby both tried to discover what was going on between her and Dr Blake. Christopher was concerned she was going to have her heart broken or do something foolish. Jean would not be drawn. She had not told them Lucien's wife had turned up as he had been about to propose marriage, not told them they were waiting for his divorce to be finalised, just said she was content to continue as his housekeeper for as long as he needed her. Her home was in Ballarat, she had her friends, her hobbies all was as it should be for a farm widow in her early forties. The more they asked the more she missed him, the longer the nights were and sometimes the questioning had her cry herself to sleep. The evening phone calls didn't help her miss him less, either. They didn't hear her, she had become adept at silent tears and she always appeared happy in the morning.
'You'll always have a home with us, mum.' Christopher said, one morning towards the end of her stay.
'That's sweet of you dear, but you don't want your mother interfering in your life.' She smiled sweetly and patted his arm, still playing the part.
'I just worry that you will be hurt.' He replied, 'Dr Blake can be a bit...'
'A bit troublesome? Yes he can, but it's alright, I know how to handle him.' She smiled back, thinking something rather naughty. She was lucky she did not blush too much.
Christopher raised his eyebrows at the slight change in her colour but then as Ruby had said, she was of a certain age!
'Well, the offers always there.' He bent down and kissed her cheek before heading to work.
Jean had decided that her last full day would be spent with Amelia and Ruby in the city. She said she'd like to treat them to lunch, just the three of them, to thank them for their hospitality. They'd had an enjoyable time, Amelia had behaved impeccably for her grandmother and Ruby had been reasonable company. She had nothing specific left to do, she'd found her treat, which she hoped Lucien would agree was the right thing to purchase. She smiled a little secret smile to herself when she packed that evening, leaving only the things she would need for travelling on the end of her bed.
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The taxi arrived to collect her after breakfast. She and Lucien had timed her return journey so she would arrive home in time for dinner. Jean kissed Amelia, thanked Ruby and hugged Christopher. She tried not to look too happy at going home but, in truth, she had missed Lucien even more than she had imagined possible.
Sitting on the train she had time to muse on how much she was looking forward to sitting on the couch with her sherry, and with Lucien's arm around her. The time spent sitting looking out of the window as the country flew by was time to think about whether or not she was prepared to make the changes she wanted to and if Lucien would agree, which she was sure he would. If she did it would be a huge change to their lives and there would be substantial fallout if it was known in town.
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End of chapter one, or it's going to be a rather long one shot. Chapter two will be published at the same time. Some have said that Lucien's suit is his armour, which I have noted here, but my inspiration is from the Buble song. As always reviews and comments welcome.
